Chapter 1: The First Day

"You must be Ciel."

I'll admit, when I first walked in here I didn't think I'd be greeted by him; at least, not as he looked now. A nurse's cap sat atop Grell's head and he was clothed in a white, collared, button-up shirt and a skirt. They were the last things on my mind. I'd been fitted with an identical nurse's cap and collared button-up shirt, but I'd exchanged the skirt for a pair of white knee-length shorts. I completely ignored the fact that he was wearing a pair of white heeled shoes. If he wanted to pass for a woman, who was I to stop him. There was only one thing I was concerned about at the moment; my assignment.

I was the newest nurse on-staff. Never mind my small size, asthma issues, and the fact I'm only fifteen years old; I needed to do something with my life, and when a position opened here at the London Mental Hospital for the Insane and Supernatural, I couldn't pass it up. I was told shortly after receiving my full uniform that I was going to be assigned a patient to study and attempt to cure them. Who am I kidding? Heck, I can't even cure myself whenever I catch a cold! How was I ever going to be able to cure a supernatural patient of an asylum of a mental illness?

Either way, there was no going back, now, and I was ready to go through whatever Hell this job was going to take me through. I'd been bracing myself day and night for a while for whatever was about to be thrown at me. An angel suffering from an extreme case of schizophrenia? A Grim Reaper with Agoraphobia? A demon with an extreme case of Intermittent Explosive Disorder? The possibilities were infinite!

The day started out relatively simple. Grell showed me around the first floor; the break room and restrooms to name a few less important places. A nurse with short, platinum blond hair and bright blue eyes was talking with a doctor with long, shaggy grey hair and overgrown fingernails, and a psychiatrist with short, dark brown hair sat alone at a table, reading over his clipboard and was sipping a cup of hot tea. I was introduced to all of them; Nurse Alois Trancy, Dr. Undertaker, and Dr. William T. Spears.

I was led into an elevator that took me to the floor my assigned patient was on. As of now, I didn't know much about him; if it was even a "him". All I knew was the number; Patient 666.

The elevator travelled all the way up to the sixth floor—the top floor—of the building. When the doors opened up, we were greeted by another set of doors. These were cage-like, painted white, and very heavily locked. In the world beyond that door sat the world of the insane. From where I was standing from inside the elevator, the patients that I could see looked as though they ran the place; crowding the hallways and going in and out of rooms. Some huddled in groups and were whispering inaudible gibberish to each other, others stalked up and down the hallways as they scratched their heads and observed each other like another living being like them was a freak of nature. It was fascinating.

Grell unlocked the door and we entered into their territory. I jumped as the doors slammed shut with a loud bang! Getting out of this place now took the key Grell held firmly in his hand.

"Don't worry about these patients," he said, "They're not the ones you need to be concerned about."

It wasn't until we were going down a hallway that had three locked doors at the end of it that I became truly concerned. I could hear patients shouting things that couldn't even be described as words. There was no one roaming the hallways, only the vibrations that were caused by the infernal banging sound of patients throwing themselves against the doors.

"I would advise you to stay on the center line," Grell continued, "Some of these patients can get a little violent, even with their cell doors closed."

I noticed a red line that went straight through the middle of the hall. It made sense. All I had to do was walk on the red line and I was out of arm's reach of the patients.

Each door had a small window to look inside, and so whoever was inside could look out. As we passed a cell labeled 661, a loud bang was heard as something collided with the inside of the door. A woman with lavender hair and dark skin attempted to throw herself out of her cell; snarling and gnashing her teeth, like some rapid animal. Thank goodness she was in a straightjacket, or she probably would have torn the door off its hinges.

Grell casually walked over to the cell; unfazed by Patient 661's erratic behavior. He slid open a small door that was attached to the center of it and peered in at the crazed woman.

"Sorry, Hannah. I haven't come to let you out yet."

The patient, Hannah, let out an enraged shriek and proceeded banging on the door as Grell walked away.

"What's wrong with her?" I asked.

"She's been diagnosed with rabies-level aggression and Soul Separation."

"What's Soul Separation?"

"It happens when a supernatural being—a demon, in Hannah's case—is forced to consume a soul they've become emotionally attached to. It makes them defiant and depressed, but the aggression takes that to all kinds of levels," Grell looked back at me as I trailed behind him, "I should warn you that these patients have torn through straightjackets before."

I hoped and prayed that my assigned patient wouldn't be anything like that. The last thing I wanted to deal with was a crazy trying to bash me into a wall. I couldn't care less if they were drugged half of the time to the point where I couldn't interact with them; so long as they didn't get out of hand, the other doctors and nurses could do what they damn well pleased with them.

"As you know by now, you will be studying Patient 666," Grell said, stopping beside a door and taking the clipboard that was beside it, "You'll assist me with him today, but after that," he passed the clipboard to me, "You're on your own. Got it?"

I nodded and looked at the information on the clipboard.

Patient #666: Sebastian Michaelis

Type: Demon

Gender: Male

Height: 6'1"

Weight: 175lbs

Diagnosis: Stage 4 Soul Insanity (Suffering Soul Syndrome)

Status: Under Close Observation/ Receiving Treatment

Even I knew a thing or two about Suffering Soul Syndrome. If he was in Stage 5, he'd be considered an incurable case. It was no wonder the mental hospital was looking for help so desperately; though I did wonder why a different nurse, one with more experience, hadn't been chosen for this job. With Patient 666 in already in Stage 4 of this mental illness, this was definitely going to be a challenge for me.

Grell took the key to the cell and unlocked it. The metal door clattered open and we stepped in.

"Good morning, Sebastian," Grell greeted in a cheery tone, "I have someone with me that I'd like you to meet."