The mandatory curfew has finally settled down in Trixville Insane Asylum, deep in the suburbs of Parkview. The head warden walked among the hallways with a flashlight in hand, checking each room to make sure everything and every patient is in their place, locking the doors each time he had done so. As he neared the end of the hall to check the last room, he noticed pieces of shattered glass scattered in front of the door. Naturally alarmed, the warden quickly opened the door, pointing his flashlight around the small room. All seemed to be well.

Something, however, did not seem right.

The warden approached the bed, his flashlight pointing in that direction, and with one hand, he quickly pulled the covers off. What he expected to be a patient lying asleep was only a pile of pillows in its place. Before he could run off to alert his co-workers, he felt something struck the back of his head hard, knocking him unconsciousness.

Blinking his eyes, time had passed by as the warden finally regained consciousness. However, as he tried to move his arms, he realized he could not move them, nor his entire body before he found himself strapped on to the bed. Within the nightlight lit room, he saw a tall, lanky figure standing there with a syringe in one hand, and a piece of duct tape in the other.

"Carmichael!" the warden snarled. "What the hell is this?" As he asked this, he tried to undo the straps that he found himself confined in to.

In reply, however, the tall figure placed the duct tape on the warden's lips to silence him. Picking up the syringe on the floor, he watched as the warden struggle and scream, despite the screaming coming out to be a muffled sound. The warden's eyes widened in fear, realizing what the syringe was for.

A smirk curled Carmichael's face as he approached the warden. As he had done so, he began to sing softly, almost calmly. "Hush little baby don't say a word…" Grabbing the warden's wrist, his fingers curled around it tightly, moving the needle closer to the vein. The closer it got, the more warden struggled. "Mama's gonna buy you a mocking bird." Injecting the needle into his vein, he pushed the liquid inside the syringe in to his flesh.

The warden's eyes widened, his body slouched among the sheets before his eyes closed. Undoing the straps, Carmichael took off the warden's clothes, and then his own clothes. In hopes of not being seen easily, he placed on the warden's clothes in disguise. Taking his keys and flashlight, he continued to sing as he made his way out the door.

"And if the mocking bird don't sing, mama's gonna buy you a diamond ring."

Closing the door shut, locking it up, he casually made his way down the halls, twirling the ring of keys in his finger, continuing to sing in the same soft, calm, creepy tone.
"And if that diamond ring turns to brass, mama's gonna buy you a looking glass."

To Be Continued...