Story Title: Home For The Insane- Or, two gangs in a mental asylum. Broken, darkened in their own ways.
Descrption: Half-Blood Asylum for the insane. Or, that's what the managers make the occupants believe. There are two groups- the boys and the girls. Both are extremely gifted, and insane. But they want out of the hell they're stuck in. They are not crazy. They're just different. Very dark.
Parings (Because there isn't a main core pairing, I know I usually have one, but it's really not focused on just ONE pairing: Percy/Aria, Dea/Nico/Leo, Darker Nico/Dea, Orlando/Melodie (Slow burn for these two. Like, really freaking slow. Possibly chapter 5 or 6 they get together).
Rating: Pure M for some gore and smut. Because it is an asylum, and these kids need to have some pure sex fun. Dark as well.
Disclaimer: This idea of a fanfiction is my idea, somewhat. Pulled some inspiration from "American Horror Story: Season Two: Asylum." By far the darkest season ever. And because my mind is pretty dark.
Anyways, enough of that! Time for another story!
If you don't like dark stories, and/or cannot handle gore, please click to go back. I do not wish to ruin your innocent souls.
But if you can handle these types of stories like me, continue to read! I encourage that you do, if you can handle these stories. My writing skills are not perfect, so please bear with me.
Third Person's POV
There's crazy people in this world. No, no, admit it. There are some crazy fucked up people on this planet.
People say it is the malfunction of our brains that make us this way. That would be somewhat true. There is also people influencing you, the outside world, you get it? I am not really going to go on as much anymore. If you do not understand, there is the fucking door.
And the craziest person and all?
Well, I should not say craziest, since it is a group of teenagers who are bat shit crazy.
Welcome to Half-Blood Asylum, home for the insane.
Melodie
I do not fucking know how or who put me in this shit hole. All I remembered was that I had blacked out, and I was strapped into a bed, (Very tightly I should add), and was named yet another patient in the asylum.
I was not interested in meeting any of the other patients there, because let me face it: We were all in our own way, fucking crazy.
Or that was what our stupid people that worked there in the asylum reminded us day and night. Honestly, they did not help with my sanity. In fact, I felt like I was slowly losing it.
Or maybe I no longer had it. After all, my diagnosis said that I was suicidal, bipolar disorder, and an eating disorder.
That, in my opinion, was the formula of insane.
There were seven people in the asylum itself. That, counting Percy, Nico, and Dea, and Aria's darker selves. Those four had been diagnosised with MPD- or, Multiple Personality Disorder.
They had warned me not to get close with them, telling me, "They are bat shit fucking crazy. You stay away from that craziness."
But since I was at the asylum, was I not crazy as well, I wanted to say to the ugly nurse's face.
But like the foolish person I was, I grew attached to them, another promise that I had broken since I arrived: Do not get attached to anyone in this shit hole.
And apparently, after a few weeks of staying at the asylum, I had figured out who had romantic feelings for who in this shit hole.
At least with that, there was light.
Percy liked Aria. Aria felt the same for him. So did their respective forms. And Percy number two had a crush on another girl who had previously was in the asylum, her name was Honoka. From what I had heard from all the stupid gossip, she was a total bitch, and was shipped off somewhere else.
And when that had happened, pretty much everyone had breathed out a sigh of relief and was fucking satisfied with her departure. I did not know what to feel, so I kept my emotions in my tiny little body.
My emotion never spiked up as much, even in my childhood. I never let people in, and when I did, I simply forced them out.
My first spike of emotion I had was when I woke up against the stone cold wall, and he had given me a puff of his smoke, and some disgusting yet editable food that tasted like shit.
". . . Hey! Psst! Wake the fuck up!" I heard a hoarse voice that I recognized as a boy as I slowly woke up from my slumber against the wall. My back hurt like shit.
And I would not say that my slumber was good. The bed, even though I was strapped into it, felt better than that. Of course in the cell, there was a bed. But like the stupid fool I was, I did not sleep in it whatsoever.
"Go the fuck away." I grumbled, rubbing my eyes.
"Unless you want to fucking starve, be my fucking guest." I heard him hiss as I heard his footsteps slowly fade away.
"Wait!" I yelled, scrambling to get up, but my body was too sore, so I crawled over, ignoring my pain. I heard the footsteps echo closer until I saw a boy, close to my age looking ruffled up and pretty much fucked up, look back at me.
"I'll take it." I spoke, inching for the food. The boy raised an eyebrow as he slid the plate of food over with a spoon intact. I quickly filled up the spoon with what looked like creamed corn, and shoved it in my mouth, before spitting it out and coughing.
"This tastes like fucking shit!" I hollered. The boy chuckled darkly.
"It does. But get used to it. It's fucking editable, so eat it." He snarled lowly, lighting his cigarette, taking a puff. I growled at him.
"You seem to know your way around this place," I mumbled as I shoved some more food down my throat. True to his word, it was editable, and it tasted okay. But it still tasted like shit and had no flavor. The boy chuckled darkly and took another puff.
"Want some?" He spoke, removing his cigarette from his mouth and offered it to me.
"Oh who gives a fuck? Give it here," I growled, leaning closer. The boy chuckled and inched it closer to my mouth as now in that position, I could put it in my mouth and inhaled it before blowing it out, seeing the grey smoke and I breathed out a sigh of relief as it numbed me down.
Now that I could see better, the boy was Mexican and did not look half as bad. His black hair kept getting in his small, dark brown eyes and the candles that were around the cells, the only light, made his caramel skin glow golden softly. His small, thin lips curled into a slight smirk as I scowled at him.
"So, what brings you to this shit hole?" He asked as he laid down behind the bars in front as I did the same, only behind the bars in the back.
"I do not fucking know, actually. I blacked out and I was strapped to a fucking bed. They did shock therapy on me. Surprised I can still think and use my brain." I replied bitterly, twirling the smoke.
"Well. I got here because apparently, I murdered my family. More like my father murdered them all and dumped me here." He replied in the same bitter tone.
"So your dad's a sadistic cold-blooded murderer?" I questioned him as I stared at the side of his face. Noticing this, he turned to face me and laughed, his laughter echoing off the walls.
"More like a sadistic motherfucker who beds every slut he can lay his eyes on," He replied, still laughing crazily. I chuckled softly as I looked down.
"Well. Enough about me. What about you, new girl?" he questioned, seeing my casted look. That made me look up at him and chuckled darkly like he had moments before.
"Well. Like I told you- I blacked out, and I landed here. I got gang-raped. I almost murdered them all," I replied. He looked at me closer now, our faces inches apart.
"Go on," He murmured, clearly interested now.
"I mean, there is really nothing special about me. I mean- look at me. My face is too big for my neck. My jaw line is too sharp, so even if I fucking contour it, I'll make it sharper. My eyes are far too dark and too big." I replied, basically describing everything I hated about myself. The boy studied me closer and replied.
"Well new girl, I think your jaw line is so sharp, it could cut a bitch. And your eyes are darker than mine. So much pain and sorrow. There is no more this asylum can do to you, but make you laugh. Like me. We're both fucked up so much that this place is like entertainment. Like for the rest of us here- this place is like our personal jungle gym, but the people in charge say it is our personal hell. Like fuck they are so right." He spat the last sentence, anger and madness laced in his tone as his eyes looked like they were laughing. I was taken back.
"No fucking way. No fucking way!" I started to laugh. He looked at me and laughed too.
"My emotions? You can fucking see them?" I questioned him as I laughed harder. He stopped laughing and looked at me straight into my eyes, dead center.
"Yeah new girl. They are all over you. I can see them perfectly. So dark, so disturbed, so fucking beautiful. That is art to me." He breathed out, making me shiver in excitement.
Fuck, what?
I had never felt excitement before. And my broken emotions, from what he could see- all of them, he said that he could see, he had called them beautiful.
My emotions. As dark as they were- he claimed that they were beautiful, and that they were art to him.
I was intrigued. Sucked in. Interested in what he had to say. Mainly because no one had ever noticed me before.
"They are art to you? You are fucking with me, right?" I asked him. His smirk just grew and that made me more excited.
"No. And I would like to fuck you, if only these cells walls were not here, I'd jump you and make you scream. I like it when girls scream for me. That is another thing I find very beautiful." He remarked. More shivers of excitement rushed through me and I moaned, leaning against the wall.
"Fuck you. Stop turning me on, asshole." I snapped. That made him laugh.
"Oh, that turns me on too." He replied casually, smirking. He was drinking in my sound, looking practically insane.
There was a sound of horn blasting through as I quickly shoved the rest of the food down my throat and panicked as he got up, preparing to leave.
"Wait!" I called out as I finished the smoke, and as he began to walk away from my cell. He looked behind him and looked at me, the smirk still plastered on his face.
"I-I never got your name." I breathed out.
"Orlando. Orlando Miranda. People here call me YoYo." He replied. I laughed a little.
"Melodie. Melodie Yang. People call me Christine. And I will call you a pervert. Feel free to fuck me whenever you wish." I chuckled. He chuckled back and nodded.
"Well. It was nice talking to you, Christine." My nickname floated from his mouth like a poisoned stream that was tainted red and was floating into another dirty filled dam, ready to strike.
Once he left, I laid down against the wall and looked up at the ceiling.
Maybe life here in this shit hole would not be so bad after all, if I had Orlando for company.
A/N: So… what did you guys think? Good? Bad? Did my grammar improve?
I'm joking on that last part. Writing the characters as dark seems so fun! This chapter was Morlando-centered, because I needed to have some interaction with them in there.
Maybe Morlando will be the key focus of the pairings, who knows?
Next chapter, Melodie meets the rest of the fuck-ups that reside in the asylum! So more darkness and cussing!
Like I stated before, if this is not your cup of tea, please do not read this further.
Signed,
The Author of this fanfic
