“I suspect you know I have called you down here tonight.” The Doctor’s back was turned against the woman, his arms clasped behind his back and his tone of voice seemed completely emotionless, besides a tint of harsh coldness that seemed to tip off of his tongue.
Juliette Delacroix, the inmate he had “saved” and rescued from the mind consuming madness that was a pandemic amongst women of today. He had cured every lost drop of tainted blood that ran through her veins, and even took her in as the main nurse of the asylum after the years she was fully cleansed.
Which seemed to be possibly one of the biggest mistakes he had ever made.
There was a conspiracy that ran through the halls, up and down the corridors, mumbling from the tips of every prisoner’s tongue to the orderlies… a dangerous game of telephone that would eventually work its way up to the highest power of the asylum.
“You have displeased me, Julliette. I take you in only to hear that you have wronged me.” His hands, which were held together so calmly, now seem to be clenching while his fingers interlocked with each other and his knuckles began to whiten.
His voice went silent as he waited for her to mumble in her regret,and as he attempted to decide her punishment for her “mistreatment” and affairs with the patients. Whether or not it was intended, it was standard procedure to not have any relationship with the patients, and if caught again, would bring her severe punishment and discharge of the asylum staff… Only to be re-entered into the asylum system once more.