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"I don't know, doctor. I honestly don't know. All of the sedatives, all of the medications... nothing helps. I've examined all of her case files from her previous residencies here in Shady Oaks Asylum. It appears she suffered an incredible loss in her teens...."

"I am aware of her trauma. I read her files. Nothing explains this kind of erratic behavior. Normally, children who live in dysfunctional families.... and any who have cases this severe, end up quiet and withdrawn. This isn't common at all. This is very rare. For a woman of her age, and with her psychiatric evaluations from just a few years ago.... it shows that she should be perfectly normal, living life to it's fullest as a typical baby-boomer-echo of the new millennium. I've never seen a case this bad."

"She doesn't respond to any of the mediations. It is as if she never even taken them. We are just wasting our facilities, out time, our effort. She's a nutcase, doctor. We need to put her away for good."

The doctor rubs his chin.

"No. No.... I've never given up on a patient in 30 years, I am not going to now. his girl has something deeper... something that we can draw out and study, if we can unmask it. I've been reviewing her last years' worth of life... it appears to be all centered around her work. Again, it shows no sign of an improvement. The same, dangerous dysfunctional environment she was raised in. It wouldn't suprise me if it takes months to break through this poor girl."

"She grew up in a wasted old city in the Heartland. You'd figure that kind of setting would be peaceful... tranquil."

"Not hardly. You'd be suprised."

"I suppose a trip to this macabre lifestyle would be in order? I have bad news, her home was burnt down just a few years ago. Police reports are sketchy, but other teens who called it a 'hangout' observed a female, early twenties leaving the area with a gasoline tank and a wicked look on her face."

"Sounds like our girl."

"She's had more history with arson and assault.... she's been charged several times with aggravated assault, battery, arson, thievery, and she's also down as a convicted felon for habitual offences in assault and battery, fraud, .... jesus... she has several charges of attempted murder, but was let free!"

"That, would be her case file with her father."

"No, sir. In 2001, she apparently attempted to kill an ex fiance and his newest girlfriend, same year she eat a man so bloody the had to piece his face together with tweezers and hell of a lot of crazy glue... doc.... are you sure you want to go through with this?........"

"She has a lot of demons, doctor."

"Yes."

"Are you prepared to dive into all of that?"

"Yes."

"You think you'll be able to help her?"

"No. But I will die trying."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

A bright, white room. Nothing but white. But the light remains off, for this criminally insane mastermind of pain and hate took the light out with her own head. In a blind fury, she slammed herself against the wall so fast and mad, that she rode up the corner of the wall, and bashed her head into the light fixture above. She had been screaming for a lawyer for more than two hours straight. They changed isolation rooms several times,especially after she had beaten herself so hard into the wall it began to crumble. But now. nothing but darkness. Darkness remains her only salvation. It is the only thing that has remained over all these years of her pain and hate. Lost and alone, the dark was always there. Even in broad daylight, dark still lingered... just waiting for the right time to again, consume all.

Through a small window in the double steel-plated door, is the darkness. A entity she has trusted and depended upon for ages. Only a mere trickle of light can be seen reflecting off the white padded surface of the floor in the isolation room. A bloody, scratched-up foot in the shadow just beyond that. A sillhouette, perhaps. Of the girl in the corner, clutching onto her jacket she has managed to gnaw her way through once again. She hums a soft tune..... no one can make it out, but it only makes it's way to the soundproof walls before it bounces back into her own ears. But if it were to reach anyone else, it would only sound like a broken, fearsome song of tears and pain.... only a mutter beyond cracked lips and the heaving bosom the air enters and escapes. The blood had run so quickly from the new gash on her head from her injury against the light fixture, that it tumbled through her clothing in a raging river.... cascading down her legs and feet onto the white floor. A flashlight shines through the window, trying to pick out the woman from the dark. Three doctors, the ones from before stand before the door. The eldest and wisest up to the task of breaking through the barriers she built so strongly in her mind, wears a long white lab-coat. His salt and pepper beard and balding head contrast against the white surroundings, his peach-ish skin with a hint of bronze proving his checkbook exceeds a length of fortune enough to enjoy the finer things in life. Under his labcoat, the faintest hint of Old Spice. A picture resides in his pocket of his grand-daughter, a beautiful girl in her late childhood, acne covering her forehead. A nurse with dark brown hair stands beside him, her overly-tight white skirt covering cellulite-covered legs. She remains unself-conscious, even though she is aware of her imperfections. Her busty chest protrudes out of another small cloth that could be called a shirt. A middle-aged doctor with a receding hairline stands next to her, with two male orderlies. The eldest doctor speaks.

"Six straight jackets in four hours?!?"

"Yes, doctor. We have put the toughest on her, but somehow she manages to wiggle free."

"And what about this light?"

"We tried to have a repairman come in to replace the light after we fitted her with the new model jacket. Little did we know, she managed to break the double-latched safety cuffs, rip through the back of the suit like a parachute bag, and pop free. The repairman was on a ladder when she attacked......"

"...My god."

"He is in the Sherwood Memorial Hospital right now. A punctured lung, three broken ribs and a fracture on the skull."

"We took out all of the chairs and tables from this room before we placed her inside.. somehow, that doesn't seem to help."


".......Doctor?"

"Yes?"

"You realize you WILL die trying, right?"

The doctor stares into the solitary room, where the red headed woman sits humming her tune. The doctor fits the key in the lock of the door, and opens it.

"Doctor... she isn't wearing a jacket."

"Maybe all she wants is to be free."

The doctor opens the door, the two orderlies stepping inside. An old, familiar smell cascades into the room as the orderlies enter, the bright green-blue eyes popping open wildly in the darkness.

"Lillith? Dr. Castillo is here to see you.... if you cooperate, we won't put you in any restraints..... do you comply?"

She doesn't hear. She is far from hearing... that smell... that smell oh god that smell....... THE SMELL!!! Lillith jumps up from her position, taking out the two orderlies with a hard clothesline. Lillith rushes for the door, as the three doctors press themselves against the door, barricading her inside. Lillith scratches wildly, nearly tearing the metal plates off the door where the mehcanisms for the locks sleep sweetly inside. If only she could tear it off, and pry apart the metal......

The young female nurse screams, as Lillith bashes herself against the door with her shoulder. Two security officers rush to the area, pinning the door with all of their weight. The eldest doctor, Castillo, locks the door.

"What are you doing!? We have to get the orderlies out of there! She will KILL THEM!"

The middle-aged doctor begins to take the keys from Dr. Castillo, who smacks him backward into the door.

"No! It's them or us, here. We have security. She will be held fully responsible for her actions. If we tire her out, she will succumb to our requirements to make her talk to us! Those orderlies have been through physical training of many sorts.... if they can't handle this girl we've pumped full of sedatives... they couldn't handle a young canine loose in a garage!"

"You're CRAZY! I'm going to report this to the Council!"

"YOU DO THAT, Dr. Corrigan! Do it! You do that, and all the time we put into testing the mental capabilities of our patients go RIGHT out the door! You want ti getting out your little experiment with your third patient last year? HM!? You remember that, Corrigan? I don't think the Council will see treating a patient with extreme paranoia with a whole fat sack of illegal substances as a rational idea, huh?"

The young male doctor bites his tongue, as he punches his fist into the door. It is silent, for a moment. The noises behind the wall suddenly hesitate, as an orderly is seen being bashed against the door, his face smearing against the glass. The nurse jumps back, a scream emanating from deep inside her. She coughs on her own saliva an bile, as blood spews from the orderlie's mouth. Lillith rushes to the other orderly, who still hangs on tightly to the flashlight. Lillith bashes the two orderlie's heads together, knocking the first orderly out. She grabs onto the second orderly, flipping him to the ground. The orderly stands, as Kitten eerily runs up on the wall, kicking him hard in the jaw, his head snapping backward. He drops the flashlight, a brief sputter of the flashlight flickers across the room, Lillith's still figure, her hair draped over her face again melds with the darkness.

"Jesus fucking CHRIST, doctor!"

Dr. Castillo looks to the window, utterly shocked. The nurse steps beside him, as the doctor tries to shield his eyes to see inside the room.

"Melanie...."

Melanie Rosen, the nurse, looks to Castillo, fear in her eyes.

"Melanie.... get to the desk and get me my vocal recorder."

Suddenly, the pale-faced, green-blue eyed expression of hate and sorrow smashes against the window. Nurse Rosen falls backward into a desk screaming, knocking over a PC, and random papers. Two sprawled-fingered hands press against the window with the cheek of the red-headed mistress Dr. Castillo has so willingly taken into his jurisdiction. Her mouth opens against the window, and though clearly muffled by the soundproof room, laughter escapes from her blood-dried lips, howling into the 6 by 5 padded room. Hot air leaves Lillith's body, leaving a wet, sticky film on the glass where her lips meet the window. Tears flow down her cheeks, dripping into the dried blood on her body, causing it to flow fresh again. Lillith falls against the door, her laughter turning into a growing sob. Dr. Castillo faces Dr. Corrigan, and Nurse Rosen.

"I am going to go in there, and you are going to shut and lock this door behind me."

"What!? Are you insane!?"

"It takes one to know one, Corrigan. You said that to me once."

Dr. Castillo flashes Dr. Corrigan an ugly look, as he opens up the door. The door pushes against Lillith's limp body, as Dr. Castillo lifts her from under her arms, and sets her on the cot built into the wall. Lillith doesn't move, only to bring her legs up to her chest, her tears splashing against her knees as she buries her crying face into them, as a protective sheild.

"Lillith?......... Lillith?"

The doctor reaches out to touch her, as she suddenly sits up straight sptting at him.

"KITTEN! It's KITTEN! GET IT FUCKING STRAIGHT, YOU SHIT! I WANT A GOD DAMN LAWYER! AND I WILL KILL EVERY LAST ONE OF YOU UNTIL I GET MY LAWYER! THIS IS BULLSHIT!"

Lillith is suddenly ravaged by a whooping cough that renders her it's captive, until she coughs so hard, blood comes into the palm of her hand. Dr. Castillo looks to the awed doctors at the door, motioning to call a doctor. Lillith looks to the doctor, glossy tears coating her eyes like a barrier against the thoughts behind them. The doctor eyes her. She looks worse than she had ever, since her stay in the beginning, back in the 1990's at Shady Oaks Asylum. She ripped apart almost all her clothing except for the bare essentials, not by choice, but by accident in her worst times of attack. She shudders, as Castillo orders two security officials to drag the bodies of the orderlies out of the room. The moonlight filters through a barred window, the cool air breezing through. The doctor pulls out a vocal recorder out of hi pocket, the same one Nurse Rosen handed to him as Lillith pressed herself against the window like a Garfield stuffed-animal in a family van's rear-window. She clutches her legs tightly, as the doctor reaches out to touch her. Lillith snaps.

"DON'T FUCKING TOUCH ME!!"

She almost loses her breath again, a deep, low rumble escaping from far below her belly. She twitches slightly, her desperate need to break more body parts barreling through her sanity. She digs her nails into her calves, marking deep blood-red lines into the pale flesh. She looks from the doctor, to the officers dragging the orderlies out the door.

"...Lillith.... Kitten.... whoever you want to call yourself. I am not here to harm you. I am Dr. Ray Castillo. I am the head psychologist here at Shady Oaks. Do you know what day it is?"

Lillith remains unresponsive, as the doctor blinks a few times and goes on.

"All right, we will talk some other time. I just wanted you to know that you are safe, here. You don't have to fight anymore, Lillith. You can be who you are here."

"I am who I am...."

It barely reaches the doctor's ears. He blinks hard again, and stands.

"Lillith, why did you attack the repairman?"

"Because I can."

"Lillith, please don't make this harder than it needs to be. It makes it only worse for yourself. I know you're a bright girl. You know the longer you put this off, the longer your stay here is."

"I won't be here for long. I'll kill each and every one of you pathetic roaches until I reach the front door."

Castillo is taken aback, but looks to Lillith condescendingly.

"Lilltih... please. Why did you attack the orderlies."

In the back of Lillith's mind, the smell of the orderlies resonates harshly in her nostrils. Her eyes widen in anger, her brows turning into a low curve of rage, etched on her forehead. A picture flashes in her head - a bottle of "Brut", an old cologne.. on her father's shelf in the bathroom. The same bottle he broke over her head once... the eau de toilette pouring down her head, into the cuts on her face, into her sobbing eyes. Drowning out her tears.. the blood.... until there was nothing but pain.... and the smell......

"They reeked of it. The smell."

"What smell, Lillith? Help me help yo-"

"YOU FINISH THAT FUCKING SENTANCE, AND I WILL FUCKING GUT YOU! YOU HEAR ME!? I am TIRED of shrinks. I am tired of logic. I GET WHAT I WANT. AND I WANT THEM TO SUFFER LIKE I DID!"

The doctor's eyes brighten, as a small trigger goes off in his head. He nods slightly, and goes to the door.

"I am your doctor now, Lillith. Whether you like it or not. Your deeds as of recently give you no right for a lawyer. If you were under arrest, you'd have your Miranda read to you. You are under psychiatric evaluation to prevent you from getting away from a consequence you constantly avoid. This, is your last chance, Lillith. This is it. .... I will see you tomorrow. Get some sleep."

Dr. Castillo opens the door to the isolation room by the metal panel Lillith began to rip off. He closes the door behind him, the latch of the bolt heard almost immediately after. Lillith looks to the barred-window, falling into her own hypnotic trance of revelation. Constantly battling within herself, she is suprised to find her mind if relatively empty.

"Just like my life."

Lillith laughs to herself slightly, as she continues to wander through her mind. She falls into a pit of thought not even she can drag herself from, just as she has so many times before. A dream-like state. But it is only her life repeating itself. Flashes of blood, flashes of tears mingling with each drop of the crimson life. Things seem to have taken an abrupt halt in her plans, causing a rough disturbance to fill her with guilt. Guilt? Why guilt? STEVE JASON..... she just sent him into a whirlwind of a freight-train, speeding her direction for the kill. Isn't that the opposite of what she had worked for? Dreamed for?.............

-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Dr. Castillo eyed the doctors standing around him, who stood shocked and awed by his process.... that he walked out unscathed. What was his deal? Was he immortal? Supernatural?

"Doctor.... are you all right?"

"I am fine, Rosen. Where are the orderlies?"

"Probably heading for the morgue, after what you did to them."

"Don't be ludicrous, Corrigan."

"They are in the ward, getting examined by the Chief of Medical. They should be fine. Daniel probably has a broken jaw, though. He couldn't even talk."

"Jesus...."

"Doctor, you talked to her. Did she say anything crucial to our investigations?"

"Just that she wanted a lawyer, as before. But I think we have a problem."

"What is it, doctor?"

"That girl in there, it isn't Lillith . Groves."

"What?"

"It isn't her at all. It's someone else she's manifested who's taken over completely."


"What are you saying Doctor, that we have a real loon on our hands?"

"No, no........ a schizophrenic."