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?"