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Driven by the mere thirst of his insanity, Harry knew it was time. Time for him to escape the hell he so endures every second. The hell with dark grey cement walls covering every side, no windows except for the one on the sinewy metal door, and a thin, disinigrating mattress. The mental ward. The only escape is during free time, but even that's torture. The sound of banging heads of the depressed on the wall. The crying and screaming and laughter filling bloody ears.

Most take this time to sulk, to unleash their anger on others, however, Harry is different. Usually quiet and reticent. He is the talk of the ward. He holds the mystery of the dark building in his hands. He is dominant and everyone knows enough to not question him. He is the true mastermind that everyone looks up to.

During free time for the past couple of months, he's been searching. Studying. Hell-bent on an escape. Though, the free time sometimes wasn't enough. This is when his good looks and charm came in.

Harry is flirtatious with all of the sisters. Nuns, that is. His devilish, malicious ways breaks their bond with god, breaking their saint like ways. He leaves their beds getting what he so desired, answers. The nuns are left cold, shunned by their savior for they had committed an ungodly task. Submitting to the devil.

No matter how hard they try to stop, they keep coming for more, though Harry has no use for them now. His plan is ready. Today, September 19th, 1950, all the patients are on edge. Anxiety dissipates. The anxiety of losing their beloved ruler. The ruler with long curly brown hair, peircing green eyes and a perfectly sculpted facial structure.

Harry understands the jeopardy he is putting every patient in the asylum by escaping. He has met a lot of good people in there. He has vowed not to bring anyone along. 

He is more than ready to unleash his fervor for freedom. He licks his lips thinking of the sultry weather kissing his skin once he is out. His thoughts jumbled, mad. His green eyes darken every second. All that manages to unleash from his body is the piercing maniacle laighter no one is used to. Suspicion has hightened, creating thick tension. The tension so thick it seems to grasp a hold on everybody's throat, making them silent. Even their thoughts are chained.

Harry goes along his day with a smirk. His cocky nature coming into play. He knows he will get away with this. He can feel it. He's got everybody bowing down to him. Its always been that way. Always will be, even when he is gone. He refers himself as a God, though he is most popularly known as the leader of the antichrist. The Devil, driven by the whispers in his head.

Harry watches as night eats away the light of day across the murky sky of kentucky. He is ready. Restless. Anxious as to what's to come. He can smell the freedom in the air. He can feel it in his bones.

The darkness had already overcome hours earlier, painting the asylum with shadows and misery and highlighting those certain spots that are abhorrent to the eyes. The stars are dim. Too weak to twinkle. Too dead. A full moon is hidden behind gloomy fog. A seemingly heinous quiet concealed the asylum. Mistreatment screamed and crumbled within the humidity of the night.

The halls vibrate with footsteps as the guards and nuns make their midnight rounds. Harry stares at the ceiling with content. The loud click of heels gets louder above the sounds of shouting guards. It stops at his door and he feels the overwhelming feeling of eyes pinned to him. His heads snaps to the door to see Jackie, his beloved nun. His favorite.

He smirks up at her while slowly making his way to the door. She bites her lip and the instant sexual tension builds. He knows what she wants. He reaches a hand out the small square window on the door and grazes it along her cheek. Her breathing hitches as he brushes his thumb over her lips. She looks up at him. Lust overpowering her soft brown eyes.

"Sister Jackie!" A guard's voice booms through the silence, causing her to jump.

"Just a second," she calls back, reconnecting her eyes to Harry's chilling green spectacles. He smirks and heads back to his mattress. He closes his eyes, his senses heightened to the max. He waits. Waits for the right moment. The moment when the demons tell him to go.

His plan relays in his mind non stop in the meantime. Provoking him. Taunting him. Minutes go by though they feel like hours. Harry's demented mind seemed to tick like a clock. Counting down to the very second.

He looks in every corner of his cell. The demons count, eyes fixaded on him. He smirks at them. He can't help but laugh. The demons join with him. His laugh echoes throughout the ward. Its his way of officially imprinting this place. It's his final goodbye.

"Harry, go to bed," A guard shouts out.

"Dont make him mad," Jackie whispers. The all too familiar spark ignites in his gut. His inner wrath waking up, ready to play. A sensation driven by his uncontrollably twisted mentality. He clentches his fists, jaw clenched so tight, his teeth threaten to break.

He looks toward the demons surrounding him as their energies consume him. "Aren't you done with how they treat you here? Aren't you going to do something?" They taunt, yet Harry stays put in his bed and waits for only one thing. The cue.

Their sharp teeth flare. "Now." Harry smirks and shoots from his bed. His hands connect to the small bars on the small window on his cell door and begins shaking it visiously.

Spit flies within aspersing mannerisms. Vulgarity flows from his mouth with such ease, a chilling intonation. Guards begin to call upon the nuns to help sedate him.

The whole ward seems to wake up at their master's antics. Voices begin to scream. Some begin to shout. All cheering Harry on. The frantic voices of the nuns is soon drowned out by the commotion of the other patients as Harry starts kicking at the door. He smirks before they reach his door. Showtime.

Jackie is the first one to appear in the window. Fear and disappointment is etched across her doughy-eyed face. "It's ok Harry. It's going to be ok," She tries to comfort him. Harry growls down at her. She whimpers and he laughs. He feels unstoppable. The adrenaline sends him into a state of deep madness and he feeds off it. He thrives off it.

Jackie fumbles with the keys and finally gets the door open. The nuns barge in and attempt to grab a hold of Harry. He jumps out of reach. The demons crowd the room, encouraging him. Telling him what to do.

"Let them get a hold on you," They tell him. Harry, keeping the dangerous facade, complies. Nails dig in his skin. Violent, bloody screams leak out of him in haste.

"Get the needle, quick!" The nuns shout. A blonde nun rushes out into the hallway. The harsh clicks of her heels instantly drown out by the cheering of the other patients.

Harry inhales the energy like smoke from a cigarrette. His power shining through. He is getting more able- bodied by the second. The nuns begin to struggle. Small whimpers escape their lips as they try hard to contain Harry beneath their delicate hands.

The blonde nun finally rushes through the door with a large thick needle. The top spits something undesirable as she shakily prepares it. Harry smirks at her as she lays here eyes upon her target. She begins to tremble. He can feel it.

He can feel the vibration of her vulnerability rush through him all at once. Surpassingly pleasureable. So strong it hurts, but in the best way. The closer he got the more still he became. It's as if the demons took a hold of his narrow, lean shoulders. Holding him in place, waiting for the right time.

His dark eyes, filled with poison and rage, remain fixed on the nun. The needle in his peripheral.

"Jenna please do it!" Jackie calls out. Seconds before the chaos, the atmosphere fills with astriction. The very tensity holds the nuns in place. Chains their feet with weights that they themselves can't articulate. Their sanity kept in clawed hands. A sanity held so loosely.

The bleakness that contracts Harry's body, surrounding his mentality instantly as cold hits hot, is enough to send him further into the pits of hell. So deep that his once darkened, mysterious green eyes become coated with a black. A black so nefarious. Holding an attestation of fire. The fire ignites through him, giving him such vigor.

His hand connects to the medical device before it is fully pushed in him. He swings it around with such agility that it is impossible to surpass. His true identity unable to conceal itself in the fictitious carapace he has been cursed with his entire life. He will be free. Whispers ring in his ears, causing him to thrash with delight as he has found a weapon.

His mind whirls all at once in a dizzying spell of maddening thoughts. A sudden craving crawls up his throat, choking him. A craving for blood. The blood of the people he has grown to hate. And with that craving, supremacy came over him, controlling his arm's movements, swinging the sharp metal through Jenna's throat multiple times.

A velvety glaze enfolds his ear drums. A soft clang of Jenna's collapse is the only sound that becomes audible. He listens as her poor soul suffers, trapped in a weak body. Crawling its way out desperately in an attempt to ease the pain. Time slows. Souls mourn as they are stricken and impaled with the insanity they've grown to hate.

The insanity they have tried to escape from. Little do they know they can't be saved. No one can. Insanity thrives in everyone. It's incised in us all. It crawls within and it's only a matter of time until it wants out, creating its only freedom. Hell.
~
A/n
Hey everybody! Welcome to my fanfic! First off, thank you so much for reading! It means alot! Just letting ya'll know that the first seven or eight chapters are ones I wrote a long long time ago, therefore, my writing seems a bit uneven. I am working on re-writing these chapters and they will soon be released! Thank you for your patience!
-Isabelle<3

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