A Monument To Our Sins; Claythorne Chronicles Part 1

So, Child of Madness and I (Caleb from Gentleman Killers) are writing a story that takes place with my favourite guy to write about (Burton) and a particular patient he has in Claythorne, a mental Asylum in Leeds England during the late seventies to late eighties. It is and will be rather violent and graphic, profanity will and shall be common to see throughout. If you would like to become a co-writer please send a request with the idea you have. I hope you can sit back, enjoy the painful pleasure and the squealing goodness of evil madness.

Please fan and comment! We need more readers and feedback!!

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4. A Girl, A Neurologist, An Unwitting Slave

Winter was in her study glazed over several texts with a furrowed brow and a frustrated expression on her attractive face. She was currently reviewing some information she was familiar with, but it was necessary to deal with her newest subject; Markus. He was to put it lightly, a troublesome asshole. All that boy cared about was sex, how much he was going to get, what drugs he could take and how much illicit beverage he could consume. It didn’t help that he was at least two times her size and on three occasions had tried to sexually abuse her , luckily for her Burton was nearby on all three of those occasions and Markus was deathly afraid of the emaciated doctor. And so sat Winter with her expression of expressionlessness and her bright blue eyes scanning down the book with hopes they would find something she’d not noticed the first few times she’d read it over; but everything about it was futile, if there was anything in that book on how to help Markus it was heavily encrypted. Realising her reading was getting her nowhere she decided to take a short stroll through the halls of the Hell that she called Heaven.

Her figure was hourglass with soft curves and flawless olive-toned skin, she had a flat stomach and a skin-clinging, and knee hemmed formal, black dress that she wore besides her black heels and customary white laboratory coat.  Her face however was less soft than her body, it was cold and emotionless as if there was a void of the ability to express and she’d earned the nickname amongst the attendees “Ice Queen”. There was a reason for her lack of expression though and it had to do with a long series of childhood events that were both scarring and the reason for her multiple bi-polar disorders. When she was going through grade school she’d only gained a close relationship with one other person and her name was Mirabelle, needless to say in eighth grade Winter watched on as Mirabelle was brutally raped to death and she herself was pushed up against a wall as she was beaten and stripped naked. She was only saved from Mirabelle’s fate by the sound of wailing sirens and flashing police lights nearby that weren’t even for her, but a robbery a block away. So Winter was left to stand in the cold with a bloody, semen soaked corpse beside her and a shredded pile of disheveled clothes to use to warm herself. When she’d told her foster parents about the incident she was ridiculed even though the stains on her ‘clothes’ and the bruises on her body begged to differ. The second event was in high school when she’d finally let someone into her life again, a boy this time; his name was Lucas and he was one class above her and exceeded at everything in school. It just so happened that on their fourth date Lucas decided he would take advantage of Winter and sexually assault her after dinner in the parking lot of the restaurant. After suffering a hospitalizing blow to the head and falling unconscious she was saved by several eyewitnesses and a valiant man who tackled Lucas to the ground. Due to those two incidents she’d never trusted anyone else throughout her life, held a collected lifestyle and became obsessed with understanding why people would do such things.

So she strolled through the halls, pondering how, how to help Markus in his life; because unlike Burton she had to think before doing and followed closely to her Hippocratic Oath unlike the madman she worked as a senior partner to. She stopped her clopping heels in front of William’s door and knocked three times with a swift ‘rap, rap, rap’.

“William, it’s Dr. Greene, can we talk for a moment?”

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