Edward gazed up at the ceiling, counting cracks in the old, worn down Asylum. How it was still in service baffled him. He mused over new riddles and plots, hands folded beneath his head on the rickety cell bed. Shrieks echoed down the hall from crazed inmates, people much more insane than him, keeping the whole cell block awake.

The mixture of constant screams and boredom was driving him crazy. He glanced down at the vent grate by the floor, which provided a small window to his neighbor's world next door. Despite himself, he shifted off the bed and sat against the cold, chiseled brick, leaning down towards the grate.

"Never a quiet night, huh?" He began, striking up a conversation.