Whilmshire Home For The Criminally Insane. (Part I)

Dr. Wilkes flipped to the next page of the chart.

He scanned the medical forms intently.

Jake sat at the edge of his bed watching the doctor; nervously tugging at his hospital gown, waiting for judgement to be handed down.

Wilkes tapped his ball point pen lightly on the corner of the clipboard as he rescanned the information.

"S-so what's the um.. Verdict pseudo padre..? I'm better right? Like, I can dip out of here this week even? Maybe?"

Dr. Wilkes leaned back and took a deep breathe; pinching the bridge of his nose and pushing up his glasses, all physical queues screaming (the way you talk, irritates me.)

"No."

"Uh.... No? But I'm totally better my guy! I know the demon ladies are all in my head and shit!"

The doctor thumbed through the patient chart and then sat it down on the night stand next to jakes bed.

"Like yeah okay I did see a demon lady eat a Hombre but like, you guys have totally showed me that it was all my minds eye."

Jake's nervously managed a smile at the unsold Doctor.

"Look man.. You may not know this by looking at me but I'm kind of.. A big deal? Just let me walk out of here already bro. I'm not gonna like, drop the 411 on the kind of shit you dudes are running."

Wilkes stared back stone faced and extended the silence for an eternity and then reached into his suitcase and produced a folder with Jake's name on it.

"Patient 114 psyche evaluation notes. Jacob Freene is currently suffering from the following ailments. Paranoia, hallucinations, delusions of grandeur, insomnia, superiority, God, Don Juan (that is desire to sleep with everyone including other patients), and persecution complex.

It is recommended. That the subjects medication be increased by an additional 20mg to improve sleep quality and a 6 month isolation therapy be implemented immediately."

Jake through the lamp from his night stand and sent it crashing into the wall. Wilkes calmly watched as he began to have a breakdown.

"No way mi amigo that's fucking bullshit! I want out of this shit hole man, right the fuck now!"

Wilkes groaned again and jotted down a note in Jake's file.

"Fuck you dude! What the fuck are you writing huh!?"

Wilkes glanced up from his evaluation chair.

"You're still violent. I'm going to add that a daily regimen of ketamine be added to your medications to keep you... Sedated in between therapy sessions."

Two large men in scrubs entered the room and tackled Jake.

"My dad's gonna fucking own all of you when he finds out about this!"

The men dragged jake out of the room and left wilkes alone in his armchair. Inflicted.

Dr. Wilkes gave a sigh, removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes in frustration for a moment trying to get Jake's voice out of his head before getting up and heading to the next room.

The Charge nurse approached him in the hall and followed him along his path.

"The guy in 3-12 wanted water. So we gave him ice chips. Just making sure that's alright."

The doctor rolled his eyes but kept his stride.

"3-12 is a Kryllum."

"A...Kryllum?"

"If he gets a single drop of water he can blas-"

The Wall behind them exploded into pieces and an aids head went flying into the hall from the corresponding room. An alarm sounded and 5 men and a nurse rushed in.

The doctor groaned and looked at the nurse.

"He can do that."

She apologized and ran back to the room to help the aids detain the old man.

The doctor continued on.

A disheveled woman in a wheelchair and multiple casts being pushed hastily into a room three doors down grinned innocently at him as he passed her.

Wilkes addressed the aid pushing the wheelchair.

"Careful with Tiffany, she has a succubus that lives in her bones. It hates men. Snaps them to pieces. She's the one who ate the guard back in February."

The aid nodded and rushed the girl into her room.

The girl chucked in a deep voice.

"Awww you're no fun."

Passing 3-21 he glanced into the room as a man with no eyes, scribbled endless stories across his wall; all connected; all terrifying in their own right.

Wilkes scanned the new entries and saw his morning routine scratched harshly deeper than the rest.

"Listeners always intrigue me. How do you always get the information perfect?"

The blind man milled over this and leaned back on his bed.

"You took my eyes, not my ears Doctor."

Wilkes smirked, "Anything you'd like to add?"

"It's not Don Juan syndrome."

"Hmm? Elaborate."

A mouse crawled up from under the man's bed. And scurried up his leg and torso and came to rest on his shoulder.

The man sighed and stared at his mural through his empty sockets.

"Don Juan Syndrome is the appetite for multiple women. Jacob is a bisexual sex addict. There's a difference doctor."

Wilkes opened his planner and jotted the correction down. As well as a reminder to schedule the taking of the man's ears and have pest control see about the mouse problem.

"That's true; have a good day Ozmund."

3-30 to 34 were all filled with creatures of the night. A vampyre named Erica slept quietly during the day in 30, she'd rise around 11:30pm and begin the night of trying to glamour her way out of her nightly defanging. The night crew basically strapped her down and with silver pliers and ripped them from her skull. Its a shame that she grew them back when she slept.

31,32 and 33 held three small ghouls that liked to eat little girls. Wilkes saw the pictures of the string of deaths they had left behind. Including the ones others were charged for. He preferred to avoid them. Especially because no current means have been discovered to sate their appetite; or kill them.

However they did hurt. Pain is the ultimate leveler.

Their behavioral therapy was a once a week visit with room 34.

3-34 housed wilkes' absolute favorite of block C.

A mist man. Or rather. mist Woman. In this instance. Nobody really knew what they were but this particular one preferred to assume the form of a child. A girl to be exact.

It goes by Samantha.

And Samantha liked to use Kinectic potential and various teeth and spines hidden behind her facade to brutally rip apart anything that came into her view. It relaxed her.

The hospital went through 153 staff members before they allocated her therapy with the ghouls.

As wilkes made his way around the corner and approached 3-49 at the end of block C's floor 3, the chaos from the ability hall faded out; and the screams of dread began to increase in volume.

He approached the room; Took a deep breathe, straightened his white coat and then unlatched the door.

The woman strapped into the old leather dental chair wailed and screamed as Dr. Reed plunged the small needle sized drill bit back into her knee cap.

She writhed and jerked. Gurgling against the ball strapped into her mouth that failed it's job at muffling her.

When she finally fell unconscious, Dr. Reed pulled the meaty pile of flesh from the drill and placed it on the table alongside her other therapeutic tools.

Wilkes chuckled, Reed turned around.

"Well hello John."

"Hey Cathy."

"What brings you to my neck of the woods today? Wanting to see how wonderful my techniques are? Or maybe you just wanna watch me work my assets."

Wilkes laughed.

"Aside from your ass. The only assets I'm here for are the new therapy lists."

Reed grinned behind her mask and wiped her blood covered gloves on her surgical gown.

"Oh yes! These ones are quite exciting! Well.. At least to me."

She walked to the table in the corner of the room and grabbed a folder; accidentally smearing it with the patient's blood.

"Shit sorry.. Here."

Wilkes opened the paperwork and scanned the list of procedures accompanied with corresponding descriptions and reasonings.

"Jesus... Water boarding? That's fucked up even for us. How's that new though?"

Reed cocked an eyebrow.

"8 years and that's where you draw the line?"

Wilkes shrugged, "I fell into a pool as a kid. Fucked me up I guess."

They both chuckled.

Wilkes glanced at the girl in the chair who now had foam oozing from the corner of her mouth.

"What about that one? Never seen you do that before."

Reed cocked an eyebrow and followed his gaze.

"Hmm? Oh it's in the list. Number 14 I believe."

Wilkes skimmed the page.

"Lycanthropic Draining.. She's a werewolf huh?"

Reed mused.

"Oh yes she is. They found her behind an apartment complex in Rhode Island. Very dense population.. She made quite a mess of the local population before a game warden took her down with 4 tranquilizers."

John thumbed through the descriptions, "Well.. What's the therapy do? Dibilitate?"

Reed shrugged, "Well not really, she heals very quickly below the surface. This therapy in particular hasn't been perfected.. She pointed to the small bored holes in the patients knee caps and then again to the small holes under her nose and again at each temple.

"Lycanthropy as you know is an infection contracted through the passing of the virus from one host to another via bite."

"Yes, that's basic cryptid pathology."

Reed reached out and squeezed the girls knee cap like a giant cyst. Blood gurgled out of the wound for a moment and was quickly replaced with a thick black tar.

"Right before the moon phases and the infected loses control. A chemical now known as (LY-23S) begins to build in these key spots of the body."

She pointed out the holes again.

"Vigorously draining them in the most violent of ways exhausts the subject and keeps the chemical which seems to be responsible for the change low enough that the transition doesn't occur."

Wilkes rubbed his chin and twisted his face up.

"Why haven't I seen her on the ability hall?"

Reed smiled.

"Because she doesn't change anymore John. Meaning shes not a Werewolf. At least not under my therapeutic methods. Shes just a murderer. So shes being housed on 2 with the psych cases."

Wilkes pager vibrated his belt urgently. He checked the message that scrolled across the small digital screen. A number he knew all to well flashed in the technical green.

Reeds smile curled down and her brow furrowed.

"It's Anderson isn't it?"

Wilkes sighed and silenced the beeper.

"Afraid so, he thinks because he funds this facility that he has some kind of push in here."

Reed cocked an eyebrow, "I mean... Doesn't he?"

"I personally don't think so."

"I don't know.. Remember when he made the nurses release that floor 2 guy because he was bored? Didn't he almost make it off the property?"

"Yeah but the block B guard subdued him. That didn't turn into anything."

"Yeah but the guy was admitted to C because of his instability. He's accused of what... 32 murders? The greenbriar butcher right? All those girls... Imagine if he would've gotten ahold of one of the assistants; it could've been bad."

Wilkes reached for the door, "It was more sad than bad.. We had him pretty weak; frail and cowering, just like warden Miles wanted. why does that particular incident come to mind?"

The girl in the chair started to jerk and snarl. Cathy reached into her pocket and produced a syringe. She plunged it into the girl's neck and she settled under the anesthetic.

"Monsters aren't what's scary in this world John. People are.."

____

The elevator clicked to a soft stop on the 4th floor. The doors shuttered open and John was met with a grin. Wide and mischievous, creepily accenting the greased back hair and over used aftershave that were always with it. Donald Anderson wiped away invisible dirt from his oversized blazer and smiled again.

"Jesus Christ Don, do you always have to wait for me at the elevator?"

Wilkes brushed passed him, sifting through the papers he had recieved from Cathy intently; trying to seem to busy for any of his twisted demands.

Anderson matched John's pace. Taking a hard left down the administrative hallway.

"Well if I didn't, you'd find some way to slip past me I'm sure."

John reached his office and barreled through the door and tossed his coat on the guest chair. Blocking Donald's attempt at sitting down.

Don cleared his throat and continued,

"I have a business proposition for you and your... Colleagues."

John sat down and produced a 3 inch stack of medical papers.

"You see these? I have 115 cases on my plate as of today. I have a new list of therapies I have to synergize into them; so I can have the test results back in time for deadline or the companies and private partners who fund our little fugasse? well, they'll pull out. You know what that means Don?"

Anderson cocked an eyebrow.

"What does that me-"

Wilkes cut him off.

"It means I don't have the time for your business proposition; and if that somehow entitles you to pull your tiny slice of funding? Well it's alot better than losing everybody else."

Anderson cocked an eyebrow.

"You seem a little tense today John, does work got you down?"

Wilkes pinched his nose and rolled them, keeping his impending migraine at the event horizon.

"Yes Don, I'm severely stressed; so can you please take your proposition somewhere else?"

Anderson grinned and smoothed back his hair.

"Afraid not Johnny, 49% of the funding makes me a very loud voice. So buckle up because this one's a fuckin woozy."

Don reached into his blazer and produced a dark red envelope. Tossing it on top of Wilkes stack of paperwork he continued.

"There's a place, in the mountains out west. Small town, really; it's nestled away in some Montana mountain range. Well, this town raised a considerable amount of funds; and their donation.. Has earned a council vote. And you know how I am Johnny. Can't turn down a good donation.

Wilkes' eyebrows furrowed suspiciously.

"What do you mean earned them a vote? On what?"

"There's a patient that they'd like transferred. To their general hospital. I guess he's a top priority. Who would've thought."

John scowled, "so we're selling our patients now are we?"

"Oh come on john! You know that these.. "Patients" aren't enjoying the shit we're doing here.. Don't develop a conscience now."

Wilkes shook his head. "It's not the patients Don, its the locals; what happens of the patient gets loose? How many will die?"

Anderson waved him off, "good news is the towns a ghost. Some mass disappearance years ago. We've looked into it. Even if they did escape facility; theres about 900 miles of forest and no vehicles seperating them from the public."

After a moment of silence Donald cleared his throat and grabbed for the door, "Its C-07, the vote was in favor of the donator. Have a fantastic day. Doctor."

John sit back in his seat for a few moments and let the request set in.

"C-07.... Former member of the Illinois state police Detective; gone cult leader/naturalist..."

Wilkes thought back to his initial entrance into whilmshire.

He opened his desk drawer and thumbed through his patients until he found the corresponding file.

'Patient C-07: Robert Michael (Mickey) Moore

Admitted January 19, 1993

Notes: Robert aka Mickey, Half-Brother to patient C3-118 Tiffany Bennet;

Was apprehended by Vermont police after the former investigator led a group of what can only be described as cultists; in a suicide pact/raid of a public townhall.

The building was lockeddown; and in total Robert (along with the hive mind tree spirit and the cultists who were used as vessels) had slaughtered 436 citizens who were present for a table talk with the mayor.

When the proper authorities gained control of the situation and gained entry to the building; All members of the meeting as well as the cultists who blindly followed Mr. Moore into the scenario (whom had animal masks made of wicker sewn into their faces) were all hanging and/or impaled by a forest of vines, roots and thorns that filled the structure. Robert was found unscathed, standing in the center of the massacre. It took 14 hours to cut through the massive cluster of growth to reach him. Where he then came quietly and willingly.

Update:

Treatments have been a succession of failures. The Tree demon doesn't seem to be able to be coaxed forward for exorcism. In fact, it seems that the being isn't present at all.

It is recommended that all therapies be halted and Robert be monitored electronically from his room until further notice.'

John picked up the envelope and examined it closely. The paper was high grade. The contents were heavy. No writing or sender indication was apparent.

He opened it and produced a thick, black, three page letter. Only two words were written in the center of each page; written in bright red ink.

"Robert Moore.

Two Days.

Thank you."

The bottom of the last page was signed. With deep scratches that almost perforated the heavy paper. 'T'

__

Wilkes sat in Cathy's office and stared into his black cup of coffee; that had grown cold an hour prior.

"So are we going to release him?"

Cathy tapped her pen on the mahogany desk.

"I don't know Cath, his acts were morbid, And that worries me, hes been on lock down in the back hall of C since his second week of admittance. No human contact."

"How long has he been in solitary?"

"2 years."

Cathy hummed an inquisitive hum.

"Hmm....I wonder why, it's not like whilmshire to just lock away an admission if the couldn't get a therapy response from the ability or entity. Hell, I've dismembered children looking for a response."

Cathy walked across the room and began rinsing the gray coffee ring from her empty mug and emptied the pot for another brew of Columbian. She had been up for days working on her thesis about the benefits of homicide on the narcissistic profile of Alpha creatures such as the Vampire and Werewolf.

She reached over and plucked John's cold mug from his hands and rinsed the dead brew from his as well. Pouring him a fresh replacement seemed to wake him out of his stuper.

"You know, I watched Moore's surveillance archives. When I had time, anyway."

Cathy sipped at her mug and leaned against the table.

"Oh? And did you find yourself some kind of clerical insight?"

"No.. In fact I've made my hesitation worse."

"Elaboration is key here John, my powers of the Ether aren't nearly as well rounded as my ass. Can't read your mind."

John smiled and softened a little, "since the day he was locked away. He hasn't done anything but stare at the wall."

"Has he eaten?"

"Not once, his room has a pile of old dirty trays and rotten food piled in front of the door. Not even janitorial has been allowed access to clean it up.. Two fucking years Cath.. And it's like he's on pause."

"On pause?"

"Like he's waiting for something, or someone. Its like he hit pause on his biological clock. He has grown no more facial hair beyond the scruff that he showed up with and his haircut is still immaculate. It's like he's waiting to hit play on his life after he leaves here. Like we're some kind of movie intermission."

Cathy set her mug down.

"That's fascinating.. Any idea how he did it?"

"No, even the undead need to shave. but the craziest part is the sprouts."

"sprouts?"

"there's no sign that whatever had possessed him is still in his body. and yet since he's been here, small maple sprouts have started to grow across the floor of his room,Cath. no water, no sun, just a 2 inch tall forest across his floor."

Cathy let a out a small gasp of amazement.

"It might be a residual ability left over from the possesion... that's so fascinating, it's a shame we might be sending him out."

__

The aids had a hard time removing the wall of molded trays and thousands of unadministered pills that scattered the floor of Robert's room.

Once a hole was breached, Dr. Wilkes stepped inside.

The silhouette of a man sat with his back to him. Quiet. Still.

"Mr. Moore. I'm Doctor Wi-"

"I know who you are."

Wilkes jumped and the aids watching at the door quickly turned and darted down the hall with a distant 'Fuck that shit' following their departure.

"So you're still verbal...fascinating."

Wilkes curiously approached the chair that bolted into the floor near the bed; (each room had these placed for evaluations) and wiped the thick dust from it's cushion.

"May I?"

Robert said nothing and continued to stare with his back to the world.

The doctor sat down and clicked open his briefcase.

"There's a request for your transfer Mr. Moore. My job is to evaluate your condition and make sure that your movement from block C is applicable."

John took a moment to give Robert the opportunity to reply but silence ensued; he continued.

"The request came from a small facility in the Montana mountain range, it's not equipped by any means to house a cryptid, demon, deity or what ever else the town hall incident owed itself to; but nonetheless.. they were granted the transf-"

Roberts dull grey eyes lit up as he cut the doctor off.

"Calfrey.. he actually delivered me his flock... to shepard them unto thy roots and let them burn like wicker dolls in my name."

"shepard his flock..?"

John had forgotten the huge faith backing psychosis that fueled Robert and his occupying deity during the mass murder event that landed him in Whilmshire to begin with.

Robert grinned as he turned to face Wilkes.

"Yes John; I'm well aware that I was possesed when I arrived here. I'm also very keen on the notion that your associates still think my....'guest' is lying dormant within me. But truth be told theres no proof of that. they've tried to find it but the big man is gone."

Wilkes fixed his glasses and listened intently.

"but you're still devout to the parasite that had ahold of you it seems."

Robert 's brow furrowed, "Have you ever had a god or.... or...anything beyond your intelligence.. inside of you? pulling the strings?"

"no."

"it's like..."

Robert reached over to the stack of folded jeans and flannels that an aid had given Dr.Wilkes and stood to change into them for transport with a musing look and a thousand yard stare.

"It's like being fused into a supernova of the best drugs that the cosmos has to offer. you don't turn your back on it, you can't possibly turn your back on it; John, the drugs win, the being wins, and they show you nothing but pure Nirvana. nothing ever can or will compare to it. and the thing who gave you the closest thing you'll ever get to heaven? You don't turn your back on it for a moment. In my opinion. That's God."

John mused; "you can worship whoever and whatever you choose to. Just don't act on the brutality."

Dr. Wilkes stood and snapped his briefcase shut as two aids shakily entered the room and put handcuffs around Robert's ankles and wrists.

"What happened Robert.. from what I hear you were a good officer."

Robert gave a slant of a frown.

"That was a long time ago doc. and call me Mickey.."

__

"Word around the hall is you're letting big brother leave; is that true Ms. Reed?"

Cathy tightened the right arm strap against Emily's skin and kneeled to start on the ankles.

"From what I understand he's being transferred, Some place in the northwest."

Emily leaned back into her elevated bedding and mused. a small grin pointed to life in the corner of her mouth and her eyes glazed over; and then someone else was there in the room.

A low deep voice slithered into Cathy's ears.

"whilmsSshire's faculty must be losing their grips. We all know moving Robert isSSss... Ill advised at bessSSsst."

Cathy groaned.

"What are you going by today? Wrath? Legion?"

The demon chuckled slow and mockingly.

"DealerSssSSss choice."

Cathy's stepped across the room to a table that housed stick pads attached with wires that ran the length of the distance between Emily and a machine by the door. she stuck them onto the girls temples, chest, abdomen and back.

"At least you don't call yourself a god.."

"You can't compare me to who isSs inSide Mickey's penthouse of a mind; I wouldn't do that injusSstice either."

Cathy took her seat behind the machine and cranked the two safety knobs to their maximum charge. She placed her finger over the button, waiting for the full charge indicator to blink a high voltage yellow.

"Oh, so you know what had ahold of Robert?"

"I've lived in this families DNA for centuries, I know everything about anything they have and will ever do."

Cathy grinned, "Okay I'll bite, what kind of entity had ahold of him, hmmm?"

Emily's face twisted and popped into a large black eyed, sharp toothed mess.

Wrath leaned forward, the straps struggled against the new massive density of the small girl's frame.

"A God."

"Bullshit."

Cathy slammed the power release and the yellow light blinked out, 400,000 volts slammed into Emily's figure. The charge started again.

The girl's body jerked into the restraints, the bed shaking like a hurricane was threatening to take it. the entity writhed, smoke spewed from the distorted face, eyes rolled into their sockets as a torrent of pain thundered through the shared nervous system.

"HEEEE IS GOOODDDD!"

a loud explosion erupted from the floor below and the lights slammed off. darkness egulfed the two.

A small faint red glow blinked on and off as the machine's auxillary battery informed cathy of the error.

The code green emergency siren blared in the distance from the other end of the Whilmshire grounds.

"what's going on.."

Cathy clicked the machine switch off and on but no charge began. It was by all accounts dead.

out of the darkness the silence was broken, a large pale figure with hundreds of unnaturally jagged razor edged teeth and hollow black eyes towered into the dim red glow, Cathy gasped when she saw emily's lifeless face frozen in a scream embedded in the abominations chest.

Wrath grabbed Dr. Reed by her skull and his thumb pierced her eye. She wailed a loud gurgle as he lifted her to meet him.

The abomination took a deep breathe. Cathy's remaining eye jerked and her body siezed as her brain began to shut down from the pain.

"ssSSssmells like a fire out there. Dr. Reed."

and with a large unhinge of his jaw, the last thing Cathy had ever witnessed was rows of endless teeth as they closed in on her skull. smothering her existence.