[ WP ] You are a patient in a psych ward . You decide to break out , but find that the entire place was abandoned long ago

Jonathan had just finished his most recent `` food mark'' on his heavily padded walls. The familiar grind of his automatic food tray dispenser began its usual monotonous tone to which he hummed along happily. Digging deep into the padding with his carefully tooth-sharpened nails, he wondered when he would see another person again. He heard voices once, yes, yes not like all *those* voices. No *these* were different, to him it sounded like muffled screams, he clapped merrily, raising his hands to their tune, like the maestro to chaos. He replayed every moment with his hands outstretched. 
 
 With a twitch, he came to realise he was **still** stuck within this damned place. How long had it been? The walls were all but shredded but Jon was more than accustomed to waking up confused. Its what got him here in the first place. He shuddered at the thought, all that blood... 
 
 Like a switch he twitched again. *You know it was fun, the only reason you stay in here is because you enjoyed it, I know because I am you* he slapped at his forehead. Bad! Bad! Or... Was it? 
 
 His trail of thought was rudely interrupted. The grinding came to a halt, yet no tray! He was always quick to anger. He kicked, punched and screamed his way around the room. Yet just as it flared, his anger quickly dissipated when an unfamiliar creak revealed a crack in his tomb. For a while he sat in wonder, watching the sunlight stream in. So **bright**, for years he had the same yellow tinge permeate his lifeless skin. 
 
 He dipped a toe into the sunlight, as if he was checking a drawn baths temperature. Delighted he jumped into its glow, before the hospitals hallway materialised before his light-stained eyes. With a twitch, he came into focus. 
 
 I'm... I'm free?! He didnt know how or why but he bolted from the room. His bare feet slapping against the cold floor, echoing into the empty expanse. The light, the slight breeze, the cool floor. Everything was better, damn even the air tasted sweeter. The atrophy he suffered from basically no excercise for god knows how long left him breathless. 
 
 With a last look he turned to face his prison. It was essentially a human sized hamster cage. Complete with food and water dispenser, alas, no running wheel. Just as well he was such a danger that this room was specifically designed to hold him, no person was ever allowed to be in the same room as him again. Were there scratches on the other side too? It all started with the dreams, the most horrific dreams of barbaric people chasing down and attacking each other... *And then I came along* the voice said with conviction, succintly finishing his thought, he hated it when he did that. 
 
 With that thought came another... **where is everyone? ** he was so dangerous, yet he just walked free? This time his twitch was more violent, as the details of the delipidated hospital jumped out to him. 
 
 Blood, everywhere. It was delightful, he happily skipped around appreciating the artistry of it all. Lots of blood, yes, yes but where are the bodies? *Why dont we find them? * the voice egged, naturally he thought of it as a game. Sprinting from room to room with a loud `` A-HA!'' with every open door he pouted at the emptiness within. Yet as he approached the very last door, he could hear muffled groans beyond. Much to the detest of the voice, Jon snapped out of it. 
 
 It took Jon a moment to take stock of his surroundings. The blood sickened him, it all felt too familiar. He turned to see blood spattered foot prints dotted around the hallway, stopping at every door but the one in front of him. Finally, he heard the groans. He filled with excitement, it had been *years* since he had last met someone, even been within speaking range... *Open it, open it! * the voice urged, and with a trembling hand ( and a bizarre urge to shout `` A-HA!'' ) He turned the rusted knob. 
 
 The smell hit him first, like nothing even he had smelt before. Rot, decay and a citrussy almost surgical stench invaded his nostrils, which promptly flared and rustled in disgust, yet his curiosity got the better of him. With a ( stifled ) breath and one big push he flung the door open. Even the sound of its rusted hinges screeching nor the loud bang of the knob embedding itself in the decaying drywall could take his eyes off what he saw. 
 
 It was a bad man. Just like the ones in his dreams. The corpse writhed and lashed, snapping its jaw fervently at the sight and smell of him. He stayed back, but he knew what he had to do. He'd already done it so many times in his nightmares. Tearing off the metal hanger for the corpses curtain he was lucky to snap it with a fine edge. He put the man out of his misery, and for the first time in he forgot how long he felt like there was justice in the world, like he could finally do some good. 
 
 Looks like I have to kill them... *Yes, yes **all** of them* 
 
 Shit, finally something we agree on.
