Sunday, sometime in 1920

Alice was sitting outside on the steps that led to the entrance of the asylum. This was one of her better days and Patrick had somehow talked her doctor into letting her get some air. She simply stared at the street watching the people pass by, the women with their fanciful Sunday-hats and the men in their pin-striped trousers and starched collars. Alice remembered the last time she wore her Sunday best. She was amazed to find herself missing the feel of the sharp pins that held her hat in place by poking into her head. She smiled.

Alice leaned her head contentedly against the stone railing of the steps and sighed. As she did so, an incredibly handsome man, dressed in much more than his Sunday best walked up and sat down beside her, laying his cane down next to him and removing his hat at the same time. His brilliant blonde hair seemed to shimmer as if by sunlight, though the day was quite clouded over. He turned to her and smiled a most brilliant smile that melted her heart entirely. He held out a gloved hand saying, “James McIntire, ma’m.”

Alice timidly took his hand and replied, “Mary Alice Brandon, sir.” She felt incredibly embarrassed at her state of repair. She must’ve looked god-awful.

The beautiful man contradicted her thoughts by complimenting, “You are quite beautiful, do you know that?”

Alice blushed and the man’s eyes widened to the point of sheer impossibility. They seemed in an odd way…hungry. That plus the width of his smile made him a quite frighteningly handsome man and Alice couldn’t hold his gaze for long.

The man put a hand underneath her chin and turned it to face his. “You really are quite beautiful,” he whispered somewhat hungrily and his sweet breath engulfed her face in bliss. Alice began to wonder what exactly it was that this man wanted. He inclined his face to hers, but instead of the kiss she was expecting, he simply inhaled. He leaned closer and all of a sudden Patrick was on top of him, grasping his arms behind his back.

Horrified, Alice cried, “No! Stop it! He wasn’t going to hurt me!”

But Patrick wouldn’t comply. He instead placed a foot on the man’s back, still grasping his arms, and pushed, dislocating both of his shoulders. James should’ve howled in pain, but instead a menacing hissing sound rose from out of his throat. He turned around and rotated both of his shoulders back into place. Alice winced as they both came together with a hideous sounding crrrack. He pulled Patrick into a headlock that he deftly maneuvered his way out of , expertly flinging James headlong across the sidewalk.

Patrick ran up to Alice and whispered in her ear, “I love you,” and then crushed his lips against hers. He pulled away and looked into her eyes firmly saying, “I’m sorry, Alice, but this is going to hurt. A lot.”

He then proceeded to bring his lips to her neck. Suddenly, something pierced through her skin and a burning pain spread quickly from there to her shoulders to her hands and proceeded in this same fashion throughout her entire body. The pain itself was sheer fire. She could feel her senses slipping away. But there was one thing she could make out just before the blackness of unconsciousness completely engulfed her.

“NO!” James growled angrily and Alice was suddenly aware of Patrick being ripped from her. There was a deafening crack and then… nothing. Just black. Deep…dark… dank… agonizing… black.