Lunatic

[Tiara]

a horror role-play by Ella & Tiara

Rated R for gore, language, adult content, and .gifs, 

Rolling Hills Hospital for the Mentally Insane opened it's door in 1853 in the seat of Withal County, Georgia. Built in the Kirkbride style popular at the time of it's debut, Rolling Hills was built to accommodate 400 patients. By 1865, there was a total of 2,381 patients on record: a 52:1 patient to nurse ratio.
Physician, Dr. Thomas Rousseau, believed that insanity was linked to infections within the body. This prompted him to remove teeth, sexual organs, and other organs in an attempt to 'cure' his patients. Surgeries were often preformed against the wishes of patients and their families. 
In 1936, the lobotomy became the cure for mental illness. Hydro-thearpy, electro-shock, and solitary confinement were also prescribed to patients.
The hospital remained opened until 1993 when it finally closed it doors for good. To this day, the hospital stands in ruins on the outskirts of town surrounded by cotton fields. The property is currently owned by the county of Withal. 


 
Imogen played by Isabelle Fuhrman ///  Peter played by Jon Bernthal        

http://i1056.photobucket.com/albums/t376/LittleDarlingsNurseryReborns/Ella%20ASylum/Imogen-Stone_isabelle-fuhrman_zps8e770724.png

http://i231.photobucket.com/albums/ee151/tigtig686/PeterMorone.png


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[Tiara]

[Ella]

[Tiara]

[Tiara]

[Tiara]

TRIGGER WARNING

The following story includes scenes of a graphic nature, heavy descriptions of gore, disfigurements, dismemberment, cannibalism, rape, infanticide, murder, scenes of a sexual nature, graphic and horrifying .gifs and images, and language. 

Please read at your own discretion. 

[Tiara]

Pain. And blood. Pain and blood, and screams. The air is thick with them. The sound of plastic sheeting crinkling made the blood soaked girl clamp her mouth closed and try to lay as still as possible on the hard floor. 

“Little girl, little girl!” A gruff voice called out. His shuffled step, and the drag of chains made the girl’s heart pound hard in her chest. “I come to take Lit-“

The girl let out a blood curddling scream as a stabbing pain siezed up her abdomen. The pain cleared her foggy mind, but not her fear and confusion. 

Where was she?
Who was he?
Why was she in such pai-

She screamed again, throwing her head back, and grasping at the chains that bound her to the wall with a death grip. It was like something was trying to pull her body inside out. The metallic scent of blood made her feel on the edge of vomiting. 

“Baby!” The voice cried out in glee. “Little girl baby!” The lurking figure rushed the girl, and crouched next to her. He reached out to pet her snarled hair, twirling the ends in his finger tips. She finally got a good look at him, and felt she had seen him before. His head was long, and his bald head reminded her of a cone head. His face appeared almost burned, and he only had one bulging, azure blue eye which peered at her with great intensity. 

“No! Leave me alone!” She screamed, jerking away from him. But there was no where for her to go to. She was chained to the wall, both arms at her sides. 

“Shhh,” he whispered, and placed a finger against the girl’s chapped lips. “Sleep now.”

The mis-shappen man placed a blood stained hankie against her mouth. She struggled, but after a few breaths, felt herself sinking into the darkness. 

SPOILER: Click to show

Spoiler!

***


“The stars are aglow and tonight how their light sets me dreaming. My love, do you know that your eyes are like stars brightly beaming? I bring you and I sing you a Moonlight Serenade.”

Somewhere, in the background, drowned out by the man’s awful singing, a baby cried. The girl felt her heart stop sharply with longing.


***


Imogen awoke to silence. Her body ached as if she had been run over by a truck.
She lifted her hand to rub her pounding head, and encounted the rat’s nest that was her indigo ink colored hair. She paused, and felt confused. Panic set in and she glanced around nervously trying to place herself. 

All she saw was darkness. 

“Hello?” she called out. Her throat was raw and she sounded like a frog. “Hello? Anyone? Is anyone there? I don’t know where I am!”

Immy braced herself, and tried to stand. The bed she had awoken on creaked , and the matress felt horribly thin and moth eaten. Instantly, as she reached a sitting position, her stomach burned and the skin felt so tight, ready to rip. Immy cried out in pain, and laid back down. 

In the back of her mind, Immy knew she should know where she was and what was happening, but it all felt strange. It was so hard to think. 

[Ella]

Country music seeped out the open windows as the two men drove the beaten path with lazy recklessness. Pete had been told time and time again that he couldn’t speed in the police cruiser –it would give a bad impression –but they were so far out in the country that he doubted anyone would notice. He couldn’t see any cars as he gazed out the windshield in front of him. Neither of them spoke. It had been Pete’s idea to go out to the old asylum in the first place, after an anonymous tip created a link between the neglected building and a series of disappearances over the past decade or so. He wasn’t sure what made him feel so attached to the cause –he didn’t know any of the people who’d gone missing, or their exact circumstances. He knew a few names, but there’d been so many and over such a vast period of time, he’d found a hard time connecting them all together.
“Emmy’s started to walk, y’know,” Calvin suddenly piped up, looking over at Pete with the wide, genuine grin of a proud new father. “Toddlin’ around all on ‘er own.”
“Well I’ll be damned,” Peter chuckled, shaking his head. “Seems like just yesterday Mindy was callin’ in at the office askin’ you to pick up… What was it… Pickles and peanut butter or some shit?”
Calvin whistled, slouching back in the passenger seat and propping his legs up on the dashboard. “Women, I swear. They crave the damnest shit when their expectin’.”
It wasn’t much longer before they pulled up at their destination.
“Rolling Hills Hospital for the Mentally Insane,” Calvin read off the cement engraving above the big wooden doors, as if he hadn’t known the full title beforehand. Peter had debriefed him that morning –the place had a sick past, and if it related in any way to the case at hand, it was definitely maintaining its reputation.
Taking off his hat and rubbing his hand over his buzzed hair in contemplation, Pete sighed and gazed up at the building looming over him. It was now or never. He subconsciously patted his gun secured at his waist, before pushing his shoulders back and leading the way inside.
***
The two men whipped around at the crash that came from behind them, their arms outstretched as they clasped their guns and flash lights in the orderly fashion they’d been taught from day one of their police training. At first they couldn’t see much amongst the dusty rubble that decorated the bland hallways of the asylum. Grimy tile floor and whitewashed walls gave no comfort to them as they slowly walked forward. Their bodies were tense –Pete could see the sweat soaking through the back of his partner’s shirt. He was about to remind Calvin that it was no time to lose his cool when suddenly a form crawled out from around a doorway.
Peter wanted to say it was a dog, or an oversized rodent, but it took mere seconds to observe the human-like qualities the figure possessed. Long arms, skin and bone and knobby to the point of being morbid, pressing its palms against the dirty tiles. Legs pin straight, making the creature’s body a perfect V-shape. Its stature was physically impossible, and Pete couldn’t call it human by any stretch of the imagination. It crept swiftly and yet as if every move caused it extreme pain, and as fast as it had arrived, it was gone. In a panic, Calvin surged forward, turning his body swiftly to face to the right, the direction the creature had gone. He only had time to open his mouth in terror when something lunged at him. Pete aimed his gun at whatever it was that had latched on to Calvin, but didn’t immediately pull the trigger in fear of shooting his partner in the process. It was attacking the young man, biting at his face and neck. In the air it’d seemed small, but now in comparison to Calvin it seemed almost the same height, yet bent awkwardly at the waist. The V. The creature had somehow lured Calvin and then attacked. Pete couldn’t waste any more time trying to absorb details of the scene as he’d been taught years and years ago. He didn’t stop popping bullets off at this creature until it had finally collapsed beside Calvin, who had gone limp.
“Cal? Cal! God dammit man, get up!” He prodded the other man’s shoulders, a tactic used to attempt to awaken someone who may be unconscious. There was blood everywhere –he couldn’t tell which gashes were producing the most. A puddle was gathering, and Pete knew he didn’t have much time before his partner bled out. He tore Calvin’s disheveled jacket off his arms and pressed it against the massive wound, but he was slowly losing hope.
Suddenly, a massive force grabbed him under his arms, lifted him swiftly off the floor, and flew backward into the room across the hall. He called out, trying to catch the door frame, but succeeded only in scraping his fingers against the hard wood before his body made crushing contact with the wall. His head thumped mercilessly against the surface, and he almost instantly lost consciousness.
***
When he came to, someone was looming over Calvin’s body.
“Get…” he groaned, raising his hand to his face. It was wet. “The fuck. Away. From the deputy.” The figure looked over at him furtively for a moment before scuttling away. Its swift footsteps echoed down the hall way, and once it sounded relatively far away, Pete began to push himself to his feet. His muscles groaned beneath his tight black t-shirt, covered only by his baggy navy blue jacket with his sheriff’s badge.
Calvin wasn't Calvin anymore. He’d become more of a pile of red, slimy snakes. Peter had seen a few autopsies over the years, but those bodies were tidy and folded open with the most delicate of movements. Calvin’s body was torn, gnawed on, explored to its deepest nooks and crannies. Pete stumbled back into the hallway and proceeded to vomit until he wasn't sure there was anything left inside his shell of a torso.

[Tiara]

[TRIGGER WARNING: Mention of Rape]

With slow, soft movements, Immy felt at her stomach. Just the feather light touch sent burning pain through her. Holding her breath, she tried to ride the pain. Straight down the middle through her belly button and down to the space between her hips was a bumpy line. She could feel the heat radiating off of it through her clothing.

Immy inched up the long, stained t-shirt she was wearing with painstakingly carefullness. She had to lift her hips up, and that hurt, then the thin fabric stuck to her skin, as if glued to it. In the darkness, she could just make out her skin, red as if sunburned, and the puckered stitching that went up her abdomen. Thick, black string held her tender skin together.

She looked like a stitched up voodoo doll.

As her fingers delicatly traced the incision, she remembered. It came back to her like a wave crashing to shore.

The man, with his burned skin and one eye, holding her down, chaining her to the wall. Another man in a suit, carefully caressing her skin, grunting over her, pounding into her. Knowing there was no where to escape, no where to go.

And her baby.

No. Her babies. This had happened more than once.

A strangled cry left her throat. They had done it again and again. This was the fourth time that that man in the suit had raped her, and then they had cut her open like a sack of potatoes and stolen her baby.

It was a girl, she was sure. She had felt it this time. Loved it, even though she knew what would happened to her. To them.

In the distance, she heard a sound. Sharp, and angry. A baby’s cry. Immy cocked her head. She heard it again.

It was her baby, and she had to find it!

Ignroing her pain, she pushed her self from the bed. HEr stance was wobbely, and she almost fell to the ground. She caught herself against the wall, and used it to support herself as she left the room, and entered the long hall.

There was more light in the hall, flickering camping lanterns lighting the way. Baby blue paint chipped and peeled from the walls to collect with the other junk that covered the floor.

The baby cried again, and Immy moved towards the sound. She had to find her baby. She was hungry. Marie was hungry. Her breats ached, full of milk.

“I’m coming!” Imogen yelled in her throaty voice. “Mommy’s coming, sweetheart!”

As Immy turned into the next room, a blinding light flahsed in her eyes. She held up her hand to protect her eyes.

“Freeze!” A strangled voice yelled. “I’ll shoot your fucking ass if you take one more fucking step, you fucking monster!”

Immy held stock still, afraid to move. “My baby,” she sobbed. “I need to find my baby! She’s hungry!” Immy tried to look beyond the beam of bright, white light. “Please! Where is my baby!”

[Ella]

A scratchy voice was echoing down the hallway, but in Peter’s jumbled mind the words made no sense. He threw himself into police-mode, swallowing his fear and lunging forward. Somewhere in the mess that was his best friend, he found Calvin’s gun and flashlight. Assuming position, Pete whipped around at the source of the voice and shouted at it, fully expecting another… creature to be creeping in the doorway. He spat out his words, glaring hard at the figure, but it all slowly began to melt as the person spoke. It was a young woman, tiny in stature and frankly a mess. Her raven hair pointed in all different directions, as if she were a cartoon who’d been scared really bad. Peter lowered the gun slightly so he could peer over it at the girl. She was deathly pale, as if she hadn’t seen the light of day in years. One gust of wind and it looked as if she would fly away with it.
“I am Deputy Peter Morone,” he said slowly, making sure she could understand him amongst her pleas about a lost baby. She seemed far too young and frail to have a baby, surely, and why she would bring a baby here was beyond his current capacity for logic. “I’m going to put down my gun. I’m not going to hurt you. Can you tell me your name?”
She was drenched in blood, and he couldn’t tell if he was hoping it was hers or someone else’s. On one hand, he could be dealing with a tiny murderous freak girl. On the other hand, he could have to deal with a severely injured citizen after his partner was ripped to shreds. The thought repulsed him, and he tried desperately not to turn around and look at the pile once more.

[Tiara]

Tears streamed down Imogen’s face, the salt slipping into the corners of her mouth so that she could taste them. The man, a cop, moved the flashlight so it wasn’t shining in her eyes, and she took a step closer. She stepped in something warm and sticky. 

“Marie!” She said quickly. “My baby’s name is Marie. She’s a little girl. Don’t you hear her crying? I have to find her!”

“We’ll find Marie, but first you have to tell me your name.” 

“Immy,” she replied, shuffling closer. “Imogen Stone. He took my baby again. He always is taking them away!” 

[Ella]

“Hello, Imogen.” It was getting hard to keep calm. Peter watched her step in Calvin’s blood and immediately holstered his gun, stepping forward and slowly reaching out his hands to clasp her shoulders. He knew it was ill-advised to grab at someone who’s clearly in a panic, but she seemed harmless enough and he needed to get her out of this room. “I’m gonna take you out of here, alright?” Pete started scanning the hallway, moving her along. She stumbled, unable to keep up with him, and opened her mouth to speak. “We’ll come back for… Marie.”
Something scuttled across the floor nearby, a rat most likely, and Peter tensed again. He wasn’t going to get this girl out of here on her own two legs. Eyes darting around them, he pulled his jacket off and draped it over her shoulders. It was wet and musky inside the asylum and she was clearly suffering somehow. Peter was no doctor, but he could see she was weak. His jacket went down to the backs of her knees, and he wondered how young this girl was. He winced at the idea of her being left here all on her own, her mind obviously driven insane.
Without asking, something Peter should have known better than forgetting, he wrapped one arm under her shoulders and the other under her knees, swooping the girl up in his arms. He tried to be as gentle as possible, noting the bubbling of red in a specific line across her abdomen. Had someone stabbed her, cut her in an attack? Had she encountered the same monster that had attacked Calvin?

[Tiara]

As the man lifted Imogen into his arms, her brain went into red alert. “NO!” She screamed, thrashing with all her might. She fell from his arms, on to the scuffed linoleum floor with a hard thud. The pain cut through her. “No! No! No!” She screamed again, scuttling away from him like a crab. She began to bleed. 

“Imogen, it’s alright. I won’t hurt you,” the cop cooed to her. 

She didn’t believe him. He was one of them. HE was going to take her back, and she would never find her baby! 

“You will! You will!” Immy wailed. “My baby, I have to find my baby, and you want to hurt me!” Her mind flahsed with image after image, locking her in her fear.

Immy backed herself into a corner, and tried to make herself as small as possible. She needed a plan. He wanted to hurt her, and stop her from finding Marie. 

The wail of a hungry baby made her scream out and cover her ears with her hands. Between her legs, blood soaked her t-shirt and panties, her incision threatened to split apart and spill forth her internal organs. Huge sobs over took Immy, her body shaking. 

“You’ll hurt me like him, again and again…”

[Ella]

Pete had been trained in negotiation, but nothing had prepared him for delusional, malnourished little girls. He cringed at the sound of her hitting the floor, and could see some of her blood transfer onto the tiles. She backed herself in the corner and he took a step to follow her, but her body physically responded in terror and he stop himself.
“Fuck, Imogen, come on!” He sounded like an angry father. He paced away from her, and for a flicker of a moment he considered the idea of simply leaving her here. But when he looked at her he knew she was the reason he’d come here in the first place. Maybe she was one of the missing people? Through all the terror he’d experienced in however long he’d been in this building as of yet, he hadn’t been able to identify her off the top of his head.
He stepped out to the hall for a moment, flashing his flashlight around him. He had always been a fairly big guy, muscled and tall, but this hallway made him feel tiny. He couldn’t begin to imagine how Imogen felt. Shaking his head, he slipped back into the room and made his way slowly over to her, crouching down to her level.
“I don’t know who did this to you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper and grumbling deep in his chest, “but he was a monster. Look at me, Imogen, do I look like a monster?”
He could see the blood coming from her stomach wound. She needed to let him examine it before it tore open on her. By the way it was already secreting blood, it wasn’t done correctly. He’d had enough stiches in his lifetime to know.
That’s when he noticed her chest. She was such a tiny girl, but her breasts were big in a way someone who was evidently malnourished wouldn’t usually have. He’d seen case after case of neglected children or anorexic teenage girls who’d run from home. What really got his attention, however, was that her long shirt was damp in two patches. Peter had seen this only on Calvin’s wife, Mindy, after the birth of their child. “I swear, if I don’t get myself to Emmy in time, I start leakin’ all over the place,” she’d giggled. Imogen was either experiencing a phantom pregnancy, which his basic logic ruled out due to her body being unable to truly produce milk in the state she’s in if she weren’t, or she had genuinely just had a baby. That would mean there’s either legitimately a baby nearby, or a dead fetus. Pete found himself pleading for a fetus. It would make this encounter much easier.

[Tiara]

Immy rocked back and forth in her corner, holding her hands to her ears, squeezing her head. Why couldn't he hear her? She needed to be fed. She needed her mommy. Where had he taken her? Taken the others: her babies, all four of them.

"Why does he take my babies away? Always. He always takes them away. Every single one of them," Immy babbled on. She was barely understandable, and her words sounded more like whimpers coming from her broken heart.

The cop took a tentative step towards Immy's corner, and crouched down. When she didn't flinch or cry out, he moved a little closer. He repeated this until he was almost within arm's length. "Listen," he began in a low voice, "I don't know why he took your..." he paused, still not believing this tiny girl could have one let alone several lost babies, "babies, but if you come with me in my police car, I will take you somewhere safe. And then, I will have some more people come and look all over this place for your baby. Okay, Immy?"

She didn't want to hear his words, his promises, but he wasn't like the others here, the ones who looked almost normal and human. Like him. She wanted to believe him, that he would help her. Immy's rocking came to halt as she came to a decision.

"Okay," she said.

The man, Peter as Immy recalled, held out his hand. Immy tentatively placed her's in his, and allowed him to pull her to her feet. She cried out in pain as she rose. He stomach felt like it was being cut open.

And then she saw the blood. Everywhere.

On the floor, on her, on him. The body lying torn on the floor.

Her eyes widened in terror. "More will be coming!" She cried out, grabbing onto his arm with her other hand. Suddenly, her panic overrode her pain. "Sharp teeth, razor hands, two heads, four legs, and a tail. They are coming!"

There was a sound out in the hall. Like the sound of nails running down a chalkboard. It was a sound to make your ears bleed.

"They're here!" Immy screamed.