The Mad Man Series
0
First Part
The White Room
[size=12]John Flynn is wearing a white restraining jacket, sitting on a white soft sofa staring at the white walls of the room. This is just one of the basic procedures as far as mental facilities go in the country, that is, to sustain a client in a place where any emotional or physical stimuli cannot be triggered.
All of these are for John’s protection, the nurse had said when he was first sent here. And like most of the patients who saw the facility for the first time, John battled and screamed and cried and did everything to stay away from the room. The nurse called in three of his colleagues to help him put John to the place where he belonged to today, and when the door was opened the first nurse pushed him so hard John had fallen on the floor face first.
“But I’m not crazy!” John had screeched back on the first day. “Let me outta here you lazy sons of whores! Let me outta here or I’ll rape your fucking corpse!” But the boys would hear none of it and locked the door.
For two weeks, it has been like that. Whenever John must be fed he would squeal for his sanity, and then a needle would just hit him somewhere in the body, most of the time at the back of his shoulders. His eyes would get all watery and his sight blurry, his muscles would ache for a second and then his limbs would feel lazy, and even if he wants to tell the nurse that he is not insane, he can’t because he can’t move a damn muscle.
If John needs to pee or take a shit, he would do so anywhere in this white fucking room, and when the nurse finds out the nurse would beat him badly when he’s drugged. When it’s time to bath or change clothes, he would be injected again, and by that time there is nothing in the world he can do when a couple of nurses carry him, stripped him, wash and caress his man parts, clothe him, and push him back to the white room again.
John can still remember him, the nurse who pushed him the first day, a pretty blonde boy with a pretty smile. According to his black bar pin, his name is Andrew. John will never forget the name of that young lad.
Annika Giason glanced at her watch. She has been waiting for 15 minutes now, and her patience won’t allow her another minute being wasted. A time wasted is money wasted, her editor had said. When she finally saw a young man wearing a white scrub suit, she stood and instantly extend her hands. “Annika Giason, from People’s Journal.”
“Andrew Dylan. Personal aide to John Flynn,” he shook her hand.
Annika wasn’t wrong. She never was. She is one of the best journalists of this generation has to offer – even her editors say that more often than not. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I really need this story.”
“No prob. I’m done feeding him anyway, there’s nothing left to do until later,” Andrew replied.
Good, Annika thought, and then made her smile which always won the hearts of young men like Andrew Dylan. Just so, she caught the nurse’s eye travel from her eyes down to her plunging neckline. She knows he’s looking for her nipples. Sometimes it won’t hurt to seduce your way out of something. “Okay, so, let me get my facts straight first. His name is John Flynn, age 53, unemployed, detained for having extreme schizophrenia… and, huh, he killed his wife, Melanie D. Flynn, age 37, accountant, and their only teenage daughter, Marian Flynn, age 16, student. Both stabbed to death.”
“And beheaded,” Andrew said.
“And beheaded,” confirmed Annika. “Both their bodies found on the living room of their house, their heads on the fridge. Suspect was said to hit the two with a baseball bat in the head to lose consciousness. The knife and the saw used in the incident are both found on the crime scene. Investigation said there is no motive, no witnesses; neighbors said they hear no screams, no fights.” Annika paused, drew in breath, and let it go in one puff. This is a tough case to which the police have long given up. “Police saw him lying drunk on the floor. He denies everything and said remembers nothing of the incident. Some of the neighbors even said it was a perfect family.”
“No motive, but schizophrenia,” Andrew said.
“But the neighbors and the people who knew John Flynn said-”
“There are unique cases of schizophrenia where symptoms are not palpable, as in the case of John Flynn. There had been more than twenty medical studies on him, all with similar findings. I have personally seen each of them. I’m sure you have that already,” said Andrew.
“Yes,” Annika admitted. She stared at Andrew’s eyes for a second. She’s not sure, but there’s something behind those blue eyes that Annika can’t put her hands on just yet. There’s something in there. She doesn’t know what, but she can feel it. “John Flynn’s parents died of natural death, no other sibling. Melanie, his wife, is an adopted daughter of Gretha and Ricardo Lomi, both are dead as well. The orphanage where Melanie came from said they have no records of Melanie, and they just saw the baby on some trash can near the orphanage.”
“That’s right,” said Andrew. He shifted in his seat and leaned closer to Annika. “Are you going to discuss your research to me, or are you supposed to interview me or something? Not that I’m poking in with your technique but…”
“Of course, of course, I’m sorry,” Annika said. She smiled, but in truth she hates being corrected. She got caught up with the enormous amount of research she has acquired. “Sorry, I should be asking how he is here and what treatments he is under and stuff like that.”
“Oh, sure. To tell you, the treatment for John Flynn is pretty much the same treatment experienced by our other clients having the same degree of schizophrenia. Although yes, it is a case to case basis, John Flynn’s treatment mostly just differs with the medication. And I suppose you want a list of the medicines for John Flynn?”
Annika smiled and nod her head.
“I have his daily schedule all written too, if you want. Here you go.” Andrew produced a paper folded in quarters and gave it to Annika. She reviewed it for a second. She had no idea about the names of the medicines taken by John Flynn, but the schedule of the man’s daily activities was neatly written that it begs suspicion. Or maybe it’s just Annika.
“Hmmmm. He’s been here for two months now, right? Wait, you let him walk on the park, near the facility, for two hours every afternoon?” Annika asked.
“Of course we have to, but not alone. Confining him in a plain white room all day will drive him more to madness,” Andrew said. “I always keep an eye on him anyway, and the other aides are just one snap away if the one needs something. We are proudly well manned in this institution, so you need not to worry.”
Annika scanned the schedule. Everything is so smooth and so clean, she’s sure there’s something wrong with it. Of course, she has researched about the proper handling of people with mental disorders, so she can pretty much say that what the institution is doing to John Flynn is completely normal. Well, according to what this paper says.
“Any problem?” Andrew asked. He was smiling.
“Uhm, can I see him today?”
“No chance of that. You need approval from the seniors, and I can daresay you are just lucky today because they aren’t around. Because if they are, you won’t even have the chance to interview me without their notice.”
“Well,” Annika said, tilting her head to expose her long neck. “Can I get any luckier today?”
Andrew Dylan tilted his head and laughed. She likes this woman, he thought, but there is no chance he can give her what she wants. “Nah. If you want, you can go home today and study your research, and tomorrow get back here and ask for approval. I hope you know the confidentiality rule, especially when it comes to medical records. I gave you some of the names of his medicines, that’s big deal enough.”
Some? Thought Annika, but she let it go. This is just the start of her investigation, anyway. Better to take things slow than destroy it all. “Of course, I’m sorry.” Annika said. “Well, I should better be going. I have more researches to do, and you probably have some errands to run inside.” She stood.
“Leaving already?” Andrew said. “I thought we’re just getting started?”
“Nah. If I want to start something, I want to ball to keep on rolling. I’ll be back, and by that time I’m sure as hell I will see John Flynn, of course with the approval.”
“Well, maybe you’re free tonight? I know a good restaurant where we can talk to?” Andrew said.
As expected, thought Annika. This always happen during her investigations, and most of the time, this is the best way to get the information she wanted. She smiled sweetly, and agreed on a lavish dinner later at 8.
Nurse Andrew Dylan went inside the building to see how John Flynn is doing. Just as always, he is sitting in the corner again, knees pressed on his face. Through the small rectangular glass, Andrew can see the only man in the world who is capable of killing his wife and his only daughter, and at that time he felt both aspiration and pity for John Flynn.
He has been his patient for two months now, and he knows that he will still be his patient for many years to come. He stepped back and was about to walk away when he caught a movement from the corner of his eyes. When Andrew turned his head to peek at the glass again, he saw John Flynn standing straight looking at him, and then he cried.[/h]
The White Room
[size=12]John Flynn is wearing a white restraining jacket, sitting on a white soft sofa staring at the white walls of the room. This is just one of the basic procedures as far as mental facilities go in the country, that is, to sustain a client in a place where any emotional or physical stimuli cannot be triggered.
All of these are for John’s protection, the nurse had said when he was first sent here. And like most of the patients who saw the facility for the first time, John battled and screamed and cried and did everything to stay away from the room. The nurse called in three of his colleagues to help him put John to the place where he belonged to today, and when the door was opened the first nurse pushed him so hard John had fallen on the floor face first.
“But I’m not crazy!” John had screeched back on the first day. “Let me outta here you lazy sons of whores! Let me outta here or I’ll rape your fucking corpse!” But the boys would hear none of it and locked the door.
For two weeks, it has been like that. Whenever John must be fed he would squeal for his sanity, and then a needle would just hit him somewhere in the body, most of the time at the back of his shoulders. His eyes would get all watery and his sight blurry, his muscles would ache for a second and then his limbs would feel lazy, and even if he wants to tell the nurse that he is not insane, he can’t because he can’t move a damn muscle.
If John needs to pee or take a shit, he would do so anywhere in this white fucking room, and when the nurse finds out the nurse would beat him badly when he’s drugged. When it’s time to bath or change clothes, he would be injected again, and by that time there is nothing in the world he can do when a couple of nurses carry him, stripped him, wash and caress his man parts, clothe him, and push him back to the white room again.
John can still remember him, the nurse who pushed him the first day, a pretty blonde boy with a pretty smile. According to his black bar pin, his name is Andrew. John will never forget the name of that young lad.
------------------------------------------
Annika Giason glanced at her watch. She has been waiting for 15 minutes now, and her patience won’t allow her another minute being wasted. A time wasted is money wasted, her editor had said. When she finally saw a young man wearing a white scrub suit, she stood and instantly extend her hands. “Annika Giason, from People’s Journal.”
“Andrew Dylan. Personal aide to John Flynn,” he shook her hand.
Annika wasn’t wrong. She never was. She is one of the best journalists of this generation has to offer – even her editors say that more often than not. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but I really need this story.”
“No prob. I’m done feeding him anyway, there’s nothing left to do until later,” Andrew replied.
Good, Annika thought, and then made her smile which always won the hearts of young men like Andrew Dylan. Just so, she caught the nurse’s eye travel from her eyes down to her plunging neckline. She knows he’s looking for her nipples. Sometimes it won’t hurt to seduce your way out of something. “Okay, so, let me get my facts straight first. His name is John Flynn, age 53, unemployed, detained for having extreme schizophrenia… and, huh, he killed his wife, Melanie D. Flynn, age 37, accountant, and their only teenage daughter, Marian Flynn, age 16, student. Both stabbed to death.”
“And beheaded,” Andrew said.
“And beheaded,” confirmed Annika. “Both their bodies found on the living room of their house, their heads on the fridge. Suspect was said to hit the two with a baseball bat in the head to lose consciousness. The knife and the saw used in the incident are both found on the crime scene. Investigation said there is no motive, no witnesses; neighbors said they hear no screams, no fights.” Annika paused, drew in breath, and let it go in one puff. This is a tough case to which the police have long given up. “Police saw him lying drunk on the floor. He denies everything and said remembers nothing of the incident. Some of the neighbors even said it was a perfect family.”
“No motive, but schizophrenia,” Andrew said.
“But the neighbors and the people who knew John Flynn said-”
“There are unique cases of schizophrenia where symptoms are not palpable, as in the case of John Flynn. There had been more than twenty medical studies on him, all with similar findings. I have personally seen each of them. I’m sure you have that already,” said Andrew.
“Yes,” Annika admitted. She stared at Andrew’s eyes for a second. She’s not sure, but there’s something behind those blue eyes that Annika can’t put her hands on just yet. There’s something in there. She doesn’t know what, but she can feel it. “John Flynn’s parents died of natural death, no other sibling. Melanie, his wife, is an adopted daughter of Gretha and Ricardo Lomi, both are dead as well. The orphanage where Melanie came from said they have no records of Melanie, and they just saw the baby on some trash can near the orphanage.”
“That’s right,” said Andrew. He shifted in his seat and leaned closer to Annika. “Are you going to discuss your research to me, or are you supposed to interview me or something? Not that I’m poking in with your technique but…”
“Of course, of course, I’m sorry,” Annika said. She smiled, but in truth she hates being corrected. She got caught up with the enormous amount of research she has acquired. “Sorry, I should be asking how he is here and what treatments he is under and stuff like that.”
“Oh, sure. To tell you, the treatment for John Flynn is pretty much the same treatment experienced by our other clients having the same degree of schizophrenia. Although yes, it is a case to case basis, John Flynn’s treatment mostly just differs with the medication. And I suppose you want a list of the medicines for John Flynn?”
Annika smiled and nod her head.
“I have his daily schedule all written too, if you want. Here you go.” Andrew produced a paper folded in quarters and gave it to Annika. She reviewed it for a second. She had no idea about the names of the medicines taken by John Flynn, but the schedule of the man’s daily activities was neatly written that it begs suspicion. Or maybe it’s just Annika.
“Hmmmm. He’s been here for two months now, right? Wait, you let him walk on the park, near the facility, for two hours every afternoon?” Annika asked.
“Of course we have to, but not alone. Confining him in a plain white room all day will drive him more to madness,” Andrew said. “I always keep an eye on him anyway, and the other aides are just one snap away if the one needs something. We are proudly well manned in this institution, so you need not to worry.”
Annika scanned the schedule. Everything is so smooth and so clean, she’s sure there’s something wrong with it. Of course, she has researched about the proper handling of people with mental disorders, so she can pretty much say that what the institution is doing to John Flynn is completely normal. Well, according to what this paper says.
“Any problem?” Andrew asked. He was smiling.
“Uhm, can I see him today?”
“No chance of that. You need approval from the seniors, and I can daresay you are just lucky today because they aren’t around. Because if they are, you won’t even have the chance to interview me without their notice.”
“Well,” Annika said, tilting her head to expose her long neck. “Can I get any luckier today?”
Andrew Dylan tilted his head and laughed. She likes this woman, he thought, but there is no chance he can give her what she wants. “Nah. If you want, you can go home today and study your research, and tomorrow get back here and ask for approval. I hope you know the confidentiality rule, especially when it comes to medical records. I gave you some of the names of his medicines, that’s big deal enough.”
Some? Thought Annika, but she let it go. This is just the start of her investigation, anyway. Better to take things slow than destroy it all. “Of course, I’m sorry.” Annika said. “Well, I should better be going. I have more researches to do, and you probably have some errands to run inside.” She stood.
“Leaving already?” Andrew said. “I thought we’re just getting started?”
“Nah. If I want to start something, I want to ball to keep on rolling. I’ll be back, and by that time I’m sure as hell I will see John Flynn, of course with the approval.”
“Well, maybe you’re free tonight? I know a good restaurant where we can talk to?” Andrew said.
As expected, thought Annika. This always happen during her investigations, and most of the time, this is the best way to get the information she wanted. She smiled sweetly, and agreed on a lavish dinner later at 8.
------------------------------------------
Nurse Andrew Dylan went inside the building to see how John Flynn is doing. Just as always, he is sitting in the corner again, knees pressed on his face. Through the small rectangular glass, Andrew can see the only man in the world who is capable of killing his wife and his only daughter, and at that time he felt both aspiration and pity for John Flynn.
He has been his patient for two months now, and he knows that he will still be his patient for many years to come. He stepped back and was about to walk away when he caught a movement from the corner of his eyes. When Andrew turned his head to peek at the glass again, he saw John Flynn standing straight looking at him, and then he cried.[/h]
0
First, considering that this is a multiple part story, thou should put the parts in spoiler tags to compress the length of the post.
Second, there are some typos and tense problems.
Third, Andrew's weird, though I do like how John referred to him as "a pretty blonde with a pretty smile" because of the parallelism. Also, Andrew could get fired and blackmailed.
Second, there are some typos and tense problems.
Third, Andrew's weird, though I do like how John referred to him as "a pretty blonde with a pretty smile" because of the parallelism. Also, Andrew could get fired and blackmailed.
0
Spoiler:
Well I'm glad you still remember me after, like what, 2 years? I'm good. I haven't been posting but I'm reading stuff in here. I actually read some of your writings Leo, maybe I'll put in some remarks later. I particularly liked the last one I've read. The one with the meaning of 'cold', I can't remember the title. It's good.
0
leonard267
FAKKU Non-Writer
Chronus14 wrote...
Spoiler:
Well I'm glad you still remember me after, like what, 2 years? I'm good. I haven't been posting but I'm reading stuff in here. I actually read some of your writings Leo, maybe I'll put in some remarks later. I particularly liked the last one I've read. The one with the meaning of 'cold', I can't remember the title. It's good.
Here are one or two threads related to the Winter Contest that I wished you took part in.
https://www.fakku.net/forums/writing-and-fanfiction/winter-writing-contest-wrap-up-campaigning-and-mudslinging
https://www.fakku.net/forums/writing-and-fanfiction/winter-contest-entry-2013-an-analysis
PS: I commend the story that you wrote especially the introduction that explains what is going on. There were two sentences I could not understand though:
Andrew Dylan tilted his head and laughed. She likes this woman, he thought, but there is no chance he can give her what she wants.
Who is the woman you are referring to? The madman's wife or daughter? Andrew's superiors?
Through the small rectangular glass, Andrew can see the only man in the world who is capable of killing his wife and his only daughter, and at that time he felt both aspiration and pity for John Flynn.
Does Andrew aspire to be this madman? I've read in a dictionary that aspiration means removing fluids from the body with a device but I doubt if Andrew could feel it. I would use 'admiration' though if it is the former.