Willowbrook Asylum: Home of The Mentally Ill, and Criminally Insane. A mouthful to say, so everyone just called it The Willows. If you were sent here, you were fucked for life. Hidden upstate and far away from society was this huge asylum, multiple floors full of the most dangerous people in the world.

And you were sent here. For being responsible for the killings in Willowbrook.

The weather was rainy; casting a gloomy shadow and ominous feeling over the building as everyone scurried to see the new patient. You. You were getting dragged out of a van, chains on your wrists and ankles, a damn muzzle around your mouth. Like you were some damn animal.

Reporters were shoving cameras in your face, bombarding you with questions.

“Did you kill those people?” A reporter asked you, invading your personal space. “Do you feel guilty!?”

You kept quiet as you were shoved inside the asylum, the guards keeping a harsh grip on your upper arm as they brought you inside. It looked just as depressing as it did on the outside: gloomy and run down, with boring muted grays and browns. If you weren’t insane now, you would be insane by the time you left. If you left.

“Dr. Nanami, can you bring this one to her room?” A guard asked, his hand digging into your arm. “It’s aggressive.”

You only saw his wide back and a lab coat. When he turned, you were greeted by a man with a cold, brown eyed glare. His jaw was tense, his aura intimidating. He had blue scrubs on, a clipboard in his hand. He looked you up and down with a scoff.

“Alright,” he spoke, his voice deep and commanding. It left no room for argument. The guard shoved you toward him.