I liked to hurt them. I dont know why i just did. Its like asking
somebody why they like their favorite colour. They just do. My mother
never knew what i did. She just knew her friends kept dying. The last
person i killed was her. I realised then that her death was the thing i
really wanted. Every woman reminded me of her. I decided while washing
off her blood that i would put myself in the asylum
As soon as i signed the papers, they threw me in the basement room. The "therapy" they gave me was horrible. They leaft me in ice water for hours at a time. They even burned me for fun. When i was given drugs to "help" me (actually, they were testing them on the patients) I began to hallucinate. I saw demons trying to pull me down to hell. the other patients screaming only aided this illusion.
I ended up clawing at the walls, trying to reach my small window, my only source of natural light To me, it was the way out. The orderlies didnt even try to stop the blood, they simply put me into a straightjacket. If i spoke, it ws tightened, if i snored, it was tightened, and sometimes they just tightened it for fun.
There was, however, one orderly who treated me well. Her name was Genevieve. She was the one who used to feed me, and she even washed me when the others would leave me sitting in my own filth for days. Gen would even sneak me sweets, and loosen the straightjacket some. With the way my muscles had atrophied, and my limbs twisted by the time she got there, there was no way i could overpower he4r. She is the only person I could talk to.
She suggested that i should chew through the material and free myself. Then i could get out. Had i been strong enough, i could have ripped the material after chewing it a little, but she underestemated my weakness. they put the cage on me the next day.
About a week later, i told her why i hurt those women. It wasnt because they were prostitutes, like the papers claimed. They all made fun of me. They hated the way that i looked. The scum of the earth, telling me to change. They were rotting and thought that they were better than me. Gen told me when the fire sstarts, i should leave my cell, and find a trapdoor under the stairs.
When she set the fire, i knew, because i was the first to smell the smoke. I started screaming wildly until they cae down to shut me up. They opened my door, and smelled the smoke too. I ran from them, and they leaft me there to die. Gen came down soon after, and led me to the trapdoor. I asked her why she was doing such a thing, and she told me she loved me.
Under the trapdoor, there was a flight of stairs. She took off the straightjacket, and slowly helped me down the passage. The stairs soon led to a tunnel. The sewer system.
By this time, i was in complete agony. My arms were trying to stay twisted, and at the same time, go back to normal. Gen sat me down and helped by rubbing my arms, bringing back the circulation. She made sure taht my arms slowly went down. My arms slowly went down. My arms looked horrible from all the beatings, and she couldnt get my elbows to move.
She made me keep walking then, so we could get the cage off. Gen had some keys hidden down there, on a ladder, and she unlocked the cage carfully, so she would not hurt me. She told me that she had set up the dead body of a patient above my room, so when the cieling collapsed, so would the body, and it would appear to be mine.
I didnt have the strength to climb the ladder out of the sewers. She told me to just use my legs, and she would climb up behind me, holding me to the ladder.
What was she thinking? Hadnt i told her that i killed those women for making fun of me? I lunged forward, biting her right shoulder hard enough to make it bleed.
Gen then did the same to me, drinking my blood as she did so. When i asked her why, she simply told me that drinking a persons blood binds you to that person forever. I moved her hair and drank some of her blood, then let her help me up the ladder, and to my new life.
Genevieve brought me to her apartment, where she undressed me, and put me into a nice hot bath. It was the first time i had been really clean since going to the asylum. Even though she had helped keep me cleaner than i would have been, she couldnt take off the straightjacket withought losing her job.
While i was elaxing in the tub, Gen tried to help my arms. My shoulders hurt like a bitch, but my elbows wouldnt even go straight anymore, l8ike i said before. She had to force my arms to bend a little more, and they only straightened out a little. Gen apologised for hurting me, and gently kissed my lips. it was the first time anybody had even done that. Not only that but i lost my virginity that night as well.
Gen ended up pregnant a few weeks later, and as soon as we got my arms working properly, we were married in Italy, since nobody had heard of me there. besides, i had taken the identity of the dead man, who so kindly took my place in the fire.
Gen told me to write down my story for others to know. She thought taht maybe it could help someone. Im not sure, but i couldnt think of a reason not to.
Sincerly, Ryan Que
As soon as i signed the papers, they threw me in the basement room. The "therapy" they gave me was horrible. They leaft me in ice water for hours at a time. They even burned me for fun. When i was given drugs to "help" me (actually, they were testing them on the patients) I began to hallucinate. I saw demons trying to pull me down to hell. the other patients screaming only aided this illusion.
I ended up clawing at the walls, trying to reach my small window, my only source of natural light To me, it was the way out. The orderlies didnt even try to stop the blood, they simply put me into a straightjacket. If i spoke, it ws tightened, if i snored, it was tightened, and sometimes they just tightened it for fun.
There was, however, one orderly who treated me well. Her name was Genevieve. She was the one who used to feed me, and she even washed me when the others would leave me sitting in my own filth for days. Gen would even sneak me sweets, and loosen the straightjacket some. With the way my muscles had atrophied, and my limbs twisted by the time she got there, there was no way i could overpower he4r. She is the only person I could talk to.
She suggested that i should chew through the material and free myself. Then i could get out. Had i been strong enough, i could have ripped the material after chewing it a little, but she underestemated my weakness. they put the cage on me the next day.
About a week later, i told her why i hurt those women. It wasnt because they were prostitutes, like the papers claimed. They all made fun of me. They hated the way that i looked. The scum of the earth, telling me to change. They were rotting and thought that they were better than me. Gen told me when the fire sstarts, i should leave my cell, and find a trapdoor under the stairs.
When she set the fire, i knew, because i was the first to smell the smoke. I started screaming wildly until they cae down to shut me up. They opened my door, and smelled the smoke too. I ran from them, and they leaft me there to die. Gen came down soon after, and led me to the trapdoor. I asked her why she was doing such a thing, and she told me she loved me.
Under the trapdoor, there was a flight of stairs. She took off the straightjacket, and slowly helped me down the passage. The stairs soon led to a tunnel. The sewer system.
By this time, i was in complete agony. My arms were trying to stay twisted, and at the same time, go back to normal. Gen sat me down and helped by rubbing my arms, bringing back the circulation. She made sure taht my arms slowly went down. My arms slowly went down. My arms looked horrible from all the beatings, and she couldnt get my elbows to move.
She made me keep walking then, so we could get the cage off. Gen had some keys hidden down there, on a ladder, and she unlocked the cage carfully, so she would not hurt me. She told me that she had set up the dead body of a patient above my room, so when the cieling collapsed, so would the body, and it would appear to be mine.
I didnt have the strength to climb the ladder out of the sewers. She told me to just use my legs, and she would climb up behind me, holding me to the ladder.
What was she thinking? Hadnt i told her that i killed those women for making fun of me? I lunged forward, biting her right shoulder hard enough to make it bleed.
Gen then did the same to me, drinking my blood as she did so. When i asked her why, she simply told me that drinking a persons blood binds you to that person forever. I moved her hair and drank some of her blood, then let her help me up the ladder, and to my new life.
Genevieve brought me to her apartment, where she undressed me, and put me into a nice hot bath. It was the first time i had been really clean since going to the asylum. Even though she had helped keep me cleaner than i would have been, she couldnt take off the straightjacket withought losing her job.
While i was elaxing in the tub, Gen tried to help my arms. My shoulders hurt like a bitch, but my elbows wouldnt even go straight anymore, l8ike i said before. She had to force my arms to bend a little more, and they only straightened out a little. Gen apologised for hurting me, and gently kissed my lips. it was the first time anybody had even done that. Not only that but i lost my virginity that night as well.
Gen ended up pregnant a few weeks later, and as soon as we got my arms working properly, we were married in Italy, since nobody had heard of me there. besides, i had taken the identity of the dead man, who so kindly took my place in the fire.
Gen told me to write down my story for others to know. She thought taht maybe it could help someone. Im not sure, but i couldnt think of a reason not to.
Sincerly, Ryan Que