Society is like a basket of fruits. There could be hundreds of kinds of fruits, such as bananas, pineapples, and grapes. Although each of them seems exactly the same, in many ways, they are different from each other. For example, a banana can be yellow or green. Grapes range from different sizes. An apple can either taste sour or sweet.
Society enjoys picking the most perfect fruits. From the eyes of society, your flavor did not matter. What matter the most is your physical appearance. A perfect fruit does not have bruises and is in perfect shape.
Sadly, not all fruits are perfect. Some of them are deformed and twisted in unusual shapes. Their surface is coated with many bruises. Society is a bit careful when it comes to picking these fruits. If it was kind and brave enough, society will choose the deformed ones. However, for the bruised fruits, society would simply leave them in the basket. As time passes, these fruits slowly rot away.
Though, some rotting fruits were not bruised to begin with. They were picked as perfect fruits with a potential to be delicious. However, some were picked by the wrong hand. The hand could put it in rotten situations, such as dropping it too many times, leaving it outside for too long, or giving it to an authoritative mouth, which disapproved the fruit's taste. Like the bruised fruits, they were thrown away in the trash without a bat of an eye.
In the middle of a bay was an insane asylum. It was society's trash can. People who were considered to be mentally unstable were tossed into this horrendous building, never to see the light of society again. It was literally a place for an unstable person to live out his or her life until he or she finally stops breathing.
Now, you might ask, why didn't these people get any treatment? These people were moldy, rotting, bruised fruits. They could never go back to what they were, no matter how hard they wished and tried. Being picky and cautious, society viewed these people as a threat. Whenever one person began to show signs of rotting, he or she was immediately thrown into the asylum, never to be seen again.
The insane asylum was a terrible place. Each locked, barred cell held a crazed person. He or she would violently grab a hold on the bars and rattle and bang on it, screaming hysterically. Some would just lie at the corner and miserably look out the barred windows, wishing for the freedom they once had. Others would just look at the walls and strangely picture something. Boredom was one of the many obstacles they had to overcome.
All of them were desperate for something to happen. The only thing they could do was use their imagination. They dreamt fleeing the insane asylum and returning to their families and friends, even if it cost their lives. Yet, they know it was simply a dream that would never happen. The lid was sealed shut with super glue. Due to this, they made no attempt to break out of their cages.
Except for one.
Sealed away in a lonely jail cell, was a psychopath known as the Masked Slasher, who was considered to be so mentally unstable, he was constantly in a straitjacket, which was attached to a cold, iron chair. His cramped, square cell was padded with white, not allowing a single sound to enter the room. The sunlight that lit his dull, lonely
His past was a very violent one indeed. Starting from a young age, he viciously murdered several people, which caused panic throughout the nation. Luckily, the police managed to capture him and send him to the asylum. Not wanting to shock the public, the Masked Slasher's identity was never shown to the public.
To the Masked Slasher, every day was like a dream. He would awake from his pitch-black dream and have workers from the asylum hand-feed him. After that, he went back to sleep again. The next time he awoke, he would be led to the bathroom, where he cleansed himself. Then, he was led back to his cell again and fell into a deep, dark sleep.
Unlike most of the mentally unstable held in the asylum, the Masked Slasher believed that it was possible to break out of the asylum, even though he failed several times. Day by day, he waited for the perfect moment, when all of the workers either left or were extremely exhausted.
And that day finally came...
The Masked Slasher awoken from his dream when a worker unlocked the door to his empty cell. While two other workers were freeing him from his straight jacket, in front of him were two guards armed with rifles and guns. The Masked Slasher stayed still and looked ahead. It was time for him to bathe.
As he was led down the hallways, the Masked Slasher could only look ahead. Even if he turned his head around and looked at one of the guards, they would take see as a chance to attack and escape. Breathing quietly, the Masked Slasher blinked and glanced down the hallway, waiting patiently for the perfect time to flee.
Finally, the Masked Slasher arrived in the bathroom. While the guards stood near the exit, patrolling the area, the Masked Slasher stripped away of his fluorescent blue clothing— indications that he was from the insane asylum, and turned on the shower. The sound of water trickling onto the hard ground was an indication that all was fine to the guards.
Or was it?
Noticing that the security's guards were down, the Masked Slasher quietly went to the pile of his discarded clothes and took out a knife. It was an average cooking knife. One could assume that he managed to take it from the kitchen during one of his failed escapes and hid it for gods-know-how-long.
His breathing as silent as the air, the Masked Slasher carefully snuck towards the guards. The only noise he could hear was the running shower behind him and his own heartbeat pumping adrenaline through his prepared body.
Water rolled down his bare body as the Masked Slasher approached one of the guards, who was not paying attention. Leading an infamous serial killer around the asylum was a dull job. To him, nothing tragic could happen to him with a hundred eyes watching the most notorious insane.
Unfortunately, the eyes blinked, missing the brutal event that occurred in seconds. Without warning, the Masked Slasher suddenly grabbed the first guard by the throat. His croaked, strangled cry was a flashing red alarm for his partner, who immediately turned around and backed away in reflex. His shaking hands hastily loaded his pistol and pointed the deadly weapon at the Masked Slasher, who coolly looked back. It was abnormal. A human's natural response to a weapon aimed at them was to flee the treacherous scene.
"Shoot! Shoot!" the first guard begged his partner desperately. "Stop him!"
"Urrrk!" A choked shout echoed down the hallway. A patrolman who was guarding the entrance heard the lifeless choke. His heart beating frantically, he hurriedly took his radio, trying to ignore the alarming, shrill beep screaming at him to run for his life.
"There's something wrong. Check the showers!"
Looking at his victim's bloody body, the Masked Slasher tossed the lifeless corpse onto the ground in front of his startled, petrified partner. Huffing hysterically, the paralyzed partner could only helplessly watch the bloodthirsty killer tauntingly drop his knife onto the blood-strained ground and pick up his departed companion's gun. What should he do?! Should he run and get backup? He might live, but the Masked Slasher might run! Maybe he should shoot the killer instead... Though, the head of the facility might not approve it.
"Die now." A thundering bang boomed down the hallways as the second watchman tumbled onto the ground, sputtering his last breath. Coldly looking at his deceased preys, the Masked Slasher noticed a small card sitting in one of their pockets. Thinking that he had found the key that was searched desperately for years, he went to the still body, picked the card up, and looked at it.
A flock of hurrying footsteps was what broke his attention like glass. Looking behind him for a few quick moments, the Masked Slasher hastily turned and ran down a hallway. At the end of that dark hallway was a locked door with a sigh that read "EXIT" above it. Using the card on the door's secure card look, he hurried into the cold April night. Alarms began to blare stridently, alerting that someone was escaping.
Where should he go? It would be a matter of time before the guards had him surrounded. The Masked Slasher noticed a bridge that led from the asylum to the mainland. Maybe he could hurry down the bridge to the mainland, where he could finally vanish from the asylum! Not wasting a moment, the Masked Slasher hurried down the bridge.
At that moment, two guards in a truck armed with a rifle hurriedly drove down the bridge. "Do you see him?" the guard with the rifle asked, peering around his calm yet treacherous surroundings. The looming, silver moon, which was slowly being covered by clouds, provided little relief for him.
"No, I don't!" the driver answered.
"We can't let him get to the mainland!" the guard responded sternly. "If he does, innocent blood will be shed!"
"BANG!" A swift, rapid bullet suddenly flew through the glass windows, causing the driver to swivel the speeding truck. "Oh shit!"
Standing in front of the truck was the Masked Slasher himself. He was boldly pointing the gun at the truck's tire.
"Stop!" the guard exclaimed, clutching his rifle tightly. "He's right there!"
The first guard immediately stepped on the breaks. However, because the truck was going so fast, it ended sliding across the bridge. The truck struck the Masked Slasher and the side of the bridge at the same time. The two guards heard a cry, the sound of metal breaking, and a splash. Panicked, the two quickly got out of the vehicle and looked down from the bridge. Bubbles of all sizes rushed towards the surface of the bay and popped.
"Do you think he—?" the guard began to ask.
"Yes." the first guard cut off, answering his partner's question. "He died in the impact."
Author's Notes: ...Cliffhanger? *gets hit in face with book*
Well, here's the beginning of the story I announced after finishing "The Surface's Shadow"! This fanfic was hanging around in my mind and as soon as I finished TSS, I had to upload the first chapter as soon as possible. The simile about society and fruits doesn't belong to me. I stole- I mean borrowed it from one of my teachers.
Just a heads up that this story is not going to carefree and happy like my other ones. In a nutshell, it's a serious, depressed version of "More Than It Meets the Eyes". There are triggering moments and violent deaths later in the story, so be careful!
Story Questions:
Society is like a...?
Do you think the Masked Slasher died in the impact? (So creative...)
(Spoiler question): Who do you think is the Masked Slasher?