• “But you don’t understand, I’m not crazy!” Jordan screams as the orderlies throw him into his new home; a padded cell in Mellow Springs Institute. “Please, let me out!” he tries once more. The orderly just shakes his head and shuts the door. Jordan screams and runs to the door, pounding until his fists bleed despite the padding.
    “I’ll get out of here soon,” he mutters to himself, “My family will come for me eventually.” He knows this isn’t true though, they’re the ones who have had him locked up. If only his grandpa hadn’t loved him the best, he thinks. If only someone else had received the fortune in his large family, maybe then he wouldn’t be in this situation. Instead his grandpa had loved him best, and he had received the fortune his grandpa had obtained. He had enjoyed his newfound wealth for a month before the jealousy of his family took it all away. They had reported him as insane, and after an appointment with a well known psychiatrist he was admitted to his new home.
    He looks at the featureless white padded walls of his room and feels himself beginning to lose hope. It’s over for him, he’s locked away, and he’s never getting out, and so Jordan’s first night in Mellow Springs Institute begins with him in a corner sobbing.
    The next day Jordan is allowed out of his room to converse with the other “inmates” as Jordan thinks of them. Jordan is welcomed into the large community room by the hostile stares of several of the inhabitants of his prison. He is surprised by the amount of sanity and intelligence in their eyes.
    The room is plain and rectangular, with tables set up in the center. Around the edges are couches and a TV in the corner. A few of the prisoners are watching the television with focused eyes, but most are staring at the newcomer who has trespassed on their turf. Jordan walks nervously to a nearly empty table and sits across from a lanky man who has watched Jordan carefully ever since he walked in.
    “You’ll have to excuse the patients here,” the man whispers to Jordan quietly. Jordan replies with a questioning look. The man smiles softly, “They aren’t used to new faces around here; they view you as a threat.”
    “A threat to what?” Jordan asks, also whispering.
    “Their way of life, they are comfortable here. They don’t want anyone changing that.”
    “How could I change that?”
    The man’s smile changes from a small one to a full grin, “That is the question, isn’t it?”
    Jordan shakes his head, now thoroughly confused. “I’m Zach by the way,” the man says.
    “Jordan,” is Jordan’s quick and quiet reply. Zach laughs, and not a quiet one either, but a full blown howl of laughter. Jordan is taken aback and winces. Zach stops laughing after a couple minutes and finally returns his attention to Jordan, “You’re going to have fun here my friend, oh yes, you are going to have fun.”
    Jordan tries to repress a shudder, but fails.
    “Why don’t you tell me about yourself?” Zach asks.
    Several hours later, Jordan is interrupted from his life story by a tap on his shoulder. He turns to see a girl, barely out of her teens, standing behind him. She slouches so he isn’t able to see just how tall she is, but he can see that even slouching she is taller than him, though that isn’t saying much. Her hair falls in her face in long strands, and her hands shake. Her eyes are dark green and are amazingly sharp. She smiles softly and passes him a piece of paper. She quickly turns away and shuffles to a table not that far away.
    Jordan slowly unfolds the paper and glances down at it. Written in small slanting letters are the words, “Watch your back,” and under it is a realistic drawing of the woman he just saw strapped in a chair with her scalp cut off and blood pouring onto the floor.
    Jordan quickly folds the note back up and turns his eyes to where the girl had been, but she is gone. His eyes scan the rest of the room, but she is nowhere to be seen. He looks over to Zach, but he just shrugs and motions for Jordan to continue to tell his story.
    “I’ll tell you more tomorrow,” Jordan says, “I’m tired, I’m going to go sleep.” He stands and walks over to the orderly standing at the door. He gives Jordan a distrustful glance and says rudely, “What do you want?”
    “I want to go back to my room now,” Jordan says. The orderly opens the door and nods Jordan out. He walks to his room quietly, and once inside sits in the corner, hugging his knees and wondering when he will wake from this nightmare. His stomach growls and he realizes he hasn’t eaten in two days. He curls up tighter and closes his eyes. Even though he hasn’t eaten two days he hasn’t slept for many more. Soon his eyes shut and he is lost to the dreams.
    The walls seem warped to Jordan’s eyes as he opens them after sleeping. They have bent and twisted out of any natural shape, and now spiral in no way any wall could in reality. Jordan closes his eyes and wills himself to wake up, but when he opens his eyes nothing has changed. He looks over to the door, and is surprised to see an empty frame. He unfurls himself from the floor and begin to walk to what he hopes will lead himself out of the dream.
    Instead of into the welcome land of the awake it leads him into the hallway, just as twisted as his room. He looks both ways down the hallways, hoping for something to tell him which way to go. After standing at his door for several minutes he decides that he has to make the decision himself and begins to head to the left.
    He walks the now twisted halls in hope of a way out of the institute. After making his decision to go left he begins to hope that something will tell him what to do next, and very shortly something does. Jordan is jolted from his mindless walking by the sound of someone screaming. He runs off in the direction of the sound, the piercing shrieks echoing in his head. He makes turn after twisted turn, the sound of the human in obvious agony growing ever louder, until, when he thinks he can take no more, the screams are abruptly cut off. Jordan pauses for only a second, shocked by the sudden silence, but he soon gathers himself together and continues his run down the halls.
    It is only a couple minutes later that he finds himself at the entrance to a small, dimly lit room. A single uncovered bulb hangs from the ceiling, illuminating only a small circle in the center of the room. It is by this light that Jordan is able to see a single metal chair. It reminds him of a chair that you might see at a dentist office, only much more frightening. There are straps across the back of it and on the arms, and attached to it is a strange machine with something that reminds Jordan of a drill. Unfortunately for the person sitting in the chair, the drill is on, though not moving towards him.
    Jordan runs up next to the chair and looks at the person. He is young, maybe in his late teens, and slumped down in the chair. Jordan gently pushes the person, and the head rolls off of his shoulders.
    Jordan awakes with a start, sweat dripping down his body. He has no idea how long he’s been asleep, but he knows that it’s been a long time. He looks around and sees that he is still in his room, safe from strange chairs with headless patients. He shakes his head and turns to the door, about to ask if he can get some food, when he looks down at his hands. On them is blood, blood which came from the patient in his dream. Jordan stares at his hands for several seconds and then shrieks.

    It had been three days since the events of Jordan’s inexplicable dream. Mellow Springs Institute had been turned inside out by the brutal murder of one pf the patients. The man’s body was found in his room, his head was found in the rec. room, a look of fear frozen on his features. There was a police investigation, but it didn’t last long, it was over in less then two days. There was no witness, no evidence, and no motive. On the third day, after the police had left Mellow Springs for the last time, Jordan was released from where the orderlies had hid him and allowed to rejoin the community of the asylum. His reintegration was quick and uneventful, but he did notice that the wards looked at him differently afterwards. They no longer looked at him with hate, but instead with fear. It was if they knew what he had seen, and were not sure if he was the one who had murdered there fellow patient.
    His second day in the rec. room felt much different from his first. Instead of the hostility he expected to feel when walking into it he felt the cold shoulder of fear. He stood in the doorway looking at each person. Very few met his gaze, and those who did quickly averted their eyes. Only two people made eye contact, Zach, who was sitting in a couch across the room, and the girl who had given him the warning his first day.
    Zach beckoned for Jordan to join him, and after a lingering glance at the girl Jordan obeyed. He collapsed next to Zach and sighed.
    “Long day?” Zach asked.
    “Long past three days, my friends,” was Jordan’s sad reply.
    “I hear you,” Zach said, “I don’t think the others like you very much.”
    “What makes you think that, the fact that they stay three feet away from me at all times, or that they never meet my eyes?”
    Zach laughed and said, “Neither, it was that I heard one of them say, ‘I don’t like that Jordan kid.’”
    Jordan laughed, but to his own ears he sounded hysterical. The past three days had been very trying for his mind, and he could feel himself beginning to crack under the pressure. He could feel his mind beginning slip, and he was grasping for any hold to sanity. He needed something to give him a reason to live, if he didn’t he would go insane.
    “-how bout you?” Zach finished a question that Jordan had missed.
    “I’m sorry?” Jordan said.
    “Never mind,” Zach said, “I’m going to go get something to eat, you want to come?”
    Jordan shook his head and Zach shrugged and walked away. Jordan leaned back and closed his eyes, prepared to spend the next several hours in sleep that he desperately needed, but to his dismay he was disturbed by a sharp tap on his shoulder. He opened his eyes to see an orderly standing over him.
    This one seemed nicer then the others, his face was softer, and his expressions were not ones that seemed frozen in hate. Also he was polite, “Could you come with me please?” he asked Jordan.
    Jordan sighed and stood up, “Sure.”
    They exited the rec. room together and began to walk down the long corridors of the institute. The orderly took him down several turns, and Jordan began to wonder how big Mellow Springs really was. He had never seen it from the outside, and he only knew the way from his room to the rec. room and back. He hadn’t even seen the cafeteria, he was certain this place was much bigger than he had thought at first.
    “Could you maybe tell me where it is you’re taking me?” Jordan asked.
    “You’re going to go see The Doctor,” the orderly said, his voice shaking with what Jordan thought was fear.
    “Are you afraid?” Jordan asked, struggling to keep up with the orderly’s long strides.
    The orderly nodded and said, “The Doctor is not the nicest man, and I don’t like going anywhere near him.”
    Jordan nodded and continued to follow his guide to whatever fate had in store for him.

    The Doctor’s office was a simple place. Small, rectangular, and most of it was taken up by a large wooden desk. There was not much light in the room, and the shadows seemed to reach for Jordan hungrily, at least that’s what Jordan thought.
    The Doctor himself was an old man, at least in his late sixties, with a full head of white hair and thick round glasses. He always smiled, though it was not a smile of happiness, but instead one that made you wonder just what he was thinking. He spoke with a British accent, and stood behind his desk with his hands clasped behind his back.
    “I brought you here so I could ask you some questions,” The Doctor said. Jordan shrugged; he didn’t like how nice The Doctor sounded, like he was talking to a six year old. “Can we do anything to help with your living conditions?” The Doctor asked.
    “Yeah, you could let me out,” Jordan replied. The Doctor shook his head, “I’m sorry, but we are not able to do that, you see you’re-“ Jordan cut him off by banging his hands on the desk and shouting, “I’m not crazy, I don’t belong here, my parent’s put me in here because they wanted my money!”
    The Doctor shook his head, “My my, what a temper you have my young friend. I’m afraid you are wrong though, your parents did not put you in here, it was your care taker.”
    “My what?” Jordan asked, now confused, “No, I’m pretty sure my parents put me in here.”
    “That’s quite impossible my friend, for you see, your parents are dead, have been for quite some time now, almost ten years,” he checked his charts, “That would be when you were about nine years old.”
    “I know how old I was ten years ago,” Jordan snapped, though he had thought that he was only fifteen.
    “No, I’m afraid you don’t,” The Doctor said, “You have been living in a delusion for quite some time now my friend, and you were put into this clinic to help you escape your fantasy world.”
    Jordan shook his head, his mind raced, trying to accept this new information. Nothing about what he had just learned made sense, and he was completely lost. He found himself wondering if maybe he was crazy, and that’s when everything changed.
    Jordan looked up and saw The Doctor’s smile widen. It was at that moment that Jordan realized how amazingly sharp The Doctor’s teeth were. Not just the canines, but ever single one of his teeth seemed to be filed down to a point. The already dim light began to darken even more, and the shadows advanced hungrily, cloaking The Doctor in darkness. The only thing that wasn’t hidden was that strange fanged smile and the two round lenses of The Doctor’s glasses. Jordan felt fear beginning to make itself known to him and he took a step back. The mouth responded by speaking.
    “Hello Jordan, welcome to Insanity.”
    Jordan let out the scream that had been building behind his lips, and turned to the large oaken door. He shoved it open and shot out of the small office, barreling over the confused orderly who had taken him to this cursed office.
    “What’s wrong?” Jordan managed to catch these words from the orderly before he was far down the hallway. That was when the sound that would haunt him until his dying day reached his ears. It was the sound of a human voice screaming, and being cut off by a meaty crunch. The orderly was dead, probably killed by The Doctor. If Jordan had any reason to run, it was this. The Doctor was free, and it was a killer.
    Jordan raced down the hallways that his mind had twisted beyond recognition. His heart raced and his breathing was labored. He had no idea of how long he had been running, but he knew that he had left the monster that had killed the orderly far behind. At least he hoped he had. Jordan slowed to a walk and began to wonder just what he was supposed to do next. His steps were slow and heavy, and his head hung from the thought of the certain death that was soon to follow. As he walked the halls, his thoughts far away, he heard a small voice whisper to him, “You trying to get away from The Doctor?” Jordan jumped; his mind wasn’t prepared to handle anymore surprises. He turned to where he had heard the voice and was surprised to see a slender crack in the wall.
    “Are you trying to get away from The Doctor?” the voice repeated. Jordan looked back and forth and then leaned closer to the crack, “Yeah, how’d you know?”
    The voice laughed and said, “No one really runs down the halls looking like you do unless they’re running from The Doctor.”
    Jordan stared harder at the crack and was surprised when a hand appeared out of it and grabbed his arm, pulling him towards the narrow slit in the wall.
    “I’m not gonna fit!” Jordan screamed as he slid closer and closer to the wall.
    “Nonsense, this is insanity, you can do whatever you want,” the voice said, ending this statement with a high pitched cackle. Jordan braced himself for the inevitable impact with the wall and screwed his eyes shut, but after several seconds of standing perfectly still he looked around him, and saw that he was now on the other side of the wall.
    “How- what- who?” Jordan stuttered out before collapsing on his knees on the floor.
    “Silly boy,” the voice continued, though the speaker him or herself was not visible, “I told you this is insanity, whatever I want you to do you can do, and just now I wanted you to fit in that teeny tiny crack, isn’t that fun?”
    Jordan just sat on the floor and shook.
    “However you aren’t much use to me in this condition, I think you need a friend. Someone like Ashley, don’t you?”
    Jordan continued to shake.
    “Poor child, I think I hurt his already fragile mind, ASHLEY! This poor child needs your help. I want you to explain everything to him for me, I’m much too tired.”
    Out of the shadows a figure walked towards Jordan. She knelt down next to him and wrapped her arms around him.
    “I didn’t think we’d ever manage to meet like this, it’s a good thing you finally decided to join us.”
    Jordan looked up into the eyes of the girl who he had met on his first day.
    “I told you to watch your back; you should have listened to me.”