Assessment:

-Anti-social behaviour

-Nil emotional response, lack of empathy and/or remorse

-High risk of violence and dangerous behaviour (multiple unprovoked assaults)

-Resistant to all treatment options. Refuses to engage

Findings: Minimal chance of rehabilitation

Treatment: If patient remains the same twelve months into sentence, advised lobotomy

I lifted a brow, perusing the assessment notes from the previous shrink. I didn’t know the circumstances of their abrupt departure, although I could hazard a guess. Oakview had a high staff turnover rate, the previous two psychiatrists lasting six weeks altogether (not that I was supposed to be privy to that information).

Either way, I didn’t care. The dangers and risks were nothing compared to what I’d experienced. I was here for one job only. More specifically, one person only.

I will not fail.

There was a quick rap at the door before a tall male swaggered through the archway. He assessed me with hunger, his porcelain veneers gleaming a winning grin.

“I’m Mr Burner, Manager of Oakview. We spoke on the phone.”

We shook hands, his fingers lingering longer than necessary. I plastered on a fake smile while discreetly rubbing my palm clean over my thigh. “A pleasure to be a part of the team, Mr Burner.”

We made small talk—the generic bullshit normal people pretended to care about—as he presented the grand tour.

Burner’s pristine image was comical, in complete contrast to his surroundings: coiffed blonde hair, accompanied by an expensive suit two sizes too small.

“I must say, you look young for your age,” he said. “Your resume was extraordinary. You shone above all other applicants.” The compliment fell short, due to there being no other applicants.

I’d nearly killed Spencer when she’d submitted my fake credentials. She’d added an extra ten years to my twenty, alongside other ridiculous qualifications. Thankfully, no one had dug up an old trumpet…the mission would have been compromised immediately.

“Protection and safety are of the utmost importance,” he rambled on. “There are cameras running 24/7 in all communal areas. Due to confidentiality, we can’t place surveillance within individual rooms. If you feel unsafe at any time, please alert Fern.”

I feigned interest, nodding at appropriate pauses, when a distinct bell rang through the speakers, announcing lunch.

“Let me take you to the cafeteria. You can get a glimpse of your patients. After that, we can get more acquainted in my office.” He pressed a hand to my lower spine, directing me forward.

Bile rose in the back of my throat and I flexed my fingers to prevent them from dislocating his own. My family would be unhappy if I committed homicide on the first day. Containing my rage, I twisted out of reach, trailing after him into the bustling space.

I scanned the area, taking stock of my surroundings. Possible exits, potential threats. Always a necessity when entering a new environment—especially a room filled with crazy people.

My eyes seemed to gravitate to the farthest corner of the room, something lingering in the depths seeking me out. Then my gaze locked with two of the darkest orbs I’d ever seen, swallowing me whole in their bottomless depths. I was gripped by a predator hiding in the brush. The prime hunter of the facility, I had no doubt. I had found what I was looking for, but it was far more sinister than I’d ever imagined.

Psycho.

I was stunned, completely taken over by the irrational thought to move closer and seek comfort in the tattooed arms of my own destruction. As I was about to take a step towards him, Burner cut into my wayward thoughts.

“Shall I show you the dorms? They’re off to the right here.” I clutched onto the distraction and broke away from the stranger’s intoxicating hold.

I have to see him again.

That was my last thought before I could snap sanity into my brain once more.

I blindly tracked Burner’s steps to escape, the vivid image of Psycho playing back in my mind, mocking me with intrigue.

Biting hard into my tongue, salty, metallic blood saturated my mouth, the pain and taste pulling me out of my hypnotic state.

I would not falter. Whatever that was, it had no place here.

PSYCHO

Shrouded in shadow, I straddled the corner bench of the mess hall, one of my many haunts. Tipping my chin high, I pushed the unappetising meal to the side, instead lighting a cigarette for sustenance. Nicotine laced my veins as I perused the cafeteria with tedious boredom. My knee bounced, deciding whether to remain on this bench or—shocker—sit on the bench outside, torrential rain and all.

Inmates were whispering about the new psychiatrist. Crazy motherfuckers believed themselves to be clever, scaring them all away, not realising they’d never be redeemed with the constant revolving door of shrinks if they weren’t cleared of their insanity.

Who am I kidding? Not one person in this asylum would ever be discharged, least of all me.

Unlike them, my incarceration was by choice…I couldn’t decide if that was better or worse.

From my initial sentence ten months ago, everyone knew to stay the hell away from me. If they didn’t, they learnt fast (if they managed to survive the aftermath, that is).

Tilting my head back to the dreary ceiling, I exhaled a thick stream of smoke, wishing for any reprieve to break the monotony of inmate life.

The main door buzzed from the far side of the room, the perfect time for Manager Burner to lead the new psychiatrist around for a tour. The atmosphere charged as inmates attempted to stay low-key (as if being a mentally unstable person locked up in a high-security prison could ever be considered low-key).

I huffed at the fresh excitement. Another wannabe do-gooder using the sinners of society in an attempt to make themselves feel better. I yawned at the predictable mentality.

Burner swiped through the last remaining security door, leading the newcomer into the lion’s den. Giving me my first unobstructed view of the goddess behind him.

I choked, inhaling sharply on my cigarette, the vapour catching in my throat. I swiped my eyes—suddenly lined with water—not wanting to lose sight of my marked target.

She was fucking gorgeous. Her bronzed skin shone against her professional, figure-hugging suit, the fabric stretching from her neck all the way down to her ankles. Black heels clicked in tune with the prominent pounding in my ears, her shining brown hair tied in a low ponytail trailing down her back, accompanied by glowing amber eyes that were now transfixed in my direction.

She couldn’t possibly see me, my solitary corner so dark and shaded, no light could ever penetrate. But there she was, on the opposite side of the room, staring across the expanse directly into my fucking soul.

I leant forward ever so slowly, elbows resting on my knees. Instinctively preparing for the hunt, muscles clenched in anticipation to pursue this newfound prey.

I wanted to taste her skin. I wanted to drink her blood. I wanted to claim and simultaneously destroy this innocuous being.

Burner must have said something, as her captivated gaze shifted from mine, her attention now waning elsewhere as she was led through the next corridor to the dorms.

My body vibrated with unrelenting pressure, ready to strike, ready for action. I clenched my fists to prevent chasing after her.

Patience. The minimum requirement for the ultimate pursuit.