Graveyard Shift

Summary "It's official, I'm desperate for cash." A young girl in need of money to continue her education takes up a job at the local Wawanakwa mental institute. The job is as weird as it should be, but when she takes the night shift, it's about to get weirder. Mature Duncan/Courtney

Author Cereal-Killa

Fandom Total Drama Series- Duncan/Courtney

Warnings Lemon in later chapters- Language- AU- Etc.

Length 2/3-shot.

Status Side project

Published Monday. November 28, 2011

Bridgette lays the tall black coffee by the register, shaking her head as Courtney puts down a five dollar bill. "It's on the house this time." The brunette doesn't smile but her eyes twinkle like they always do when she's amused. "You have to stay up all night, right? You're gonna need that coffee."

Courtney knows that Bridgette would have made the drink on the house whether or not she was working night shift but plays along anyways. The blonde girl has always given her free coffee ever since she first started working at the place. "Yup. First all-nighter, who would've thought I'd actually stay there that long?" She exchanges a few more words with her best friend before leaving the coffee house and zipping her jacket up tighter.

The snow has been coming down in heavier and heavier amounts ever since September began. It is unusual for the first snow to come so early in the year but Courtney doesn't question it. She enjoys the white color, the way the tiny flakes feel as they touch her skin just to melt back to a liquid form. She loves the way her shoes felt crunching in it and how the barren trees look with small icicles hanging from a branch.

And for once, she is happy with the way her life is going. Things have only been getting better and better since she started working at Wawanakwa, the local mental institute for the certifiably insane.

Of course, when she thinks about it like that, it sounds absolutely awful, as though it's a terrible place to work but she knows it's truly not.

It had been a month prior when she had started on her job hunt, something she had never had to do before. Courtney had worked at her father's business since she was sixteen years old, but thanks to a long dispute between the both of them she had been fired and had yet to see or hear from him since. She acts like it doesn't bother her, though it's obvious to people close to her that it cuts her deeply that her own father would basically throw her out of the line which had been leading her to rule the successful company.

Anyway, Courtney looked high and low for a job until she had literally been left stumped. Like, literally sitting on a tree stump. How ironic, really. That was when, out of nowhere, she swears, a sheet of paper came flying at her face, causing her to curse and fall off the stump and start tearing at said sheet. Then she read what was on the paper and, reluctantly, went to go see what this was all about.

And that was how she had come across the incredible job. All things considered, it really is decent. Her boss is the power hungry Chris who doesn't bother her about much of anything as long as she does her job. All she had to do was make sure the patients took their medicine and ate their food- it was as simple as that.

Of course, there had been a few incidents where freaky shit happened. Once, a young male patient had a breakdown and he was sent downstairs, otherwise known as the place where Courtney and other lowly nurses are not allowed to enter. Not as though Courtney wants to.

But, all in all, normal as a mental institute could be. Of course, she has always worked the day shift.

Now, it was time for the haunting to begin. She has to stifle a laugh at the thought. Everyone is always telling her that it's weird down there. Two guards for the whole section, which consisted of about fifteen to twenty patients. These patients are the ones kept in the padded cells, some in strait jackets- basically, the insane non-trustworthy freaks.

The graveyard shift meant that Courtney may have to fill in if anything went amiss or if one of the guards had to leave, meaning she would have to leave her safe post upstairs and enter the hell that held rumors that tend to give small children nightmares.

It really does excite her.

Wawanakwa is a pretty big place, considering that it holds all the crazies from the city and a little bit further. Courtney was amazed when she had first gotten here. Who would've known that this many people were considered certifiably insane?

Alejandro, one of the male nurses, walks up to Courtney with a brilliant smile. This is another reason that Courtney likes her job- who would've thought that someone this attractive would work here? He is always flirting with her, the kind of flirting that makes a girl sigh dreamily on the inside- oh yeah, you know the feeling.

"Senorita, you have to take downstairs tonight. Ask Hatchet how things work and you'll be good to go." He winks at her, and she almost asks what he's doing on Saturday before he dashes around the corner. She lets out a deep breath and slumps down. Looking to the stairs which lead downward into the so called depths of hell, she slips out of her jacket and shrugs in her customary scrubs. Back to the old grind.

The downstairs area isn't all that freaky in itself.

Okay, she's lying, it's giving her the fucking chills just being down here. Something smells weird like some health code isn't up to date, and sunlight doesn't get in since its underground unlike the rest of the facility. Upstairs always seemed friendly and inviting, like they were curing you to help you get a second chance. Down here the atmosphere was more like when someone had given up and just forgotten the problem.

The rows of cells form a straight line before curving, and she tries to ignore the noises coming from each cell as she walks down the hall. Moans are heard, curses, screaming, but what scares her the most has to be the insane, manic laughter coming from cell twelve. It's husky, deep, but utterly entertained. She goes over to the door and slides the small slit that lets her look through before yelping and shutting it back as fast as she can.

She lets out another yelp when someone shouts at her from down the hall. "Maggot! Get over here so I can teach ya the rules!" She follows the sound of Hatchet's voice and tries not to dwell on what she just saw.

The way those dark teal eyes had been right beside the peep hole, like he had known she was going to look, scared the ever loving shit out of her. The laughter continues as Hatchet starts listing off rules to her, and she does her best not to think about it, which isn't working at all.

Courtney has learned that, really, the night shift is fucking boring.

All she has done is switch with Hatchet every thirty minutes, in which one of them sits at the desk waiting for phone calls and the other roams the halls, patrolling and making sure no one got too crazy in one of their cells. Of course, no one has yet, making for one boring three hours with- oh, joy- four more to go. She sighs audibly at her spot in the desk chair.

She then hears the phone go off, causing her to jump. Finally, something exciting. Sadly, when she answers the phone, it isn't for her. "Can I speak to Hatchet, please?" Her boss, Mr. McClean, is a rather shady man. His voice is a purr but she knows better than to trust it.

Nodding, she calls for Hatchet down the hallway, causing a large echo to reverberate throughout the hall. Hatchet comes from behind the corner, snatching the phone from her hand before muttering so quietly she doesn't at all catch what he's saying. She hears Chris say something back but at his words Hatchet only nods (as though McClean could see it) and hangs up the phone. He then turns to Courtney, a thick scowl on his face. "Ya good to hold the post down here on yer lonesome for a half hour?"

She feels her throat go dry, but he cuts her off before she can complain. "Chris needs help on some very important business, unless ya wanna go and question him…"

"No!" She replies quickly, not at all willing to lose her job yet so early in the game. "I'm sure I'll be fine…" She looks around the rows of dark cells and gulps. "Just thirty minutes?"

"Promise." Hatchet swears, chuckling darkly as he goes back around the hallway and opens the door to the staircase only to slam it shut a few seconds later.

She's scared shitless. Hoping that the term 'they can smell fear' isn't true in this situation, she sits at the desk and fiddles with some paperwork that she can't seem to focus on. For some reason, the block of cells has gone eerily quiet. She tries not to hyperventilate.

I mean, for god sakes, she thinks. Get a grip, Courtney! She is always the brave one when compared to people, the one who is always willing to take on a challenge! This does not scare her, no, not in the least.

Of course, now she has to make a round around the cells again. She tries not to acknowledge the fact that her stomach has dropped to the soles of her feet and grabs her flashlight, walking down the aisle.

She is passing the last cells in the block when she hears it.

So yer new here, tha' right?

She looks all around and tries to figure out where the voice is coming from. She can't tell, the voice is thick, deep, but not coming from any direction in particular. In fact, the voice seems like it's coming from-

Inside yer head.

She places a hand over her mouth to keep from screaming, What the fuck is going on? She's going crazy, that's the only answer, she's caught whatever these people in here have that makes them utterly insane…

Princess, I ain't off my rocker, not yet. Yer not delusional, I really am speakin' ta ya.

She can feel the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. Now she can only pray she is mental.

If ya open up cell twelve, I can speak ta ya directly, no more of this mind reading bullshit. It kinda hurts ta do, ya know, hurts my head.

I ain't gonna hurt ya. Look inside the cell, I'm all tied up, couldn't do shit if I wanted ta.

Cell twelve? It was the same one she had heard the maniacal laughter from before, but she can't help but walk a few steps toward the door. She really doesn't want to be crazy, doesn't want to be going crazy, it was just one shift, one shift and she didn't want to be losing it already!

…What could it hurt to just take a peek?

She slides the small slit open and looks inside for the second time that night, seeing a dark, shadowed form in the corner, their body wrapped in a strait jacket and barefoot feet shackled. She scares herself when she feels the set of keys Hatchet entrusted her with twirling between her fingers.

Well, ya can't even see me from there, sweetheart. Ya gotta come in so I can see yer pretty face, come on, let a poor soul know who his guardian angel is, I promise I ain't gonna hurt ya, won't put a scratch anywhere on yer pretty little frame.

The voice inside her head is like velvet, husky and convincing. It sounded like a voice that should be reserved for the bedroom, the way it swivels in her head like a river, wrapping around her mind in rivets. Before she even knows what she is doing, the key has turned in the lock and the door is cracked.

She stares at the door for several moments before the luscious voice returns.

Now come on in, love. I'm just a man, nothing more.

Nothing more, she thinks, of course. That's why I'm hearing a voice in my head, because you're nothing but just a man in a strait jacket.

And yet she still finds herself toeing the door open.

Moonlight sinks in from the barred window, making everything else have a faint glowing tinge. The padded walls aren't their usual bright white in the darkness, looking more like a dark gray of a faded cloud. He is sitting with his back to the corner of the cell, and she can still only see his bright teal eyes from this distance. They are mocking her, crazed looking eyes, as if seeing straight through her.

"Princess, come on. I can't see ya from was over there." Courtney finds herself slinking toward the voice, her body moving of its accord. In her head, this is wrong. In her mind, this is a death trap.

But in her heart, it feels like an angel is calling her. His voice is so soft, ever so soft…

She is only five steps away when she finally sees his face.

He is wearing the standard white pants and white shirt, except the long sleeves have been hidden from view due to the strait jacket. His mouth is spread in a thin smirk, his eyes wide, his body obviously toned and his skin a soft peach. He has shaggy black hair and a streak of green running down the middle, a sharp jaw bone and pierced face. His eyes grow dark and the smirk grows wider.

Then he's on her.

Unfortunately, I cannot promise to have another chapter of this out soon… I was a bit wary about putting it out, anyway. It promises a lemon, and a lemon there shall be. But I can promise that the next chapter and the possible one after than will be way longer!

Obviously, I'm hoping this idea has not been done already. It seems pretty damn original to me… And yes. Duncan is something supernatural, but it's not something stupid like a vampire or anything. More will come about that entire business next chapter.

Ah, yes, speaking of vampires… I saw Breaking Dawn, and I gotta say, it was beyond decent. It was actually (dare I say) good. Much better than the other movies, to say the least.

Just to be clear, when I say lemon, I mean sexual content, which means penis. And vagina. Among other things! :) Chance to back out is right up there (you know, that little back button in the upper left-hand corner?).

If you are planning to stick with the story, yay, I love you! :D

Also, forgive me for the ridiculously long authors note… I'm a bit talkative at the moment.

Review please!

Love, Cereal