The Merciless Death of Jordan Virginia Masters ~Chapter 5 Red and I were ready to leave. He knew nothing of my past except for what he had described earlier. A mystery, he called me. Red got the information from a particular source, a thick book, really, that all employees of the asylum were allowed to get their hands on. He didn't even know where I was born. Apparently, the book didn't have much information on anyone, but it had even less on me. Some people had close to no information at all, including that Watson guy. "Alright, girl." Red said. "We ought to get going. Hiding in a closet won't get us anywhere, except starving in a balled-up heap on the floor." "Wait," I said, "What do you eat here?" Red smiled ominously. "That's a secret." he said. He must have noticed the shock on my face because he countered it with, "Oh no, it's nothing repulsive. It's not cannibalism, either. Don't be getting too excited." Excited? Before leaving, we grabbed from his room anything that could prove useful. A box of matches, his deck of tattered playing cards, a small satchel full of who-knows-what (not food), a blanket and a dirty, rock-solid pillow from Red's bed, and a few metal chips. Red called them 'coins'. He said that at the asylum, there was a device called a 'telegraph' on the ground floor. However, a device was hooked up to it. You would need to feed the device a certain amount of these coins in order to use the telegraph. Red slung the satchel over his shoulder and the blanket over his arm. The coins, matches, and cards went in his pocket. He handed me the pillow to carry. Before we left, I noticed that Red took the framed picture of him and Callie. It looked very realistic, but I didn't know if someone had found a way to capture the view from real #life, or if it was a painting. Red put the picture in his satchel. Red approached the door. "Masters?" he said. "Uh- What?" I asked, surprised at the fact that he was about to ask me something. I had been asking most of the questions up until about now. "What do you like most about this place?" Red's question took me completely by surprise. He's been talking about the asylum as a horrible place from the minute it had been brought up. Now, what's this about a 'favorite' thing? "Well, I have a good view out my window," I said, "And I guess I look seeing the stars at night." Red considered this for a moment. He nodded. "You do know that you'd be able to see your stars better if you were outside, right?" "Oh, of course I know!" "Just checking." he said. "Also, remember that lower floors don't have windows so escapees won't do any jumping. If we manage to get down a few floors today, you may not see your stars for a very long time." "... I understand." I said. Although, it's not a big deal. The stars won't be going anywhere. Well, neither will be the ground floor. That's when I realized something. "Red?" I asked. "Why are we leaving so suddenly?" "Well," he said, "I... Never mind. Forget it." He waved his hand at me. "It doesn't matter. What does matter is getting out of this place and claiming freedom. Now," he put his hand on the doorknob, "Are you ready to go?" • • • One tiresome hour later. I've been racing as fast as I can after Red through the maze of hallways. Left, left, right, left, straight, right, straight, left, straight, left, left, right. I made sure to stay close at his heels the entire way, as not to cause a repeat of last time. After that solid hour ended, we went down one last bare hall. At the end was a short stairwell. "That was easy." Red said calmly as I struggled to catch my breath. "Not a single guard. Remember girl, there's less security on upper floors. Not only is there almost no reason to guard up here, but many guards are just too lazy to commute to such a high floor. It takes a while, even with a map permanently ingrained in your head." "Do you have a map ingrained in your head?" I asked. "Not anymore. We just got lucky on this floor is all." Red said. Before going any further, he brought up another quick topic. "In case you didn't know, we're on the top floor right now. Why they put you up here is beyond me. Perhaps the employees ran out of rooms. What ever the case may be, it's time for your first conscious step on floor nintey-three. Care you descend?" "Gladly." I said. I took up his un-expecting hand into my own, causing a yelp of surprise to escape his mouth, and sprinted down my first flight on steps, towing Red along behind me. I'm making progress. I'll get out of this asylum soon. I've got a friend to help me. However, is he really a friend? Why is he helping me? Did leaving so soon, or at all, benefit him other way I'm unaware of? My momentum carried forwards down the steps, at what seemed to be a million steps per each mind-blowing second. My heart raced at the sane pace. Here it comes. The final step. I can even see the floor of floor ninety-three! My bare foot slapped down on the last step, but didn't do so quite right. Suddenly, my head was crashing through the wooden floorboards. My vision went red, and faded slowly, painfully, into black. My ears were ringing, but the sound died away, along with the color and my consciousness. I tripped.

Ambiguities & Options Hi. Alright. Obviously, nobody's really reading The Merciless Death of Jordan Virginia Masters. I'm not entirely sure if I'm gonna discontinue it, or finish it. Deciding to complete it would be a true commitment, as the story just started. At this pace, it'll be a long time before finishing. So, should I continue it at all or not? In case you're wondering, the plot is currently in the most uneventful, most boring part as of about chapters three and four. Later on, things get fun, mean, and gory. Four out of the six characters introduced so far will eventually die. So, you tell me. Should I continue The Merciless Death, or just call it quits? You can respond in the comments if you want to. In case you're reading this without any previous knowledge of The Merciless Death, you could find some of the story in my list o' oppusses. I'd like to hear what people have to say. If no one says anything, I'll take it as a 'discontinue it!' Okay. That's all. Until next time. ouo

The Merciless Death of Jordan Virginia Masters ~Chapter 4 Red lives in a f*cking closet. "What do you think?" he asked. "The last time I've owned a real home was several years ago." I tried not to let my snickers be audible. This mysterious, nicely dressed man lives in a closet of an insane asylum? Sure, it was well-kept, and probably no worse than where I've been living, but you would expect more from someone like this. There was a torn mattress in the corner. A bucket with a broken water pipe served as a sink. There was a drain in the floor in the corner. I didn't want to think about it's purpose. There was a small wooden table in the middle of the room. Pulled up to it was a small white plastic chair and a small, hard metal chair that was slightly larger. On the table sat a deck of torn, tattered cards. However, they were in a neat deck in perfect order, from twos to aces with the jokers on the very bottom. Next to the mattress was a small night-table. On it was a plastic comb and a framed picture. "I see you find my humble abode humorous." he grumbled. "You know, I haven't been able to buy a home in years. I've been trapped in thus asylum for those years." I stopped snickering. "Why were you trapped here? You're not a captive!" I said. "You don't seem to understand." Red said. "This asylum is a labyrinth. The hallways are mazes. The cells are the own landmarks in the entire place. The building is ninety-four stories tall, and a square quarter of a mile wide. Trying to escape without help is basically suicide, what with dehydration, starvation, the guards, and the escapees like Watson. Also, you have no reference of time once you start heading down floors. Only the top floors have windows. Not the lower ones, in precaution that someone would be able to jump out and survive. Therefore, down on day, floor twenty-two, you'll never see a single bloody window." "That reminds me. Why has Watson been here multiple times?" I said. "I probably shouldn't answer that." Red said. "I thought you said you would tell me when we were safe. Aren't we safe now? Why can't you tell me?" I asked. "Fine. You win." Red replied. "Watson has escaped multiple times, each time injuring multiple guards, but never killing anyone. Well, any guards. He's killed other captives before. Each time he escaped, he was captured and thrown back in his cell. However, when giving chase, no guards seemed to be able to shoot Watson. It's as if he was able to avoid the bullets. Like... Dodge them. Dodge bullets. Watson will say that he came back, but that's just his futile attempt to keep a firm hold on his dignity and ego." "Okay." I walked over to his night-table. On it was that framed image. I picked it up out of curiosity. In the image was a young boy, probably about my age. He had black hair, but no glasses like Red has. He wore a little grey shirt and cargo shorts. Next to him, under his arm, was a girl of about his age. She was slightly shorter. She has bright blonde hair a eyes that seemed to sparkle. The couple's smiles were so nice and priceless! It was as if- Red grabbed the picture out of my hands, clearly peeved. "You aren't here to be looking at my stuff. I have you here to help- er, so I can help you escape." "Okay." I said. "But you'll have to answer my questions first." "Alright." That's why we're here." "So, where are we?" I asked. "You are in Connecticut, girl. Year... year... uh... Well, screw years. It's spring time, as you probably already know. Also... You're in an insane asylum, but I'll bet you already know that." Red answered. "Okay. Now, who the hell are you?" I asked. "Well," Red began, "I guess I should start early on. From an early age, I felt like I needed to serve the world in some way. Save a #life or two. I somehow inspired myself to be in the military. In school, I met plenty of people. That's when I met the girl in that photo." Red gestured towards the night-table with the framed image on it. "Her name was Callie. She and I were great friends. That was when she fell victim to a deadly illness that not only takes you #life, but also your sanity. I had come to her house to spend the night. We slept together. However, during the night, she stabbed my eyes with a pair of scissors. I was able to avoid serious injury after waking up right in time. However, it was still a blood bath. She stabbed my face and arms so many times. The bed sheets were soaked with my blood. That's what determined her insane. "She was taken to a mental institute. As for me, my wounds were stitched and I was given a blood transplant to speed up the increase of blood in my veins. However, my eyes could not be completely fixed. They were repaired well, but everything I saw was a blurry bloody mess. So I was given glasses. Even though she attacked me, I silently pledged to help people like her some day. I would become a nurse at an insane asylum. I was too young to learn how and to get employed at the time, so I wasn't able to help Callie. And well... The illness took her. There was nothing the doctors or mentors could do." Red looked away. He had begun to tear up from remembering his own memories. "Excuse me." I said. "Did you love this Callie girl?" "I guess you could say that. She felt the same way, too. So, I pledged to help the insane. I also pledged never to fall victim to love again." I fell silent. "I know, but I'm never going to let Callie happen all over again. Anyways, later on as a nurse in this very building, I was the only male nurse. The only one, in fact, who associated with the guards. I was the youngest one there. The only one who would remember all of this would be old Hosmer, but I doubt he remembers anything. Since I was a nurse, I wore a little bracelet with a single wooden bead on it. On the bead was a small red cross, painted on. This one here." Red pulled out his keys and showed me. Attached to the luck charm was all of the beads and feathers. I hadn't noticed before that the beads all had something painted on them. On the one he pointed out, there was a red cross painted on. "Anyways, I was soon referred to as Red by the guards and the other nurses, even though they had red on, too. And so, my new name was Red. I can't even remember my old name." Red turned to me. "Yes, that's right. My nickname has nothing to do with blood. I never killed anyone." Whoops. I guess Red was right. I am bad at keeping my brain's voice to myself. I must have just said something stupid without realizing it. "Anyways, that's when the Bloody Dreams came around. You know about them, don't you?" "Of- of course!" I said. "Good. I won't have to explain it to you. Well, when the accused began pouring in, all of the nurses gave up hope. There was no way we could help them all. However, we had enough rooms for all of them. Many nurses went down to the first floor to quit and walk out that fabled front door. Even more died trying. However, some nurses, like me, stuck around. We want to help the innocent escape. But, by now, I feel like, after saving three people, that I've had enough. Each time is a different adventure. I've almost died more time than I can count. That's why I want to leave as well when we get to the front door someday." "That'd be great, Red." I said. "How long would it take to escape?" "Depends, really." Red said. "It usually only takes a matter of days though. No more than a week or two, usually." "That's wonderful. Escaping with you would be truly wonderful. But, I have one more question." I said. "What?" Red asked. He had fully recovered by now from his break-down earlier. "Well," I said, "Who am I?"

The Merciless Death of Jordan Virginia Masters ~Chapter 3 Off we went. I followed at Red's heels as he gingerly opened the old cell door. It creaked open for the second time in quite a while. As soon as it was closed behind us, Red turned right and began to run. "Ahh?" I exclaimed. "I thought we were safe! Why are you running?" "You can never truly know, can you?" Red said over his shoulder. "You'll have to keep up, girl!" I began to run and catch up with Red. This whole time, I've been trying to figure out what his job here was, or used to be, and how it earned him the nickname Red. He could have very well been a janitor, but how would his relatively formal clothes get within his grasp? Perhaps we was a guard. But, again, the clothes! However, if he was a guard, that could explain his nickname. Red is the color of blood. Had Red killed someone as a guard? Or had he never been a guard at all? "Hey, Red?" I said, coming back to reality. Red was not in front of me. I was at an intersection of hallways, the hallways with brick walls and birch wood flooring. I could go four ways, as I had no idea which path I came from. Red was no where to be found. I panicked. "RED! REEED!!" I shouted his name and went down the hallway to my left. From there, I started making random turns at very fork and intersection. "RED!!!!" "Girl! Girl, shut your mouth! You're bound to get yourself caught!" Red's voice was very faint, but I heard it. I began to follow the voice. I ran and ran, without stopping, towards where I thought he was. The halls truly were a maze. I noticed while running that I only saw a few other cells. It's as if these hallways were meant to confuse you, not just to provide access to the cells. How could I have been such an idiot? I got sidetracked mentally and got lost, somehow, even though I was right behind him the whole time. I took a sharp left at an intersection, and abruptly ran right into someone. I hit them with an impact, and fell backwards, landing forcefully on my behind. Oh shit... I thought. I didn't look up. I just stared at the floor, sitting there, not daring to move a muscle. I had a vague idea about who was standing over me. "Girl! Stupid girl! Where did you go?!" I heard Red. He sounded even farther away than he was before. The person standing over me was not Red. Then, the person began to laugh. His laugh was dry and crackly, like my voice was when I woke up from my coma with six months worth of a dry throat and a bad flu. When he finished laughing, I looked up. It was not a guard. "Oh, look who it is!" said the man. "What a pleasurable surprise, to see a young woman's pretty face in a huge building stuffed full of insane, dirty men! Ha!" The man wore the same apparel as I did, except it looked older and dirtier. Streaks of dried blood stained his color and cuffs. His hair was a blazing orange. He had vicious-looking yellow eyes. He was clearly a captive, but what was he doing out of his cell, too? "Ahh, that boy Purple helping you out? I swear, he may seem confident, but the boy has absolutely no trust for anyone, even himself!" the man grabbed me by the collar and, with a swift motion, jerked me up to my feet. He had so much strength in the one arm! I went from sitting to in the air to standing in just a moment. "Now, who am I, I'll but you're wondering. Well," he said, "I'm a bloody thirsty, sour, cold-hearted man. But some call me Watson. Now sweetie, what are you doing out of your cell? Is Green taking you somewhere? Where? How's Robert? How's Mary?" Watson rested his chin on his hand. "You interest me, child!" "Get away from me!" I shouted. I didn't know entirely why. But, I felt like I needed to get away. I didn't want to be around this creep anymore. I turned and ran back the way I came, but continued straight through the intersection, down the right pathway. "Alright, honey!" Watson called behind me. "But if you ever want real help escaping this asylum, you come see old Mr. Watson, you hear? I've escaped this place four times!" "I stopped short. I turned around. "Escaped four times?" I shouted to him from the far end of the hall. "I came back." he replied. I turned and ran, faster this time, arms pumping. Watson just laughed. He was clearly insane. He probably could have killed me right then, with a weapon or with his bare fists. Also, why would he come back to a place like this? "Girl! Where were you?!" Red said the moment I stepped into an intersection. Red was right there, in the left pathway. He had a relieved smile on his face. "Red!" I ran over to him and grabbed his neck with my arms tightly. What was this called? Hugging. "I'm sorry I got lost! I'm so stupid!" "No, no. It's alright." Red said, awkwardly pushing me off of him. "I just hope you didn't run into any trouble." "Well... I met Watson." I said. Red's relived expression dropped. His face grew dark. "Oh... You met him." Red put an impolite emphasis on the word him. Red clearly knew Watson, and probably didn't like him very much. I didn't. "He didn't say anything about anyone you know, did he?" "No," I said, "Though he did mention I couple of people I don't know. Robert and Mary." "What did be say about them?" "Nothing. He just asked how they were doing." "Oh, good." Red's relieved expression returned. "Let's just hope that was just more if Watson's constant blabbering. Anyways, I'm glad your here. This is the place I wanted to show you." "Where?" I asked. "Here," Red said, turning around to face a close metal door behind him, "Is my home."

All I Can Say is Thank You Six feet beneath the soil My family of four lay Oh, what fun would normally birth If they were alive that day Clouds release their tears Streaking my damp face Does heaven feel my pain Alone in this place? Sorrow stole my heart Grief took my soul It wasn't really your fault That fate took it's toll Your blade met mother's stomach Your bullets met father's head Are you happy that your job is done And that my family is dead? It was inevitable I promise I won't be the one to sob But could you have waited For time to do it's job? A struggle builds character A pain builds a shield But did you have to choose so soon To have our fates sealed? You are no different from the others Rather, it like deja-vu No matter who is killed, All I can say is Thank You