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Escape The Asylum
Gem Runner
A Princess Of Zamarra
A Saint Beckons
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Rise Of The Night Creatures
New Day Rising
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Shrine Of The Salamander
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Below Zero Point
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The Ravages Of Fate
Nye's Song
A Knight's Trial
Return To G15-275
Devil's Flight
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The Word Fell Silent
A Strange Week For King Melchion The Despicable
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Tomb Of The Ancients
A Midwinter Carol
The Dead World
Waiting For The Light
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The Hypertrout
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In The Footsteps Of A Hero
Soul Tracker
Planet Of The Spiders
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Wrong Way Go Back
Hunger Of The Wolf
Isle Of The Cyclops
The Cold Heart Of Chaos
The Black Lobster
Impudent Peasant!
Curse Of The Yeti
Bad Moon Rising
Riders Of The Storm
Bodies In The Docks
House Of Horror
Rebels Of The Dark Chasms
Midnight Deep
Lair Of The Troglodytes
Outsider!
The Trial Of Allibor's Tomb
Hellfire

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Escape The Asylum

by Ulysses Ai


Background
Outside of asylum
Artwork by dream.ai
I am not mad! The voice repeats emphatically, as the bright blur starts to resolve into the details of a harsh white room. Fluorescent lights buzz in the ceiling of rough plaster. White paint is chipping off the brick walls. A small, barred window dark with night. A narrow bed, a depleted drip bag on a stand.

I am not mad! I am not mad! Like the thudding of panicked heart it repeats, an awareness lifted from the refuge of unconsciousness to discover a reality that is terrifyingly familiar. It is always, endlessly, the same.

The door opens, screeching on unoiled hinges. The orderly steps inside; non-descript, a large mass of impatient brawn. The syringe is already loaded in his fat fingers, ready to inflict chemical insensibility. But suddenly... this time something different happens: the orderly quickly drops out of sight... what?

It takes several minutes for you to regain your sense of self. The voice repeating the mantra that you are not mad is your own. You vaguely remember being dragged to this place with false accusations of insanity. You had a life that was stolen from you, and now it calls out to you again from beyond the fog in your mind, begging you to return.

Sitting up makes your head spin for a few moments. When things settle, you turn your attention to the floor beside the narrow bed. The orderly is lying on the floor with a large dark bump on his head. The soiled legs of his white pants draw your attention to a puddle of some liquid. Slowly it becomes clear what happened: the orderly slipped and smashed his fat head on the bed frame. Interrupted in his task, the door to your cell is still standing open. Freedom!

Pulling the tubes out of your arm, you climb off the bed and carefully settle yourself onto the floor, the worn floorboards cool against your bare feet. You nearly fall over just trying to bear your own weight, but after many tries you are able to take a step away from the bed.

Growing stronger by the second, you spy the full syringe and gently lower yourself to pick it up. You grope at the orderly's fat neck until you feel a throbbing artery and plunge the needle into it, expelling the drug into his system. Now he will be out for... well, you don't know. For long enough to escape... you hope!
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