The Corpse And The Crazy

Chapter 1 - 4

~*Crazy*~

'Seen, not heard.' Yeah, sure. As if. I don't know who came up with that sentence, but I have never heard falser words. When I  made myself be seen, they locked me up in an asylum.   Sure, I tried to behead a man, shoot a second and poison a third. But come on, shit happens. And how could I have known that one of those men knew how to do karate? I think it just wasn't fair. I deserve a rematch. This time with the gun I forgot to bring. 

Then I would finish what I started. I would kill them.  Well, that sounds a bit harsh.  I would make sure they didn't see the end of days. That just sounds a bit... ominous.  I will be the death that does them part.  A bit too poetic for my taste, but I'll accept it. 

I hear you wonder, why must these people meet their maker? Why must they meet their ends before it is their time? 

I'll tell you. When I was just sixteen-

Hold on, you had me monologuing! Caught you there! 

Now, back to important matters. 

Since the day that I was put in this place, I've been warning them. About what? About the vampires, of course! They're here, I'm sure of it. The doctors may say it's my melancholia or whatever that's giving me hallucinations. But that's all bullshit. 

Sure, if I could kill myself, I would! But is that reason to feed me medications twenty times a day? Is that reason to babble incoherently and then declare me insane? No! Only a crazy person would do that. Ironically. 

I'm sure of it. They've infiltrated our world, deluding us into thinking that they're just fiction. But I see through all of that! I know... I know it all! The positions of power, it's all theirs. That, that least is true...

Oh! Time for lunch! 

I know it's time for lunch because it's the only time the voices shut up. It's also the only time that I see other people. Apart from the shadow people, that is. Although, those do look incredibly realistic sometimes... 

'Miss Apate, your meal,' Brian mumbled, while clearly thinking of other matters. He put the plastic bowl of goo down in front of me, liquid-like sustenance splashing over the edges. Today, the goo was blue! At least, it was almost blue. In reality, it was greyer than the sky on a cloudy day, but what's the fun in that? 

'So, of what does my exquisite cuisine exist today?' I said with my best posh accent. I tried acting as if I was drinking a cup of tea, with my pinkie stuck out and all that. But that didn't quite work out, mainly because I was wearing a hug jacket. 

Brian did not appreciate it. He must have had a long day, even though it was only noon. 

'Turn around,' he grumbled. His shoes with velcro straps approached. I wondered how long ago it was that I had even laid eyes upon shoelaces. 

'Miss.'

'Oh, yeah, right.' I turned around and he unbuttoned the hug jacket. While he handed me the food and went to settle down in the corner, I realised I never asked his name. Sure, I usually just call him Brian, but that's just because he looks like a Brian. I mean, what other name could a thirty-something, brown-haired white man have, that works in a mental asylum? Steve?