“And this is wing C. We keep our most violent patients here. ” I started taking notes in my notebook. Honestly, I hated this assignment. I was supposed to be writing an article about upcoming mayor, instead I was stuck here in this asylum with bunch of lunatics. Journalism is just a rat race these days. One good article can change your career. Mayor’s article was supposed to be my career changer.

We took stairs leading to dark corridor. There was one old broken window at the end of corridor. That broken window was the only source of light for this side of building. It was really creepy. There were prison cells on both side of the corridor. This asylum had just turned into a living nightmare. Almost every patient was screaming and holding bars of their cell. My guide said, “Do not talk to any of these patients, you might trigger them and make them violent.” And I thought really? More violent than this?

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“So Mr. Shekhar, Why this sudden interest in our Asylum?” I told him the truth that it was my boss’s idea. He somehow thought a news on Asylum is a good idea. He should have been here in one of these cell. I smiled on my own thoughts. My smile quickly disappeared by angry look from one of those cell holders. We were about to finish our tour when some random guy emerged from dark corners. He was wearing asylum employee uniform. He spoke something in my tour guide’s ear, then looked at me and vanished in same dark corner. This place is not a good place for sane people, I mumbled to myself. “Sorry Mr. Shekhar, I have to go attain some business. But if you take last right corner you can easily reach exit.” My guide pointed me towards corridor. I smiled and thanked him for his service, then he too vanished into darkness.

I started moving through corridor. My heartbeats were synchronous to my steps. All patients were still screaming and those screams were too annoying. I quickly reached at the end and turned right. I was about to push the exit door when I noticed something unusual. There were two cells at the end of corridor and patients from both cell were quiet. They were staring right into each other’s eyes. My journalism just awoke and I went near one of those cell.

“Ask questions.” Patient from that cell whispered. “He is doing this. Stop him.” He screamed to me. I asked him to explain. He pointed towards other patient and said, “He controls this. They work for him. Why don’t you ask questions? ” “What questions?” this was getting quite interesting. “Don’t you see? He is controlling this. I have to get out of here.” I smiled at his poor face and he got angry. “You think this is joke? Ask questions. Don’t follow.” He started yelling. Suddenly my guide appeared from nowhere and gave me an angry look. I looked down and started moving towards exit.

He was screaming some gibberish. “Where were you before coming to this asylum? Don’t go through that door! You only exist here. This is not real. You are in his head. He controls this reality. There is nothing out there.” Honestly I don’t remember where I was before that asylum but I didn’t think much about it. Finally I stepped out and …………

“And this is wing C. We keep our most violent patients here. ” I started taking notes in my notebook…..

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