"The Red Retreat"

[Killas]

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Beyond a crooked, old insane asylum, the loony bin, the mental hospital, there began something that was hidden from public eyes, something so demented and repulsive that it was kept sealed to improve in its own vile ways. To begin with, it contained ‘patients’ which are usually as I refer to, Victims. These victims were never called to their names they were always documented and called by their serial numbers. Of course they had names but some believed there was no use in them any more in fact most of these patients that have been held here have forgot their name as they titled it useless. Now most would believe this is a normal behavior of a mentally ill patient. Many would. But you see, this had more darker deems to hold, more cracks and holes to fill with its brutality.

The patients in the mental hospital are supposedly mentally unstable, while others are actually mentally unstable. In this ‘asylum’ it contains victims that are all classified at mentally ill. From long the term patients that have been placed in this environment for so long, they have been convinced that they are in fact damaged. After years of abuse, neglect, and constant testing on the victims that have now been given the title or aspect ‘crazy’ but for all those that have never been crazy, the one being foul played, they were usually permanently damaged and given the title, ‘crazy’.

Before I go any further you should know about the testing they had for human testing, to be able to grip them by their mind they were able to brain wash these victims and making them believe that these inhumane experiments that they placed on these patients was just treatment. Being held by law, by government they were left useless and tormented for the rest of their lives as being labeled insane. After all these testing that they were able to escape with for years from long periods of time they were able to soon make these human subjects not non-human subjects. From all the genetic and mental experiments on these patients have given them some deformities in a way, these genetic testing that was placed onto these patients now have the ability to do inhuman like things.(powers) They were tested with animals, reptiles, chemicals, machines, all of these sorts. Some aren’t even classified as human. The questions from the now, non-human patients were classified as natural mental hallucinations. Another aspect about these ability’s and skill that were given from the testing can include, malfunctions, weaknesses, unbearable pains that would affect them dearly.

This was agonizing for all of them there was nothing to explain shear fear. The confusion, disorientation, the traumatizing moment of realizing that you strapped to the table and panicked fear of not knowing what in the world is going on, the cruelty and bitterness that the doctors treat you with, they treat you like you are not a being, like you deserve to be tortured!

Some wonder if they experiments are actually excuses to cut open and play with the human body, most in the asylum claim it’s to make things for their army. We all wonder if this is right, but honestly they are just victims locked in their room, the head of the illegal government project is hidden and remains unidentified. All the patients that were placed into the fake Asylum were cut from the entire outside world from evidence.
The government has kept this inhumane testing for over 145 years. There were Russian scientists involved; there was also Polish, American, and many more types of scientists and doctors that have illegally taken the human subject testing, or the now in-human subjects. This high paying job was literally meant for the dark, demented, minds of the curious doctors. Their plans with their wealthy life were just enough to satisfy them for all these years, what would make them stop?

But there are always new victims, always new ones. They would have to relive what all the other ones went through, although some may have gone through worse, or some just suffer the metal consequences. There’s no way to explain the horrific, deranged experiences given to these nameless creatures. Once they had a life, once they were human and had the ability to live as one.

So many have wish and dreamt of being un-human, to be more than what they are. But the question is, is it really worth losing the simplicity in life? To give into the worsened pain, the harder ships, to see how demented the world can really be? To be given these things in this time, here, at this asylum was not your choice, not your dream come true.

Imagine a young boy, perhaps at age thirteen. He was just learning to understand the word and what he wanted to do as he aged older. Well that boy was haunted by his ugly past, his messy parents who always put themselves first and drank their life away always neglecting their only son. Soon his parents split up and ended up in a foster. This boy was out of control with his anger and was registered to this Asylum.He who thought was safe, hewho thought he could recover and just breath, hewas only beaten, insulted, tortured in what he thought was escape only to find more sadistic abuse, he was given a number nothing else,he was there and now is twenty eight. That boy is no longer human, that boy now does not know his name or what he is supposed to do, he only has the intentions of a sick, psychotic mind. All he does is imagine how nice it would be to have a lifeless body on the table and turn their life upside down, to watch that innocent person scream for mercy, to plead and get no answer and only break. Only satisfaction on his twisted smile, this was only one person, usually they came in ranging from 6-25 years old when brought into the asylum.

But there is no sympathy in this defiled prison. Some do actually have a will, usually the new ones, but perhaps old ones hopefully still repeat their name every night before they go to sleep, that the monsters are only made from the ones that made them that way. This is all about a group of victims story, all how they survived this foul place. How they used their curses into gifts to save them, to free them of the prison.

Some were actually crazy, maybe that’s what saved them, and the ones who were sane helped as well. Some lost victims who actually live for their number, that live for the numb creature they are, are used for security. After all, the inhumane abuse and testing has never been revealed or founded. Not one case has been reported due to high security and laws to protect the sealed off building. In this 1950's advance era, no one was aware of the sadistic, morbid activates that are taken and done within the Asylum. This old, corrupted, tainted hell called a hospital is known as, "The Red retreat"

PLOT
The unexplained experiment:

• The Asylum had decided to take an appropriate group of patients and lock them in living quarters. 6232 is in charge of the victims as he is also part of the project with the patients, even if he is in charge of watching the victims to keep them from killing one another or hurting themselves he is a victim himself. After all, it is an Asylum.
• This is a recorded from cameras to the doctors that have started the project. It is basically the interactions with one another and how they use their abilities for this.
• They want to watch how odd or hostile they act from being isolated and tested on for so long.
• They are still tested on regularly and will be punished if any rules are broken.
• Vincent is in charge of all their medications in the mean time and is provided with them.
• All injections and procedures will remain to be made in the labs.
• They are locked in their rooms at ten thirty.

Will add characters, room assigns and updates later. This was designed to have social interaction with the rest of the characters.

[Killas]

"Oh come on, seriously? This is bullshit!" The victim complain, "They can do just fine on their own, they don't need a full hour clock on those helpless things!" He insisted rudely, he flinched when the Doctor raised his hand, to his surprise he only pointed it to his face, "Now, I have been directed this, it was not my rules and I have not intended this." He reached past his jet black locks and smacked him roughly on head, "Go get your ass in there, and tell them the rules and safely, and I will mention only once quietly into their new quarters. Any more objections and we'll just send you back to the labs for further, 'updates'”. The man stroked his grey goatee after he demanded the ‘patient’ his orders. 6232 groaned and took his glare to the wall, his black feathered companion perched on his shoulder made a annoying caw before he turned back his doctor, "What rooms do I send them too and what rooms do get them from?" he asked stubbornly. He waited patiently and rubbed his finger on his thin scar that laid on his right cheek and eye as the doctor handed him the folded paper within his had, "Here". He took it quickly and turned around to abide his orders quickly, the faster the better.

Rubbing his aching head, 6232 yawned irritated as he got to a cell room, took the keys from his right coat pocket and confirmed the number on the key to the basement door. No way did he have the time to group up all those patients. Might as well let the guards do it.

Chrimson wasn't particularly happy with the change, in fact he was perfectly unhappy with being moved. He was simply in his little white room sitting on the pigment-less sheets as he rubbed at his neck hoping the pain would just swell back down. He was getting really getting sick of the way how the asylum system works, he considered nothing in this place lucky and wouldn't get the image of the nurses hands out of his head, all he wanted to do was keep them to himself but it wouldn't be a benefit if he would just get punished. He yawned and turned his head to the door as a guard entered the room and asked him to get up, he pushed himself up and then the man took his hands and bound them behind his back, escorting him down to the basement.

Tristle was already placed into the quarters and was convinced they really didn't care who died anymore, at least the ones part of the plan. Vincent told her a little but never got to fill her in, she hugged her knees closer, sitting on the bed. She could already hear people coming in and decided to wait before going out and seeing the others. For now she remained on her bed.

[General Scales]

Gear looked up from the floor at the guard who entered his room without the slightest interest. A few moments of silence passed before the human decided to speak up about a reassignment for the large cyborg. Gear could honestly careless where they put him and just started walking towards the basement level. He hear more than one set of footsteps behind him for part of the walk but it was back to just one by the time he ambled towards the proper door. He had nothing to say to the guard and walked in at a slow pace scanning the room as he moved. ~This is new.~ The cyborg thought, he had a right compared to the vacant room they had him in before with only a bed. The loud thuds resulting from him walking around, he figured, would give away the fact that he was in the area to whoever else was in the new space.

[politicalmind]

#02121809

I will have such revenges on you both,
That all the world shall--I will do such things,--
What they are, yet I know not: but they shall be
The terrors of the earth. - King Lear (2.4.305-9)

Subject #02121809 intensely watched an orderly escorted by a two guard (one armed with what appeared to be a spray can, the other noticeably had a holstered pistol) approach his lead-lined hellhole. If the creature posed any discernible facial expressions one would see a look of pure amusement plastered on his face as he simply reviled in the fear that he brought to those men who donned the white coats; #02121809 also reviled in the many gruesome possibilities that he formulated around the notion of dispatching these impudent fools. However, the creature knew better than to simply act on its whims as it was well aware that its oppressors were not too fond of the slaying their brethren, in fact after the ninth killing he was warned that the only punishment left for him would be death…death by fire.

Even with that in mind #02121809 could not help pondering why he killed those that held him here… was it for simply for pleasure, an uncontrollable primal instinct, or was it an inevitable product of Hegelian dialectics; he wanted his freedom thus he was bound to come into conflict with those that wanted his oppression. The most viable answer he could formulate at the moment seemed to be a combination of all three; an ideological conflict that he derived natural enjoyment out of. His philosophical musing was broken by the nervous orderly communicating with him telepathically as he possessed no mouth and claws severely limited the amount of sign language he was able to properly recreate.

“All right #02121809 it is time to get moving, you had your time to ready yourself. I hope you know we are under strict orders to transfer you safely to the predetermined location in a timely manner, so don’t try any funny business.”

#02121809 rolled his eyes before responding “Timely is a matter of perspective my dear lad, your interpretation of timely might differ from my interpretation of timely or your superior’s definition of timely. Who’s interpretation of timely are we following; yours, mine, your superior’s, your deity’s? In fact…”

Turning to a beefy guard on his right the orderly said “Lou, inform the smart-aleck of the fact we have a deadline to meet.”

Lou solemnly nodded as he took out a can of diluted liquid pollutant and sprayed it at #02121809 causing the subject to writhe in pain as the pollutant was absorbed into his skin.

“You brought that upon yourself as I tire of your insolence creature” said the orderly with a renewed sense of confidence. “Now you are going quietly follow me; I will reiterate you will quietly follow me to your new abode”, gesturing to his left “Frank here will carry those books that you have seemed to have been allowed to retain, while you quietly walk with your claws behind your back and your tail in sight or so help me God I will have Lou spray that vile concoction in your ugly face.”

While his body complied with the orders; #02121809’s mind was already crafting gruesome ways for this over-glorified errand boy and his thugs to meet their untimely demises. In between depictions of the coming slaughter to come, he swore he heard what seemed to be expressions of joy coming from down the hall; #02121809 had to wonder who could possibly be overjoyed about a simple room transfer.

‘Don’ Cicero Giovanna (#8675309)

The “Don” paced back and forth in his room, excitement simply radiating off of his fragile form; today was so like going to be the greatest day ever. Not only would he get to inspire fear in the hearts of his future subordinates, but he so had the opportunity to throw a spectacular slumber-party…his very first slumber-party; for a brief second the ‘Don’ attempted to recall the reason why he had not thrown a single slumber-party when he was lording over almost all of the Northeast’s syndicated crime, but could just not seem to remember the reason. Perhaps the reason that he didn’t throw a slumber-party was that he still hadn’t gathered enough resources gathered through extortion, prostitution, illegal narcotics, pirated goods and the sale of black market weapons to throw the most awesomely specular glitterfied slumber-party for all of 'the family.”

Wow, thinking sure could be like hard it times; his head was pounding like how that filthy rat Mendoza surely banged on the lid of his coffin for hours after Giovanna had ordered him to be buried alive, nobody pulls one over on 'the family'…nobody.

“Does this jumpsuit make my butt look big”, the ‘Don’ asked to himself while studying his reflection in a pane of glass. “I so hope this don’t make my butt look big, because as mommy said, ‘Cicero first impressions are like everything my little cannoli’”

The “Don” tenderly ran his hands all along his body giving off a voluptuous sensation; almost like he was touching someone else’s body; his blonde hair braided into pigtails, long legs, raised cheekbones, candy lips, slender frame, and other unique parts of his anatomy felt at times a tad unnatural.

He quickly shook those negative thoughts from his head as he was certainly no ‘Debbie Downer’; he just had to remember what good ole’ Frankie said about doubting yourself, ‘For what is a man, what has he got? If not himself, then he has naught.’ A smile spread across the “Don’s” face as nothing eased the mind like one of Frank Sinatra’s classic ditties. With a regained sense of composure his initial sense of excitement returned; it was going to be like so much fun to meet like new folks. He pulled a piece of wadded up gum out from behind his ear and eagerly began to chew on it; how could like someone not go throw the day without like a nice stick of gum.

“#8675309 are you ready to depart”, said an male orderly in a monotone voice.

The 'Don' let out a loud squeal of joy.

“Am I like ready to go? Am I like ready to go? Of course I am like ready to go I was like born ready to go. Like I was like wondering when it was time to go than like you showed up and like said ‘it is like time to go’ and I oh so, it is time to…”, the ‘Don’ pauses for a second to blow a bubble before continuing, “…go and then I was like I was ready to like go like when you first like told me to like pack my things because it was like almost time to go go go. Why do you like speak so funny mister, is it like because you are like not happy, well someone tol…err no some definitely sang like about happiness they were like’ it is like a warm like gun.’ Guns make me sooooo happy they are like fourth on the list of things that like make me happy; right bellow glitter, but above horses. Guess What! I once sent a man a horse’s head…just the head because he was like a jerk and I was like you will have to like put your horse back together again and he was like all scared and stuff and…”

Unfortunately for the aid the ‘Don’ continued to blabber on about a variety of topics all the way to their destination.

[Nytem4re]

6405047. It wasn’t his REAL name… But it the only thing that he could remember… There was a time when he did have a real name… But through all the injections they put him through, his memory was foggy. He could remember bits and parts, but never anything important about his past. All he wanted to do was survive. He’d eventually find a way out… After all, he had found the blind spots in the camera’s arc of sight. He had made a few guards “disappear” in interesting ways already. He had convinced himself if he was smart enough to do that, It would be enough to get him out. But, for now, he would need to wait... He heard the cell block door open and in came a squad of armed guards. The facility did not allow guards alone with him anymore, after those “accidents” that had occurred with the first guards. “#6405047, you will be under armed escort while you transfer rooms. You will be under close watch… Remember that.” They handcuffed him and headed to a separate area of the asylum. There were whispers from the guards as they walked. They were discussing what he could be- A robot? A demon? #6405047 disregarded the comments, and soon reached their destination. They punched in the code for the keypad and pushed him in. It seemed to be living quarters of some sort...

[politicalmind]

Mama Bear (#04221870)

It was hard not to hear Mama Bear traverse through the halls; the clanking of metal on the lead-lined floor was a clear indication to any person wishing to find her, though at the moment she was not dealing with people instead her artificial intelligence was focused on a small mouse scurrying on the floor.

“Comrade Mouse, I regret to inform you that profiteering is a counter-revolutionary activity punishable by death. I have been ordered by the state to carry out sentencing on you; if you admit to your transgressions Comrade Mouse I might only eat you …quickly putting you out of your misery. Did you or Did you not take food form the Worker’s pantry with the intent to illegally provide it to your brethren?”

The mouse looked up at the metal monstrosity and attempted to scurry away, but before it could get far a paw landed on its back with enough pressure to stop any attempt of escape as it pinned the rodent on the floor.

“Comrade Mouse, I must also inform you that attempting to flee from sentencing is also a counter-revolutionary action and thus illegal under the Soviet Civil Code. This is your last chance; do you admit to your many transgressions against the glorious Soviet Union?”

The mouse of course only let out frightened squeaks as it was in fact just a plain old mouse. Before Mama Bear could carry out sentencing she noticed that someone was changing her internal memory banks on an external machine.

<Please Enter Four Digit Code To Gain Access To This Unit’s A.I. Comrade>: ****:

<What Are You Looking To Do Comrade?> :Change Primary Directive:

< Are You Sure You Wish To Change Primary Directive from Rodent Elimination Comrade>: Yes:

<What Is #04221870’s New Primary Directive Comrade>:Head to the basement level for residence reassignment:

<Processing…………Primary Directive Successfully Changed; Do svidaniya Comrade!>

Mama Bear lifted her paw and let the mouse scamper off as it seemed the elimination of those counter-revolutionary mice was no longer an issue. It seemed that the State has determined that she report to the lower levels for room reassignment and she was happy to oblige. The sound of clanking metal resonated throughout the hallways, until the half-bear/half-machine navigated the stairs down to the basement.

[Shiftipher]

Most of the subjects were probably putting up quite a fight as the guards drug them down to the basement, flailing, punching, kicking, screaming... Pulling out all the stops. Not Subject 2769, though. 2769 was too busy watching the necklace one of the guards was holding in front of her. It was sterling silver with plastic, red, jewels, but that was plenty shiny enough for the little magpie of a girl. Each step create a clack, due to the heeled boots she had been trained to walk in. After all the training, they figured it would be silly to let her skill fall, so they made sure to keep them on her at all times. Opposed to being handcuffed or anything brutal, all the guards had to do to keep her contained was hold her hands. The feather covered hips swayed softly with each step she took, each step being quite fast as she was trying to chase after the gems held in front of her. When they finally reached the basement, one of the guards tossed the necklace into the living room as the both let go of her hands. 2769 dashed to the shiny accessory and sat on the floor with it, finally noticing that she was not in her room.

"O-Oh..."

She held the necklace close to her chest, standing up slowly and looking around a bit for somebody who didn't seem too frightening. Everybody was so big and scary, event he shiny one could snap her in two. If that wasn't bad enough, her wings were being weighed down as usual by the lead braces around her wrists, making it impossible to fly... although, the ceiling was much too low for that anyway. She shied away from the people currently in the basement, until spotting a man with a large, black bird on his shoulder. Her head tilted a bit, light bouncing off the black locks like glass. She carefully sneaked up behind the man, watching the bird curiously and looking back and forth between the raven and herself.

"H-Hello?"

Her soft voice was shaky, but sweet, like an untrained canary looking for a friend.

[Aikalynn]

"Beautiful dreamer, wake unto me,
Starlight and dewdrops are waiting for thee;"

The song was sung very gently, hardly heard above the common noise emitted from this place. Still, once one had caught wind of it, it was easy to distinguish. The words were soft, the voice gentle as it always did. The reactions to the song varied; from stunned silence to outright rage, the source of the voice was, as ever, calm and collected.

"Sounds of the rude world, heard in the day,
Lull'd by the moonlight have all pass'd away!"

Still, as she walked, white hair and dress trailing behind her, to those that saw her, she was an illusion--a hallucination. She wasn't truly an inmate, and yet there she was. Ageless. Untouchable. Unnerving and unwavering by anything around her. The song was somewhat nostalgic to her, and for whatever reason, made her feel better. She wasn't sad or anything though, so why would she need to feel better?

"Beautiful dreamer, queen of my song,
List while I woo thee with soft melody;"

Said melody continued. She walked alone, unlike many of the others, and for some reason went about unnoticed by the guards. Was it because she usually did as she was told? No, it was because of...

"Gone are the cares of life's busy throng,
Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!"

She waltzed right into the room, almost slithering past, still singing. If one was looking closely, she was completely jovial. She danced around for a short bit, spinning on her heel and clasping both hands to her chest, as if issuing a prayer.

"Beautiful dreamer, awake unto me!"

Compared to most of the inmates' reactions, her own actions were, well, very out of place. She bowed after her performance, and without waiting for a reaction, sat down in a corner of the room, knees to her chest, and that serene smile on her face. Not another peep came out of her, and she stared only ahead, avoiding eye contact.