*la/N -Also known as a Starla note. Which is my first name in case you didn't randomnly go to my profile and read my very sad info. I'm working on a lot of stuff right now and in some ways zombies are very overdone in this day in age but there really aren't that many on fictionpress. I know you know it's mature because it says so, but I need to say that it really is. Some of the things she sees and hear are not... normal or right in the slightest. And sex will be a part of the story, even if...the main characters not actually having it. You'll see what I mean in the future. I've already got a vague outline for the rest of it so at least I know where I'm going. Right now, it might be a little confusing and a little all over the place, but I think it's decent. I hope you enjoy the read! And sorry for the long note... they get on my nerves so I'll probably stick to the end in the future.

Chapter 1: Psycho

Pain. Needles, Blood, Infection...I need to get out of , Death, am I?

White, Blue, Crosses?

"You're going to die. You're all going to die."

Struggle, Injection, Resistance, Fog.

"Coming live from Kansas City... Something's gone wrong with the mental patients at Rainbow Mental Health Facility. We'll keep you updated. To John for the weather." - 4:03 p.m.

"Apparently there were illegal experiments going on with the patients. The staff has conveniently disappeared." -5:00 p.m

"So far 25 dead bodies have been found in the hospital. All have died of mysterious causes. I ask, where did the staff go?" -5:30 p.m

"Autopsy performed on one of the bodies. Something happened but I am not at liberty to say." -7:00 p.m

"John speaking. There is a storm heading our way. The wind... WHAT? Okay. Back to Sarah." -7:30 p.m

"The dead bodies aren't dead bodies! Apparently one of the patients woke up and bit the doctor that was observing. The doctor has a fever. Are we witnessing a new outbreak?" -7:31 p.m

"Sorry to keep ya'll out of the loop. The doctor bitten is now dead. Some sort of new infection. As for the dead who aren't really dead, they are being observed. Something's wrong with them."-11:31 p.m

"No more information from facility. Cops have been called." -1:00 a.m

"John again. Wind speeds picking up. A couple of reports of fallen trees have came in. Be careful." -1:30 a.m

"Sarah, here. There is a reported lockdown on the facility. Three cops were injured inside. Reports from St. Christine's Hospital say that the infection is easily spread. They haven't completely ruled out air yet." -2.00 a.m

"Cops dead. No one knows what's going on. The lockdown at the facility has been lifted. Reports of mental patients wandering are circulating." -4:00 a.m

"Reported seeing supposed dead doctor wandering around with a weird loping walk. What's going on?" -6:00 a.m

"Get out! Grab your kids, family, pets, whatever and get the hell out now! Whatever this infection is, it's changing people into cannibals. Run!" -10:00 a.m

"News Broadcast is shutting down in this event of a zombie apocalypse. We apologize for the inconvenience. We suggest you get on the closest boat or airplane and travel to a far-off island." 1:00 p.m

Location: Two Rivers Psychiatric Hospital

Time: 10:00 a.m

Date: September 11, 2030

I'm going to die. We're all dead. Why are we dead? I struggled to grab a clear thought. Lockdown? What... was going on? Leaving, they'll abandon you. You'll be alone forever. Dead. We're all dead. I opened my eyes. The room was spinning. I shook my head and gasped at the headache. I couldn't see clearly.

"She's awake. Get another round of medication." I wanted to scream 'No!' but it'd be a waste of time. I couldn't... I hissed as a needle slipped into my arm. No. No please. I don't want to die. Why would I die? Goddamnit, I couldn't think! I closed my eyes when the room started to fade.

"Get out! Grab your kids, family, pets, whatever and get the hell out now! Whatever this infection is, it's changing people into cannibals. Run!"

Cannibals... running? Sleepy... No. Stay awake. I heard things crashing around me. I begged myself to not go under, I needed to wake up.

"We can't stay here!"

"What about the patients?"

"They're crazy anyway. Leave them."

Leaving... That sounds lovely. Mmmm... sleep. Begging had never worked before. Why would it work now?

Time: 12:20 a.m

Date:September 12, 2030

I woke up to the sound of silence. There was no beeping monitor, no low volume TV, or even the sound of gossipy nurses. Silence. I didn't move, or open my eyes, just listened. Silence was a rare commodity here. We're all going to die. Flashes of dead people appeared under my eyelids.I frowned and opened my eyes.

Shit... I blinked at the darkness. Why were the lights off? I sat up, extremely disoriented. I lifted my hand and felt around on the bed. Feeling for the edge I scooted over and swung my legs off of the side. I couldn't see, but my head felt fuzzy so I assumed that my dark world was spinning. I closed my eyes again and took a deep breath.

I hadn't been completely awake for two or three days. I hadn't been off the damn medication for about six months. I smiled ruefully. In an hour or two I'd be completely sober. I pushed myself up from off of the side of the bed and stumbled forward. I tried to imagine the small room I had been staying in. There was, maybe an end table to the left? I put my hand out to feel. I snatched my hand back at the feel of a a cold wall.

No end table then. Oh, of course no end table. I might have decided to bang my head against a sharp edge like that girl in room 206. Though now that I thought about it, I could have banged my head endlessly against the wall. Maybe not as effective at first, but in the long run... I shook my head. No point contemplating suicide now. Maybe later.

I reached out for the wall again, shivering slightly at the cold. I slid closer to the wall and walked forward, keeping my steps light. Not being able to remember the outline of the room was a problem. My fingers trailed lightly against the cold wall as I kept moving forward. I froze when I felt something sharp under my foot. I stepped back and bent down to the floor, reaching down in a sweeping motion. My fingers swiped the object and I closed my fingers around it.

Pain entered my senses and I frowned, reaching with my other hand to carefully poke the... owww. Okay. Glass. Why was there glass on the floor? Why was my room dark? They're crazy. Leave them. I took a breath and closed my eyes, perfectly content to watch the movie behind my eyelids. The nurses were running about yelling something about... zombies? I opened my eyes. Zombies. Right. I'm going insane. Wait... already am. Damn.

I sighed and kept my fingers wrapped around the piece of glass. I felt that it kept me grounded. In the present. What that was precisely, I didn't know. No point lingering on the floor while I pondered it, though. I straightened my body up, sort of shaky from my position. Now that I knew there was glass, I was wary to walk forward.

Pity that I didn't have the ability to see in the dark. I reached my arm out to trace the wall and slid my feet carefully across the floor, taking specific care not to lift my feet. When I felt the glass press against my foot, I kept intense pressure down to insure that I would step ON it. No sense in completely shredding my feet. I continued to slide for a bit until I saw that the lights were blinking sparratically except... they weren't. I blinked and sighed.

This vision thing was beginning to become a problem. My literal vision... and my... unliteral vision. I had no real clue if the lights had really came on. I squeezed the piece of glass and sighed when my senses sharpened. I could feel the blood trailing down my wrist and the steady dripping sound was almost loud.

I focused on picturing the lights turning on and saw them flicker on. I looked at the ground, observing the strewn glass and medicine cart tossed over. The door was to my... right. I shifted that way and groaned as it all went away. Fuck. Why wouldn't the lights actually turn on? And what was the fucking point in being crazy if it wasn't the useful kind?

The door had looked like it was about 10 feet away, which in the long run, was really not THAT far. I mean, without accounting for glass, a drugged patient, and no lights, it was quite a laughable distance. So maybe I shouldn't account for anything and skip merrily on the... red brick road. After all, we WERE in Kansas, so there couldn't possibly be a yellow one. And who in the hell orders yellow brick anyhow?

"Help! Someone!" My mouth mimicked the words and I rolled my eyes. Help. Right. People get help in mental institutions. Help contained inside of pills and nice, white rooms. I should've probably felt sorry for whatever hapless soul was yelling outside of the doorway, maybe even called out for my own help. Should've. Didn't. Oh well. I had my own problems.

Besides, the voices in my head were enough without mine adding to the mix. It truly was like different radio stations. Tune into the very pointless past of others, or, if you're feeling a little crazy, why not tell the future? Fuck the present. That's where sane people live.

"Oh dear. Oh dear. What's all of that blood doing there? Oh dear. I didn't mean to. He ran into the knife. Oh you must believe me!"Sucked that the only radio station that came in around here revolved around mental patients.

"Fuck 'em. Fuck them. They didn't want to play with me. So I made them incapable of playing with anyone else!"I didn't allow myself to get sucked into the stories of these people. It was a waste of time and energy. Though some of the images and voices running through my mind were intriguing.

"Like, he put his dick in my face, and I was like, all, Ima bite that thing off!" Dear lord, poor man. It'll never be the same. Decent size too. Hmm. I shuffled my feet a bit and slid forward again. Such a pity that I couldn't fly. Or that the lights weren't on. Or that the nurses couldn't have done their job and cleaned. The main issue was that the lights weren't on.

I felt little pieces of glass poke at my feet but it wasn't like I could just avoid it all together since I had no shoes. And I wasn't going to just sit around and wait for the lights to turn on. Knowing my luck the vision would take place a week from now. Really should put in a request for a date and time at the bottom of the vision. Kinda like a camera. The question was, nikon or -? Never knew much of a difference, although I was leaning towards nikon with Ashton, just because, you know, it's Ashton.

Not that I was ridiculous enough to base my tastes off of a celebrity. Otherwise I'd have boobs a foot aways from me and long ass nails. Dolly Parton, anyone? I mean yeah, she's dead. But everyone knows who she was. Dollywood may have gotten shut down, but her legacy lived on with plastic surgery stories and implants. Maybe not what she was looking for, but at least it was something.

"They told me that I was crazy. I believed them. Then I went out and shot everyone in the bank. I was just living up to their expectations. What else was a girl to do?"Points to that chick. That was a very good way to show off being crazy. I would do the same thing. Well, maybe not. I'd just shoot the person who said it. Little bit more reasonable of me.

Inching forward was just not doing it for me. I might have moved three feet. Go me! I could jump, though there was a chance that I would land on glass, or that I would run into the door. So, I jumped. I mean, why not? A person only lived once, and it's not like I had predicted my own death. It was oddly comforting in a way. I landed easily, and no glass poked into my feet. I hadn't jumped far, regardless, I wasn't a bunny. I barely had any energy as it was, and it's not like my legs were the strongest after all of this time.

What happened to daily runs, walks through the woods, and swimming? Oh, guess it wasn't important for an institution to worry about. I got daily walks through the halls if I was "good" and didn't say anything. Thank God, for no favors. The medication loosened my mouth and I couldn't control talking about the visions. It wasn't really my fault, but the nurses thought differently. So really, I got weekly walks.

Just enough exercise to keep me mobile. I got to walk around my room too, but a nurse was on standby with a needle in case I acted wierd. In case you're curious, using your left foot to start walking counted as wierd. So did standing still for longer then 3 seconds. Apparently there was no point in being out of bed if I wasn't going to make use of my precious time.

How were they to know what was wierd? My definition of acting wierd would be acting out of MY norm, which meant that telling the future, specifically futures of death, were normal, which is the opposite of wierd, meaning I was not wierd when they said I was. So, on this train of thought, they were liars, and I was superior, and normal. Sadly, noone lived on my train of thought.

"I don't want to... oh yes you do. No, I really, really don't. I actually believe you do." Fuck. Me. I didn't want to see memories from someone with split personalities, or whatever that person had. "Yes you do." ...Great. Now memories are arguing with me. Let's step forward. Seeing as my right hand was curled against my chest, I lifted my left to scout out the territory once more. Just air. 1 step. 2 step. 3 step. Are you really counting, 4 step? Door. Yay! First person to the door in her own personal room. You win... where's the handle? Shit.

I slid my hand all over the door looking for the knob. Oh, what is this circular thing? I turned it. Hmm, interesting. Now pull. Lookie there! More darkness. Well, at least I found the circular... door knob. Really gotta stop pretending to be stupid in my own head. Now... let there be light! ...And there was none. Really, what did God have that I didn't?

"Mama told me to pray at night. I did. I asked for Mama to go to heaven. He didn't take my request. So I fulfilled it myself. Can't expect him to do everything, now can we?" Great idea, Lyle. Sadly, I was not an electrician. And I could not glow. Dear lord, little bit of... LIGHT! I grinned. Yay. The halls were a wreck. Beds and carts thrown everywhere, the occasional bit of glass. But it would be okay. Now, onto the shoes. Wherever those might be.

I remembered them taking my items and telling me, "You'll get your stuff back when you're feeling better. Don't worry about it." Instant needle. How was I not supposed to worry when you have something sharp coming at me? And taking my necklace was a low blow. "Now this is just a precaution. We do this for your own safety." Personally, I just wanted the necklace because I thought it looked great with the shitty hospital gown. But NO. They don't allow you to accesorize in institutions such as these.

Well, now what? I glanced at my hand. Oh look! It's bleeding. There's a huge gash. And the glass is so shiny, and smeared. I guessed that I didn't technically need the glass anymore, so I threw in in my room. My nice, white room with... okay. That's a nurse. Is she... "You can do this. Just overdose. Not that difficult. Noone's here. Noone will notice." What the... and I thought I had problems. Poor girl. Thought her life was hell because she took care of crazy people every day. She thought her life was hard? Try reliving the crazy moments in their lives.

So... she's dead. I don't care. Moving on. Now, that sign said waiting room pointing left. Obviously, this meant go right, through the doors that said "Employer's Only." I was an employer. I worked here. Okay, maybe I didn't, but I used to be a good girl who followed the rules and that miniscule little part of me wanted me to not open that door. So for the little girl inside of me, I was an employer. The more prominent person was saying fuck this, I'm a mental patient, and I want to go in that door. So I'm going to.

And so I went. Because I'm a hardcore rule breaker. God, I needed to get out of here. Living in my head did not seem like a good plan. The question was, did I need social interaction? Maybe. But seeing as I was surrounded by Kansas's finest mental killers, with the occasional down on the luck schizo and multiples... didn't really think social interaction was the best plan for me right now. Besides, my last few social encounters, not counting the ones inside of the institution, ended with me saying some not so nice things.

Or so my mother and boyfriend said. What was so wrong about telling your mother she was going to die from a fever, when you're angry at her? And telling your boyfriend that he was going to cheat on you apparently was not in the social etiquette rulebook. Did I break up with him? What was his name? Started with a B. I think. Always started reciting the Dr. Suess B book in my head when I thought of him. That's probably why I kept him around. Reciting the book always made me happy, and that got confused with "special" feelings.

Poor guy. Wonder what he's doing now. Pity that I couldn't really have visions of random people really far away. Then again, I didn't particularly care to find out what my mother or boyfriend were doing right now. Maybe each other. My mother always did have a thing for that younger pool boy. Eww. Ewww. I forgot I had that vision of the two. Sorry dad. While you were out shooting, she was getting shot in.

Walking through those doors, the first thing I saw was a nice resting place. Couches. Filing cabinets. You know. The cool stuff. Sadly, I wasn't here to partake of the lovely comfort offered so I moved on to the door that said "Belongings." Now, typically, I figured this would actually be like a place for the nurses belongings. And half of the room was. There was a very distinct difference between them. The nurses belongings were in open cubby holes unless they had sharp objects. In which case it was put in the locked drawer below it. The patients, on the other hand, were in lockers, with nice little locks on each.

There were names above each one and I scanned for mine. Eski, eski... oh, look! My name. Now, onto the search for a key. Find the key. Find the key. Oh yeah, they'd leave keys for patients to find wouldn't they? I needed a nurse. Preferably a live one, but a dead one would technically do. On the bright side, there were shoes in one of the nurses cubbies. Nice... tall, red heels. Damn me to hell. Glass... or heel. Not a glass heel. Do I look like fucking cinderella? Though technically this could be a dorothy moment.

No place like a mental institution. I sighed, looking in the other cubbies for more suitable shoes. One had to wonder why the heels weren't locked in the drawer seeing as they could be considered a weapon. If I was a murderer, and happened upon then, first train of thought: stab. It was pretty logical, when you thought about it. Obviously most don't think about it. Fairly new-age thinking. I shrugged and turned away from the shoes.

Maybe being a murderer was fun. I had never actually tried it, contrary to popular belief. The power I felt in some of the minds of the people here, after taking a life, was addictive. Morally, it was wrong. But if you could get past that, maybe convince yourself that it was in fact, right, the rush could be a new experience. A new experience that I did not particularly wish to participate in, but it was something to mull over on a rainy day, or when something goes wrong in the mental institution for killers you just so happen to be associated in.

Guilty by association, I guess. It was kinda funny. I decided to just go back barefoot. I didn't really feel any pain from my hand or feet anyhow. Surely later it would be a little more upsetting, probably more painful, but why worry about that? I stopped in front of the door when I saw flashes of different patients wandering the... Holy shit! I'm in an institution with murderers. Murderer's no longer kept inside of there rooms, and no longer on medication. That was enough to make me worry a tad bit. I suppressed the visions, figuring that if I was to meet my maker in that hall, it would have been more important then seeing the county hall murderer bare assed.

Not that the visions came, ranked in importance, though that would be very helpful. I just had this idea that if I was going to envision dying, I would know it was about me. Could be wrong, but no point thinking about it. So, I opened the door and walked back out into the hall. Not my best plan, not really my worst. I wasn't much of a planner. Always went with whatever came to mind first. Might be something wrong with that idea. But I was never wrong, and if I was, I didn't remember it.

You could say that most would freak out if they were sane, and in a mental institution of criminals. I didn't. I'm not gonna say I'm not like most, I like pancakes in the morning just like everyone else, coffee's always a plus, and I even like walking my dog on occasion. My dog! Damn it, my mom probably put her in the pound. Poor thing. Anyways, in most ways, I was like most people. I just saw visions. On the metaphorical scale of things, that really wasn't that bad. Lots of people claimed to be psychic. A few actually were. Or at least I thought they were because I was and someone else had to have the same annoying problem as me.

Looking in the halls of rooms, many doors were still shut. Which was good, if you wanted to stay away from the murderer's. But I knew that some patients had left their rooms. I just didn't know where they were...

"HELP! Please. He took my baby! Please..." I jumped at the sound of a voice behind me and turned. Well isn't this nice. My first interaction with another patient.

"I was careful. I was. I wanted that baby. I did! I didn't know that falling down the stairs would make me bleed everywhere like that. Where's my baby? What did you do with my baby?"I grimaced. The woman didn't even realize that she had miscarried. Attacked the doctor's and nurses at the local hospital, and tried to steal a baby from the nursery. The institution's way of dealing with her fascination of baby's, was to give her a baby doll. And it would seem, that she had lost it.

Typically, this would be the part where I say that she lived up to the expectations of a mental patient and looked like The Grudge. Really old horror film. Classic. Dumb as shit. But a classic. Instead, she was wearing a normal sundress, apparently being able to wear nicer clothing then me because she only lived here 3 days a week and got to leave to go to a different place the rest of the time. Something about one place becoming too much for her. Always reminded her of the baby. Mental institution reminded her of her baby. Somehow I think that this is wrong in a way.

Her hair was not ratty, or black for that matter. She had blonde hair and really was quite attractive, even when she was balling her eyes out. She was running towards me, hands out, and I did what any other person would do in this situation. I sidestepped. She ran past me, not even realizing I was there, or so it would seem. Her helps echoed off of the walls.

"Is she gone?" My head snapped back to still see an empty hall.

"Down here." My eyes traveled down to look in the eyes of a midget, holding a baby doll. That woman's baby doll. Why would he... ohhh. Pedophile. His hand was slowly caressing the child back and forth, and his little hospital gown did nothing to hide the tent. Didn't have to be psychic to know what the bastard was into.

He looked earnest. "I know I shouldn't have took her, but she looked at me and I knew, at once, that she was mine. I imprinted on her!" What the fuck is imprinting and what about it makes liking a baby right? Especially, a baby DOLL. Not even one of the expensive ones either. All this one did was pee. Old school.

When I didn't speak back he frowned. I just pointed the way she had went and smiled prettily. He must have thought I meant she hadn't gone that way, because he sped off, as fast as his little legs would carry him. In a way, I could maybe see his interest in children. If for nothing other then the fact he was the size of one. It was still wrong though.

But, who was I to say what was wrong and right? That was for the law enforcers in the world. Getting back to my room wasn't that difficult once I remembered what I had came for. It was maneuvering around the glass and feeling up the dead nurse that was kind of difficult. She didn't really stink yet, but her eyes were open. Flashes of her not-so-bad past kept entering my mind, even though I was attempting to block if off. I maybe should have payed attention to my surrounding more, listened carefully for footsteps. Maybe even closed the door. But I didn't. So, when I heard a voice, a feminine one, I was surprised.

"This one's groping a dead nurse! Come 'ere, look!" Actually, I was looking for the key, which was now in my hand. Success! I didn't turn though, just let my hands rest on my knees. Whoever was behind me was probably getting a good view of my back and ass. Always was one of my best features. Or so I thought.

"Get away from there Natalie! What in the hell is wrong with you? Stay AWAY from the patients." Manly voice. Older. Using the term patient meant that they weren't apart of the institution, which meant they were normal. Oh joy. What would I do? Scare the shit out of them? Maybe. Didn't have anything else to do.

Hope you enjoyed! Review, message me, whatever. I'd kinda like to get somewhere with this and support would be nice.