The Crisis Situation

⇨Chapter 4⇦

[⚠ Trigger Warning! ⚠]

The guards at the institute were specially trained. They were always supposed to keep a close eye on the patient or patients around them, they were specially trained in fighting, receiving classes from very experienced cops. They were allowed to carry pocket knives, but had orders to not kill anyone, unless they were trying to kill you.

But... Jeff was a dumbass.

He didn't keep his eyes on Sam as well as he should've and Sam got out of the cuffs.

By the time he noticed, Sam had him pinned to the floor, a hand covering his mouth, and a crazed look in his eyes.

Jeff reacted fast - that was the only good thing about him, fast reflexes - and took out his pocket knife, flipping it open. He went to stab Sam in his shoulder, but he grabbed his wrist and was able to get the knife out of his hand.

Sam growled lowly and smiled crazily at Jeff before raising the knife and plunging it into his chest, grinning when Jeff let out a muffled scream. "Stabby, rip, stab, stab!" He said in a sing-song voice, as he did exactly that.

One stab to the chest, a rip in his skin, and two more stabs to the place where Sam deemed did get enough attention.

By the time Sam stopped, the light was long faded from Jeff's eyes. His blood was pooled around his lifeless body and Sam was a laughing mess. He sat back looking at his mess, still laughing. His hospital clothes were covered in blood, the color going from white to a dark red.

Slit your wrists, Sammy.

Do it!

Do it!

Do it!

The voices in his head started screming at him and he started to obey, cutting his wrists and arms with the knife, still giggling.

The door opened and Sam looked up, smiling as he watched Cas walk through the door, his eyes scanning over the area and going wide with fear. "The voices say hi!" Sam said with a grin, sitting down in the blood, watching Cas' every move.