|Apprentic: Willard: My master forever
Author: eatingyoualive PM
After years of suffering at the asylum, Willard gets freedom and takes revenge on the family of the asylum's employiesRated: Fiction T - English - Adventure/Hurt/Comfort - Chapters: 2 - Words: 2,345 - Reviews: 3 - Favs: 3 - Follows: 1 - Published: 02-01-08 - id: 4047951
|A+ A- Full 3/4 1/2 Expand Tighten|
Leading Actor: Crispin Glover
Fiction rating: M
Main Characters (order of appearance): Ria (original) Willard,
Time(beginning scene): A year after entering the asylum
Actual Summary: After many years, tormented by employees and suffering from malnutrition, Willard gets well deserved freedom and takes revenge on the families of those employees.
Note: In the "Actual Summary" I think that putting the part about Ria will sorta ruin it… so yeah… Big… Obsessive… Crispin Glover fan… so… I dunno… I'm hoping it doesn't go all Mary Sue… Cuz of the original Character… But the story line eludes to this one part in Sin City, And that a was a pretty big part…heh… on with amature fanfiction….
The place reeked to some of bitter almonds, or old people, or dirty laundry, or even all of it mixed together, but it was always sprinkled with a bit of the scent of human and animal decay.
To little Ria, the smell smelt of bitter almonds and dirty laundry and of course a bit of decay. But it was faint to her, so she didn't really scrunch her face up when she walked through the doors of the tauntingly white asylum. Or when she walked behind the bulk in white scrub uniforms that lead her through the messy rec room. Amazing really, because all the furniture was permanently scented with bile.
She looked out the barred window and saw daybreak, blues blending into dark blue. She liked to imitate it in her coloring book. Not caring for the bold lines that were pre-made to color in. Sketch books were "Too expensive" for someone who worked full time at an asylum…
As an old woman walked pass little Ria she bent down and kissed her forehead and said in a cracking voice "Good night Kristin, my darling daughter!" She turned away and coughed violently bringing up blood and attracting the man in white scrub's attention.
"Bobby Joe, you need to get to your room!" Ria's father barked. He grabbed the elderly woman's arm roughly and dragged her down the hallway. Screaming and twisting, Bobby Joe screamed as a sickening crack issued and an arm dangled at her side in a most gruesome way. "Oi! Bobby Joe broke her arm again! Oi? OI! SOME ONE GET THE HELL OVER HERE!" the man's voice echoed down the gray hallways as ditzy nurses streamed in. Ria shrugged and walked down the opposite hallway.
She walked down this corridor because it held her seven-year-old attention span with a vice like grip. It held people who could only go out on good behavior, the homicidal wackos, those who were driven over the edge.
Ria sat between cell door 756, which held a teenager girl with three distinct personalities, and 758, a thirty-year-old man quiet and lashed out with any object. Across was cell and empty cell, 757, it was to be filled yesterday but something prolonged it. It was unlocked and the door was ajar to spark the interest of little Ria.
Walking in she made herself comfortable in a cozy corner. She took out crayons and coloring books and began to color the dawn sky over a happy caterpillar.
Her father didn't really pay attention to her. He assumed that after a fifteen minute talk before every trip to his work about "the crazies that will come out and gut you and eat you before daddy can come and save you." And to add a little kick, "just like mommy," always ensured the fear.