Warm. Wet. Cold.
What the hell? Am I drowning? Seems fitting for someone like me considering it's doubtful I'll survive much longer around here. The food sucks, people pretend to be nice, and the whole place smells like some old lady’s attic after she died in it fifty years ago. But why am I drowning? Oh yeah I know. Isn't it the most horrible way to die? Knowing that you can't possible hold your breath for anymore than a minute -maybe two- before reflex takes over and you find yourself swallowing nothing but gallons of water. And then what? Everything hurts. Everything shuts down. And that “you're fucked” feeling comes just a split second too late.
Yep, this broken world doesn't need me when it has plenty of pussies hanging around willing to put their own pathetic lives on the line for a lost cause.
Wait. Is that a fish swimming up to me? Is it speaking to me? I see the little bubbles coming from it’s mouth.
Did you say something cute little fish?
“Yeah, quit your bitching and wake the fuck up!”-------------------------------------------------------
The girls eyes shot open, wide and confused, as her blurred vision slowly subsided and the cold nose of her German Shepard poked her in the cheek followed by several quick warm and wet tongue lashes across her forehead and chin.
“Wha..? Ack! , Frodo stop.” She winced at the sticky dog drool running down her face while lifting herself up, realizing the pain on the back of her head was most likely a result of her falling out of bed
again onto the hard floor. It was getting to the point that she may as well sleep on the floor considering it’s where she inevitably ended almost every morning since she showed up at the Twin Peaks Asylum. I fitting place for her. For everyone.
An abrupt knock came again, as it seems to each morning, causing Frodo’s ears to perk up and growl at the door. But Vic knew who it was, as it was always the same shit, different day around the place she called “home”.
A second knock came, followed by an immediate third until...
“Come in for fuck’s sake!” The girl exclaimed, feeling the bump on the back of her head. “I heard you the first time, numbnuts!”
Frodo continued to growl, backing away as the door slowly opened and the head of an older paled skin guy with a beard poked through, his dark eyes darting from the dog and then over to Vic.
“Why does your mutt constantly bark at me?”
“Because you’re an asshole and he doesn’t like assholes.” She said after a moment, pulling herself up off the floor finally and eliciting a smirk from the bearded man at the door.
“I see you’ve managed to find the floor again.” He said in a smug manner. “And, I like your underwear.”
Vic looked down and sighed, realizing she had only a shirt on that wasn’t quite long enough to cover her lavender
PowerPuff Girls underwear. “Oh shut the fuck up Curtis, what is it you want?”
“You mean
other than you naked and handcuffed to my-”
“Kill him Frodo” Her interruption was as nonchalant as she could make it, but enough for Frodo to lung at the door snarling and barking just before it closed with the man behind it.
“Fine Vic, be a bitch!” Curtis said in a muffled voice behind the door. “Just know you don’t belong here! Shit, your dog is more of a friend than you are!...”
Victoria knew the secrets that were kept behind the walls of the Asylum, secrets that were there to protect those who sought refuged within her walls from the horrors of the outside world. The infection spread like a wildfire, and those with the “gift” of the lycan, or the werewolf, were prized amongst the large number of people housed at Twin Peaks. Vic, however, did not have what the others had, at least not apparently. She could feel it, even her senses were better than a human’s, but there was no change, no transformation into a beast. She knew she didn’t belong, but the girl didn’t know where else to turn.
