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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11. The Patient, The Other One, The Fight

   William had entered the cafetorium, not really to eat but to at least try and calm down. William had learned that to survive he would have to learn to control himself. Knowing he'd be surrounded by others he wouldn't lash out. Winter's terse reactions had left him a bit ticked, and he needed to calm down or he would lose it. However when he entered the kids became silent for a second as if expecting him to do something; it made his annoyance grow worse until they all turned away and returned to chatting.

   "That's right you little scrubs," he mumbled, "Go back to your mindless conversations and leave me alone." He wandered about the room for a bit looking around and soon he spotted a familiar face; Dan, but who was the girl he was sitting with? He'd never seen her before.

   "Hell with it," he thought, "I'll leave them be." And so he finally settled on a empty table by a window. The reason nobody sat there was because it overlooked the nearby cemetery, but William didn't care too much at this point. Sitting down he leaned his head back and took a few deep breaths. "Bad women, bad women," he commented quietly thinking of Winter. William slowly became aware of the encroaching presence of another being. Returning his head to its normal position he found who it was; A kid named Duke was looking at him with a scowl. Duke was a scrapper before he wound up here, really it was his temper that brought him here. The word was that he once lost a fight to this scrawny kid and since he had never lost a fight when the kid was walking away from the battlefield, he got up and repeatedly stabbed the kid; shortly after he wound up here. Burton must've found something curious about the kid since he had been around only three months less than himself.

   "What do you want Duke?" William asked in a nonchalant tone.

   "What the hell do you think your doing in here?" he replied. "This is my turf, and I say your not welcome here William Taylor!" He had elevated his voice, maybe trying to sound tougher. William didn't too particularly care.

   "A turf war? Really, you're not in the ghetto of London Duke, you're in a sanitarium where we have no power. So there is no turf to claim and so I can come sit where ever I want so sod off!" William elevated his voice to match Duke's. Some of the nearby kids began to take notice and started to stare.

   "I don't like your tone Taylor, I think I'll wipe that look off your bloody face!" He yelled as he swung a punch. Idiot, William didn't want a fight but since there was a fist coming he choose to defend himself. He ducked out of the chair evading the blow and preformed an upper cut swing into Duke's rib cage.

   "I'd quit while you're ahead Duke!" William commented as he withdrew and stood up. Duke fell to the floor holding his ribs, struggling to breath. He looked up at William with complete hatred in his eyes. To him and most other people around William looked scrawny and so Duke wouldn't tolerate being beat by a "light weight."

   "Fuck you!" He coughed as he swept a kick at William's legs. William crashed to the floor and Duke used this to leap to his feet and jump on William so he could hold him down and pummel him. William used his arms to hold off Duke's initial swings, and then shifted his weight as he grabbed Duke by his wrists and used his strength to hurl Duke into a nearby trash can which proceeded to spill its contents on him.

   "That's a good look for you," William grunted as he got back to his feet. He stayed out of range of Duke's furious kicking range this time as he waited. He knew Duke wouldn't quit and besides he was blowing off steam which would help him calm down nicely. "Come on now Duke, just give it up." William smiled a thin, shifty smile.

   "Not until you're on the ground pleading for mercy," Duke replied getting to his feet. By now everyone had taken notice which only bolstered Duke's will to fight  "Perfect," he thought, "This way I can beat William and become king of this place and no one will disrespect me." He corrected his posture and lunged at William ready to throw a punch to the kid's ribs, gut and kick at his shin.

   "Really, he's still coming?" William thought to himself. He readied himself; he easily blocked the rib punch but he was caught off guard by the kick to the shin and so he howled in pain as Duke plunged his other fist into William's stomach. The stitches from Burton's last excursion into William's body immediately tore when Duke made contact; William's blood however  didn't leak out through the stitches but instead the blood leaked into his stomach. Not liking the feel of blood his stomach expelled it out through his mouth. "You little bitch," William sputtered as he stood back up wobbling. Duke took another swing towards William to which Will spat his blood and stomach fluid into his attacker's face. Stunned by the sting of the blood and stomach acid Duke missed and stopped short of running into a wall. William took the advantage and grabbed Duke by his shirt collar and flung him through the crowd onto a table.

   "Fuck you!" Duke shouted. "You bloody spat on me! I'll kill you!" he sprang off the table and swung again at Will's gut. Being prepared though William sidestepped, grabbed Duke by the wrist and twisted it until there was a sickening snap. Duke collapsed to the ground crying in agony. "You fucker!" he cried. "You fucker, ya broke it! Ya broke my god damn wrist!" he continued to cry in agony.

   "William just smiled a wicked smile. "I told you to quit while you were ahead," he spoke in his usual calm voice. Figuring he was done, William turned, looked at Dan and the girl in the crowd, flashed a quick grin and stepped towards the door.

   Duke was enraged, completely enraged. "i'm not losing this fight," he thought to himself. "William Taylor, you just signed your death warrant." he thought to himself as he withdrew a scalpel he had stolen earlier from one of the doctor's labs.

   "You told me to quit while I was ahead!" he yelled as he charged William. "I'm not quitting till you're dead!" He plunged forth with the scalpel towards William who in turn spun around and with one hand grabbed the wrist of the hand with the scalpel in it and twisted until he let go and with the other hand caught the now free falling tool, and plunged it into the muscular tissue of Duke's good arm. The screams of pain that followed sounded inhuman as Duke collapsed. William placed his foot firmly on Duke's head as he wriggled about on the floor. He applied pressure until Duke wailed in even greater pain.

   "Ahh! Stop please Will!" Duke screamed. "Don't kill me, please don't kill me!"

   "And why shouldn't I!?" William screamed back with a laugh. "You thought you could take me and when you couldn't you tried to kill me! And now that you are on Death's door you're begging me not to knock on it!?" he laughed a sinister, dark laugh. "Naw I won't kill you," he calmed down removing his foot from the kid's head. "I won't kill you," he whispered into Duke's ear. "Because you are not worth it." With the anger now released William quickly left the cafetorium, on his way out he thought he saw the gaunt figure of Dr. Burton amongst the crowd of kids but at present he no longer cared. At present he just wanted to be left alone considering the day had not gone as he hoped it would; every now and then he looked over his shoulder to see if anyone was following him, once he thought he saw the shadow of a girl in his periphrial vision but he disregarded it as perhaps a minor onset of paranoia. returning to his room he opened it and quickly closed it behind him; not knowing that the door hadn't completely closed and instead had left a small crack open no bigger than perhaps a sliver to which only an eye could catch a glimpse of anything. He sat down at his desk, opened his journal and began writing. However he hadn't written more than perhaps a paragraph when he noticed the crimson stain that was spattered across his jumpsuit. He knew he couldn't keep wearing it with the blood on it so quickly running the wash schedule through his mind he remembered that his block was due for collection the next day and so he quickly wandered over to his drawers and pulled out his other jumpsuit. He placed it on his bed as he began to undress himself, starting with the shirt and pulling himself out of the pants part until he was only in his underwear. Throwing the dirtied suit in the hamper he began to put the new,clean suit on. As he put the shirt on though he noticed the door. 

   "Damn," he thought to himself, "Could've sworn I shut that door." With the shirt not completely closed up he went over and closed the door until he heard the click telling him that indeed it was shut. Satisfied, he finished closing up the shirt and returned to writing in his journal his cryptic thoughts.

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