Plead Insanity
Chapter 1: Caged Animals
Every single noise made Matthew jump as he sat in his holding cell, awaiting transportation. The only thing keeping his mind off his current situation was the way he gently rocked himself back and forth. His hands were rickety and the inside of his nails were thick with dirt. Normally he could find a bright side to any circumstance but this one had none what so ever. There was nothing bright about this.
Your best hope is to plead insanity.
Insanity. The word almost made him laugh. According to a judge and jury; he was branded insane and was awaiting transportation to Pentkuck Institution. Matthew didn't argue with his lawyer proposition. If insanity was his best hope then hope was already lost.
Cradling his head in his hands he tried desperately to keep out the noises. A bang of a cell door, a cry of a fellow inmate, the jingle of a guards keys, the voices. All of the noises echoed loudly in his ears. He felt like sticking his fingers so deep into his ears that he pierced his brain. Over and over the noises droned on, it was enough to make anyone go crazy.
"Matthew Williams?"
The cell holding him opened and three guards spilled inside his cell, to tightly chain him. Matthew felt like an animal, then again he deserved it.
I am an animal. I am an animal. I am an animal.
He told himself that over and over again as the guards pretty much carried him out into a van. As they exited the courts a few reporters crowded round to see the chained animal. Bright camera lights made him disorientated, loud voices boomed in his ears, and someone even spat on him. Matthew almost found it ironic. For most of his life he was ignored, now he was the centre of hate-fused attention.
I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this.
Just as the guards were pushing him into the back of the police van Matthew spotted him. Immediately Matthew felt a pang. A figure stood far from the rest of the crowd but still within eye sight of him. Matthew never meant for the figure to be there, the figure which looked so much like him. He so desperately didn't want his own brother to see them hauling him away for life. He told Alfred to stay away countless of times but his brother kept on coming back.
His brother was shaking and trying desperately to hold back the chocking sobs begging for release. Matthew wanted to sob, but he couldn't. He shouldn't be allowed to cry not after the thing he had committed. Crying was only for human beings, and human beings didn't do what he did.
I am an animal. I am an animal. I am an animal.
With one final glance at his brother, Matthew mentally said goodbye to his life.
The van doors loudly slammed behind him. Only one guard was stationed to be with him in the back of the van. The officer was grey and heavy bags outlined the bottom of his eyes. Even so he kept his sharp eyes on Matthew, his hand always positioned to the gun by his belt. Matthew didn't look at the officer for too long as shame quickly filled him, instead kept his gaze on his shackled feet.
The officers never bothered to put the seat belt on Matthew so as the van rolled down the road every bump made Matthew jolt into the air and hit his head. At one point his glasses were sent flying from his face and right in front of the officer. Instead of picking them up and handing them back to Matthew, the officer pretended not to see them and instead crushed the glasses under his feet.
"Opps," mumbled the officer, picking up the broken pieces. "Looks like we'll have to get you a new set."
Laughter bubbled inside the officer and infected the other two officers sitting in the front of the van. All three of them laughed as Matthew was handed back what was left of his glasses.
I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this.
Matthew rested the back of his head on the side of the van, his eyes closed in an attempt to forget this current nightmare.
"Do I take a left or right on King Street?" asked the driving officer.
"A right, then Pentkuck is right up Second Street," replied the officer with Matthew.
"Got it, boss."
The van sped up slightly causing Matthew to once again slam his head on the van. He tightened his fists along the shattered glasses. Sharp pain shot along his hands as something dug inside his palm. Matthew was beyond caring. The pain almost felt good, it gave him a strange sense of reassurance. He was still alive, still there. He wasn't invisible; something which he had almost believed for his entire life.
The van eventually came to a halt and the two officers stationed at the front of the van strolled towards the back. They yanked opened the doors and grabbed Matthew by his upper arms. They dragged him out of the van.
Matthew was almost stunned by the view which caressed his blurry vision. He imagined Pentkuck to look run down with vines running up the brick work, overgrown weeds in the gardens, and a few boarded up windows from berserk inmates. He imagined something straight from a horror movie.
What he never imagined was Pentkuck looking almost like a resort. The building was like a mansion, littered outside were pots of blooming flowers, the building looked almost new and seemed to fit a billionaire; not the criminal insane.
The officers handed Matthew over to two men and a woman - all dressed in crisp white. The woman even offered him a wheelchair, he declined the offer. The men never said anything but Matthew didn't feel any hostility from them - unlike the officers who were preparing themselves to return to the van.
The woman gestured for Matthew to follow her inside the building. Matthew nodded his head slowly and allowed the woman to take the led. The two men stood behind Matthew, walking a few paces slower than his own.
The inside of the building looked just as fresh as the outside. The walls were painted a very light brown, the floor was shiny and cleaning products created an almost sickening aroma. There was even a cat roaming along the hallways. A few of the inmates were following the cat, trying to tempt it with treats.
"That's Millie," said the woman. "She's helped a lot of the inmates here. Many of the inmates sign up to take care of her." She looked back at Matthew. "Would you like to be part of that?"
Matthew looked at the grey tabby cat as she cleaned her paw. The cat felt Matthew's gaze on her and lifted her head up. Matthew found it almost ironic that a cat had more freedom than him.
"Sure," mumbled Matthew to the woman.
"Great," the woman smiled and wrote something down on her chart.
The four of them stopped at a small medical room. The two men undid the locks around Matthew's ankles and wrist. On the bed were grey cotton clothes which the woman picked up and handed to Matthew.
"Your physiatrist will be here shortly, so you'll just have to wait here and get changed," the woman gave one last smile to Matthew before leaving the room along with one of the men.
The other man sat down on a small plastic chair by the bed and gestured to a door within the room.
"It's a bathroom, you can get changed in there," was all he muttered.
Matthew hurried into the tiny bathroom and stripped out of the blue jumpsuit given to him by his previous jailers. He pulled on the soft grey clothes and little white booties before exiting the bathroom.
The man still sat on the plastic chair reading a magazine. Since the only other seat was by a desk Matthew, asumed that was for the physcaitrist, hoisted himself up on the bed to sit. For five minutes he sat looking around the bare room. Every once in a while he'd turn his head to look out the open door at one of the inmates. A group of them were fixated on giving the cat treats but she never gave into their offers. Others would just idly past by to get to another place in the building. Then there were the few which made Matthew's blood run cold.
Some screamed out their lungs and clawed at their own faces until someone came and restrained them. Matthew feared the fact that he now shared a home with such people.
Eventually the physiatrist came and closed over the door just as someone was sedating a man who was trying to bite off his own feet. The man dubbed as Matthew's physiatrist was a short man with choppy blond hair cut into a bob which reached his chin. The man barely glanced at Matthew as he speedily strolled to the wheeled chair by the desk.
"Hello, I am Dr. Zwingli," he quickly muttered, typing something into the computer. He pushed the chair closer to Matthew and pulled a pen light from his pocket. "I'll do this as quickly as I can Mr. Williams." He flashed the light quickly in Matthew's eyes.
Dr. Zwingli wheeled the chair back to the desk before having his fingers fly across the keyboard. "I've read over your medical file and while you're here your dosage for amisulpride will be made higher."
Matthew's head perked up. "But the tremors and-"
Dr. Zwingli gave Matthew a sharp look which made him look back down at his feet. He knew eventually his medication would be set up to a higher dosage but he had hoped to prolong such invenibility.
Zwingli stopped typing on the computer and picked up the chart he brought in with him. "Keith here will make sure you take the correct dosage every day," he gestured to the sitting man. "Any other questions?"
Matthew shook his head and the doctor stood up from the seat. "Good," he said, tucking the chart under his arm. "Keith, show Mr. William's around then take him to room..." the doctor looked down at his chart and made a face." Three-seven."
"The one with Mr. Machado?" Keith also pulled a face. "Good luck Mr. Williams."
Dr. Zwingli gave a nod to the two men before quickly exiting the medical room.
Keith stood up and walked towards the door while Matthew jumped off the bed to follow him. Keith showed him the few common rooms Pentkuck had. Although only a few inmates were actually in them. Those that were sat idly on the plump couches allowing themselves to indulge in some form of comfort. Few played board games on the floor while lying on their bellies. One of the common rooms had a television in it; a crowd was gathered to view whatever was on.
Despite the lush furniture a chill always sat on Matthew's spine. Many of the inmates were twitchy, some sat in corners rocking to and fro, a seldom few tried to mutilate themselves by any means. At one point Keith had to leave Matthew in the middle of a hallway to try and roughly stop one man from beating his head against a wall.
"Sorry about that," Keith said, returning to where he had left Matthew. "Old Man Richey does that a lot."
Matthew didn't say anything just merely nodded.
"You'll get use to this place eventually," Keith murmured as they walked up a flight of stairs.
Matthew mumbled a reply which didn't seem to reach Keith's ears.
The stairs took them up to the inmates' rooms. Matthew's room was in Ward F. A lot of the room doors were wide open and mostly vacant but some held other inmates. It was passing those rooms that true fear set itself in Matthew's gut. The inmates that were still in their rooms seemed even crazier than the ones Matthew had first encountered. Two men alone in their room were whispering to each other. Just as they were passing by the room one of them brought out a knife and carved it into the other mans flesh. However, he never cried out, in fact that second man seemed to enjoy the shiny blade slicing across his skin. A moan of ecstasy even escaped his mouth.
Matthew walked quicker beside Keith as they passed by more rooms. To the left of Matthew he saw another man alone in his cell clawing at the walls and meowing like a kitten. The man even licked at the walls as he purred.
Many of the members of staff were man handling a few of inmates which almost shocked Matthew. However, it never got too rough to warrant true surprise from Matthew. Most of these people seemed violent so it was only natural that the nurses would have to take slightly more drastic measures.
A few doors down, another man sat on his bed with his trousers by his ankles violently tugging at his member, there even seemed to be small trickles of blood seeping from between his fingers. The man caught Matthew's eyes on him and smiled a toothless grin. What little food was in Matthew's stomach made a threat of resurfacing. Another room not far from the violent masturbator had its door shut but inside someone was screaming like a banshee.
"Fuck you! Fuck you!" someone screamed.
Keith banged on the door. "Mr. Smith, if you don't stop I'm going to have you sedated and sent to isolation for the day," the authority in Keith's voice was frightening.
The door opened and out stood a lanky looking man with rusty teeth. "Oh, I'm sorry Keith," he said with fake earnest. "Hey how's your mother?"
Keith's hand twitched.
"I heard she took a fall the other day." the inmate crossed his arms and leaned on the door frame. "You know I keep picturing that fall. Her tumbling down the steps, laying there all unconscious," Mr. Smiths voice almost had a strange dream like tone in it. There was a creepy build up in his voice too which give Matthew the impression that he was about to do something dangerous. "Over and over I keep picturing your little mama laying there. And every time I do I just end up with this great big stiffy!" Mr. Smith leaned back and grabbed his crotch. "Woulda been a great time to have her from behind then."
Keith snapped and grabbed Mr. Smiths arms behind him then pinned him up against the cell wall.
"Ohh, not to rough Keith," Mr. Smith said through manic laughter. "You know I'm a delicate little flower."
Keith pulled out a needle and jabbed it into Mr. Smith's arm. Within second Mr. Smith slid along the wall and lost the strength to keep his eyes open. Panting Keith ran a hand through his hair and spoke into a walkie talkie strapped to his shoulder.
"Inmate Three-sixty has been sedated, can someone come up here and take him to isolation."
Keith went back to Matthew who could merely stand sweating with his mouth slightly agape. Keith never said a word and almost shoved Matthew towards his room.
All of the inmates in their rooms acted like animal at a zoo. Just showing off as someone walked by. Matthew didn't want to be put along side these apes as they made a ruckus but it was his punishment for committing such an animalistic act himself.
I am an animal. I am an animal. I am an animal.
The two stopped at Matthew's new home. He opened up the cell door and found a tanned man pulling himself up on a bar a cigar stuck into the edge of his mouth filling the room which tobacco smelling smoke.
"Mr. Machado what have I told you about smoking?"
The dark man dropped from the bar and turned to face them. Matthew gulped at the size of the thick man.
Mr. Machado let the smoke from the cigar enter his mouth before blowing it in Keith's face.
"Don't irritate me today Carlos," said Keith, grabbing the cigar and stomping it out on the floor. "I've all ready had to sedate Smith; don't make me-"
"Shit," interrupted Carlos. "Is that why he's suddenly gone quiet? Thank god for that." Carlos' eyes turned to Matthew, he folded his arms and looked him up and down. "Who's this?"
"This is Matthew Williams, Mr. Williams this is Carlos Machado," Keith introduced.
Matthew almost extended his hand out as a formal greeting but then quickly remembered he wasn't human any more and left his hand by his side. Any form of proper human interaction he once took would now be banned. He didn't want to allow himself to partake in the human acts he once did. He didn't deserve such a luxury.
I deserve this! I deserve this! I deserve this!
"Matthew, uh?"
Matthew nodded towards Carlos who stood back allow Matthew entrance to his new room.
"Good now I can get back to work," said Keith, more than a little irritated. "I'll see you at super time Matthew for your night time dosage."
With those final words Keith left.
Carlos pointed to the empty bed on the left of the room. Actually the whole of his left side was bare, only white brick walls surrounded. While the right side occupied by Carlos was adorned with family photos, little ornaments, and a box of cigars lay open on his pillow.
"Want one?" offered Carlos, holding out the box to Matthew.
"No thank you," Matthew quietly said.
Carlos shrugged. "Suit yourself," he said, sticking a thick brown cigar in his mouth and sparking up a match to ignite the end.
Blowing out some smoke Carlos heaved himself back onto the bar and began to pull himself up and down once again. He never spoke to Matthew, which Matthew was actually grateful for. He lay on the bed and stared at the wall, if he wanted to then that moment would have been a perfect opportunity to cry himself to sleep. However, crying was something humans did and he was far from human.
I am an animal. I am an animal. I am an animal.
I deserve this. I deserve this. I deserve this.
AN: After about a seven month absent I have returned!
For those of you who follow my other fics they won't be updated for a while as my other laptop - which has all the files - is currently in the shop.
This fic is actually thanks to my younger sister who kept yelling prompts at me last year. Most of them were just for fun and I never wrote any of them down. However, this one always stuck out to me and I really wanted to do something a lot darker than my other fics - even thought Apart is pretty dark itself.
I hope you have enjoyed this new fic of mine as I had a joy writing it.
Thank you from the bottom of my heart for reading/reviewing.