I didn't do it.
Okay, maybe I did. All the evidence points in that direction. But I don't remember doing it.
I remember wanting to kill the bitch. I remember her taunting me, provoking me as my rage built up and blurred my vision.
And I remember standing over her lifeless body with the cops closing in around me,
But I don't actually remember killing her.
I didn't really know her, but I know she killed a friend of mine. She told me.
But the police don't believe me. The jury doesn't believe me. The judge doesn't believe me. My lawyer doesn't fucking believe me.
I don't know if I believe me anymore.
The blood looked like shadows, soaking into the carpet.
I was all set to plead not guilty, but my lawyer (the bastard) took one look at the evidence, listened to my testimony, and decided to plead insanity. Or mental instability. I don't give a fuck.
So I ended up here, in some fucking institute for the criminally insane.
I think I would've preferred prison.
Apparently I strangled her as well. That would explain her blue face and rolled up eyes. And my sore thumbs.
I don't know why I killed her (if I did) because I'm normally a rather laidback person. Okay, I'm lazy. Whatever the fuck you wanna call it. But anyway, it's not like me to do anything I would term as troublesome (which is everything bar sleeping and occasionally eating). And it's not really in my nature to do anything drastic (and what could be more drastic than killing a person?).
So now I'm in this shithole.
My room sucks. The entertainment sucks. The clothes suck. The guards suck. The 'doctors' suck. Now I'm at my first meal. And guess what? The food sucks.
Yep. I'm gonna hate it here.
As I stared glumly at my plate of slop (I think pigs get fed better), someone sat opposite me. I instinctively looked up. It was blonde. It had blue eyes. It had a really weird hairstyle. It was female. It was attractive. It was grinning.
"You're new here."
Wow, she had a sexy voice.
Hey, I might be lazy, but I do notice these things.
Just like I noticed that the grin was rather unnerving.
"What're you in for?" she asked. I shrugged.
"Apparently I murdered someone."
Her laugh was pretty nice too.
"Apparently? Well, is it a yes or a no?" She sounded amused. I shrugged again.
"Who the fuck knows? All the evidence points to yes, so I probably did, but I can't remember. And you?" This was fucking crazy. We were carrying this conversation on as if we were discussing what we had for dinner the night before.
She casually lifted one shoulder and let it drop. "Oh, I murdered some people."
I started. "More than one? How many?"
That creepy grin was back.
"Three. On my own."
I couldn't imagine killing three people. Although, I couldn't even imagine killing one person, and it seemed I had.
"I got caught on the last one. I guess we might have gone a little overboard," she continued.
I squinted at her. "I thought you said you worked alone."
"I do," she replied, "But this one was a special hit."
"Hit?" I laughed, "You talk like you're an assassin. Who was it?"
"My father," she replied casually.
My next sentence died in my throat. Who the fuck was messed up enough to kill their family?
She caught sight of the face, and the disbelief/horror I was feeling must have shown on my face because she smirked at me.
"Oh, don't look so revolted," she told me, "He was a fucking bastard anyway."
…I'm guessing they didn't have the best relationship, then.
"But I didn't do much. Gaara was the one who really fucked him up. Which is actually a good thing. Gaara had the most anger." This was too fucked up for words.
"Who's Gaara?" I just had to ask.
"My little brother. He's also here. But he's in the high security wing," she answered.
"High security?" She had killed three- four people and he was in high security?
She nodded. "Yeah. They've got him in a straitjacket and muzzle, because he really went over the edge and freaked out. On bad days they tend to feed him through an intravenous injection because if they take the muzzle off he tries to bite them. But he's really a great guy."
I think by that point I was leaning away slightly. Can you really blame me?
I snorted. "I'm sure. So you two killed your father together?" I didn't know I was so morbid, but I wanted to know more.
"Well, Kankurou too. But he didn't do too much, and besides, he didn't have a history, so he's just in prison with conspiracy to commit. I think he's getting out on parole soon. He's still getting counseling from the same doctor as Gaara and I, even though Baki is actually affiliated with the institute."
"And who's Kankurou?" I just knew what the answer was gonna be…
"My other brother." …and I was right. Yep.
What a supremely fucked up family.
"So… I'm guessing Gaara also had a history?" I should've really stopped asking questions. I really should've. But their story fascinated me. She fascinated me.
"Well… yeah. He ripped a few people up. I mean, what I did was plain in comparison."
"What did you do?"
Her grin grew even more creepy and sadistic. "I cut their heads off and stuffed them. Put them on the mantelpiece. Like hunting trophies." She leant forward on her elbows, locking eyes with me and licking her lips slightly. "Your head would look real good up there."
I almost fell off my chair, shooting it backwards, trying to put some distance between her and I.
"What the fuck, woman!" I yelled, "You're fucking insane!"
Her grin didn't change an inch. "That's why we're in here, isn't it?"
I pressed myself to the back of my chair, still fighting the urge to get up and run away from her.
She laughed; a loud, boisterous, psychotic laugh, as it sounded to my ears.
"God, you're so obviously fresh. That shouldn't freak you out, boy. There are people in here who've done worse."
"None of them have threatened me," I pointed out, still slightly spooked.
"I didn't threaten you. Besides, I didn't actually stuff any heads. It was a joke. I mean, I contemplated it, but the idea only occurred on my last kill, and he was really ugly. And you wouldn't want that hanging around forever." She was smirking, suppressing a laugh, I could see.
"Then what did you do?" I think it's a human thing. Like when there's a horrific accident; everyone wants to be in the front. And once you're there and see the wreckage and bodies and blood or whatever, you can't stand to watch but you can't bear to look away.
"I stabbed them."
How can stabbing someone classify a person as mental? If that were the case it would be most of the people in our criminal system.
"I love the feeling of the blood running over my hands. I love how it looks, the colour. I love the smell of blood. I love the taste of blood," she continued dreamily.
Oh. There's how.
"How'd you end up in here?" I had to ask. I just had to.
She tilted her head to the side, looking damn cute doing it. "I'm not entirely sure. I was pleading guilty, my lawyer was pleading insanity. Guess who the jury sided with?"
…Pleading guilty. That explained it, really.
"I'm Temari, by the way," she said suddenly. Huh. I'd forgotten about that part of formalities.
"Shikamaru," I replied.
"Shikamaru." She rolled my name around in her mouth, tasting every syllable. I'd never liked my name more than when she said it.
She suddenly grinned. "Tell you what, Shikamaru, I'll help you get your footing around here. I'll be your… guide of sorts."
I blinked, surprised. "Um…Okay." I still wasn't going into dark corners with her. Not if there were any sharp objects around.
"Great. Now, you might want to know some of the inmates. That one over there," She pointed to a hyperactive looking blonde. "Is Naruto. He's a good guy, really, just don't piss him off. He has this alter ego thing going on- he calls it his 'inner monster'- and when he gets aggravated he attacks like an animal. Bites people's throats out. The goons- formally known as guards- always keep a wary eye on him." She was right. The guards- goons were keeping an eye on him. I can understand why.
"That's Shino, the drug contact. If you want anything, he can get it for you. Just don't insult bugs." She indicated a guy who seemed to have altered the uniform slightly, pulling the collar up over his lower face. And he was wearing these strange goggle-like sunglasses.
"Why would that be a problem?" It seemed pretty odd.
"He's obsessive. That's why he's in here. He flipped and killed a bug collector- you know, one of those who pin the bugs to boards- and stuffed the man's entire collection down his throat." I winced. That sounded nasty.
"That's Sai." A pale guy. "If anyone's emotionally stunted, it's him. Socially retarded, too. But he paints the most amazing pictures. He uses ink now, but I can only imagine what his other works looked like."
"What did he use then?" If she answers paint, I'm going to hit myself over the head.
"His victims' blood." Shoulda figured it wasn't anything normal.
"That's Sakura." She pointed out one of the very few women that I could see. "She needs anger management. She just kinda flipped out and killed one or two people with her bare hands, I think."
"She's got a thing for one of the guys in the manic depression wing. More commonly known as Suicide Watch. His name's Sasuke. Killed his brother. Personally I think that their doctor should be in here himself. Naruto's mentioned that he has all these emotional problems and background issues, but controls them well. Sai wouldn't notice anything anyway, so we can't go to him for a second opinion."
Mental mental doctors. That makes perfect sense.
"Tenten." A woman with two buns. "She's obsessed with weapons."
I didn't ask for her to elaborate. I wasn't sure I wanted to know.
"That's Hinata. She has a thing for Naruto." The pale-eyed woman sitting by Shino was staring at Naruto. Pretty obvious. "But Naruto's an idiot so he hasn't clicked yet." She paused. "I don't actually know what she's in for. She doesn't speak much."
"That's surprising. You seem to know everything about everyone around here," I commented. She grinned.
"That's because we're like one large, dysfunctional family."
Dysfunctional is right.
"Who's your doctor?" she asked. I racked my brains, trying to remember the name on the sheet that was given to me.
"Some guy called Asuma," I said slowly. She nodded.
"Ah, the smoker. You're sharing him with Chouji." She pointed to a heavyset man snacking on some chips. I recognized the name.
"I think I'm sharing a room with him too. What's he in for?" If I was gonna be living with the guy, I wanted to know.
She shrugged. "I think someone called him fat. And he flipped, and then decided that since meat was so expensive, he could just eat the guy. But he's the sweetest, kindest, gentlest person you will ever meet," she assured me.
Oh, yeah, I'm sure. He fucking ate someone!
For the rest of the day she showed me the little nooks and crannies of the hospital, introduced me to some people and explained the 'team' counseling system to me. It seemed that each doctor had three patients (aside from Kakashi, who had four- Naruto, Sasuke, Sakura and Sai) from different wings around the institute and that in addition to your meeting you had with your doctor every week day, you had a group, or 'team', counseling session every Saturday. She liked it because her 'team' was her and her brothers, so she got to see them every week. I didn't know what to expect. She also told me that we were in the medium risk ward. I didn't know why I was here until she said that it was also known as Murderer's Row because they lumped pretty much all the murderers here. Aside from those like her brother, who was in high security.
When we were told to go to our rooms (I felt like a two year old who'd drawn on his father's important work documents) I went with trepidation to meet my cannibalistic roommate.
He was sitting on his bed, snacking on some more chips. He looked up when I entered.
"You're the newbie. Hi. Chouji Akimichi." He held out his hand, and I shook it hesitantly.
"Shikamaru Nara." He seemed alright.
He heaved a sigh and shook his head. "I saw you hanging around Temari at lunch. She probably told you why I'm here."
"Uh…yeah," I admitted. "She said you'd eaten someone."
He flashed a grin. "Tastes like ostrich." Then his face grew solemn again.
"You're jumping right into the deep end with that one," he told me.
"Who, Temari?" I asked.
He nodded. "If you're not careful she'll eat you up and spit out the bones. Not quite as literally as I did," Small smile. "but nonetheless. She rules this place."
"I got that feeling from her," I acknowledged, sitting down on my bed.
He gave me a few tips Temari had neglected to tell me, and when I went to sleep that night, I was relaxed. He really was a gentle person. Aside from the whole eating a person thing, but he seemed to be over that now. We became fast friends pretty quickly.
One thing I found out about the institute was that as long as no-one killed anyone else, and you went to see your doctor when you were supposed to, you could pretty much do what you wanted. Seeing as most people were in here for life or longer- or until they were 'cured', which was pretty much the same thing, people grew close and knew everyone. As Temari had said, the institute was like one large, dysfunctional family.
I dreamed about killing her that night. The bitch.
I was back in the room, and she was provoking me again. And I snapped. I grabbed her throat and squeezed with relish, watching her choke, her hands scrabbling uselessly at mine, my knuckles turning white from the effort I was putting into it. Her lips turned blue and her eyes rolled backwards into her head as she struggled for breath. I dropped her and she gasped for breath, but I had a knife in my hand and I slashed out before her lips lost their blue tint, I cut her in the stomach and she dropped to the floor screaming. I was on her in a second, strangling her, choking her again, shouting words unintelligible to my ears. She went limp as her oxygen ran out; her eyes rolled upwards, her entire face had a sickly blue sheen. I stabbed her; in the heart, in the throat, again in the stomach, deep stabs, blood flowing out.
And then I was standing back from her, seeing only her back as she lay lifelessly on the floor. I was panting, panting from the exertion, my arms hanging limply at my side, the knife not there anymore.
The blood looked like shadows, soaking into the carpet.
Then she turned around and stood up, only it wasn't her, it was Temari and she was fine, she wasn't hurt, she wasn't dead, and she was holding a shining silver knife.
She was grinning.
She came towards me, stood right in front of me, and stabbed. I looked down, saw her hand holding the knife sticking in my stomach, saw my blood running out the wound, but I didn't feel it, I was fine, I wasn't dying, I was still alive, it didn't hurt. I saw her twist the blade and take it out, covered in blood, but I still didn't feel it, it didn't hurt and she brought the knife up to her face and I followed it with my eyes and her eyes were sparkling and she was grinning and she brought the knife up to her face and she licked it, she licked the blood my blood off the blade and the dark red on her tongue fascinated me as she curled it into her mouth and I didn't feel anything, it didn't hurt, I was fine.
Then she dropped the knife and kissed me and I could taste my blood in her mouth and she tasted so good, and she felt so good and I didn't want this to end, I didn't ever want it to end.
She fiddled with my clothes and I fumbled with hers, feeling as inept as a virgin schoolboy. And then they were off and she was beautiful, oh god, she was beautiful. She was an angel. No; she was a demon, a beautiful seductive demon and I couldn't get enough.
It wasn't a nightmare.
The next day, I met my doctor and my 'team'. Asuma was alright. He smoked a lot, and gave me a cigarette. The third one of my team was a girl from the low risk wing. Her name was Ino, and she was a vapid little cow. But she was okay.
That day, Temari showed me her room. She had somehow managed to get her own room, proving Chouji was right: she ruled this place.
It was a nice room, I think. I didn't pay much attention to it. I had my mind on other things.
We spend a lot of time in her room.
I've come to the conclusion that everyone in the institution are really normal, functioning individuals, and I'm just as sane as the rest of them.
A/N: Yeah. I scare myself. But I hope you enjoyed it. Liked it. Thought it was good. If it freaked you out, please feel free to say so. If you think I'm a nutter, please feel free to say so too. Oh; Gaara. There's this one picture on deviantART which is pretty much exactly how I imagined him here. The link is up on my profile page, so you can just go there and check it out. It's brilliant. So anyway, yeah, the counseling 'teams' are structured as the teams in Naruto are (although who would make Gai a counselor for the criminally insane, I don't know, but whatever) and yes, there would be more people in there, but I don't know who they are and I don't know what anyone else did, but there they are. I don't know who Shikamaru killed (she's sort of an unnamed random) and I don't know who she killed (another unnamed random), they were just necessary for the story.
Anyway, please please please leave a review and tell me what you thought, because, as with Phantom but then again not, this is very much different from anything else I've written.