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Post by Zed on Jan 12, 2011 19:22:39 GMT -5
Chuck [/i][/right] Click.
Click. Click.
Click. Click. Click.
Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick--
"That's enough, Mr. Bartowski." A heavy hand weighed down the television remote in Chuck's grasp. He let the orderly take it. By now he'd of course figured out that there were only three channels here in the lounge, none of which had anything good on. He thought of his DVD collection back home in LA and sighed. He was frustrated.
No, frustrated wasn't quite the right word. He was pissed. They'd taken everything from him. Everything. And now he wasn't even sure if his team had escaped the area after all, if they'd been found out same as him, if they were both now Stepford clones with no desire to deviate from the norm.
Did the affected still love? Could they still care for those left behind? His stomach roiled, and it had nothing to do with the subpar cafeteria food. He prayed they had escaped and just left him behind. And he hoped they'd come back for him.
He laughed to himself. Of course he couldn't tell the staff here about his real job. He'd get labeled as even more delusional than they already thought he was. But like hell he was going to sit here and wait to either conform or die. The entire time he'd been in the facility, his sharp eyes had taken note of every security camera, every posted orderly, and every electronic device he could possibly destroy for parts.
The remote might work. It didn't serve any useful purpose anyway. And he'd had yet to go to the arts and crafts room. Chuck was no MacGyver, but he was pretty damn smart; they didn't give Stanford engineering degrees to just anyone.
And he was not going to take this lying down. [/color][/size] |
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Post by ~Akira~ on Jan 17, 2011 4:11:26 GMT -5
"Rolly rolly rolly down we go down we go~" Escorted by at least three security guards this time, came Alexei Winter. Down to the lounge area. He was handcuffed on both his wrists and ankles to a wheelchair. A fine example of animal cruelty he was. He almost would remind someone of a rabid animal, and yet, he wasn't quite trying to gnaw off the guard's limbs either. "Where ya takin me now mister man~ Down down down we go~ Like the birds~" He shivered. He hated birds. Their creepy little black eyes just always staring at him, waiting for him to not expect it. "They eat yer eyes! The birds! Oh god not the birds!" He seemed to thrash a bit in his chair, trying to fling away the invisible creatures that were apparently 'pecking him to death'. The guards shook their heads and one of them patted his shoulder, earning a very loud growl and a sudden string of death threats, curses, and the attempted bite.
Patient Alexei Winter. Hostile. Do not touch. Morpheine recommended to calm his nature. A pain killer? Was that all it took? Well, in truth it made him higher than a kite, and as long as it didn't give him a bad trip, which it usually didn't, he would calm right down. He felt the stick in his shoulder and screamed so loud his entire world shook with the vibrations. He felt like god just then, making the world shake at his voice, so he kept on screaming, watching the birds fall from the sky, the oceans dry up and the clouds and stars just disappear. He hated stars too. They always watched you, no matter where you went. Like little blue spy cameras. And suddenly, his voice stopped, he fell limp in his chair as the guards got closer to the lounge area.
They rolled him on in, his head was flopped to one side and his eyes were wide. It was probably one of the rare occasions that they could be seen without that bright murderous blood lust in them. Instead they were filled with something.... well, not quite there. One of the guards went to go sit in a corner, the other two went on their ways to fetch and orderly to watch him. He must be watched, always.
"The birds you see.... They betray your thoughts... the birds...." He mumbled a bunch of incoherant thoughts that didn't ever make a lick of sense. The guard was simply reading a newspaper, listening to his radio. How he hated his job. Alex's head spun in an almost creepy way to face the other patient in the room. The slight static from the tv was talking to him. Telling him such naughty naughty things. Things he should do. He started giggling a little. Not like overly profound giggling. Just that tiny 'tee hee' like kind that just ran through you when something was slightly funny. "You're gonna die here ya know. Just like me. Just like them. We're all gonna die. In a big ball of fire and ice. Yellow fire and ice. Yellow.... Yellow.... The birds. They betray your thoughts. They tell me things you see.. About you. About me!! Ahahahahaha!"
"Ignore him. He's a looney one." The guard muttered from the corner, whether it was directed at Chuck or himself, I'm not really even sure he knew. "A real looney one."
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Post by Zed on Jan 18, 2011 22:56:30 GMT -5
Chuck [/i][/right] Chuck glanced over at the newcomer, the one handcuffed to the wheelchair. Some people clearly didn't belong here, Chuck thought, like himself - of course, he realized, that was also what all crazy people thought - but some people definitely needed to be locked up in a padded room away from any sharp edges or corners.
This guy in the wheelchair? He was one of those people.
As if the restraints weren't enough of an indication, his babble about birds sealed the deal. Unless of course he was merely acting mad, and had other designs...
Yeah, the spy life had definitely made him paranoid. Maybe he did belong in here.
His thoughts turned again to escape. There might have been scissors in the Arts and Crafts room - safety scissors, no doubt, but if he broke them apart and had something to sharpen them against, they were a definite possibility. Perhaps he could pick up a rock outside. A rock might do. Of course, he'd have to hide all the components, and they were to be sure to search his room, given what they knew about him, the bare minimum that was in his file, that he was smart and he was resourceful and he could see possibilities no-one else would ever dare.
Yes, they were sure to search his room thoroughly, and count the scissors every time one of the poor sods entered or left the room. He'd come up with something.
He had to, before long.
His thoughts were interrupted by an orderly coming towards him with a syringe. He knew what was in it. Haloperidol - effective within seconds when injected intravenously. The crazy guy temporarily forgotten, Chuck stood up, eyes fixed on the needle. They apparently hadn't liked the way he'd been staring off into space. They didn't want him thinking for too long.
Because letting him think made him dangerous.
"That's not necessary," he said quickly. Perhaps a little too quickly. His heart was pounding in his ears; he was feeling lightheaded. A light sheen of sweat could be seen on his face. He struggled to keep his breathing even and his blood pressure under control. None of this made him seem less crazy, and he was well aware of the unfortunate fact.
They couldn't just give pills to the trypanophobe, could they? No, pills were too easy to vomit back up, to fake taking. They had to be sure. Mr. Bartowski was very dangerous.
"Really, it's not necessary," he said, inching backwards towards the wall. The orderly said nothing. Chuck sent what was almost a pleading glance at the crazy guy in the wheelchair.
Help. [/color][/blockquote] |
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Post by ~Akira~ on Jan 19, 2011 1:32:57 GMT -5
The guy in the corner. He was thinking something. He could tell it was something. But nothing compared to what he was. What exactly was he thinking anyways? Well by this point, his imagination had been getting quieter and quieter as the medicine began to kick in. That wasn't very fun, but alas, it was all that this other person could have asked for. "Oh lookie there, My cuff is loose. Maybe if i just... Squeezed right on out of it..." And he did. He had spent so much time in cuffs that he had been able to bend the bones in his hands just enough to get out. They never tightened them too tight because he was so out of it most of the time anyways. But now. Oh now they were going to regret it.
The guard in the corner stood up, but it was too late. Alex was already standing, and there was nothing they could do about him now. The orderly went to him, and the guard screamed out that the orderly shouldn't touch him, but he did. Oh he did. Alex screamed, biting, kicking, scratching, and all out just wailing on anyone that dared to touch him. (insert epic fight scene here because i realllly suck at writing them just sayin)) He waited for more, hoped for more, but no one else came. The guard lay knocked out on the floor, and the orderly was probably close enough to dead. But no one else came. And why had they not he wasn't quite sure. A wicked grin came over his face at the blood on his hands from the orderlies face. He began to laugh. Why he hadn't been injected, oh they had tried, but he had just been, too fast. It wasn't often that he was free. And quickly, before the other had escaped, he got right up next to him.
"Well now. You see?" His voice was a wicked chuckle. He was right in front of him, his hands spread wide and he was slightly hunched over, much like a cat stalking its prey. "What're you hmm? An enemy? Or a friend? Neither? Well that's not very fun."
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Post by Zed on Jan 19, 2011 20:57:16 GMT -5
Chuck [/i][/right] Normally, Chuck didn't freeze in the face of violence, even if the sight of blood did still make him a little squeamish.
This, however, was an exception. He froze like a deer in headlights as the crazy guy in the wheelchair contorted out of the handcuffs they'd put him in and...
...ooh. That guy was not going to be getting up in a hurry. The orderly was even worse off - the syringe was stuck through his eye. Chuck doubted he'd live, and was a little sorry for that. Even if the guy had been about to stick him with a needle, well...he was still a medical professional. Like his sister and her fiancé.
Yeah. This guy was one of the Hannibal Lecter types, straitjacket and mask and all. Great. Awesome, even.
Chuck tried to get away, but the insane guy popped up right next to him like some sort of ninja jack-in-the-box. A short, sharp, "Ah!" of surprise escaped his mouth before he clamped it shut, weighing his options.
Play nice with the crazy dude. "Enemy? Enemy? No, no, I'm not your enemy, but I could be your friend if you wanted me to be," he said very quickly. "Like I know a lot of stuff, I'm a good guy to have around, uh, uh...for instance, there's a little bone in your thumb you can break to escape handcuffs when they're on tighter, you just apply some torsional pressure and snap! It's off. Easy, really. A little painful, but I guess you know all about pain."
Great, now he was babbling. He immediately cut himself off before he could dig himself any deeper. His dark eyes caught sight of a blinking red light over the crazy guy's shoulder; this was all on camera. If he seemed terrified (which he was), maybe they'd think he wasn't in league with the crazy guy. The cameras didn't look like they recorded sound; just black-and-white video. [/color][/blockquote] |
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Post by ~Akira~ on Jan 20, 2011 1:56:22 GMT -5
The guy was going on and on about some bone in a thumb. He looked at his thumb, just staring at it. Suddenly he stuck it in the guys face. "Ya know what I can do with this? I could kill you. There's spots. Everywhere there's spots. But. The spots you see, they make you die. If you have to many anyways. There's a lot of them here. I don't have any spots. They're only on the sick people. I'm not sick. Nope not at all." He looked at the other, getting on his tip toes. "Hey mister. Am I pretty?"
Ahh the question. The question that decided fate. But this guy knew things. Could he help him? Locked away in here. He'd always been locked up, killed his family and got away with no bruises, cuts, scratches, anything. No one knew how he did it. He wasn't a very big kid, and he didn't seem really skilled in... well, anything. He was simply, nuts. That seemed to be the only thing going for him. The other male was looking at something. He could tell just by the way his eyes shifted away from him. He didn't like that much. He raised his hand, taking the other's chin in between his fingers. "Oi! I asked you a fucking question!" His voice was a bit of a growl. "Am I not good enough for you?"
But soon, the word must have gotten out as an alarm went off. Yes, the dreaded alarm. One that signaled the attempted escape of a patient. "Ah the cameras! The cameras~" He leapt away from the man and began to dance, putting on a show. The guards were there in a matter of minutes. Alex put up quite a fight against them, but soon his hands were behind his back and he was in cuffs once more. He was injected a few times with the drugs that calmed him. His head lolled to the side as he was put back in his chair.
"Alexei Winter. Damn this kid is messed up. Is the ambulance here yet?" One of the orderlies checked the pulses of the other two and slowly shook his head. Alex burst into maniacal laughter. He had killed them, and he was glad. Surely they would kill him for this? Nah. He was criminally insane. Incapable of thought on his own. "Put him in solitary. And I don't care what he tries, drug him if you have to, I want him in a straight jacket." Alexei was taken out, singing and laughing, asking the guards if he was pretty. He would be out in a few days wouldn't he? And by then, he could easily meet up with Chuck again. Unless the other chose to visit him, or stand up for him. After all, he wasn't this insane before he got here. Oh, he was crazy, but solitary simply made it worse.
((sorry my muse is slightly dead. I'm trying to make a skin and doing a bunch of codes and gah >.< I'll try and have a better post next time))
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Post by Zed on Jan 21, 2011 0:18:40 GMT -5
Chuck [/i][/right] "Uh..." Quick, make nice with the crazy guy. "Uh, pretty? I don't know if I'd go with pretty, I mean, I'd call my girlfriend pretty, but you, you, you're more handsome, in sort of a boyish way..." he trailed off as the alarm began.
His stomach flipped as he witnessed the fighting, trying to make himself as unobtrusive as possible. He might have joined in, but he was a strategic sort; he knew this was a losing battle, and fighting it would only end in getting stuck with so many syringes he'd be vomiting needles.
Which was not even close to being a pleasant thought.
Alexei Winter. He filed the name away in his mind as the orderlies drugged the young man up again. Dangerous even when unarmed. Also, a few chops short of a barbecue.
Unreliable; possibly an ally. It would be good to remain on his good side. The kid was going into solitary; Chuck would be there when he got out. Sooner if they'd allow visitors. A new plan was already beginning to form itself in his mind - a plan which contained Winter as a central piece.
"Did he hurt you?" one of the orderlies grunted at him.
"Me? No," Chuck said.
"He got awful close. Lucky for you we got here in time."
"Heh, heh, yeah," Chuck said noncommittally, sliding into a nearby chair. His hands were shaking, but not from trypanophobia this time. He'd been genuinely freaked. He tried to get his twitching under control before a nurse or orderly saw him and tried to give him the haloperidol or lorazepam again. [/color][/blockquote] |
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Post by ~Akira~ on Jan 21, 2011 2:22:00 GMT -5
((heh. lorazepam. I have to take that for insomnia... and to prevent panic attacks. XD))
Solitary. The dreaded Solitary. Those padded walls. He had gotten his way though. No straight jacket. But they had tried. Oh they had tried. After all, it had been ordered of them, but they had only used 5 guards. He was just too quick for them. the orderlies kind of laughed at their pitiful attempts, and attempted themselves. He was ballistic when he was touched though. Drugged or not it made him scream bloody murder. And well, that just didn't go over too well with their supervisor at the time. So they wound up just cuffing him with three sets of hand cuffs all tightened as much as they could be and threw him in.
He went without food that day. That didn't make him terribly happy, but he imagined eating someone's foot. He can't really say it tasted very great. Human flesh was kind of tangy and he didn't like it much. So instead he just ripped apart a near by elf. Nah not the helpful kind of elf. One of the nasty kinds, to ones that steal your socks and tug at your ears at night. He had to run away from a cat when it came to eat it though. The cats would eat your brains they would. And the birds. They'd peck out your eyes. He swore the two were working together.
The three days passed quickly and the light hurt his eyes once he removed from the padded room. The orderlies that removed him noticed chunks missing and it appeared that he had simply been eating the walls. It was odd, but he was rambling about eating rabbits and squirrels and unicorns. Yes. Unicorns. He was taken back to his room, given his medication, and locked up there. He fell asleep, down to only one pair of handcuffs now, but these ones had a longer chain, made it a bit easier to sleep.
His dreams ran rampant in his head, but they stayed there, and when he woke up, his head hurt. He demanded water, but no one would give it to him. His medication was administered, and he acted somewhat normal, answering questions about the incident a few days previous. He swore he couldn't remember, that maybe one of his little friends talked him into it. Ya know, the little ones that live in your ears? They're always telling him bad things. But they pushed it off and let him rest.
Alex was just getting comfortable in his bed when the other showed up. After all, they were in the same wing, and he had made sure everyone knew he was back. He was hated by a lot of the people there. But he didn't care. Alex never really cared for company anyways. "You're that guy from the lounge right?" He asked, a wicked grin coming over his face. Medicated he seemed slightly stable. "So. I really killed another two people eh? Hahahaha that's great. Add to my achievements."
((sorry its so rushed. my head kinda hurts so processing posts is hard.))
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Post by Zed on Jan 21, 2011 9:21:33 GMT -5
Chuck [/i][/right] When Winter said that, Chuck had a sudden vision of a little Xbox 360 achievement in the corner of his eye, and he had to fight down a fit of incredibly inappropriately-timed giggles. Great. Maybe I am going nuts here.
"Here," Chuck said, holding out his hand to the criminally insane one. In it was a disposable cup of off-brand chocolate pudding with the foil still on. He'd managed to charm it out of the cafeteria personnel with his winning smile. "I told them it was for you...they took away the spoon before I got in here. Something about keeping it away for my own safety. Figured they haven't been letting you eat."
Whether Winter liked it or not, it still felt like a bribe. But hey, he'd heard the rumors of torn-up padding after they'd taken him out of solitary; the kid was probably starving, and they were withholding food as punishment. That wasn't right. Even guys on Death Row got to pick out a last meal.
He knew his tendency to see the best in people was often a hindrance in his line of work. It was very difficult to see the best in Alexei Winter...but one thing Chuck knew about him was that he was an efficient, uncontrollable killer. He'd casually asked around (okay, that was a lie, he'd still been freaked and asked the orderly in the lounge just what Winter had done to end up here) and he now knew the basics about his new 'friend'.
But he wanted to hear it from the horse's mouth. "Mind if I ask you how you ended up here?" he said casually, as if it didn't really matter. One thing he knew about egomaniacs was that they loved to talk about themselves...and Winter seemed to fit that mold so far with his obsession with his own attractiveness.
((Ouch. Feel better! And don't feel like you have to post when you're unwell!)) [/color][/blockquote] |
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Post by ~Akira~ on Jan 21, 2011 16:11:15 GMT -5
He had pudding. Puuuuudddinggg. It was chocolate, and cheap tasting. But he didn't care. It was pudding! Soft and delicious. A treat! He had done something good! "There's... no spoon.... Am I to eat it with my fingers?" He glared down at it and removed that little metal cover. He bent it into a scoop shape and started using that carefully. Pudding on his fingers was not something that he wanted. He was very very picky about what touched his skin.
What had he been thrown in here for? With his clothing style, well, minus the crown of course, he could have passed as normal. If not for that personality of his. How had he wound up here? "My family. They were all killed you see. Someone tried to killed us too. Everyone. There was blood everywhere. They found me in a corner rambling on and on about the blood. They dragged me in and gave me medicine. So much medicine. They said it'd make me better. But now I'm like this. Crazy. So crazy..." Alright, so he hadn't mentioned anything about the courts, anything about the fact that he himself had killed everyone that lived in that apartment. But to him, he hadn't committed those crimes. It just didn't fit into his reality.
The fact was that this person wanted something from him. He really wanted something from him, but what exactly was it that he wanted? "What are you here for? I suppose not one of the crazy ones right? just one of the mistaken understood ones right?"
((eh dun worry about it. I post whenever. Even if i am sick usually))
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Post by Zed on Jan 22, 2011 2:36:53 GMT -5
Chuck [/i][/right] Chuck nodded, though Winter's behavior was inconsistent. One minute bragging about 'another' two kills, the next claiming that someone else had murdered his family. Dissociation, the psychiatrists called it. Interesting.
"Me?" Chuck asked. "Me, I'm, uh, normal. Ish. They gave me the injection but all it did was make me sick. The worst part is I was just passing through. I'm not even from around here." He shrugged, as if he wasn't bothered by his captivity (he was) and didn't particularly care about getting out (he did). "So hopefully my friends will come and get me out."
His mood darkened as he thought about it. They had no way to get in touch with him in here - he was going to have to be the one to initiate contact...that is, if they were even still themselves. A radio. He had to get a radio...
Suddenly he was thinking about all the prison movies he'd ever watched. He really hoped he didn't have to tunnel out with a spoon. That would take way too long.
((Sorry it's so short! I'm exhausted.)) [/color][/blockquote] |
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Post by ~Akira~ on Jan 28, 2011 17:42:50 GMT -5
Humm. This person was just in here because of that drug was he? Well that kind of made sense, a lot of people were in here because of that. "They never bothered giving it to me..." They must have known he was just too nuts, it probably wouldn't have done anything to make him any better anyways. "So. What happens if this little experiment drug of theirs gets out to the whole world? What if your friends are already locked up? There wouldn't be any hope for you then would there?"
He smirked a little bit and finished his pudding, putting the cup on the small table just beside his bed. "I'm actually rather amazed that my door was unlocked..." He pondered it for a few minutes, looking towards the people standing at the door, their heads smashed in, striped shirts much like his own. "Huh. I suppose they're not real now are they?" He nodded towards the door where there really wasn't anybody there. But he did see something. "Hmm. A guard. Guards have keys, radios, and usually something to beat others with."
He debated for a moment whether or not impersonating a guard would be a good thing. certainly he wasn't old enough to pull it off, plus almost everyone there would recognize him regardless. "You could do it. Kill a guard take his stuff. Watch the world burn." His hands motioned like and explosion and he began to laugh softly. "Of course I could help!"
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