Oh hey, look! Ezzy's writing a new story. I promise not to put months between updates... ._.
This will be a story about two mentally insane patients, eventually falling for each other. I won't try and confuse my readers simply because it's a crazy fic. Some people like to make reading it confusing because the characters are insane. But I hate when it gets too confusing, so I won't try to make your brains hurt.
This idea really belongs to CentonObsessionJCxRKO. It's because of her that I know how to write Randy like this, so you should check her stuff out. She's a good writer and has some well rounded characters. But if you don't like this Randy, blame her. c:
Warnings: There will be voices, breakdowns, blood, and possibly rape. This story is not for the squeamish and if you have a problem with my addiction to pain and suffering, then leave. But I promise to not overkill. This could end happily, it could end in tragedy. Im not sure, you'll just have to read and wait. ;)
Johnny won't come until next chapter. This is introducing Randy and the setting. Sorry for the long A/N XD I promise they won't be this long from now on.
PS, excuse my shitty grammar.
Enjoy my lovelies!
The jury's eyes laid upon Randy Orton with pity.
Pity? Randy loathed the word. He was sick, they said. Whispering voices overlapped the voices of the real world. And distinguishing reality from hallucinations was a difficult task. Although... for Randy, the fine line between insane and being just okay had become thicker an thicker with each word that was whispered in his ill mind. The words of the voices. Of the unwell. Because yes, Randy Orton was not well. But he would not be okay. Never again would he be just okay.
Randy would like to think he was just a little sick. But deep down, in the rational part of his lost mind, he knew. He knew he was dangerous. He was a predator. And he knew that if he could, he'd kill again. If only to make the voices stop. To have peace of mind. To have that blissful silence that everyone in the courtroom possesed in their minds. But the judge looked at Randy like he was Satan. Not an ill patient. Randy was a freak of nature.
The death penalty.
That was too sweet of a deal for Randy. Too good to be true. To put Randy to death would be the sweetest release. The thought of death intrigued Randy. To feel nothing. To sleep forever in peaceful silence
The insanity plea.
Randy Orton heard it before but he was always lucky enough to get out of the hospital early with signs of improvement. He'd been sent to anger management of course, though this was not a problem with anger. And one mental hospital, but never as horrible as where he was about to go. Of course, those signs of improvement were false. The voices never left. Randy was never sane. And this time, Randy knew for sure that he'd never see daylight again. He knew that this time, he would be locked away for good.
"I find the defendant not guilty by reason of schizophrenia. Therefore he will be placed in Blackcliffe Hospital for the Criminally Insane indefinitely," The judge said, making sure to put emphasis on the word "indefinitely".
The loud bang of the gavel made Randy flinch, and glare at the judge. If his hands and feet weren't cuffed together, he'd have ripped that man's face off. The voices in his head told him he should.
"Ya know, I bet you could get out of these cuffs. Rip him to shreds, Randy. There's nothing wrong with us. We don't belong in an asylum. You, me, us. We're okay," The voices whispered to Randy.
Randy rolled his neck, clenching his fists until they turned white. He wanted it to stop. He wanted his head to be silent. But he also wanted to listen to them.
"You like us, Randy. You love us. And we love you. We're your friends," They hissed gently. It was like having a snake hiss in your ear about how they're going to kill you. But they said it so sweetly, so softly, that you forgot that your life was about end in seconds. Sometimes, Randy could forget how deadly the voices could be. They lured him in, and surrounded him.
"Stop," Randy murmured to himself, to the voices, as the officers jerked him from his seat and lead him to the bus waiting outside to take him to the asylum.
"Don't tell us what to do, crazy bastard," The officer growled at Randy, and jabbed him in the ribs.
Randy winced then growled, trying to punch the fucker in the face. But his cuffs prevented it. This made the officers laugh, which in turn made the voices grow in size and volume.
"You're pathetic. You let him touch you like that. Pathetic, worthless, nothing..." They whispered to Randy. He shook his head.
"Make it stop! Make it fucking stop!" He screamed as the officers strapped Randy's hands to the seat so he couldn't scratch himself anymore. But the pain made everything quiet.
Made it so so quiet... Randy liked quiet.
Randy looked up into the eyes of the officer. "Make them stop..." He pleaded in a whisper.
The officer looked down at Randy then looked away. Looking into the eyes of the criminally insane was the most scariest thing in the world. They looked at you like they knew everything, yet nothing at all. It seemed that the crazy... knew more than the supposedly sane.
They'll stop eventually... Randy thought to himself. It was a false reassurance.
Randy looked out the window as the bus moved. The city rushed past him in streaks and blurs. He pulled against his restraints, the metal scratching his wrists. Randy rested his head against the window, and saw dark shadows creep out of the trees. They smiled at him.
"They're not real," A voice whispered to him.
"None of you are real," Randy scoffed quietly, getting a headache.
"Real enough for you." It murmured.
Randy sighed and closed his eyes, trying to rest. It was a long ride to his awaiting hell.
Bruised, ill and cold. Clothes ripped off. Examined like a pet. Slamming doors and screams echoed in his ears. His eyes were ice cold and his lips were dry. Randy felt like a caged animal.
He felt goose bumps up his tattooed arms. After taking off the shackles, and tearing off his clothes, they shoved him into a shower to clean him off before they dressed him and put him in his room. Honestly, Randy was surprised they had any type of health code in this place. Randy wrapped his arms tight around himself, cold water running over his body as two male nurses cleaned him.
Randy was a private man but there was nothing he could do right now. He winced, the brushes they were using scratching his skin, leaving red marks. Randy was tired, and knew what would happen if he bashed the nurses' face in. He also knew that they would never let Randy shower alone, for the doctors probably feared Randy would try to harm himself. This place gave him chills. And he had a pretty good idea of what they did to misbehaving patients here. The screams told him.
He hissed lowly when they touched his modesty. Probably on purpose, just to spook the larger man. They pushed him out of the shower, hastily drying him off putting him into clothes that barely kept him warm. It was a thin, long sleaved shirt and long pants. But they looked tattered. At lease they didn't have blood stains on them.
The nurses led him to his new room. Randy was a big man, even though he felt 3 feet tall with the way the doctors and nurses looked at him. Disgust from the doctors. Pity from the nurses. Randy didn't meet any patients yet. And for that, Randy was thankful.
They nudged him into the tiny room. It felt more like a cell than anything, because of the bars on the windows which let in nearly no light. There was no candels, let alone a lamp. There was nothing sharp, and nothing that could be used for self harm. The room itself was much too small. Especially for a man Randy's size. The room was an estimated 9 x 7ft. There was a bed in the corner which also looked too small for Randy. It was smaller than a twin. There was a dresser with Randy's other clothes inside.
Nothing more, nothing less, Randy thought.
Randy was claustrophobic and knew this place would just make the voices in his head get louder.
The nurses left silently and soon Randy was alone. It began to rain, and Randy bit his lip, looking around. He sat on the bed, which squeaked loudly. He pulled the thin blanket over his waist and leaned against the wall, looking out the window at the raindrops.
"The window's crying," They whispered.
Randy frowned slightly and stared at the raindrops, putting his hand on the glass. It was cold. And Randy just realized that there was no heat in this room. He looked at all the rain drops. He watched how some split apart and created new ones. And how some raced down the glass, only to become tangled with another, so that they became forever one. Until they split apart again.
And then, Randy thought of raindrops like love. Something Randy had wanted, but never got.
"Love." The voices scoffed. "You're pathetic. Who would love you?"
Randy let his hand fall from the window and into his lap. He clenched his jaw and laid down, pulling up his knees and curling up since he was too tall for the bed. The blanket did nothing to keep him warm but nonetheless, he pulled it tight around his shoulders.
"Good night."
"Have sweet dreams."
"We know we will."
The voices quieted for the night, but Randy didn't sleep. He listened to the rain pelt against the window, and wished for a release that would never come. Being okay would never, ever come.
Ohh, what a sad first chapter. I'm not sure if this is my best but I definitely tried, haha. Like I said, this fic is gonna be sorta creepy and it will get twisted. Prepare for some crazy shit- no pun intended. LOL.
Font in italics that are dialogue are the voices in Randy's head, btw. Or Johnny's.
Any questions, PM me, or...
REVIIIEWWW! Or you'll never get to meet our crazy Johnny. c;