------

Hello?
Is there anybody in there?
Just nod if you can hear me,
Is there anyone at home?

------

It was four-thirty in the morning. Nurse Buck was an hour early for work.

This time of the morning, the Institute was as quiet as it ever got. Most creatures eventually fell into the rhythm of sleeping during the lights-out period, and waking during the lights-on one. It was a sleep cycle Buck still struggled with, being naturally nocturnal, and he was not alone: so it was never actually silent in the asylum.

At least, it never used to be silent in the asylum. Now that there were thirteen patients instead of the eighty-nine Buck had once helped care for, it was almost eerily quiet at night… and at times just like his first moments that particular morning. The vacant rooms were starting to fill with a pale, silvery blue pre-dawn light. It leaked dimly into the Institute’s hallways through the undarkened windows, adding an almost ethereal glow to the dim and recessed lighting that made the hallways navigable during lights-out. For just like there was never a time when all the patients slept at once, there was never a time when all the lights were truly out at Osmond’s Institute.

Though he was technically an hour early, Buck was running behind. His petite frame did not lend itself to large strides but he walked faster than much taller men without seeming to hurry. His yellow and black sneakers flashed in silent rhythm across the black and white checkered linoleum of the patient care areas. Clad in all black, the Cainite was little more than a rapid shadow making a beeline for the Central Nurse’s station.

Morgan Osmond had a very bad habit of dumping patients on the nurses with no notice or advance preparation. Buck could only be grateful that his boss had thought to send word last night that another group of the committed would arrive this morning. Buck had not had a chance to look at their files or do any sort of preparation in gearing up for their care. Morgan was fond of making people squirm: both the patients and the staff. It infuriated the little vampire. He hated being ill-prepared for anything.

So he’d meant to get in at three-thirty instead of four-thirty, giving himself a chance to thoroughly review the files. Since he’d been effectively living in his third floor quarters for a year now, it shouldn’t have been difficult… but then there’d been that fight with the alarm clock.

He waved the apparently blank white keycard attached to his shirt pocket in front of an equally blank looking black square on the door to the station. It unlocked with an audible click and Buck proceeded inside. There, on the counter just inside the doorway, was the stack of new patient files.

The vampire opened them all, laid them out on the counter, and began unlocking cabinets as he referenced the sheets of paper. Some species were unfamiliar and some he knew well. For the common species he knew which medications to procure; others required guidance from the files. He was working with frightening speed. Syringes were ripped from their sterile little packets, filled from the assorted vials Buck had pulled from stainless steel cupboards, and the needles then re-capped. As each chemical cocktail was completed, the petite nurse assigned them a carefully written label.

‘Rhorak’, read one. ‘Aniella’, said another. Then, ‘Simone’, ‘Hanneli’, ‘Aleksandrina’, 'Dante' and 'Alice'.

They were just names now, letters and numbers on sheets of paper. Soon enough they’d be faces… voices… sad, cruel stories… heaps of hurts and harms lost in their own shattered psyches. From patient files to patients. Patients he didn’t want to see slip away. Though Morgan had assured Buck -once, long ago- that the comas weren’t a result of anything he was doing wrong, it still left the taste of failure in Buck’s mouth.

Once all the syringes were filled and primed they were neatly arranged into a slim, rectangular, plastic case clearly designed to hold them. All their labels faced up. Having a sedative injection prepped and on hand for each new patient had proved incredibly helpful for him in times past. Even on occasions where he hadn’t needed them, Buck had never felt like he wasted time on the preparation.

As he was putting the last of the vials back in their places, the plastic case in his front right pocket, Buck heard the door to the central nurse’s station click to unlock again. The petite man sighed inwardly. This time of the morning, in this room, it could only be one person.

“Good morning, bloodsucker.”

Buck rolled his eyes and said, “Good of you to show up a whole five minutes early, mortal.”

Jean St. Croix huffed, stuck out her tongue at the back of Buck’s head, then hopped up to take a seat on the counter… planting her ass on the vampire’s neatly organized file array. He heard the sound of paper rustling, turned, and frowned at her.

“Really?” the petite man said, a touch of weariness coloring his voice. “I don’t like you any more than you like me, but I don’t go out of my way to make your life difficult.”

“You could have left the vials out for me,” she observed coolly, leaning back on her left palm… and twisting it a little, to wrinkle up the paper.

Buck shut the cabinet firmly, locked it, and then turned to look at Jean. Though she knew better, for a moment the female nurse really did forget who she was dealing with. She met his stare, and found that she couldn’t break it when the moment drew out. Jean couldn’t turn her head as Buck approached. He stopped about three feet from where she was sitting on his stack of files, and Jean could do nothing but stare down into his luminous golden eyes.

“Move.”

It was a small word, soft and not at all threatening, but Jean found her body moving before the syllable had even finished leaving the vampire’s lips. She hopped lightly off the counter and took two steps to the right. Then Jean stood motionless as Buck smoothed out his mussed files, closed them, stacked them neatly, and gathered them to his chest. He waved his badge in front of the black key box and it popped open, allowing him to return the medication cabinet key to its place inside. He knew as well as Jean did that if he didn’t log the key back in that way, any shortages or a missing key would be his fault. He shut the box, then pushed open the door. Jean couldn’t see Buck at all, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

“You now have twenty-four minutes to gather your injections and get your team prepped for the new arrivals before lights-on. Good luck.”

The thrall broke when the nurses’ station door clicked shut. Jean’s legs buckled and she collapsed into a shaking heap on the floor. She was dizzy from the momentary spell and quivering not with fear… but anger. It would take another minute for her to regain the ability to walk.

“You’ll pay for that, little man,” the woman growled through gritted teeth.

------

Come on now,
I hear you're feeling down:
I can ease your pain,
And get you on your feet again!

------

Buck and his team were gathered near the gymnasium end of the hall. Although he’d prepped injections for all the new patients, he and Jean divided the new arrivals into two groups their first day. She watched over half, and he watched over half. Much as he disliked the woman, she did a passable job and managed to be less bitchy to everyone else than she was to him. She and her team of three male nurses would see to the first three new patients, while Buck and his team of two female nurses would see to the second three patients.

The two women who stood facing their ancient vampiric supervisor had the same face. That was to say that their facial features were exactly the same; they were painted, however, with different colors. Farrah was blonde and had eyes that were a subtly unnatural navy blue. They didn’t glow or anything, but who had blue eyes so dark they were almost black? Her skin was medium toned and tanned on top of that. She was five foot eight or so, taller than he was, and built like a gymnast. Clara had the same nose, eye and brow shape, lips, jawline, and ears that Farrah did. But her hair was like liquid copper, eyes a light though entirely natural shade of green. Clara’s skin was milky white, limbs slender and graceful, and she was petite in stature, at least three inches shorter than his own five-six. Not at all athletic like Farrah was.

He could find neither of them attractive because of that face. It was the face that told him the bone structure was the same. While the body type, eye color, hair color, and height could change, their faces did not. It was subtle enough that it had taken a while for even Buck to notice that all the new nurses were actually somehow the same woman. And not just the same woman, the same man on the flip side of the coin. The male version was more attractive than the female, with a square jaw and fine, sharp facial features. He wore different beards and shades of stubble, different heights and hairs like the women, but he had that same faintly handsome, somewhat reserved face. It had been disturbing, to say the least. Some of the patients (especially those who hallucinated frequently) never noticed it at all.

Buck wasn’t the sort who talked about personal matters with his co-workers, so he’d never really asked about their families or pasts. By the time most of the other nurses had been replaced with these same-face supernaturals, the vampire was pretty sure he didn’t want to hear the answers he might get.

Clara was mildly gifted as a magical healer, and like all the Sibling nurses, much stronger and faster than a normal human. She was soft-spoken, and with her small stature it was sort of deceiving. She could be rather brutal physically, and had a bad habit of strangling her patients… until she had killed one by mistake six years ago, and had come to work the next day almost a different person. Since then, Clara had sometimes struggled to do the things Morgan asked of her. Farrah was a very weak telepath, and had somehow managed to develop that talent into a super-effective psychic block. Her particular brand of cruelty was more in the channels of psychological torture instead of physical methods.

“I’m going to handle the Ragdoll, Aniella, this morning. Her native language is Italian, which I speak, but according to her file she has an aversion to males. If she panics at the sight of me, I’ll have to send one of you for Regianne.”

The two women nodded in unison.

“Farrah,” Buck continued, “You’re going to be dealing with Hanneli this morning. She’s a non-Earth patient, so be sure your translator is on in case she can’t speak English. She’s also a powerful psychic talent, and her gifts are directly involved with her illness. Be very careful, and make sure you read her file thoroughly. She’s the only one in the group who’s a transfer from downstairs.”

Farrah nodded, took the file Buck offered, and continued listening as he handed off the next file to Clara. “You’ve drawn Aleksandrina today. She’s a witch, but without the light of a full moon she shouldn’t be too difficult to manage…”

------

…Relax…
I'll need some information first.
Just the basic facts:
Can you show me where it hurts?

------

It was five forty-eight AM, and Jean was handing out files to her team of nurses in the Central Station. She was sitting on the counter again.

Her Siblings were three males, absolutely identical except for their facial hair. Six feet tall, broad-shouldered, with deep chests and heavy bone structure. Their hair was jet black, their eyes dark violet. One was clean-shaven, one had a goatee, and one had a full, thick, well-trimmed beard.

“Okay, so, first off we have Rhorak the Shadowborn,” Jean said, and offered the manila folder to the goatee wearing nurse. “He’s all yours. Got your new flashlight?”

The man took the file with one hand and pulled the overpowered penlight out of his breast pocket with the other. “Yes ma’am,” he replied.

Jean smiled, and nodded.

“Then we have Simone,” she intoned, offering the file to her clean-shaven Sibling nurse. “Tony, you’ll be dealing with her. She’s some sort of wolf…vampire… bat… thing. Wait, why did I not give this one to the bloodsucker, then? Anyway, be careful.”

Tony nodded, taking the file and skimming over it.

“Last but not least, we have Dante the Magician.” Jean handed the file to her bearded subordinate. “He’s an illusionist, but he can’t cast without an incantation. If he starts acting up, show him how real magic is done, okay?”

The bearded man nodded… and grinned.

“So, we all know the deal, right?” Jean asked, meeting each of their indigo gazes in turn. “For the first twenty-four hours, we have to play nice which means no marks and nothing out-of-control verbally, unless the patients act up. I’ll let you know when we revert to standard operating procedure.”

Just as Buck’s two Sibling nurses had done, Jean’s three nodded at exactly the same time. Since they were so physically similar, it looked particularly eerie on them… in a way that the female nurse rather liked.

------

Okay.
Just a little pin prick,
There'll be no more AAAAAAAH!
…But you may feel a little sick.

------

It was ten minutes before dawn when the lights came on at Osmond’s Institute. That was just the lights in the main hallways and all the rooms downstairs, however, and the moment at six o’clock sharp when all the patients’ doors unlocked at once. Buck, Jean, and their crews of Sibling nurses stood at the ready. Buck’s duo simply re-locked the doors to the new patient rooms, while Jean’s three went right into their new charges’ quarters.

Buck and his team cared for the existing patients first. Existing patients weren’t expected to get up until eight, but it was practice to check on them all through the windows in their doors at lights-on. Though most of the doors he peeked through were into darkened rooms where he could see patients still sleeping in their beds, at one door he was greeted with a bright light and a pair of black wings.

“Good morning, Jax. How are you feeling today?” the petite vampire asked, reaching into the inky black feathers to Velcro the Corvinian’s scrub top together around his unusual anatomy.

“Better than. Yesterday,” the raven-man replied. Though he understood English perfectly, it was still difficult for him to actually make the proper sounds to speak it. “Not. As good as. TomarRAAH!”

The last part of ‘tomorrow’ actually sounded more like the call of a raven, but Buck understood. It also sounded like something Jax might have been trained to say to his superiors wherever it was he was schooled.

“I suppose that’s one way to look at things,” was Buck’s only reply. He patted the last bit of Velcro in place and stepped back out into the hallway. “There you are.”

“Thank. You,” the birdman said.

“Of course.”

Then Buck was off again, peeking into all the occupied rooms to ensure that everyone was still sleeping. Jax made his way over to Cadie’s door just after the vampire passed, and peered inside. Buck frowned a little, but kept walking. That was a problem for another day.

Today, he had to finish checking on all the established patients, and then… he got to go deal with Aniella. He was genuinely curious about the Ragdoll: he’d heard of them during medical school, but had never actually seen one as they were quite rare. He was hoping that for once his unimposing physical stature would work to his benefit… although it had been a long time since someone had been terrified of him at first glance, and that might be a refreshing change.

-||- Cadence -||-

In the night ahead, there’s a light
Upon this house on a hill;
Living, living still.
Their intention is to kill,
And they will, they will.



Soft, warm sunlight was filtering down through the windows over the kitchen table as Cadence thoughtfully chewed a mouthful of scrambled eggs. She didn’t turn when her younger brothers came crashing down the stairs: the two of them sounded like a herd of elephants wherever they went. Chase went streaking by, spilling a glass of orange juice as he attempted to snag a piece of toast on the run. Her father leapt up from the table, and her mother turned from the stove to yell at the boy. Cadie rose from her place and stepped over to the fridge, grabbing the towel that hung from the handle. She found her mother’s hand on her wrist, and when she looked up at the older woman, the lined face was sad.

“Cadence, it’s time to wake up.”

It didn’t sound like her mother’s voice, and then someone knocked loudly on a steel door.

“What?”

Somehow, the word was lost in the darkness between dreaming and waking. Cadence tried to open her eyes and immediately cried out. While the right one came open, the left one only sent a stab of pain into the back of her skull and stayed defiantly dark.

“What…” she licked her lips, raising a hand to her face. “What happened?”

Her naturally soft voice was furthermore cracked and hoarse from all the screaming she’d done the previous afternoon. Cadie’s nurse probably didn’t even actually hear her so much as guess at what the mutant had said.

“Don’t touch it,” a cruel female voice replied. It was one of the two red-haired nurses, whose name Cadie had never bothered to learn. “You ripped the brackets off your therapy chair again, and this time you cut your eyelid. Then you had a seizure and bashed up your face.”

For a moment, Cadence wanted to sob. What had her life come to, that she’d torn her own eyelid open when her telekinetic powers desperately reached out to end the torture Osmond’s liked to call ‘desensitization therapy’? It was a cruel device that propped her eyelids open, making her unable to look away from the display screen. She’d broken it (and hurt herself breaking it) many times before… but that was part of the therapy, she supposed. She only had to learn how to tolerate it and not hurt herself. Of course, some guidance would have been appreciated… but they just strapped her to the chair, time and again saying nothing as they left the room.

“Oh,” was the only thing she uttered aloud, little more than an exhaled breath. She licked her lips.

Then bony fingers found their ginger, flinching way across her face. A heavy pad was laid from her left cheekbone to her eyebrow, the sensation beneath a tangled mess of pain. She could feel how swollen it was. A gauze wrap was wound around her head to keep the pad in place. The young woman felt cold, suddenly, and realized that she was wearing nothing more than a paper gown.

“So,” the nurse said after a moment, “you don’t get your morning sedative because you had a shot late last night. Instead, you get pain medicine. You’re not supposed to wear a scrub top, you can use this tie-gown as a top instead. Wear it with normal pants.”

She dropped the pink gown onto Cadie’s knees. The young woman was still laying on her side in bed, looking up at the nurse.

“Well, come on,” the nurse prodded, grabbing the younger woman’s bicep and jerking her upright. “I haven’t got all day.”

The swift movement sent a jolt of pain through Cadie’s head, and a low moan escaped her lips. She felt nauseous, the edges of her vision turning grey. The nurse gripped her elbow and twisted her arm, forcing the telekinetic to expose the vein on the inside of the bend.

“Quit your whining. You’ll feel fine in just a second.”

Between that second and the promised one, a needle tore an expertly brutal hole. Cadie ground her teeth to keep from crying out again before the momentary burn of medicine dissipated into pleasant warmth throughout her body. Bitchy as the nurse was…

“…you’re right.” Again, they were words so soft they would not have been heard except in the silence of Cadie’s room. She licked her lips twice.

The redhead grinned wolfishly. “Yeah, enjoy that shit. And go get yourself some breakfast. You’re authorized for the elevator today.”

The nurse released Cadence, and the girl sank back down into her bed. She had no idea what sort of pain medicine that was; it made her feel disconnected, dizzy and… light. Her body and face were comfortably numb but chemicals couldn’t dull the hurt in her soul. If this was a proper hospital, they would have had brought her something to eat in her room. Unfortunately, this was Osmond’s. Even though she was hurt and now doped up, she was on her own to get breakfast.

And Cadie needed her breakfast.

Luckily for the young woman, a black beak -and the feathery head attached to it- was peeking around the edge of her door.

------

In this house on a hill,
The dead are living still!
Their intention is to kill,
And they will, they will.

------

Jax had waited patiently outside as Cadie struggled into her clothing for the day. Her gown was tied under where her breasts should have been and again around her bony, boyish hips. The medicine coupled with her slight stature made her cold so she had the blanket from her bed folded up and draped around her shoulders. She’d chosen dark purple pants and black slippers to complete her ugly outfit. The mutant hung on to her Corvinian friend’s arm for balance as she shuffled through the main hallway. Jax had offered to carry her, but being cradled in his arms was more than Cadence could handle.

Her palm opened the door to the elevator, which had no buttons and only went down one level. Still, it meant she didn’t have to tackle stairs today… that was good, because with one eye bandaged her depth perception was definitely off. This time of the morning, the cafeteria wasn’t crowded. She was pretty sure that she saw one new face, but she wasn’t interested in talking to anybody. She didn’t need to talk to Jax: he knew what should be done, and did it.

After depositing the wobbly telekinetic at a table, the raven-man went to the steam lines. It took him three trips to bring all the food Cadie would eat for breakfast. Heaping plates of scrambled eggs, sausage, bacon, hash browns, bagels with cream cheese, a chocolate chocolate-chip muffin, oatmeal with butter and honey, a bowl of fruit salad, coffee, orange juice and milk. Jax took one more trip for himself, returning with a tray of assorted gruels he poured down his beak.

Cadie supposed that having a bird mouth and a human stomach posed some issues.

It also wasn’t like she could judge anyone on anything about eating, ever. Wings included, Jax was easily three times her weight and ate half of what she did. Though she tried not to cram too much into her mouth at once, it disappeared with frightening rapidity. Generally she’d make a trip to the lines, eat what she’d got, then return to the lines… but since she wasn’t capable of that today, she just had to try to eat the warm things before they got cold. Back home, she’d eaten in her room, alone: she couldn’t handle the stares she’d gotten from the other patients upon seeing the content of her meals. Here in Osmond’s Institute, a boyish waif of a mutant consuming enough food for three grown men hardly even registered as unusual.

So, it meant there were bright sides to be found, if one looked for them. She wasn’t a freak for her eating habits here, and she’d somehow managed to acquire a bodyguard/personal assistant to help her out on rough days. And even though Cadie couldn’t count Jax as a friend…

“Thank you,” she murmured, pausing with a spoon halfway to her mouth. Soft green eyes found his familiar, feathered face. “For helping me today.” She licked her lips twice.

Cadie suspected that ravens heard better than humans, because Jax never seemed to miss her barely-uttered words. He couldn’t smile with his hard beak, but the faint puffing of his feathers at the base of his neck could easily be translated into something like pride or affection.

“Welcome.” Jax croaked, turning one of his black eyes at Cadie. “You. Woulddo. Same.”

“I would,” the mutant whispered, nodding and licking her lips. Inwardly, cringingly, she couldn’t help but think that she actually wasn’t able to take care of Jax the way he took care of her. Without her telekinesis, she couldn’t have supported his weight down the hallway. In making her too weak to do damage, the Institute had also rendered her incapable of helping if she wanted to.

And the brightness she’d found moments earlier… faded.

------

Somewhere in the end we’re all insane,
To think the light ahead
Will save us from this pain!

------

Night.

Oh, how I love you.

The one time I can focus, thanks to all the annoying patients shutting up.

Y'know, if I close my eyes tight enough, maybe I can imagine it being the moon.

Rhorak squeaked his left eye a millimeter.

Nope.

He shut his eye immediately

The door threw itself open. The loud thud reverberated through the empty room, causing Rhorak to wince. He could only imagine the look on his Sibling's face. But Rhorak couldn't resist it. He had to see the guy's face in real time. Never ceased to surprise him.

This is gonna be gre- What's with this asshole?

The guy didn't even flinch. Rhorak was a sight to behold, and he didn't even bat an eye. Rhorak's right arm was twisted underneath his left leg, and his left arm wrapping behind his head, balancing himself perfectly on the limestone flooring. Rhorak teetered, and he collapsed on the floor. How could this guy not at least raise an eyebrow?

"Alright buddy. I would say rise and shine, but looks like you've been shining for quite a while."

The lights that illuminated Rhorak's limp body seemed to shine even brighter. Rhorak was a bit of a rebel. He didn't enjoy taking orders from anybody, and this guy wanted him to just get up? Rhorak quietly ignored him as he stood up, twisted his arms backwards into what looked like a joint-snapping position, and threw himself backwards, landing on his thumb and ring finger. Rhorak relaxed again, and he began to think about the day. He enjoyed taking a few minutes to reflect on the previous day, and what he planned to do today.

This guy is impressive, I gotta give it to him. I shouldn't give him a hard time. First impressions mean a lot. Which means I really need to stay in control today. Focus.

The nurse stood there undeterred. He fiddled with a small object in his hand, smacked it a few times, then an extremely powerful beam shot through the lamps set up at the sides of the room, making the light from them seem like nothing.

Rhorak snarled inwardly. I'm not going to lose control, I'm not going to lose control

He shined it directly in Rhorak's eyes.

I am NOT going to attack this guy, I swear... I wont!

The nurse walked over to Rhorak, took a second to observe, and shook him up.

Oops

Right in the spot where the nurse's hand had been, sharp spikes a few inches long pierced the light straight towards the nurse's hand. Had the nurse's fast reflexes not taken effect, he'd have a gaping hole in the middle of his hand. However, only a deep gash remained.

"Well aren't you a feisty one? First time taking care of a patient, and I get the gash? Asshole." The nurse fuddled with his pockets a few seconds, finally pulling out two syringes. Rak was out of control at that point. His body was frozen, although hundreds of spikes were appearing all across his body, all attempting to do serious damage to the nurse, but the bright lights rendered them only a few inches long. His face was one of pure rage. The nurse took one syringe, and stabbed it into his arm.

"Pain killers." He explained. He then took the other syringe, and stabbed it right into Rak's neck. The spikes on Rak started to slow down, fade away.

"A little bit more than pain killers." He smirked, pulling Rak down to a normal standing position. The nurse stood back for a second, then applauded.

"Most humans wouldn't be able to stand after the amount of sedative I just injected into you. Now, let's see if you can think still. I'm Kyle. I'm escorting you today around Osmond's Institute, where you are staying. You will listen to whatever I say or get beaten, somehow. Got it? Let's go."

Kyle escorted Rak out the door, walking him to the lunchroom.

_____________________

Rhorak sat at an empty lunchtable, still sedated. Rubbing his head, he groaned. He had to make sure he played the part of weakened patient to his nurse, or else his nurse may go farther. The sedatives Kyle gave him were extremely little to a Shadowborn, but it was enough to get him dazed, loopy, for a minute. Taking a look back, and seeing that Kyle wasn't paying attention to him anymore, Rak allowed his feet and part of his leg flow into the shadow underneath the table, and slowly fluid started to pool underneath. Although medicine does affect him, by turning into shadows the medicine will simply fall where it was supposed to be, effectively separating it from Rak. After a few minutes of this, Rak restored his legs and feet, and stood up. He stretched, finally feeling free of the medicine. Rak decided he was going to pay a quick visit to Kyle, see if he could at least fix his mistake that morning a little bit. Rak walked over to where Kyle was standing.

"Hey. Sorry about this morning. Did they not tell you how much I hate lights and people moving me? You'd think they'd tell you something like that. Careful next time, alright? Then you don't have to have two gashes in your hand."

Kyle groaned, clearly feeling above this. "I would say I didn't sign up for this, but I kinda did. Leave me alone. You don't deserve to mingle with us nurses. Have fun with your playmates." Kyle shined the light into Rak's eyes, made sure Rak stumbled back a bit, and pushed the handful of pain-in-the-ass he was presented by Jean away from him.

Kyle whispered under his breath, "How'd I manage to get this guy?"

Rak forced his eyes as far closed as they could be. As much as the situation pained him, he knew he had to keep focus now of all times. He walked back to the table he was sitting at.

Well, I already screwed one thing up, and look where it got me. How long does this torture last? Shadowborn's don't die from age, we die from fading away from light. As much light as they've exposed me to, I'd calculate it'd take another 3234 years before I am even close. Though if he shines that high-powered light at me... Nevertheless, that's a long time. I hate this already. Considering the screaming of other patients I heard last night, I must not be the only one. Let's find someone.

He stood up, and searched among the busy tables in the lunchroom, looking for somebody in as much pain as he was.

Dante hadn't gotten much sleep the night prior. The moment his eyes shut the screams of his sister that fateful night sounded as clear as ever. He couldn't sleep. He couldn't hear those screams another moment. He had been sitting up on his bed, legs folded comfortably beneath him. He was lucky enough that they allowed him to keep the cards. Though not without giving them a terrible bending looking for anything concealed within them. They were already old with the edges worn down and brown from dirt. They couldn't take much more of a beating before they were useless. But he wouldn't let that happen. Emilia loved that deck of cards. It the backs had paintings of animals on them. Though most of the pictures had worn off. They were still sentimental.

He idly folded and shuffled the deck of cards carefully and with expert precision. He had shuffled this very deck nearly a million times since the first day he had it. No wonder it was falling apart. As he played with the deck of cards he stared at the far of wall, lost in his thoughts.

'Emilia. Where are you?' He thought to himself, The words echoed in his mind as if waiting for it to reach Emilia's ears and get a response. But no words returned to him. It was silence. A double edged sword. Emilia wasn't there but neither was the voice. The dark entity that invaded his soul and daily tries to stake claim. But he wouldn't let that happen. He couldn't. If that voice took over who would show Emilia new tricks? She loved his tricks. He couldn't let you be bored and want to leave. No no, never leave. That wasn't an option.

'She must not be responding because she is back in Sicily, trying to find my chocolates. Yes, that's it. She loves searching for my hidden candy back home. She will be back soon. Of course she will. No need to worry.' He reasoned to himself. Lost in his thoughts to the point he didn't even realize he was still shuffling the deck of cards.

'You know she's dead right? A deep, raspy voice spoke out within his mind. It was him. Apparently he wouldn't get to spend some time without the irritating voice chiming in with his unwanted two cents. 'Burnt to a crisp remember. Like a marshmallow stoked in a fire too long.'

"Shut up!" He called out rather loudly in a demanding tone, "Shut up..." he echoed the command in a whisper.

'Sorry. Have a struck a cord? Are you upset you were too much of a bitch to go in and save her. Don't forget that it's your fault she is dead. You left her there to char.' The voice said matter of factly, his tone conveying the wicked grin.

"And remember you are only an empty voice in the back of my head with no power..." He reminded in a hiss no louder than a whisper through a clenched jaw.

'For now...' The voice trail off with laughter that slowly faded into silence.

Before he could dwell on the matter for another moment he heard the latch of the cell open with a loud clank, echoing within the small room. Dante slipped into his usual facade, broad grin bearing white teeth. A confident look that hid the terror behind his eyes. He tried his best to act normal, not letting people see the strings that barely held him together. He was a clown with a painted on mask.

He stuffed his carded into the pocket of his patient uniform, keeping them out of sight. As the door slid open with a deafening screech a man stepped in, a stoic look to his face as if he had hardly the time for games. But games were Dante's favorite thing.

Dante easily jumped to his feet. With a flourish and the bow of his head he greeted the nurse with an elegant decree. "Why the best of mornings to you sir. Though I regretfully must inform that I had not requested any wake up service. But, if you so happen to have a chocolate for my pillow I would graciously take it off your hands." He stated in an charming accent, holding out his hand with his palm up awaiting his chocolate treat. The man did not seem even the slightest impressed nor amused. Surely if it were a woman she would have found it charming; or at least he tried to reason.

"You need to make your way to the Cafeteria and have your meal. I have medicine for you." He instructed without even a hint of emotion. No showmanship. Surely this man was not a man who loved his job. And one thing you did not want a man doing who did not love his job doing is stabbing you with a needle. Which he so happened to be doing. How rude, and not even a loli to make the ouchy all better.

The syringe emptied quickly and the liquid worked faster than expected. Outwardly from his arm he felt a warm sensation followed by the distinct affect of no longer giving a crap. Which was nice if he had to admit. "You know..." he began, a tad less formal as it had been prior. "If I wanted to spend my morning getting High.. you could have left me in London." He informed with a swipe of a finger across his nose.

And with that he was off. A long step that seemed to throw him into motion, coming to an abrupt halt in the center of the hallway, a quick spin on his heels and he was off once more though now down the hallway and towards the stairs. The 'Cafeteria' signs were a large help when navigating through the halls. For a moment he thought he was alone but the sharp poke at his back to hurry up was a not so kind reminder that he was not.

Three wrong turns and an awkward elevator ride with Sir happy later he had found himself in the large mess hall. Apparently not many had arrived yet. It was only some strange fellow, a tiny girl that seemed to have three stomachs, and a.... 'Dear god.. Did his mother get fucked by a pigeon!?' the voice chimed back in at the sight of the raven/humanoid creature. 'Apparently..' Dante responded in his own thoughts, a rare moment the two were both in agreement and equal shock.

Dante tried his best not to stare, walking over to where the two lines met before separating going in different ways. He was a bit set back, looking off to one side it was a rather grotesque display of all things.... Well gross if he were to be completely Frank. Frank being a man he knew in London who was awfully blunt and mildly dimwitted. Though as his eyes fell upon the pig hearts his annoying mental companion apparently just had to chirp up. 'Ooh.. Those look tasty.. Not nearly as good as a human heart but I am in no position to judge. Come on, just a bite Dante....' The voice chirped, nearly begging. 'Not a chance. I am getting pancakes. And I thought I told you to shut up.' Luckily it wasn't close to his birthday, he had little power to refuse Dante and continue his incessant pleading. He grabbed a tray and a plate, walking casually through the line he deemed delicious and began his raid upon the great lands of flavor until he has won the conquest against the dreadful rumble within his stomach.

He grabbed pancakes, fluffy and still steaming with warmth as if they were made out of a dream. He drowned the poor thing in butter and syrup before moving on. He stacked his plate with bacon and sausage, a couple sunny side up ends in the corner trying to keep clear of the syrup river that flowed rich in this land. He still continued on. He grabbed toast, an onion ring or seven, a bundle of grapes, some cream cheese with a dash of bagel and a slather of strawberry jam and an apple to keep the doctor away of course. Ever since he had been given the powers of real magic it messed with his body chemistry, burning calories at an accelerated rate. He could hardly keep up with it to be honest.

The somehow skinny Italian waddled his way to an empty table, dropping his tray on the metal surface with an obnoxiously loud bang; he cared little for the eyes that may fall upon such a clatter of noise. He began to think if he were fed this nicely every morning this place didn't seem so bad. Though assuredly he would regret those words soon enough.

Once upon a time she had been a bring of great power.

Then she made the mistake of holding an intelligent conversation with her shadow while her sister Olga was in the room and now she was trapped in a space where the moon could not hold her and she was subject to the whims of the suns long fingers. Sasha blamed the shadow, she had always suspected that its allegiances lay with the sun.

The sharp cruel light of morning had driven her away from the uncomfortable cot that served as a bed, until she was crouched into the corner of the small room next to the door, a hiss bubbling in the space between her tongue and her teeth.

This was where the nurse found her, cowering and weak willed. It was a simple matter for the one called Clara to haul Sasha to her feet, even though Sasha whimpered and hid her face from the light of the corridor with curled fists. That kind of light did not harm her but her first instinct was always to draw away from it.

“Hold out your arm, Aleksandrina,” Clara crooned. “It will only hurt for a moment.”

In a moment that was approximately the length of time that Sasha would have been hurt by the needle, the fair Russian witch leaned over and bit her nurse, sharp teeth sinking into pale skin as though Clara was soft like clay.

Sasha was a particularly talented biter, it was the main reason that two different boyfriends had cited for breaking up with her. Clara however did not even bat her eyelashes in surprise once, she simply forced Sasha upright with a strong hand and straightened out her arm so that she could stick the needle into the folds of skin that protected the inside of her elbow and inject her with the substance that had been prepared especially for her.

The patient went limp and sullen against her nurse, and she allowed her to gently tug her into the corridor and usher her towards the dining hall.

“Here,” said Clara. “You can sit over here with Dante, he plays with magic too.”

Sasha tried to bite her again but Clara was a quick learner, and she escaped out of biting reach, leaving Sasha to glare sullenly from the patch of shadow that she had automatically slid into.

---
I'm not a stranger
No I am yours
With crippled anger
And tears that still drip sore
---

Everything was eternal... Everything was ethereal, the world seemed to glow, seemed to have an aura. Everything was brighter, crisper, like the sun shone brighter and the colours were more enhanced than they naturally should be. The grass, the beautiful grasses that reached to her knees; a million different shades of green that seemed to melt together into a velvet, blanketed eternity, stretching off until it blurred and mixed in with the azure blue sky.

The air was warm, soothing, wrapping her in its warm arms that comforted her until she felt the safest she'd ever felt since before she could ever recall. It trickled over her skin like warm water, dissipating her fears, evaporating her reality and creating her own reality. This reality. Everything was just as it should be here, and better, she had everything she could ever want for. She was safe here, she was who she used to be here.

Her hands came up into her field of vision, the sun-kissed skin wrapped around her muscles, tendons, bones and blood seemed to glitter back at her, unblemished, as if from a fairy tale. Her hair was long, mahogany brown, sleek as newly spun silk that trailed through her fingers like liquid sand. She cast her eyes beyond the hands in front of her face, and found herself looking upon an ocean, and the ground beneath her feet seemed to give way as sand wriggled through her toes and slid over the tops of her feet; warm and inviting.

There was a presence behind her, a wicker and a blow of air that ruffled the soft cotton of the gown she wore, tickling the backs of her knees. She need not glance behind her to know what creature approached. The soft velvet muzzle nudged her shoulder, and the wicker came again. When the beast received no attention, it proceeded to nibble at the gown, and she could feel the short, rough whiskers of the horses lips against her bare arms.

She ignored the animal, knowing that mere physical touch did not define their relationship, and instead pressed forward, allowing herself to move closer to the ocean that stretched out into forever before her. The hot sand that slid between her toes and engulfed her feet was a relaxing sensation, and made her feel drowsy. Before she knew it, she was drifting -falling- backwards, although it did not feel like falling, she felt weightless, as if gravity did not hold her pinned to the earth as it once had. The feeling did not last as long as she would have liked, for she lay on her back- bare, with the warm sand hugging every crevice of her body.

To her left, the ocean, which had only seconds ago been something out of a fairy tale, was beginning to dull, the colour seeming to drain out of her vision, until it was but grey. Twisting her head to the right, she watched as the beast which had once been her one and only friend, rear up with a screech, twist, and gallop off into the distance until all that was left of her perfect world was the soft sand on which she lay. The rest of the world was dim, dark, and nothing at all the perfect world she had imagined.

---
A fragile frame aged
With misery, and
When our eyes meet
I know you see
---

When Aniella seemed to come back into reality, and blinked, she was sitting upright, staring ahead at nothing. She was still warm, even though the blanket which she was mysteriously wrapped in had dropped to her waist, exposing her bare torso to the dimly lit room. However Aniella seemed not to notice, as if still immersed in her dream world, unaware that she was now awake and staring at a blank wall.

When she did seem to come into her surroundings, Aniella could not say at all what the time was. Nor did she particularly care, the first thing the young female did was look down upon herself, and felt a repulsion twist inside her chest, almost as if she felt she would physically vomit at the sight of her chest in the low light of the sun that trickled through the window. Her chest was a mess of different colours, even in the dim morning light, Aniella could tell this skin was not her own, and she swallowed hard on the rising lump in her throat at the harsh realisation that her dream had been just that. A dream.

The pain was almost normal now, she reflected, which only added to her repulsion. The thick, jagged scars stretching across her body like tinsel on a Christmas tree still wept small beads of blood, staining her recycled skin and the ivory sheets in which she was tangled up in. Her small, deft hands pawed at them regardless, pulling them up and around her shoulders, burying her face in them in a feeble attempt to cover herself and will herself to stop existing. Why can't it just be over already? Why do I have to be the one to suffer...?

As if in reply, her mind flashed back to the last place she remembered, an astral being, watching herself skinning other human beings, not even half her age. She remembered vividly the thick, sticky blood up her bare arms, satiating her primal need to cut, her need to survive. A need she prayed to whatever semblance of a God there was left to just strip her of that need, so she might just die and leave the world with one less parasite. Her stomach churned, and Aniella realized with grim resignation that if she didn't move, she would be decorating these ivory sheets with yesterdays (or whenever the last time she ate was) meal.

It wasn't until Nell was hunched over the toilet bowl that she discovered that she had in fact, not eaten anything. She heaved, and she heaved, and she heaved. Nothing but acidic stomach fluid and bile, which tore into her throat and made her crave any form of hydration. She felt her way to the sink, the room dark, but shadows of objects visible in what dim light there was. Feeling for the tap, hot or cold, she didn't know- or care, she twisted it on and dipped her head under the tap. The lukewarm water filled her mouth, and she coughed it all back out into the sink; now pink-stained water sloshing against the ceramic bowl. That was all she needed, really, to wet her throat. The scratchiness remained, but she didn't like to irritate her constantly-healing facial scars.

The young Italian found her way back into the room she'd woken up in, and with a sick horror, heard movement outside the door. Suddenly the room was lit up, not from a light within, but out there- somewhere. Nell darted back to the bed and fought her way beneath the sheet and quickly tried to cover every inch of her body from this intruder. She sat as still as she could manage through her panic, straining to hear how far away this person was... Nothing. Aniella frowned, unable to hear the footfalls of the person somewhere outside her door; she strained more, and discovered she could not make out a heartbeat either. She relaxed. They must have left.

After a few more moments in the yellow-washed room that now surrounded her, thanks to the new light spilling in from the window; Aniella had to wonder where exactly she was. This was certainly not a place she had ever been before, and it felt too real to be a dream. She might have pinched herself to make sure, but she was too afraid the skin would fall away at her fingertips. It wasn't an ugly room, it was stripped back and bare, just what was needed, she guessed. She wasn't sure how long she had been asleep, or how long ago her last memory was. She felt as if she had been asleep for years, but it surely couldn't have been that long. Maybe she was in a hospital; maybe there were people here now to--

Tap, tap, tap!

Aniella visibly jumped, her head jerking to the side to stare at the door- or moreover, the figure standing at the door. Oh god! Panic rose up in her throat, and she planted herself on the spot, her fists balled up in the sheets, gripping them to her chest as if they were a part of her being. She couldn't move, she wouldn't move, there was someone at the door, and they wanted to come in. She couldn't.. no... what did they want!? Who was it?! Aniella stared, frozen, as the figure knocked again at the door. Aniella couldn't move.

When she refused to move from her refuge on the bed, the door to the room began to open, and Aniella sucked in a long, panicked breath, trying to settle herself. You're okay, this is a hospital, they are going to help you, breathe, swallow, you're-- oh my... it's a... a... a man! The rock quickly returned to Aniella's throat, threatening to choke her and drown her in tears that stabbed at the backs of her eyes. She only stared at the man, wide eyed, like a rabbit caught in headlights.

*Note; All dialogue between Buck and Aniella is spoken in Italian unless specifically mentioned otherwise.*

“Good morning, Aniella. My name is Nurse Buck, and today it’s my job to show you around the Institute,”

If she had been a different person, her jaw may have dropped slack at the man before her, instead her eyes grew a little wider at the sound of his voice, his Italian voice. Was she home? In Italy? Had she finally managed to find someone who would help her find her way back? Back to her father, her brothers, her friends and her sweet, lovely Dutch Warm-blood; Solomon. How long had it been since she was home? Wading through the waters in her pool and riding the bus to her school. She almost filled with hope, but the man's words echoed through her mind. Nurse Buck... Job... Institute.

Her brow knitted together, as if trying to figure out the meaning behind the words. She was not home. This was a hospital- no, an institute, whatever that was. But she knew one thing, she was not home. If she were, her family would be here, not this stranger, this silent stranger stood before her. This creature that made no sound nor had no beating heart. Fear radiated from her being as he stared at a spot just past her, some most-interesting spot on the wall just shy of her line of sight. She didn't know what to do. Instead, she cast her eyes down to the floor, swallowed hard, and took a deep breath, attempting in vain to settle her rattled nerves.

“...In...stitute...?” She croaked back in Italian, a voice that seemed so unlike her own. It had been so long since she'd spoken to anyone. The only time she heard her own voice had been when she was sobbing.

“Osmond’s Institute, your new home,” He said quickly, expertly, and Nell wondered how many times he had said these very lines. There was a pause between them, Nell dared not look up to see the man's expression, and he seemed to take the silence as a means to go on, “I’m going to show you to the Cafeteria, and then I’ll give you a brief tour of the rooms you’ll have access to.” Still, Aniella simply stared at the man, not trusting herself or him to do anything, “Whenever you’re ready, I’ll be waiting outside.” And with that, the man stepped out of sight and pulled the door halfway closed behind him.

For a long time, Aniella did not move. She sat as still as a statue, weighing out her options. There was nowhere to go, the only exit was the door in which Nurse Buck had emerged. She need only look at the glass window to know she would not be escaping that way. Who says you need to escape? She asked herself, but she already knew the answer, I'm in a hospital, and that means there's more people, more men! I can not handle this... can I? This nurse.. he was nice to me, he didn't attack me, defile me and call me horrible names, he didn't call me the monster that I actually am. Maybe I will receive help here... maybe.

Taking a shaky breath, she cast her eyes away, and pushed away the sheet, and climbed to her feet in search of something to cover her mutilated body.

---
I do not want to be afraid
I do not want to die inside
Just to breath in
---

Aniella was unsure of how much time had passed between Nurse Buck leaving the room, and her gently pulling the door open and silently stepping out into the brightly lit hallway. She sported Royal Purple clothing, the only clothing in which she could find that seemed to cover her as much as she would have liked. To Aniella's grave distress, there was nothing available for her to cover her disgusting face, and so the girl had bunched up her hair and wrapped it around her face like a mask. All that was visible of the female were her deep, watery emerald eyes, and her pale pink nose. Her arms were also exposed, and although Nell refused to look at them, she knew they were two slightly different shades of skin.

Nurse Buck stood just to the left of the doorway, waiting patiently for her, with a cool, calm demeanour which seemed frighteningly un-threatening. No matter what Nurse Buck did, he would frighten her, any man would, and any man always will. She sighed, then stepped forward, her eyes still firmly planted anywhere but his eyes, she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes, something deep inside her forbade it. Instead, Aniella settled on his chest, and stared intently at the indent at the bottom of his throat where his left and right clavicle met.

She swallowed into her now-dry throat, feeling the sting of where she had been heaving who-knows-how-long before. She would have to force something down her when they arrived at this Cafeteria that Nurse Buck had mentioned. She nearly gasped with shame when her stomach audibly growled at the thought of food, and she recoiled in on herself, “I'm so sorry!” She gasped, reaching down with her free hand to grab at the belly, as if it would stop the hunger. How rude! Aniella wanted to dart back into her room, climb under the covers and hide for the rest of the day.

But she didn't. She didn't have the nerve to leave now that she was here, that would be even more insulting considering he had come out of his way to wake her and show her around. Nurse Buck must have read her internal dilemma all over her mismatched face, as when he spoke, he seemed almost amused.

"Don't worry, you are only moments away from breakfast. Follow me, please." He ushered down the hallway, and after a small nod of agreement from Aniella, began a slow walk down the hall.

They walked in silence, Aniella did not dare to bring her voice to light and ask him anything, even though she had plenty of questions; where was she; who was he; what was she doing here; why was this her new home; what had happened; how long had passed since... she shook her head, pushing away the memories which constantly fought their way to the forefront of her mind. Instead she focused all of her attentions of the Nurse walking only a few steps in front of her, and she stared furiously into the back of his head, as if she could crack it open and pull all of her answers from within. She could not. His shimmering brown hair stopping just above the nape of his neck seemed to occupy all of her attention, that she didn't notice him stop until she almost bowled into him.

Almost. She stopped up short, and quickly scrambled backwards a few steps as she caught wind of her surroundings. She was in a doorway, staring out into an open space occupied by many other people. Many other people which were not people at all. Her eyes went wide as disks as she studied them with open shock and terror. There was a blonde, seemingly normal with an inhumane mountain of food before her which she packed into her small mouth without a care in the world for who saw her. With her, stood something out of this world. A man, although it wasn't a man, it was something part man, part beast. Isn't that what I am? She chastised herself, suddenly feeling horrible for judging this creature based on its appearance. Still, it was difficult to take in the sight of something quite so obviously not-human.

Part man, part bird, Aniella had no idea what to call him. He reminded her of a creature out of a book she once read, what had it been called now? A harpy! That's how the book had described them, if her memory served her right. She cast her attention to another seemingly-human male sat at a table, looking very unhappy, and Aniella decided there and then that he would be one to avoid. He looked angry, and an angry man was not something Aniella wanted anything to do it. Her breath hitched in her throat just thinking of interaction with him. She looked elsewhere. Her eyes found a couple sat at a table together, both looking human and unimposing, however she wasn't sure what she was supposed to do and where she was supposed to go.

As if reading her mind, Nurse Buck's presence appeared beside her, “There are two sections, Aniella,” he started tentatively, obviously well aware of her rising trepidation at entering the room, “to the right are food in which I believe you would consider 'normal'; fried eggs, sausages, cereals...” He paused, watching the young Italian scanning the room, lips pressed tightly together, “To the left are foods in which I think may be more suited to your tastes.”

Aniella felt sick. She felt hungry, but she also felt physically sick. She knew what the Nurse meant when he mentioned her own tastes, and it roused a deep rooted hate for herself, that burned in the centre of her chest. Part of her thought it absurd that they would have what she needed to sustain herself, but then there was some other part, that she knew they would. Just from looking upon the creatures in this room, she knew they had what she needed. However, she would not be the one to admit it. She chewed the inside of her cheek before shifting uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

“Th-... Thank you very much, Nurse Buck,” She said in a voice so small she wasn't sure he had heard her, “This is all much more than I deserve... I think if it is okay with you, I could possibly have some toast?” She swallowed, “And perhaps a small drink of plain water?” She hated asking for anything at all, and in such a public place, there was no way Aniella would subject herself to eating the only thing she knew would truly satisfy her hunger; flesh. Bloody, warm, flesh. For now, she would just pretend she was normal, and eat normal food, and come back later, alone, to fill herself. Maybe.

---
I'm tired
Of feeling so numb
Relief exists I find it when
I am cut.
---

Most of the night was a battle. A battle to stay awake and not return to those dreams where the charred bodies of her young lay before her. Their souls couldn't be found they couldn't come back! The screams from them trying… Their twisted bodies from them trying… The demon tried so hard to help them. The sounds of whimpering and crying before a scream rang in those sensitive cat ears. This must be a horrible dream. They were not dead! That damnable demon had not killed them! Her fists pounded against the hardwood floor with hands that pulled at her. A voice begging her to stop and promising to kill him a thousand times over.

With a jolt, a voice was still screaming followed with panting. Her eyes were wide and sweat covered her and the sheets she was tangled in. The room was blank but the soft coo turned her red ears down to the little bundles of blankets on her bed. With a sigh, she touched the empty blankets softly. “Mommy is sorry.” The kits within moved lightly but were fast asleep. Sighing, a kinetic barrier surrounded the blankets to keep them safe as she slowly eased herself from the bed.

The floor was cool beneath her feet. Her steps light as she moved to the bathroom. It took the neko no time to shower and then slip into her lilac scrubs. For a moment, she idly wondered why she was even wearing scrubs. Where were her t-shirts and shorts? Sure, her tail fit though the pants of these scrubs comfortably but why? For a moment her mind tried to process the why but the images made her groan. Her internal struggle causing her gasp and hold her head. Leaning against the wall it took a moment for the room to stop spinning before she was able to move again.

She came out of her room and headed down the hall to the stair way. Her nose following the scents that lingered in the air. The smell of food followed and mixed with the unknown scents. There was one she knew as she came upon the doors to the cafeteria, vampire. The other in the door, she was not sure but it did not matter. “Excuse me.” Was all she said as she moved around them without waiting for them to move. Softly swaying her tail, her ears turned to the various sounds around the room. She would merely glance around the room as she headed for the table with normal looking food.

Taking a plate, she loaded it up with pancakes, eggs and sausage but the lovely scent of fish caught her attention. Never could she remember such a selection. She grabbed some eel and salmon then turned to look at the place. Where would she even sit? With the brooding looking male? Or the bird guy and lady? The patch woman still was by the door, she wondered what place she would pick. Although, Alice would rather not sit by any one, less to worry about so she choose to sit with the brooding male.

There was something wrong.

Head spinning, Anya sat up. The blurred mess that was her room twisted further away from her, falling away from her outstretched hands. The tattoo-like markings that littered her skin glinted in the dimming light, telling her that indeed, she had a body.

Then why did she feel so weightless?

The feeling of simply floating along, alone and helpless along a pitch-black sky overtook her senses. Closing her misty eyes, Anya prayed that this would never end. One could argue that eternal solitude was the worst way to spend the remaining days of your life but to Anya, that was her sanctuary. Her one remaining thought that kept her from going insane. Little did she know, she had already crossed that boundary years back and was wading in unfamiliar territory.

Thump.

The feeling of her back landing on the floor sparked a sharp spike of pain to run up her body, ending at her throbbing temple. Momentarily, the pain spread like wildfire through the rest of her body, a dull ache that made Anya grit her teeth and stop herself from crying out. She turned her unfocused gaze up towards the ceiling, looking for sort of solace, only to be met with an ominous darkness gathering in the corners of the ceiling and spreading across the walls like a disease. That’s what it was – a disease. These abhorrent shadows were always like a disease, grabbing at whatever they could and reducing them to nothing. And Anya had been running from them from day one. A whimper rose to her throat, a panicked expression overtaking her features.

Today would be the day they got her.

Rooted to the spot and unable to move, Anya barely registered the roar of fire. It wasn’t fire of her own making – no, it was a creation of the form sitting right inside the white-hot flames. As the flames got closer and closer, Anya suddenly felt the ability to move and she immediately scrambled back, away from the figure. He was back, the one entity that wouldn’t leave her alone.

Go away.

It opened its pitch-black eyes that had not even a hint of a white sclera and smiled, the malicious grin spanning the entire width of his face. “Welcome back.” The raspy whisper filled her ears and a few tears escaped Anya’s eyes. As if on cue, whispers broke out from an invisible audience, not quieting even when Anya screamed “Shut up!”.

There was no escaping it. She vaguely registered the shadowy tendril reaching the hand that was extended behind her, wrapping itself around her wrist. The burning sensation started immediately, snatching a scream from Anya’s throat. She ripped her arm away and scooted towards the center of the room, away from the shadows and closer to the fire. She had no choice – the fire burned its way closer and closer, heating her skin to a rather uncomfortable degree every second.

“Bad choice.” The demon announced, his deep laugh drowning out the whispers. “Let the games begin.” Anya found herself unable to move again and, seated on the scorching hot floor of the room, could only watch as the flames swallowed her feet. And then the screams began.

---

As she stood outside the door of her assigned patient’s room, Farrah dutifully ignored the screams from within. This particular ward was fairly soundproof yet the Dreamweaver’s voice continuously broke through and echoed down the hallway. She flipped through the patient’s file, reading through it as carefully as Buck had requested. As her eyes landed on the last line, she shook her head and sunk her hand into her scrubs’ pocket where two syringes of Anya’s medication lay.

Do not under ANY circumstances look this patient in the eye. The last line repeated itself in her mind as she swiped her key card into the slot and the door automatically opened. Farrah slowly opened the door, intent on not disturbing the non-Earth patient as the file had specified and frankly, she didn’t feel like fighting a fire. Closing the door behind her, Farrah stood quietly by the door and watched the humanoid Dreamweaver writhe in agony.

Several minutes later, as the patient abruptly sat up, eyes wide and brimming with tears, Farrah barely flinched. She approached the patient, already impatient with having waited for so long. “Hanneli, I’m your nurse, Farrah.” She said in a soft voice. She didn’t reach out to touch the girl and stayed out of the girl’s immediate line of sight just in case she freaked out. “How are you feeling this morning?”

It took several long seconds for the girl to respond. She didn’t move from her position on her bed, eyes fixated on the same spot on the far wall. “There’s someone there.” Ignoring the nurse, Anya continued to stare at the wall. Her voice was light and cheerful, as if pointing out a flaw on a toddler’s artwork. She spoke in a mix of her native Dreamweaver language and English, somewhat confused between the two and inserting random Dreamweaver words among her sentences.

Farrah turned and scrutinized the area where Anya was pointing at, her navy-blue eyes scanning the wall repeatedly but seeing no-one there. The possibility of a patient with the capability to render themselves invisible was impossible at Osmond’s so the only plausible explanation was that Anya was hallucination. “There’s no one there, dear.” Farrah said as gently as she could manage.

“No, there’s someone there. He’s sitting right there. Can’t you see him? He’s looking at you like you’re his next meal.” Anya answered, her voice drifting away dreamily, clearly disregarding Farrah’s words. The nurse frowned and walked around the bed to face the Dreamweaver. Anya had morphed into something in-between Dreamweaver and human somewhere in the middle of her nightmare episode, creating a weird mix of feathers and glowing markings. The blonde nurse bent down slightly to be on eye-level with Anya and took her face in for the first time. It was fairly human, with the same markings taking up a side of her face. She could’ve been considered some kind of unearthly beauty yet her weird words overpowered everything else.

“The room is empty save for us. Are you sure you can see?” Farrah asked, looking into Anya’s cloudy eyes. The girl seemed blind to the entire world, piquing Farrah’s interest. Her psychic block could ward off nearly every mental attack so she took the risk and studies Anya’s strange eyes.

As if she’d flipped a switch, Anya turned towards Farrah and locked eyes with the nurse. At first, Farrah felt no different, only slightly uncomfortable at the intensity of Anya’s stare. The girl really was crazy, she decided. Then the unthinkable happened. Her vision blurred, slowly twisting away from the shape-shifter until all Farrah could see was a deep black, only the faintest colors filtering through. And even then, that aspect was rapidly being taken away from her.

“…I don’t know. Can you see?” Anya’s voice broke through the tense silence, sickly sweet but Farrah could detect a hint of mocking underneath. She frowned and glared at the girl as her vision returned, blocking the girl’s mental attack. Anya smiled in response and turned back towards the wall. “He says hi. Do you want to say hi?”

In response, Farrah stabbed the syringe into Anya’s arm, reducing the girl to a slightly sluggish mess. Another stab followed from the other syringe and she heard Anya mumble something about whether she always went around stabbing people. Anya’s eyes immediately unfocused further as the medication worked its magic, sedating her just enough to bring her back down to reality and making her eyes focus a bit more. Once she was satisfied the Dreamweaver was fairly normal by Osmond’s standards, she spoke, “Enough. Get dressed so we can go down to the cafeteria.” Farrah tossed the girl a set of royal purple scrubs and turned towards the door, waiting to go down to the ground floor. The faint rustle of material behind her told her that Anya was nearly done changing and she swiped the keycard through the slot, opening the door once more. The nurse turned and motioned for Anya to follow her.

One uncomfortable ride later, Farrah and Anya made their way to the cafeteria. Once at the double doors, Farrah waved Anya in and motioned towards the counter of food. “Go eat and socialize. No doubt it’ll do you some good.”

Anya smiled in response and her hand shot out to grip Farrah’s. Farrah momentarily tried to yank her hand away, unsure of what the patient was doing. Did she have some unmentioned ability? However, it all proved to be needless concerns as Anya vigorously shook her hand, dragging her entire arm up and down. “Thank you, nurse. The man says hello by the way. He thinks you’re pretty.” With that, Anya skipped into the cafeteria, grabbing a tray along the way.

The man behind the counter recognized her instantly despite her human appearance and handed her a small plate of glowing blue biscuits. Anya thanked him with smile and loaded the rest of her tray with human food. Human food did little for her different internal organs but it was tasty nonetheless, and the stack of pancakes on her plate grew. The blue biscuits, on the other hand, tasted like one variety of berries that grew on her homeworld, supplying her with the necessary nutrients that this world lacked.

She turned and, tray in hand, approached the first ground of people she saw. A sullen young man and a girl. “Kitty!” Anya called out to herself, her voice fairly quiet despite the childish excitement in her voice. She skipped over to the table, and set her tray down. Without even bothering with introductions, she addressed the cat-lady. “Can I pull your tail? It’s so pretty!” She asked dreamily, offering the cat-lady a smile. Not waiting for an answer, she spoke again. “My name’s Anya.” It took considerable effort to speak in full English, as the other patients obviously weren’t equipped with a translator as Farrah had. Her words came out slightly slurred, giving away the fact that English wasn’t her native language. Nevertheless, it got the point across which was enough for Anya.

Simone slowly opened her eyes, blinking the last bits of sleep from them as she sat up in herbed, the covers which had been pulled up to around her neck falling to her waist, leaving the petite female’s upper body with its trim lines and small, but still attractive breasts exposed to the cool air. It was early, just how early, Simone was not sure, but the ever so faint light coming in through the window told her it must be dawn, or close. But there were other questions, questions that drew Simone’s attention. The biggest of these questions were… where was she? The last memory Simone had been of trying to flee The Solomon Facility; then all had gone black. She should have died there.. but no/// She was alive.

They had shipped her some place new, those bastards… Why? Simone hissed softly as she pushed the covers roughly aside and stood. The floor was cold to the touch, Simone’s feet being bare, but she did not care. Looking slowly around the room, Simone’s carmine coloured eyes took in the barred window to her right, the wooden, white painted writing desk with its spindle backed chair, and to its left the tall wardrobe against the wall opposite the end of her single, wrought iron frame bed, and to the left of the wardrobe, a door leading into another room. The floor, she noted, was made of stone, and was a bland slate grey colour, as was the ceiling.

Padding forward, Simone approached the wardrobe and pulled the double doors open. There, inside, hung a set of pink scrubs, along with slippers for her feet. The drawers in the wardrobe held fresh bra and panty sets, and nothing else, save for a cheap, dated looking plastic handled brush and comb. Closing the wardrobe doors, Simone walked slowly to the open door and looked inside. A tiny bathroom with a sink, toilet and walk in shower greeted her. A plain white towel and washcloth hung on a towel rack bolted into the wall to the right of the toilet, across from the shower. Standing in the bathroom doorway, Simone pondered what she should do next, aside from fighting the growing urge to feed…

She was angry, hungry, and she needed a shower. Simone turned and stared icily at the heavy steel door to her right as she left the tiny bathroom and returned to the main room. She didn’t test it, there was no need. Unless her new overeaters were bloody fools, that door was more then strong enough to hold her. No; she would wait, wait for a chance, perhapse one would come later. They weren’t going to keep her in here forever, and not send someone around to pester her in some manner, to go on about something, and poke her with needles. Simone’s mouth became a hard line at this, and a shiver ran through her small frame. She would kill them first before she allowed anyone to stick any needles in her again.

It took a bit of doing, but Simone gathered herself eventually and optd to take that bloody shower. Oh, the steaming hot water did feel rather good as it flowed down over her head and body. Hell; they even hd given her a nice scented body wash and shampoo, lilac it was, but that didn’t mean much, did it? No, it just meant this prison was slightly nicer then the last she had been in. It only meant she was being treated a degree better, but they would still see her as nothing more then a tool, a broken tool, one meant to be prodded and poked and cast aside when her uses were up.

No, she had to escape this place, wherever it was. She had to go find the answers. She had to seek out the truth. Trying to think about this only made Simone’s head pound and she collapsed against te wall near the exit door, both hands gripping her head rightly, tiny, pointed fingernails digging into her scalp as she gasped for breath. Perhaps this was, no it was the reason that Simone did not take note of Tony’s entrance. Tony, wasting no time, jammed a needle into Simone’s left arm, drawing a angry growl from the petite vampire moments before another needle was jammed into her arm in almost the same place. God dammit all, Simone seethed, she was going to kill this bloody idiot… but.

She was feeling suddenly weaker and she couldn’t shift. “. We’re going to take a little stroll now,” Tony chuckled softy as he pulled Simone roughly to her feet. “I bet you’re wondering why you can’t shift, why you feel weak, and just so mellow, yes?” A heated glare from Simone made the nurse laugh again as he pulled the door open and pushed, pulled Simone out into the empty hallway. “You were given a relaxing agent, along with something to inhibit that nasty little shifting of yours,” Tony explained as he ushered Simone through the halls of St Osmond’s until they came to the cafeteria. ‘Oh, I almost forgot, you asked where you were, didn’t you. Welcome to St Osmond’s Institute for the mentally insane.”

Simone was pushed roughly into a chair and left alone, after Tony had, in a bored and disinterested way, explained the cafeteria and pointed out the sealed packets containing lycan blood. Simone stared at the nurse until he had taken his leave of the room; then turned her attention back inward. There were many others in the room, some she knew what they were, some she did not. Standing, Simone shouldered her way through those standing and made her way to the food serving area. Grabbing up a packet of blood, that looked a bit like a Sunkist packet, Simone buried her fangs in it, ignoring the straw provided. Her eyes slide closed briefly as the blood ran coolly down her throat. Gods it tasted good, so good.

» Cadence «

I'm just painting that's still wet:
If you touch me I'll be smeared,
You'll be stained.
Stained for the rest of your life!

---»«---

For a few minutes, Cadie and Jax ate in companionable silence. A couple of the other patients trickled in, but they didn’t pay any more attention to the mutant than she did to them. Her focus was fluffy eggs and crunchy bacon, hot coffee and cool, crisp melon. Whatever else you said about the Institute, you had to admit that the food was first-rate. It was almost peaceful just then: the only sounds were from a quiet conversation three tables over, distant and metallic din echoing from the kitchen, and the rustle of Darlene’s Cosmo magazine as she periodically turned a page.

The young telekinetic wanted to enjoy her moment of numb contentment… but as was usually the case at Osmond’s Institute, somebody happened. One of the Terrible Triplets (Creepy Goatee, to be exact.) brought in a guy Cadie had never seen before, and deposited him roughly at a table near the center of the room. The guy didn’t do anything exceptional. In fact, he just stared at the table. She almost dismissed his presence, almost let her one good eye fall back to her plate, but she realized something. His hair… his hair was moving.

It wasn’t moving as if he’d sat under an air vent, either. It was moving as if the young man was underwater, in a perfectly still pool. It just sort of floated. The girl blinked sleepily, and then it occurred to her that maybe this was just a side effect from the drugs they’d given her not-so-long ago. She ate a spoonful of the honeyed oatmeal, then turned to Jax.

“Is it just me,” she murmured, and licked her lips, “or is that guy’s hair moving?”

Cadie tilted her chin in the direction of the fellow she was referring to.

Jax twisted his head in that odd, avian way of his, peering at the stranger for a long moment. Then he looked at the table, shook himself a little, and turned back to Cadie.

“Moving.”

The girl nodded, and though Jax always spoke too loudly for her tastes, the trippy-haired guy in question didn’t seem to notice. He was still just staring at the table. Cadie concluded that he probably wasn’t the human he’d appeared to be at first glance. She tucked in to the oatmeal again, diverting periodically to the eggs, sausage and bacon. Thanks to her extra drugs, she bit her fingers twice.

This is what makes you a monster, Cadence, she thought rather too cheerfully to herself.

Jax nudged her slipper under the table with one of his sharp, black claws. She jumped a little; although it was more like flinching from the unexpected contact, Cadie rationalized it into surprise. She looked up, and he just blinked at her. Her only functioning eye slid sideways, her head following, as she scanned the room for whatever it was her companion was trying to show her. It must have been the girl with Nurse Buck, who had her hair pulled forward instead of backward and ponytailed over her nose. Whatever facial features she was hiding with her mahogany hair, Cadie figured it must have been pretty gross… because her arms were crisscrossed with fresh-looking wounds, roughly stitched together and still a little bloody. The mutant frowned. She was willing to bet that hurt… a lot. And there was something about the other young woman that made Cadence feel better immediately: she was almost as skinny as the mutant herself.

Almost.

Cadence tried again to return to her meal. Oatmeal, gone. Eggs, gone. Bacon, gone. Sausage, gone. Bagel, gone. Coffee, gone. Milk, gone. Slowly, the mutant became aware that Jax had stopped eating and was sitting with his shoulders hunched forward, head moving back and forth. She set her fork down and took a few deep breaths, steeling herself for what came next.

The girl gingerly placed her slender fingers across the back of Jax’s hand, where it lay splayed on the table. The warmth of his skin under her digits was almost enough to make her draw back instantly. It was like holding her hand in a fire. Even though Jax wasn’t human, it felt an awful lot like human contact. She took another deep breath as his dark head stopped moving, one black eye fixed on her.

“What is it, Jax?” she asked very quietly, trying not to sound as if she was asking Lassie if Timmy fell into the well. Of course, she licked her lips.

“Watching. Me,” the raven croaked in reply. He tried to be quiet about it, which made his voice even stranger and more raspy.

“It’s okay,” Cadie soothed, forcing herself to rub the back of his hand gently, even though it kind of made her feel nauseous. The physical contact helped him keep a connection with reality, she knew from experience, so she tried not to think about it and focused on what she was saying.

“They’re new,” she said in hushed tones. “And they’ve never seen anyone like you before. I stared at you too, remember?” She licked her lips several times, feverishly. The prolonged physical contact was starting to stress her out.

Jax looked at her for a long moment, and she could clearly see in her own mind exactly what he was remembering. She smiled, thinly, and nodded.

“So, relax. They’re just jealous of your wings,” the girl whispered.

Then Jax did something Cadie didn’t expect. He turned his hand over, clutched her fingers in his, and squeezed them gently. The feathers at the base of his neck puffed out a little again in the Corvinian equivalent of a smile.

Such a simple gesture, such a small connection that normal people were able to have on an everyday basis. It said thank you for being here, thank you for pulling me back from the edge. Someone else could have shrugged it off, squeezed back, and smiled in return. Cadence was not that someone. Her stomach dropped and every muscle in her body tensed. She couldn’t force herself to draw in a breath. And then she heard a sound… a horrible, despicable sound…

…the sound of her coffee cup starting to rattle against its saucer.

Thankfully, blessedly, Jax seemed to sense that this was too much for Cadie, and let her go. As soon as he did, the weight on her chest lifted. She inhaled deeply through her nose and exhaled through her mouth several times. The coffee cup had stopped shaking, but now her hands were doing it instead. Her appetite was completely gone, which was really bad. She’d been down to eighty-eight pounds when they’d weighed her two days ago, and the nutritional nurse had said (in a rather threatening manner) that if Cadie got down to eighty-five she’d have to have a feeding tube put directly in her stomach so they could pump nutrition into her overnight while she slept.

She shuddered involuntarily, and reached for the double-chocolate muffin. Three bites in, the sound of a food tray slamming down made her look up again.

The source of the sound was a man, a man she hadn’t noticed walking in. How she’d missed him, she didn’t know: a combination of the painkillers and hunger, she supposed. He was tall, well-built but a little thin, with blonde hair long enough to brush his shoulders and a rough shadow of stubble on his square jaw.

Oh no! Why today of all the-

Cadence didn’t have time to finish the thought before the vision in her one good eye dimmed… and then abandoned her completely.

“Son of a bitch!” she cursed, loudly enough to startle Jax, and slammed her hand down on the table.

“What. RRRAAAnn?” the raven man squawked in alarm.

“Blind. You see the big blonde guy at my…” she had to think for a moment, “at my two o’clock?”

Cadie was pretty sure Jax nodded, but she couldn’t see. “Knock once for no, twice for yes.”

Immediately, he rapped twice on the table.

“Good. Tell me when he leaves.”

Again, two taps.

“And… could you help me find my muffin?” she asked, in her usual whisper, licking her lips again.

---»«---

» Nurse Buck «

Welcome to the jungle,
It gets worse here every day!
You learn to live like an animal
In the jungle where we play!

---»«---

“Th-... Thank you very much, Nurse Buck,” She said in a voice so small she wasn't sure he had heard her, “This is all much more than I deserve... I think if it is okay with you, I could possibly have some toast? And perhaps a small drink of plain water?”

The patchwork young lady had come along rather quietly and willingly, despite her obvious terror. She’d almost balked at the sight of the males in the cafeteria: you didn’t have to be a genius to read her eyes and her body language. Buck genuinely felt a little bad for the girl: maybe he’d missed it in the file, but he didn’t realize she had a compulsion to cover her face. Of course, it made sense, considering.

But when she asked for food, Buck couldn’t help wondering how she would eat with her hair fixed like that. The stitches on her bare arms were oozing blood that didn’t even smell like blood, and peeking out from behind her hair she was saying that she didn’t deserve even water and bread. Where had she been before this? The vampire wished he’d had more time to read the files.

“If you would like people food, Aniella,” he replied calmly, “I would suggest a blueberry scone and some hot coffee or tea. But if you would prefer something else…”

The vampire stepped away from the young woman and picked a coffee mug up off the steam line. Then he moved to the punch bowl he knew would be there. It was always there on New Patient days, even when there were no new vampires. By now, Buck was certain that the punch bowl was just for him sometimes. He was also certain that it was completely clean, completely real, somehow warm, actual human blood. The blood was ladled into his cup without a single drop being spilled.

“…I suggest you go ahead and get it. You’re not the only one here who eats from the carnivore line.”

Then he paused, and his lips twitched in what might have been a ghost of a smile. Of course, Aniella probably wouldn’t see this because she didn’t seem to be able to look any higher than his chest. He raised the glass to his lips, and drained it halfway. He really didn’t care how Morgan came by all that human blood. It was good. Buck swallowed, repressing the natural shiver, licked his lips clean -which gave a little flash of fang, if she was looking- and then moved to get a tray for the girl.

“Tell you what, I’ll fix you a tray with a few different choices, and you can eat what you want.”

As if on cue, to illustrate his point, a girl Buck assumed to be Simone sauntered over to the inhuman selection, picked up a bag of lycan blood, and bit straight down into it.

Buck would prepare Aniella a tray containing her water and toast, the offered blueberry scone and coffee with sugar and creamer packets… and a second coffee cup of warm blood, and what looked to be a completely raw ham steak.

If nothing else happened, he’d lead her to a table near a corner of the room, and seat her where she could see the door.

---»«---

If you got a hunger for what you see,
…You'll take it eventually.

---»«---

Though Dante hadn't uttered a word since setting himself at a table with a large tray of food did not mean his mind was not constantly rushing about in either direction like a bat caught in a cage. Dante seemed to shovel down most of his abundance of food within moments though as the bare minimum of his hunger was satiated his vigor slowed; the prongs of his fork idly swirling and dragging streams of melted butter through his syrup river. From all appearances Dante seemed to be staring at his plate though his vision was barely focused as he was lost in his own thoughts.

What is taking Emilia so long to get back? Had she gotten lost? Is she too afraid of all these strangers? I wouldn't blame her if it were the large turkey.... The thoughts raced through his head until that shrill, chilling voices decided to break back in.

'Poor little Dante.... When will you accept she doesn't want to hang around some nut job...' The insult jabbed into his heart and made him cringe. 'I am not insane... No. This place is a mistake! I might be dangerous! But not insane! No, no! That wouldn't make sense! I know I am sane! Right? Of course...'

'Right, right... Says the man arguing with himself?'

'I am not arguing with myself! I am arguing with you! Don't play with my mind!'

'Oh Dante... I am you. Can't you see. Open your eyes boy. You really want to believe I am some evil old man bound to your soul... Tsk tsk... A sane man would have figured it out by now.'

"Zitto, verme!" Dante cried out in a hard tone in italian which roughly translates to shut up maggot; his out burst warping and distorting the metal fork in his hand into a tangled mess of metal. He calmed seeing as he saw his nurse reach for something on his belt. He dropped the mangled piece of metal and raised his hands passively to show he had calmed. 'I am nothing like you....' he retorted within his thoughts. The voice lowly cackling as he disappeared back within his mind awaiting his next chance to chink at Dante's psyche.

Broken out of his train of thought he took a look around and seemed to gained more of an audience. Not only that but a girl had been sitting in front of him and he hadn't even noticed until this very moment. He felt nervous, a rare occurrence for the overly out going gentlemen. He didn't want to be the one person yelling at himself at the mental institute but I guess you gotta play the cards you're dealt.

"My apologies for the outburst, my dear." Dante spoke charming in a warm, melodic tone with the faintest hint of an accent to the girl sat at his table and huddled within the shadows. "You seem a tad discomforted. Perhaps a nice retreat would ease your worries." He said as he twirled his fingers and suddenly a simple playing card appeared between his index and middle finger. He tossed the playing card across the table and it slid to a stop before her. Though there was something strange about the card, it was not a normal card but a moving picture showing the setting sun over a warm beach.

If the girl just so happened to look at the card she would feel she was on a tropical island, hell she would feel as if she were there the entire time. Toes dug into the warm sand as she relaxed under the shade of a palm tree. The wave cresting and crashing quietly as the delicate breeze danced through the air. The rays of light a beautiful display of oranges and yellows as they stretched out high into the sky as if to grasp onto the heavens. Though all this would vanish as soon as she saw the polar bear resting against a palm tree licking a snow cone, I believe the flavor is blue berry but I doubt that matters since I don't think he would share. Once the illusion would vanish the girl would be back at the cafeteria table staring at a six of diamond.

Back in reality Dante began to look over the room at the new attendees. He was trying his best to balance pieces of pancake on his knife and get it to his mouth before it slipped off; his fork to mangle to use. Dante scanned over each face, doing his best to commit them to memory. Though each face he looked over he could feel the voice, it did not speak though Dante felt his hunger as if it were his own. His mind drifted into thoughts of how tasty one of their livers might be. The thought of the strong taste of blood left in his mouth made his salivary glands run wild. Suddenly he shook his head as if to rid the thoughts away. He quickly pushed himself up to his feet and quickly jogged out of the room. "I don't need a guide!" he demanded as he noticed his nurse start to follow.

As Dante journeyed down the hall he sighed, no longer in sight of any of those meals.... No! people! They are people! He clenched his jaw tight. The damned voice needed not a word to plague his mind. Through his journeying down several halls he finally found the small courtyard. He walked out, peering around to make sure he was alone. He went to a bench, flopping onto his rump lazily. Out of thin air he created a cigarette, not nearly as potent as real tobacco but it would do the trick. He placed an end between his lips and with a flick of his fingers the other end was in embers. He took a hard drag, the hot smoke nearly burning his throat though he savored the sensation. He exhaled slowly, the plume of smoke cultivating before dissipating in the breeze.

Aniella had to commend Nurse Buck, he didn't even miss a beat when she mentioned how she did not deserve any of the food in the room, and continued as if there was nothing at all wrong with her. Of course, she knew there were multiple things wrong with her. For one, she would not be here if she were okay, if she were normal and could eat and do things like everybody else. No... Nell knew she was about as far as normal as a person could get. Well, maybe not as far as the strange bird man.

“If you would like people food, Aniella,” he replied calmly, but again, Aniella picked up something rehearsed in the words he said, “I would suggest a blueberry scone and some hot coffee or tea. But if you would prefer something else…”

An overwhelming sense of abandonment overcame the Ragdoll as the Nurse stepped away from the doorway and picked up a mug. Her body stiffened as if hyper-aware of all the things happening in the room around her. The people who had been previously sitting around tables, innocently eating and drinking, now seemed like ominous monsters who at any given moment could jump up and confront her, and there would be nothing she could do about it. The thought would have made her start sweating if her body would have allowed it to.

Swallowing hard, not her fear, she could never manage to swallow that, Nell forced her attention back to the Nurse who was now far too far away from her to feel any type of comfort. Not that she was ever going to be at all comfortable around him, he was a man, and she knew all too well the strength of men. The brutality and cruelty of men. This nurse was no different, the only thing that offered her an ounce of comfort was the fact that he was an authoritative figure, and if anything were to happen to her, she would likely have to rely on him to help. Currently, he held a mug in one hand, and a ladle of thick, crimson liquid in the other. It was with sick realization that she knew it was blood. She couldn't smell it, but her body seemed to react to the sight of the blood, she dropped her eyes as the Nurse spoke once again.

“…I suggest you go ahead and get it. You’re not the only one here who eats from the carnivore line.”

The carnivore line, Aniella thought with a hint of humour to it, most people in the world are carnivores. A carnivore is someone who eats chicken, pork, beef and other normal meats. I am not normal, I am something beyond carnivore. Having the need for human flesh in the bit of my being doesn't make me a carnivore, it makes me an abomination of nature!

She watched the Nurses wrist with wide eyes as he lifted the cup to his lips and took a drink, nearly draining the cup. Nell's stomach growled loudly, and again she wrapped her free hand around her waist, her body hot with shame of her body's needs. She felt sick, but she knew she felt sick because she was starving, and she felt even worse because of what she was starving for.

“Tell you what, I’ll fix you a tray with a few different choices, and you can eat what you want.”

The thought of having all different variations of meat and other foods piled up in front of her both horrified her and relieved her. Horrified her due to the fact that she would have all of this food in front of her, and looking the way she did, people would think she was disgusting; which I am, but I would rather people didn't think that more than they already do! Then again, she was relieved because she knew she needed the food, and if her Nurse was going to choose her food, at least she didn't have to be the one to choose it.

He turned his head, and she followed his gaze, towards a young woman with stark white hair and dark mahogany eyes, in her hands was what Nell knew to be a blood bag. She couldn't hold in the shocked gasp that escaped her lips at the sight of the other female biting down onto the bag and draining the thick contents into her mouth. The sight of it, although making Aniella's stomach churn, also started to make her mouth water.

As if oblivious to her inner turmoil, Nurse Buck walked off with the tray and began to put various things on it. Coffee, toast, water and a muffin... then he walked over to the other steam line, and picked up a large, bloody ham steak and laid it out on a plate next to her muffin and finished it off with a hot cup of blood. He then made his way over to a table tucked away in the corner and placed the tray down. Aniella, taking a deep, shaky breath, forced one foot in front of the other, following Nurse Buck into the cafeteria.

She took the least populated route over to him, keeping at least five feet between herself and the next person. Her trembling body eventually found the nurse and slowly the Ragdoll eased herself into one of the chairs and stared blankly down at the plate in front of her. The contents of the tray made her stomach roll, but regardless, she took a breath and turned her eyes to the chest of the male Nurse, “Thank you very much for this selection, Nurse Buck, this is so much more than I need, you have been much too kind.”

She cast her eyes around the room, her eyes falling on one of the most beautiful females she had ever seen, and the sight of her filled Aniella with a deep sorrow. Once, she had been beautiful, with fair, caramel skin and silky hair. She studied the female with a sad longing. She was similar to how Aniella used to look, however this girls hair was a long, fluffy, wavy dark black, maybe even blue... she couldn't tell from the distance, and where Nell's eyes were dark chocolate, this girls eyes were misty blue-no... gray? Silver? Nell wondered for a moment if the woman was blind. That would be nice, she thought grimly, to have a blind friend. At least then she wouldn't be able to see how disgustingly ugly she was.

Sasha had no patience for magic tricks. She had never had patience for magic tricks, not when she knew what the taste of real magic felt like. The one that the nurse called Dante was clearly no half-bit hack, but it was apparent that he could not see the truth of her. There was time yet before the moon found reason to show her full face, and Sasha's skin tingled every time she thought of it. Three quarters waxing was enough to give her a heady rush of power, even though she was not at her full strength, and it made her feel... glorious.

She refused to look at the card, fixing her coldest stare on him instead. Hateful glaring was her favourite way of observing people, it made them uncomfortable and showed how they were likely to respond to a real attack. Not that Dante was even looking at her. She was looking at him alright, with his sun spun hair and forest green eyes. He had clever hands, and Sasha had a penchant for clever hands, especially when they were combined with clever men. There was a lot she could see that she liked but by the time she had made up her mind about him he was gone, escaping into the halls of the wretched place. She filed his face and name away for future reference, because she would always need a way to fill the spaces that itch. Not that she knew what the asylums policy on fraternisation would be.

Sasha didn't want a relationship, she had never wanted a relationship. Even though she had been in several.

There had been Vanya, her very first boyfriend, who had been twenty-five to her seventeen. He had been the first person to make her feel like a real woman who could do real things. He had been the first person to show her how much fun she could have with her clothes off... but ultimately he had also been the first person to dump her because he wanted someone less... opinionated was the word that he used.

After Vanya had been Jonas Coleman, a very nice British boy who was just too nice for her. He didn't like the way that she bit him during sex, and she didn't like the way that he tried to keep control of her. Their relationship had not fallen apart nearly so much as it had imploded. Every man after that had been one of the same until she had given up on them altogether.

There were only so many bus depots she could trash with magic before someone noticed that the property damage coincided with her break-ups. And because of Vanya almost half of her home town knew that Sasha had lost her virginity in the local bus depot.

She did not let her mind get tangled up in the past, instead she lay one hand on the card that Dante had left behind and ignited it with her mind, the blue flame running along the palm of her hand with a gentle warmth but incinerating the piece of cardboard to nothing more than ash. The thought that she should have looked to see if any of the nurses were watching had occurred to her, but Sasha was far too caught up in the rush to care.

Simone’s attention had begun to wander as she finished her meal. Among the many patients she noted, some, well most with only a passing glance, was a red headed female with orange eyes, and the ears and tail of a cat. Was she a created creature as well, Simone mused as her eyes traveled quickly up and down the girl’s form; then for a moment, Simone’s mind lingered on the other female’s body, before it moved on, assessing the cat-girl as a threat or not, as Simone was want to do with everyone she encountered, such was programmed into her from the first moment of her creation.

The cat-girl sure liked to eat a lot, Simone noticed, watched the female pile pancakes, eggs, sausage, and other foods on her plate. Simone had eaten all those things before, even savoured the sweet taste of maple syrup over fluffy pancakes, salt and pepper on eggs over easy, the hint of hickory flavour in some sausage and the crisp taste of bacon. Thanks to her creators, Simone was not nourished by normal foods, and had only eaten them on rare occasions, most of which had occurred during her time away from The Solomon Facility. Simone thought briefly of helping herself to some of the ‘normal’ food, but her attention was diverted by a sudden, close sound…

Simone turned her head at the sound of a slight gasp catching in a throat nearby. Her gaze turned to the source of the gasp, a small female with dark, mahogany coloured hair falling down over her back… But that, neither her eye colour was what held the attention of Simone.. No, it was the other female’s body, crisscrossed with old and new looking wounds, some of which looked to be oozing blood. The corner of Simone’s thin pink lips curled upwards in a brief smirk as she watched the girl move away. “Weak,” Simone muttered to herself as she turned away. How could such a girl, with a body such as hers, be so revolted by seeing someone drinking blood?

Did it matter? Simone shook her head ‘no’ as she turned to leave. As long as the girl didn’t get in her way, it didn’t matter. The girl wasn’t a werewolf, and she wasn’t a doctor, so she wasn’t a threat one way or the other; or was she? Simone shrugged her shoulders slightly as she began to move back across the cafeteria, weaving through the table(s) and past other patient(s) as she made her way toward the door. Passing a random table, Simone heard one of the patients sitting at it muttering to herself about a muffin. Glancing to the table, Simone blinked once as her carmine coloured eyes fell on a large male who looked like some bird, a raven to be precise…

But it hadn’t been he whom had mumbled about the muffin, it was the female sitting next to him. “The bloody muffin is right in front of you,” Simone replied, fixing her carmine coloured eyes on the other woman, taking in her gaunt form, her white shoulder length hair and pale green eyes. “You should help your friend more… if she is your friend,” Simone added, turning her head slightly to rest her eyes on the raven-man. He was tall, Simone noted, with a well muscled frame. He might, Simone mused silently, be dangerous, if they were to fight, “Friends,” Simone repeated, lapsing into silence for a few moments, before resuming her trek across the room…

She had never had any friends, Simone reflected upon this as she approached the cafeteria doors, and pushing them open, stepped out into the empty hallway. She had either had teammates, on rare occasions, or been alone, until her capture, and even then, they hadn’t been her friends, had they? Weren’t everyone trying to use her for some means? They would have disposed of her too, when they no longer had need of her, yes? Simone stopped, placing her right hand against the bear wall as a sudden, fierce white hot pain shot through her head, causing Simone’s petite frame to tremble, violently and almost bringing the gasping woman to her knees…

Mercifully the sudden onslaught was brief, and after a short time, the pain subsided to a dull ache, and then vanished completely. Simone pushed herself away from the wall… the place where her hand had rested now showing several small marks where Simone’s claws had embedded themselves in the wall as she had struggled, in the midst of her migraine, Simone’s body starting to shift forms. Taking a long, deep breath, Simone resumed walking, not going in any certain direction now, wandering down one long, and empty hallway after another, until she came to a random door, and on impulse, pushed it open to find herself facing a small courtyard…

There were tress and grass and even a few low stone benches in the courtyard, none looking their best, at least to Simone’s eyes. On one of the benches a male was lounging, smoking a cigarette, the wind gently ruffling his locks of shoulder length, golden blonde hair. Simone paused in the open doorway; then stepped forward, letting the heavy door swing shut behind her, she wanted to be outside; Simone mused silently, as the man glanced her way, his attention drawn to her by the sound of the door closing after her. Simone surveyed the male quietly, assessing him as a potential threat or not, as her carmine coloured eyes roved over his tall, athletic frame. ”Hello,” Simone finally said, ending the silence which had fallen over the courtyard again.,,

Rak sat there, staring at the space where he would normally have his food. He simply didn't feel like eating. Deep thought tends to knock down on his appetite. The people across from him were omitting an odd feeling. Usually, Rak could put a word to the emotion, but this time he couldn't do it easily.. Hm. I'll go with ambivalence. After pondering this for a few moments, Rak realized his shadow wasn't crossing theirs. Oh? Am I just seeing this in their body language then? Maybe I am starting to be like a normal person Rak looked down at his writhing, dark shadow. As if.

Across from him sat an odd group. First, there was the cat-human Don't people call them nekos? Never thought I'd actually see one. I guess not everything starts from a creepy guy's fetish.. Also across from him sat another strange girl. Clearly the more excited of the two, she hopped from one place to another. Even Rak couldn't help but give her an odd look.

"Hey, Anya. I'm Rak. It's a pleasure to meet you." He gave what he thought looked like a genuine smile, and offered a hand to shake. Although usually her type wasn't the kind of people he liked to affiliate with, he thought he could feel an air of strength disguised by her immature demeanor. The cat, on the other hand, he had no idea. I'll play it cool and nice until I know more. Who knows, she may turn out to be stronger than I expected.

Suddenly, Rak felt a sudden wave of fear. He felt trapped all the sudden. Rak shivered for a moment, trying to clear his thoughts. Claustrophobia has never been an issue with him. Maybe the institute is taking a toll on me. Sweat slid down the side of his face, blazing a path for more to follow, and so they did. In a last moment attempt to get himself back into focus, he quickly created a small shadow spike from his thumb of his non-extended hand, pricking his palm, drawing a blood-like substance, but black. His mind cleared, the pain pulling him back into focus. Hopefully I won't have any other episodes of random phobias while I'm here. This isn't normal for me.

Of course there was someone watching. There was always someone watching. Be it Nurse Jean, hunched over a monitor at the Central Nurse’s Station… or the tidy row of Sibling nurses standing along the far left wall of the Cafeteria… or perhaps the Administrator himself, before a wall of television screens somewhere in the dark recesses of his locked wing.

Nothing went unseen.

But nobody took any action. They could have thrown Dante to the ground for trying to cast an illusion on Sasha, but why do that when she simply burned his little card? Notes would be made, and additional measures taken if needed, of course… but for today, nothing would be done.

In a place like Osmond’s, everything you say (or do, for that matter) can and will be used against you… eventually.

-----

» Nurse Buck «

The shoulder you cry on,
The dose that you die on:
I can be your painkiller.

The scent of Lycan blood reached Buck’s delicate olfactories as he escorted Aniella towards her table. It made him glance sideways at the white-haired, red-eyed girl he’d assumed was a type of vampire. He was almost certain he’d seen that in her file… but if she was drinking werewolf blood she was definitely not a member of his own species. Of course, different dimensions had different types of vampires. Inwardly, Buck cursed not having the time to read his patient files thoroughly before breakfast. The ancient man was even angrier because he’d done it to himself by failing to wake up in a timely manner.

He shrugged it off and returned his focus to Aniella. She followed him mutely, just as she’d done in the hallways during the trip to breakfast… though now that they were in a room full of other patients her slender body was rigid with fear. Of course there had been disgust in her eyes when he set the tray down in front of her, mixed with hunger and self-hatred for being the sort of beast who wanted to eat those things. He didn’t need to read her mind to know what was going on up there: she hated the monster she’d become. And how many hundreds of patients had the good doctor treated in his career at Osmond’s who felt exactly the same?

“Thank you very much for this selection, Nurse Buck, this is so much more than I need, you have been much too kind,” the girl murmured.

At least this one spoke Italian, so the Roman was able to enjoy conversing in something close to his native tongue. He’d used flimsier excuses to give frank words to someone. Buck sat down at the table beside Aniella and fixed her with a look of both weariness and pity.

“I am not kind, Aniella. I am doing my job, which is to ensure that you are fed and clothed properly, and are oriented to your surroundings. This is also far less than what you should eat, and far more than what you will. You need three of these steaks and four cups of this blood, if not more. And tomorrow morning, you’ll be expected to see to your own breakfast.”

He paused to press his lips into a thin line briefly, deciding how to continue in a way that would motivate her instead of being berating. If he’d seemed distant or rehearsed before, there was genuine gravity and spontaneity to his words now.

“If you believe that you do not deserve to eat, or to live,” Buck continued, “you simply will not. This place will destroy you. We are all monsters here, myself included, and you will not change what you are by refusing to eat the food your body now needs. You will only starve… and die.”

As he said ‘and die’, the ancient man might have sounded like Aniella’s passing would make him sad. Or perhaps he would only be sad to lose such a valuable specimen.

Letting his words of wisdom hang heavy in the air between them, Buck stood up again and took a step back from the table.

“Bon appétit, young lady,” the vampire said, French and Italian blending harmoniously on his lips. “If you’ll excuse me, I have some other duties to attend while you eat.” With that, he turned to saunter towards the line of Sibling nurses.

-----

I know what you want so desperately;
You know I'll give you one for free.
Forever you're coming back to me,
Now I'm gonna give you what you need!

-----

What had happened in the cafeteria around him while Nurse Buck was speaking to Aniella had not gone unnoticed. He’d heard, and seen from the corners of his eyes. Dante had cursed in Italian, slammed his tray down on the table and stormed out. He’d also tossed some kind of card at Sasha, and she’d simply burned it. (It was magical fire, best as he could guess, since she was a witch and not a pyrokinetic.) The silver-haired wolfeater, Simone, had said something to Jax and Cadie before following Dante out. None of the Siblings had followed them… and that was a problem.

Sara was already stepping in the Head Nurse’s direction to draw his attention to the matter but he stopped her course with a small hand gesture. Jean’s triplets were gathered around Darlene’s little desk in a corner near the door, backs to the patients, paying them no heed. The petite vampire stopped behind them soundlessly.

“Tony, Greg. Where are your patients?”

The two men turned to look over Buck’s head at the surrounding area. Greg, the bearded one, even started to speak.

“Dante? He’s right…”

But the table where Greg was looking now contained only Sasha. Dante and Simone were nowhere to be seen. The bearded man laughed.

“I’ll be damned. Oh well, we’ll go hunting for them in a minute,” he said, turning back towards Darlene.

Buck’s jaw tightened. “You’ll go now.”

“Relax, bloodsucker. Where the fuck are they gonna go, huh?”

Unless they were looking at Buck and Greg when it happened, the patients and the other nurses wouldn’t have seen the swift backhanded strike Buck delivered to the curve of Greg’s bearded jaw. They might have heard the meaty thwack that the blow made, and they certainly would have heard the clatter as Greg staggered backwards into a trash bin, knocking it over. Tony took his cue and hauled ass out of the Caf, not saying goodbye to Darlene or even looking at Buck.

Greg, on the other hand, put a hand over his injured jaw and glared at the smallish vampire.

“What the fuck did you do that for?!” he protested angrily.

“Insubordination,” said vampire replied in a tone laced with nonchalant menace. “If you speak to me again in such a manner, you will pay for it with your tongue and be thereafter mute. So it will not happen a third time. Now get up off your lazy ass and go finish your patient’s orientation.”

It was clear from Greg’s face that he had something he very much would have liked to say to Buck, but he wisely refrained and did as the Head Nurse demanded.

From over his left shoulder, Buck heard a voice… one little more than a whisper, one that only he could hear over such a distance as the one between them.

“What just happened? I’m so confused.”

-----

» Cadence «

I'm well aware I'm a danger to myself,
Are you aware I'm a danger to others?
There's a crack in my soul
You thought was a smile.

“The bloody muffin is right in front of you,” said a voice from over her right shoulder. It sounded female, and cruel. It was also totally unexpected, and Cadie jumped. She couldn’t see what was going on around her anymore, thanks to Blondie, so hadn’t realized someone was approaching their table.

“You should help your friend more… if she is your friend,” that unfamiliar voice continued.

Cadence couldn’t help the words that rolled off her tongue, she could only be thankful that they were whispered so softly that the speaker didn’t hear her.

“And you should mind your own goddamn business,” she said, licking her lips several times.

Being blind, she couldn’t see if she’d offended the speaker, but she didn’t hear the voice again and assumed whoever it was had gone. Jax had been handing Cadie the muffin when they’d been interrupted, so she took a huge bite and chewed it slowly, savoring. She loved the rich, chocolately baked goods nearly as much as life itself.

Again, she was interrupted, and huffed a sigh of frustration. It was a strange series of crashing sounds, punctuated by angry words between what sounded like Buck and one of the Terrible Trio. Dante? Was that Blondie’s name?

“What just happened? I’m so confused.” Cadie said aloud, turning her face in the direction of the commotion.

“Don’t worry, Cadie,” came Buck’s voice, and it seemed he moved closer as he spoke. “We had an issue, but it’s all sorted now. You can go back to your breakfast.”

“No,” the telekinetic said, shaking her head. “I mean, literally, what just happened? Did something fall over? What was the Triplet yelling at you about?”

She licked her lips twice, and then nibbled the bottom one a little.

“I knocked Greg into a trash can. Cadie, are you blind today?”

Mutely, she nodded, and winced a little. She knew that Buck knew what that meant.

“Let me guess; the new blonde.” She could hear the amusement in the Head Nurse’s voice.

Cadie wished she could melt into the floor, slide away from the vampire’s scrutiny. She forced herself be thankful that she was blind and did not have to see what sort of judgment or mirth was on his lean, angular face. Once more, her voice had vanished. She only licked her lips, and nodded.

“I’ll do my best to keep him away from you, then,” the nurse said a little more gently.

She nodded again, and this time managed a very quiet ‘thank you’, followed by several lickings of her lips. There was nothing more from the vampire, and Cadie assumed he’d gone back to whatever else he’d been doing.

“Gone.” Jax croaked, and Cadie nodded. She’d figured that part out, but her vision stayed dark. Sometimes it took a while to come back.

She took another big bite of her muffin. Today was a two muffin day, she'd ask Jax to fetch her another one and some more milk in just a moment… and maybe in a little while, she’d ask for more pain medicine so she could take a long, drug-induced nap.

» Nurse Buck «

Now you don't know me:
Lightning above and a fire below me.
You cannot catch me, cannot hold me,
You cannot stop, much less control me!

Though he might catch hell for it later, hitting Greg really put an upswing on the Roman’s mood. It felt good to unleash a little of his frustration on an unsuspecting victim… even if it wasn’t in the manner to which he was accustomed.

Cadie’s blindness was a little worrisome. Even in her limited state the Mutant’s telekinesis was nothing to be trifled with. If Dante could set her off, keeping them apart would make life easier for everyone involved. Especially Dante. Cadie’s last …interest, so to speak… had lost both his eyes when he’d looked at another female patient a certain way in the waif’s presence. The female’s hands had been severely mangled as well.

Buck was also worried about Aniella. He’d meant what he said to her: if she didn’t have the inner strength and will to survive Osmond’s, it would kill her. And probably sooner than later. A newborn monster’s self-hatred could drive it to the grave: a phenomenon Buck had witnessed many times in fledgling vampires long before he’d ever come to this place. They just couldn’t work up the nerve to do what they needed to do in order to survive, or they went mad with the horror of it afterwards. All the Head Nurse could do was speak honestly to the Ragdoll, and hope she was able to pay him heed.

These thoughts and many more spun through Buck’s ancient head as he meandered slowly from Cadie’s table towards the wall where Clara, Sara and Farrah were standing watch. Unlike Jean’s trio, Buck’s three nurses heeled like a team of highly trained Border Collies.

“Anything I should know?” came the smooth, businesslike tone from his thin lips.

“All quiet on the Western Front,” Farrah said mildly. “Aleksandrina bit Clara, and Hanneli tried to catch me up in her dreams, which felt icky, but nothing we can’t handle.”

“Good work as usual, ladies,” he said with a small nod. He’d never needed to strike his girls… but he never forgot that they were Morgan’s creatures, and no matter how well they performed he’d never really trust them.

He took his place beside the trio of women, casually leaning against the wall, taking a sideways glance at Aniella to see what she might have consumed from her multiple-choice meal. Everyone else seemed to be behaving, talking or eating quietly, so he folded his arms to wait until his patient for the day was ready to proceed with her tour.

-----

As patients finished their breakfasts, the nurses came off the walls one by one to escort them on the next parts of their Institute tour. They’d be shown the large two-story Library stuffed with books from many dimensions, pages filled with fact and fiction that could warp or wilt lesser minds. Equally impressive was the gymnasium complex; complete with basketball court, swimming pool, weight room, several normal and oddly-sized treadmills and exercise bikes and even a small sauna. There was the Recreation Room: table tennis and hockey, foosball, a pair of card tables, an overstuffed grey couch and two equally comfy looking armchairs… all of it bolted to the floor, of course.

In the Music Room new patients would find a raised dais against the far wall where a gleaming black grand piano sat waiting. Several grey armchairs -smaller versions of the plush ones in the Rec Room- were placed in a semi-circle on the left side of the room. Behind them, a large stereo programmed with hundreds of thousands of songs (digitized, of course) from every dimension imaginable was pressed against the wall. The right side was an open space edged by shelves holding drums and closed instrument cases. Folding chairs and sheet music stands were closed and stacked neatly in the corner.

Last but not least on the tour was the Great Room. At the moment it was totally empty and the walls were completely bare. The only feature of the room was on the wall opposite the door. Two floor-length windows with arced tops flanked a massive stone fireplace. The stone was rough, and in shades of grey and black. On either side of the dark maw, black wrought-iron candelabras were bolted into the rock and mortar. Candles …and curtains, for that matter… were absent.

There was much more to the Institute than the first and second floors of the patient care areas, but the tour included everywhere the patients could freely move during daylight hours. The Medication room would only be seen by the patients who’d need to go there, and the Treatment Rooms on Basement Level 1 were on the schedule for tomorrow.

There Dante sat in the courtyard, seemingly lost in his own thoughts as he appeared to look at nothing in particular. His cigarette leaving a long trail of ash at the end showing how he hadn't moved in a while. Dante hadn't even noticed the fact he no longer alone in the green, open field. He battled within his own mind, delusions riddling every crevice of his mind. Every moment spent fighting off the urge to follow the voices commands. Each word it spoke seemed to be more and more reasonable. Falling slowly to his demons and further from him. And further from his Sweet Emilia. There he sat, like a statue on the bench, in the battle field of his mind.

"Dante... Why do you resist me..? I only want to help..." The voice soothed his tone, like a sirens whisper.

"That is a lie..." He thought to himself in response.

"No Dante... I want to reunite you will Emilia.... Don't you want that?"

"You don't Care about Emilia!" Dante snapped back, fuel raging violently in his veins as the voice spoke of her name.

"That is not true, Dante.. I am you... How could I not care for Darling Emilia.."

"You are nothing like me! Just a vile voice in my head..."

"When will you learn.. I am you. I always have been.... Just finally speaking up... trying to reason with your own desires.."

"No.."

"If you listen to me.... We can become strong.. We can bring Emilia back..."

"Emilia would want nothing of your vile nature..."

"She loves you, Dante.. She wants nothing more than to return to you.. She wouldn't hate you for bringing her back..."

"Not at the cost you require..."

"I do not ask for much, Dante.... Let me in... We can break free of this prison.. We can go together, find Emilia.. Isn't that what you want..?"

Suddenly a shove came at Dante's shoulder, shaking him from his thoughts. The jostle broke the line of ash free of the cigarette to drop to the floor. Dante looked up only to find Greg, his nurse with a newly forming bruise along his jaw.

"I am talking to you!" Greg reminded sternly, not seeming in any mood to repeat himself.

"What do you want?" Dante asked rather sharply, his brows narrowing. He wasn't in the mood to be bothered. He had plenty more on his mind than to deal with the nurse.

"We have the rest of the Asylum to tour. Now get up! I won't ask again." He retorted harshly.

Dante's jaw clenched tight, he could taste the faint hint of blood coming from his gums under the pressure. "Fyr.." Dante hissed through his teeth as a ball of flame began to form and swirl in his palm. Before he could strike a sudden pain sear into his chest as if each of his ribs were slowly beginning to crack. The ball of flame died out as he gripped his sides and toppled in on himself. His breath halted, unable to breath through the pain. Suddenly the pain vanished and he gulped for air, panted and wheezing as he still held onto himself. He looked up at the nurse, his eyes blood shot from the strain. He noticed the nurses eyes suddenly fade back to its normal color from a strange purple glow.

"What the FUCK did you do to me!?" Dante demanded through panted breath, receiving a wide grin from the man standing over him.

"You didn't think you were the only person here with tricks, did you?" He laughed at the thought. "I guess you could say my special brand, if you will, of magic involves blood. Once I have come across your DNA anytime within the following twenty-four hours I can manipulate it to my will. Make your cells attack themselves or even simply stop flowing. And we have plenty of your DNA from arrival day Dante. Feel free to remember to behave." He stated cynically before taking Dante from under the arm and forcing him to his feet. With a shove at the back he was pushed into a walk. Dante stumbled a bit from the shove though maintained his footing. This only pissed Dante off more.

Dante let his arms drop down to his sides once more, looking ahead of him as he was ushered out of the courtyard. His eyes falling upon the white haired woman that seemed to be in company. He might have tried a bit of flirtation if he weren't in such a foul mood. He pushed through the doorway and turned down the hall as instructed.

"Maybe if you would listen to me we could have killed him..." The voice reminded with bloody delight.

"Shut up..." Dante whispered under his breath.

Simone had started to say something else, she would be sure of that later on… although what it was the woman could not recall when the question would be put to her mind... In any event, the moment was brief as two nurses appeared… one, a bearded male whom Simone did not recognize, the other the petite vampire did know, she had seen him earlier that morning, he was the one who had injected her with some sort of drug(s), and for that, Simone hated Tony, well more so because the white haired female loathed, no feared needles, if she were being perfectly honest with herself.

Simone’s eyes narrowed as she stared icily at Tony; then Simone’s attention was pulled to the faire haired man as a softly uttered word reached the created vampire’s keen ears. Simone watched silently as a small ball of fire appeared in the palm of one of the other patient’s hands. “What the bloody hell?” Simone asked herself as her small frame tensed instinctively, the girl’s agitation only made more acute as she watched what happened next and then heard the bearded nurse’s words directed toward her fellow patient. Simone glanced back over her shoulder at the man assigned as her nurse. What, Simone wondered silently, powers did the male wield?

Seeing his charge staring at him, Tony shifted his stance slightly, ready for any trouble that Simone might convey his way. “What are you looking at. Come on, we’re going,” the nurse demanded as he took a step toward his patient. Simone pressed her thin pink lips firmly together as she turned toward the nurse, a sudden flash of searing, white hot anger entering her mind, flooding it like a river, clouding the white haired girl’s mind like a thick, early morning London fog. She heard the nurse speaking to her, telling her to back off, though the man seemed to be speaking from far away. Simone took a slow step forward… then another, followed by a third,l onger stride.

Something jammed into the vampire’s left arm, and Simone jerked, her right arm drawing back, claws extending as she began to lunge toward her attacker, only to feel a sudden surge of sickness in her stomach, along with a sharp pain. Simone gasped sharply, falling onto all fours; her chest heaving as she fought off the urge to cry out. “What did you do?” Simone hissed at Tony as she forced her head to lift, meeting the nurses’ gaze as she spoke at him through ragged breaths of air. “Just a little something to keep you in line,” Tony replied with a smirk as he roughly grabbed Simone’s hair at the crown of her head and jerked the shaking woman to her feet…

Simone took the tour, seeing the library and its rows of books, the music room with its instruments and stereo, the recreation room, the main room and so on, although not of her own choosing, and all the while still feeling rather ill from the drug(s) she had been injected with. Of all the things she saw, Simone found the library the most interesting, or as much as she could in her state. Simone had been given very few things in her existence, but a kind staff member at The Solomon Facility had given the girl books from time to time, mostly story books, that was until the day the woman vanished, disappeared the same way Simone's books did, never to be seen again.

Some time later, the tour being over, Simone found herself left alone again, and she began to wander back toward the cafeteria. Entering the room for the second time that day... Simone looked around; then made her way to a vacant table against the wall near the door(s), Leaning over the table slightly, her right hand resting across her stomach, Simone stared silently at the other patients present through haft open eyes, not knowing really why she had came back. “I’ll kill him,” Simone whispered under her breath as another wave of nausea took her, making the vampire sway from side to side in her seat and bite her bottom lip, hating Tony more each passing moment...

» Bernadette «

The girl with furry ears and a furry tail wasn’t the only patient who liked raw fish for breakfast. Hers were small and silvery, where Bernadette’s was big and bright blue with lime green stripes, but the Angkrillian was still relieved to see someone else finally choose the same item as she did for breakfast. Though she wanted to go introduce herself to the feline woman, Bernie had more pressing matters to attend. Just as soon as she’d finished wolfing down her meal, she just had to visit the pool. Bernie’s skin was already itching from the lack of submersion. If she didn’t spend at least an hour every day in the water, her iridescent blue skin would crack and leak silvery blood.

The nurses seemed to like her blood: they thought it was pretty. Since it wasn’t red, they didn’t seem to realize that it was still her life flowing out of her crispy flesh. Or maybe they did, and just didn’t care.

The pool at Osmond’s Institute had clearly been designed with Earth’s mermaids in mind, but could be altered to suit the needs of most semi-aquatic species. The salt content of Engalaste’s seas was significantly lower, and it was laced with minerals that would only be found on worlds distinctly extraterrestrial. The staff at the Institute adjusted the water for her the first day, a small blessing she’d never stopped being grateful for.

After a brief soak (Bernie broke up her swims into five or six twenty minute increments a day) she was padding back through the hallways, barefoot and dripping wet. All her life she’d worn clothes that went easily from land to water and back again… taking them off and putting them back on to avoid getting them wet had been an incredibly difficult habit for her to get into.

She was headed back towards the Cafeteria, hoping to snag one more fish before they closed down for the hour between breakfast and lunch, when Bernie was blessed with a unique opportunity.

Early on in her stay at Osmond’s, Bernie had learned that one of the higher-ranking nurses (or at least she thought he was higher ranking, from the way the others treated him) was very averse to water. Lo and behold, it was Greg leading a new blonde guy down the hallways. He was distracted, rubbing his fuzzy jaw, and didn’t see Bernadette heading straight for him, picking up speed.

He flinched a half-second before Bernadette bowled into him, tackle-hugging him to the ground and giggling maniacally before chirping, “Good morning, Greg!”

For good measure, she rubbed her wet hair all over his face.

“Damnit, Bernadette!” the bearded man roared, scrabbling frantically to distance himself from her drippy person. “You didn’t take your clothes off when you went in the pool! And you didn’t use a towel! STOP HUGGING ME!”

“Noooooh, Greeeeg,” the silvery-blue female whined, full of forced sincerity, “you are faaaaaavorite. Where I come from, you and I turn into water, and flow in to the sea… so far away from land it be just bad memory.”

She stroked Greg’s hair, feigning fondness, making sure to get it nice and damp. When the male nurse started to feel where Bernie’s wetness had soaked through his clothes and was now in contact with his skin, he got serious about fighting to free himself. He was much stronger than she was, and flung her off to his left side.

Bernie landed hard on her right hip, and winced a little in pain, but it was gone as quickly as it came and she was left with only laughter. Her body slid to a squeaky, wet stop mere inches from Dante’s toes, her broad smile showing not one but two rows of razor sharp teeth. She looked up at him for a moment before getting to her feet. Greg had immediately gotten up off the floor and begun to walk in the direction of the nearest nurse’s station.

“Greg! Where you go?! Your patient!”

In response, the nurse flipped her off, and kept right on walking.

Bernadette was still chuckling a little as she turned to the tall blonde Greg had abandoned.

“Ah-ha, made him real angry! Bastard deserve it!” She hoped she was using the word ‘bastard’ correctly… Bernadette hadn’t quite mastered the Earth-language, but she had been lucky enough to have vocal cords that were capable of it. Poor Jax sounded like a bird squawking no matter what he said!

“I am…” the noise Bernadette made instead of an English name sounded a dolphin’s echolocation intermingled with a song in what might have been ancient Etruscan. “But since your Earth-tongue cannot say my true name, you call me Bernadette like others do. Nurse has left you, so I will show you this place, if you like… but first tell your name.”

Dante walked a few steps ahead of his nurse. Lost in thought as his feet mindlessly lead him down the hall. Only deviating his course when he felt the firm jab of a finger into his side to turn. He grumbled under his breath, eyeing the nurse over his shoulder maliciously after each jab. He sighed. Maybe he was too quick to judge this place. It wasn't nearly going to be as fun as he had originally thought when offered the grand array of food. Curse his soft spot for food! It had always clouded his better judgement! Mentally scolding himself not to get distracted by warm pancakes again! Though in the back of his mind he knew he was no match for the fluffy angel disks.

Hearing wet feet slapping against the tile Dante looked up to see a dripping wet silvery-blue woman half sprinting towards them. As she passed Dante with a trail of wind he looked back only to see Greg get tackle hugged to the ground with a loud thud. Dante simply stood there, a bit perplexed at the whole situation. For one the strange color of the girl but mostly how friendly she was to Greg. Seriously.... It's Greg.

A bit lost for words Dante simply rubbed his fingers through the messy tufts of hair curiously. He was about to help the girl up but before he could she had already done so herself. It wasn't long before Greg got up in a huff and stomped away, ending their interaction with the show of his anger. Dante couldn't help but laugh a little. He did quite enjoy the discomfort in the nurse. His eyes adjusted back to the girl as she faced him. His hues scanning her up and down curiously, trying to figure out what she was. This place was certainly filled with odd creatures. At least this one looked relatively beautiful, despite the rows of sharp teeth.

Dante laughed once more as she spoke of Greg as a bastard, he could not have stated the sentiment better himself. Apparently the whole act was simply to stab into the nurses nerves than any true sort of friendship display. He was glad he wasn't the only one who thought of the man as a genuine, grade A,FDA approved A-Hole. Hearing her introduce herself he had to admit that her true name was actually quite lovely to hear; though he would sounds like an idiot trying to reproduce the sounds she just made. So Bernadette was a good substitute.

"Dante Veneti." He spoke smoothly, a rich tone while letting his true Italian accent shine through. Gently Dante took the girls hand in his own, bringing it up he placed a charming kiss to the back of the oddly colored skin of her hand; his deep green eyes looking up at her for a reaction. He simply control himself from flirting. He certainly had a problem. "It is a pleasure, Bernadette." He continued as he released her hand and stood up straight. "Any enemy of Greg's is a friend of mine!" He announced with a soft chuckle, his lips creasing into a faint grin.

At the offer to let Bernadette continue his tour of the institute he simply nodded. "That'd be lovely, Bernie. Do you mind if I call you that? Or do you prefer Bernadette?" He said with a gesture of his hand to continue while the walk.

Though behind the facade of his charming smile the voice began to chirp. 'Why Dante... What an exotic snack... She looks quite delectable... Maybe serve her up with a little salt... Oh, who am I kidding... Salt goes straight to our thighs..'

Dante softly laughed, he might hate the voice but he was right. Salt was definitely not a friend to their figure. No! His figure! ...His figure...