[center][h3][color=skyblue]இ [/color][color=#7BCDC8][i]ℭ [/i][/color][color=#57A3C6]h a r l e s[/color]  [color=#4E99C6][i]Λ [/i][/color][color=#3F88C6]e o n[/color][color=skyblue] இ[/color][/h3]
 [sub]~  Ominar’s St. Katherine’s Sanitarium for the Mentally Ill~[/sub][/center]
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[center][indent]“…..But love is blind, and lovers cannot see what petty follies they themselves commit.”
William Shakespeare[/indent][/center]
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The rain began to sprinkle just when he arrived. Here, within Ominar, it wouldn’t stay like that for long so he wasted little time. Charles mumbled a few words as metallic colored wings erupted from his back then raised upward, folding over his head to shield him from the weather’s abrupt change. The drops grew in volume and pelted his molded Vis. Each one slid back to the black asphalt and started to form puddles around him while he stood there. Silently he admired the towering structure before him. His head lifted to stare into the giant of stone, brick and wood standing there and expected him to enter. Dared him almost with those empty windows staring back at him.   

His expression became more grim than before as his hands lifted to prop up his jacket’s collar closer to his neck, mentally pushing away the chill bleeding into his figure and drove him to enter the institution. His shoes thumped hard against the stone steps, retracing the same path for years now, and his hand glided to the door just within reach. Charles gave it a sharp twist then pushed inward. The door didn’t move. His eyes narrowed in irritation as the frame stuck fast, the wood swollen by the moisture saturating the air causing his frown to deepen. He jiggled the knob roughly to get it to loosen, but he had little luck in his attempt. The rusty hinges merely screeched their protest for several moments and after a bit, finally gave in.

The door swung widened open without warning.    

The immortal flinched at the loud bang echoing throughout the empty corridors and quickly he stepped inside. Wet impressions of his shoes settled on the marble floor while he edged deeper, his mouth mumbled a soft word. In the same breath, the metallic wings sucked back into his figure and vanished from sight after being dispelled. Thunder boomed behind him causing Charles to tilt his head backwards where he caught the flash of lightning as the streak split across the darken skies. The brighter light drenched his figure in a misshapen shadow for an instant.

Charles’ hand reached for the door then gradually shut it behind him. He didn’t flinch when it it closed this time and instead started to walk forward. The first thing he noticed was the remodeled scene. He realized it was due to the Prae’s occupation that these changes had been accomplished at all. He had been pouring funds and pleading with Ominar’s city council to fix up the place as it was deteriorating at its very foundation. This threatened the very residence’s who were deemed too mentally ill to exist outside these crumbling walls. 

Nothing had happened. They ignored him, like usual, until their city’s control had been seized and changes finally made. His mind was slightly amused at the realization that for any changes to been made, it took the city's freedom away.

He let his mind idle as he walked. The scenes distracting his focus when his memory started to overlap the present with the past. Charles’ mind went into automatic while he edged deeper into the sanatorium, each step a familiar repeat of muscle memory. The present shimmered into the past within a blink of an eye. The comfortable looking chairs became long, cushion less benches along the wall. The paper covering the corridor peeled down to the brick underneath. Sickly, thin looking patients were seated on the few benches left outside.  Men and women curled in upright balls. Every single face looked hollowed out, skull like, and eyes were glossed over thanks to the several pills forced down their throats daily.

The past was nothing more than a horror filled recount of mankind's cruelty and neglect over those who didn't belong in 'proper' society. It wasn't the first time in history this behavior repeated either. Shaking off the reminiscing, he came to a stop right at the receptionist’s desk.

Additional differences didn’t limited themselves to the building only, but included the staff too. His last visit he was greeted by a white, plump woman in her early forties with a kindly temperament. Now sitting at the desk, a young woman looked rather sour at having her work interrupted. Her dark skin, bright purple lips with a few layers of makeup and bouncy, tightly curled black hair were cut above the shoulders and the most remember-able features on her person for Charles. He noted them, then tuck the associated traits away in his memory so he could identify her later. 

The woman paused in her typing, her right arm shifted upright to support her chin. Arching her eyebrow in question, her eyes stared at him for a few moments and appeared to be wondering why he was here. Skeptical that he was actually just visiting one of the patients, she jumped to the possibility he was going to make trouble. Charles couldn’t fault her for it since he barely looked a day over sixteen and it wouldn’t have been the first time a teenager had tried to pass themselves off as him.

Promptly, he reached in his back pocket and retracted a worn, leather wallet. He fingered through it until he came to his identification card and finally handed it over to the woman to prove his next words. Cautiously taking it, she read it carefully and checked for clear signs of it being a forgery.

Not lingering on his anxiety, Charles spoke in a mature manner. [color=#7BCDC8]“I’m here to see a Ms. Lilith.”[/color]

Her next words surprised him a bit when she smiled. Her hand placed his identification down for a moment and tilted her head, raising from her seat to get a better look at him over the desk. Something appeared to have clicked for her because her tone changed into something much more gentle. 

“Damn… Mariam told me you were young, but I wasn’t expecting you to be an immortal teenager, Mr. Aeon.” The woman stated.

Her other hand gestured to his whole figure as if he had put it on display before her. He could hear her teeth blowing a bubble inside her mouth then snap it abruptly with a notable pop, chewing it loudly for another bubble. She didn’t waste anymore time. The receptionist shifted her eyes and hands back to her computer. Her fingers began to click away and brought up the visitor’s form, making one final tap upon the enter key in order to send it to the head office. In the background, a printer beeped. It began to print out a form slowly while she returned her attention to him and introduced herself. 

“Name’s Claire Reagan as you might’ve noticed on the name tag, Sir.” Her hand raised a scanner’s lid, then set his identification card easily inside and snapped it shut. A light shone through the crack and it made a dull hum, fully analyzing it in a 3-D fashion. When it finished, she retracted the ID to hit a few keys on the computer causing the machine to create a temporary pass. She spoke while she worked. “Now, hun, I’m using your ID to create a temporary visitor’s pass for the day. When you head out the front doors, which I might add is the only exit, then the pass will be void. This requires you to come back here and fill out a new form before I can repeat the process. It also is standard procedure you pay a fee of 15 pounds for the second pass or you can extend the original by paying about 20 pounds per day up to 3.”

The receptionist placed the card in her lap and rolled back over to the printer. She snatch up the paper, clipped it on a clipboard with his ID card and finally slid back. She passed it over for him to fill out. It included a cheap, office pen wedged in there as well. Charles took the items into his hand and turned on heel, walking back to the nearest chair. His figure sank into the leather while he filled the form out in silence. The only sounds within the office was the sounds of the receptionist typing and the scratches of his pen against the paper. Occasionally joined by the sound of gum being popped.

Charles didn’t take long to wrap up his task then rose to deliver the form to the woman. Claire nodded and filed it away, pausing with a curious expression washing over her face. Her head turned toward him and seemed to study him before asking the question surfacing on her thoughts. “If you don’t mind me asking, but why do you come here every week?”

The immortal sighed and answered. [color=#7BCDC8]“I made a promise.”[/color]

“Why put yourself through that? I mean, most people that come here aren't ever the same as they were in the past. ”

[color=#7BCDC8]“Love is blind… in this case, it’s very true.”[/color]

“Oh, that’s sweet.” She commented then continued, reading the form’s information. “I must warn you, sir, she’s been reported as having episodes of violence lately and growing extreme with every passing week. There’s going to be two specialized nurses on standby to monitor the situation and the door is not allowed to be closed.”

The woman pulled out a laminated card from the same scanner. However, she didn’t hand it off until she knew Charles understood the reason he was forced to fill out a form every time.

“You’ve read the full conditions and disclosures about injury regarding visits?”

[color=#7BCDC8]“Yes. I’ve been reading them for over a few years now, weekly. I appreciate the concern and worry.”[/color] Charles answered, hanging his pass around his neck after he took it from her.

“Very good, here’s your card. Now, do you need directions?”

[color=#7BCDC8]“No, but thank you for the offer. What room is she in?”[/color]

“Recovery ward, number 16.” Claire said, her hand reaching into a desk for a paper map then pointed the route out to him.

After checking his understanding a few times, he took the map and again thanked her for her assistance. Charles paused long enough to ask if he could take the map with him. The woman smiled and nodded. She then added one last statement before he managed to get out of earshot. “Try not to upset her, hun. She sent one of our warders into a coma after an episode and demolished her room, so she was moved up a few floors.”

[color=#7BCDC8]“I shall, Mrs. Reagan. Through pain is no stranger to me,”[/color] Charles stated in a calm, unconcerned tone then he vanished from sight into the stairwell.

Charles’ legs ached slightly on his way up, the stairs climb almost endless while he began to dwell on the last time they had seen each other. Only a week had passed but the rapid thumping of his heart and nervousness tingled throughout his system, building apprehension over the upcoming event. His stomach was flipping over itself before he even started. These symptoms seemed to scream that it had been nearly a lifetime. Charles found it amusing how time, despite how jaded he had become, still held her manipulative sway over him.

He wondered if it had more to do with human nature than with the many years he had lived. If that was the cause, some things might never change. The thought was a soothing one at best and gave him a sense of belonging with the rest of mankind. His feet continued the climb until it was no longer necessary.

Charles’ breath stalled when he took that final step, his figure paused on the landing. The door seemed to stare him down and bar his journey for a moment. He second guessed his wisdom in visiting her again. Was it right of him to put her through this pain even for a promise? The question stayed on his mind as he gripped the door, then entered into the lengthy hallway and walked toward the room labeled 16.

Two nurses, males and thickly built, eyed him suspiciously when he approached them. Instinctively he gripped his visitor’s badge and held it outright. Mostly to show them he was allowed to be here. The blond on the right stepped forward then took the badge, the other man peered at him with a cynical look and seemed to expect a dirty little trick. Satisfied, the blond handed the badge back allowing Charles to pocket it. The nurse stepped aside to allow the immortal through. Charles inhaled, still uneased at the situation about to come, while he heard them unlock the door and he walked into the room.  

It creaked loudly as if to warn the inhabitant of his coming. The room was completely dark. No shred of light present, either to give him comfort or aid him in locating Lilith. It didn’t take a genius to know this was a dangerous situation, his right foot lead the way deeper into the room while his eyes flickered from one dark corner to the next. She was in here. He could easily conclude this because the hall’s bright light illuminated the door paneling, revealing fresh scratches with blood lacing the grooves. It was as if someone had tried to claw their way out and escape. His shoes creaked along the wooden floor, his weight pushed the boards down and caused them to protest. The sense of being watched raced along his flesh. Goosebumps raised along his skin, made his calm start to stretch thinly with his eyes still rapidly seeking the source in a fruitless search. He forced the door wider.

[color=#7BCDC8]“Lilith… I know you’re here. It’s Charles Aeon. You remember me, don’t you?”[/color]

A rustling sound occurred above him and drew his head upward. Someone moved in the raptors above, the room actually a remodeled attic, when a voice whispered a single word.

“Murder…”

The door clicked shut with a loud snap! Charles eyes widened in surprise, his standing figure now suddenly pinned against the door back. He could hear the nurses shout and try to kick in the door, their concerns muffled by the wood and became background noise in their struggle to get inside. The immortal’s mind had trouble putting together what happened. One moment he was standing, calling out to Lilith then he was abruptly tossed into a close door. At first, the shock of what happened had numbed the pain. Still, he had the sensation of something buried deeply just under his shoulder.

A warm and wet liquid spread from his jacket. It followed the crinkles and grooves then dripped down to the ground. When the first drop hit, it became the loudest. It was followed by another.

The pain kicked in at last around the third drop. The agony seared through his nerves and caused Charles’ awareness to jerk himself back into awareness. Even being immune to death, his basic instincts never failed to react to both injury and fear in the most humanly way possible. No amount of time could change that.

Gingerly, his opposite arm raised to his shoulder. He touched and briefly examined it, feeling something sticking out from the wound’s opening. He hissed whenever he jarred it in the slightest causing him to tilt his head downward. He spied the narrow, wooden and bloody table leg sticking out about an inch from his shoulder joint. It angled into his ribs and, he suspected, broke one or two from how deeply it went.

Charles knew pulling the chunk of wood out now would cause more damage than doing himself any good. He made the decision to leave it as he forced his feet to move, his back started to peel off the surface he was pinned to. He left bloodied footprints behind him with his progression toward his target. The Prae merely stood there. Either she had forgotten him or was locked in a memory, which one Charles couldn’t fully be sure of. Namely as she kept mumbling over and over.

“Murder. . . killed him. H-how could you? I trusted… Murder… filthy murder!”

Charles could still hear the nurses struggling with the door, their fists pounding and bodies slamming against it. His eyes shifted behind him and noted the frame was unnaturally swollen, his mind suspected Lilith had infused it with her Vis. It made sense since she had had plenty of time.

His attention returned to Lilith. A dim, creamy light poured into the scene and illuminated both their conditions. Her feminine silhouette stood nearby and shrouded by the poor lighting within the room. Charles eyes quickly adjusted and saw the details shortly afterwards.

It was obvious she was mentally disturbed. Any fool could easily see that by looking at her.

She swayed in place, her toes balled with each movement she created. Her fingers were covered with an off color, his first guess was blood, from where she had likely clawed the door over and over. His imagination adding her screams to be let out alongside the mental picture. The strait jacket restraints dangled from her too thin frame showing how neglective her nurses had been with her care. Her long locks cascaded down her milky colored skin and covered the pretty blue eyes he recalled lied behind the wild curtain of red. The arms were spotted with vivid bruises, both new and old, clearly seen even by the faint light.

Each new discovery stabbed into Charles’ heart, evidence she had suffered such longanimity, and added to his shame. He started to approach her. He had to stop her from hurting herself anymore and perhaps calm the rage he created, his voice trying to reach her broken mind. His eyes softened while his hand reached to brush her hair from her eyes when he came within range.

[color=#7BCDC8]“Please… Lilith, don’t do this. You’re hurt. You need help, let me-”[/color]

“Get… stay away. . .  MONSTER! Murder!” Lilith started to scream, her volume carried in the small room. Her hand rose before him causing Charles’ step to halt from fear at what she was about to do.

The table leg within his side started to jiggle and shake, then shoved forward. Charles grunted in surprise as his head lowered, his eyes spied the source instantly. His teeth gritted when his opposite arm seized the end in hopes to delay her attempt to ‘kill’ him. She clearly either forgot his immortality or just wanted to create the most pain possible on him.

Gasping, Charles tried to reason with her again. [color=#7BCDC8]“Lilith, please. Stop this… it hurts. I don’t… I don’t want to hurt you.”[/color]

“...Liar… killed my ward! I trusted … Never again!”

It began to become clear, finally, to him that Lilith would never listen to his pleads. She was lost, confused and locked in the past to hear him as she reacted on the echoes of memories years ago. Her eyes glossed over in  a furious fog when she tightened her fist and tried harder to shove the table leg farther into him. The realization she wanted to inflict agony on him hurt more than the actual pain in Charles' mind. He had no choice now because if she damaged herself or killed someone, the Prae’s attention would be drawn. They would lock her away within a prism and he would never see her again. This was something he wouldn’t allow to happen.

Charles let a familiar numbness settle inside him. For a moment or two, his heart fluttering in pain and panic at his actions. It feared he would never release the emotion he was locking away as his eyes lowered, hidden from Lilith’s sight. His grip on the wood loosened, now soaked with blood. At last, his whole figure went slack but remained upright.

Lilith stared and stood there, the manipulation of the table leg ceased when she started to walk over. Her balance wobbled and her legs appeared ready to give out from under her at any moment. She paused inches facing him and examined his all too still form. He was saying something.

A snarl and teeth sank into her legs giving her a start, Lilith’s head whirled about to attack what she thought was something humanoid behind her. The mentally unstable Prae never got the chance o when two, large wings sprouted from Charles back and slammed into the back of her head full force.

Lilith’s figure crumbled, caught by his arm before she hit the floor and prevented any more damage. Two large hound like golems stood in wait before he dismissed them.  

The nurses managed to enter through the door, Lilith’s control over it now gone with her consciousness. Both stood there in stun silence over the scene that greeted them. Charles could feel the weakness settling into his very muscles and moved to set her upon the untouched bed hidden in the corner. One of the men came forward to take her from him causing Charles’ wing to twitch defensively, reading to beat the man senseless for the thought. His eyes glared hard in warning as he stopped in place.

[color=#7BCDC8]“Stay where you’re at, I think you’ve done enough damage with your treatment methods.”[/color] The immortal spat in rarely shown anger.

His words reflected his venomous mood and were spoken loud enough to ensure either man couldn’t ignore it. They looked at him, worry and fear etched across their faces. It only increased his contempt toward them. Charles didn’t bother being courteous or patient, not after what he noted on Lilith’s very skin, and resumed to gently place the Prae upon the bed. His hand tenderly checked her head for the damage he had caused with his stunt. There was a vivid, purple bruise staining the back of her head. The sight would usually sprout guilt within his core but he stopped it, fearing his temper would get the better of him. Last thing he needed to do was unleash it upon the very source of his ire.

Neither one of the fools would live to see the next dawn... He didn't have time or energy to cover up the murders at this present moment. Charles was honestly surprised he was even able to stand now. 

After covering Lilith up with the thin sheet, Charles turned toward the two nurses. His lips tightened in a frown as he began to move toward the door, his wings curled and sucked back into his form. He muttered another word and this time two metallic arms appeared in place of his wings, their base sprouted from his back. They reached for the table leg still stuck in his side. Inhaling deeply, Charles braced for the painful experience to come. The new limbs struggled a bit at first to remove it. They moved and jarred the object, causing his expression to twist in obvious discomfort then faded into relief when it was finally jerked out. He looked at the damage. It was much worst than he originally assumed, his skin already becoming pale from the blood loss. More blood dribbled heavily down his shirt and coat in rivulets, gradually tainted it redder as he let object drop.

The hollowed thump was soon followed by his words. [color=#7BCDC8]“If you ever want to work in this career ever again then resign your positions at this sanatorium and never return. If I find you here… for each bruise you put on her again, one almost identical will show up on you at the day's end until you do resign.”[/color]

Letting those words linger in the air, Charles decided to briefly stop at the infirmary on the way home. He needed to be patched up and afterwards, he intended to drown away his turmoil of emotions boiling under the surface. The effort it took to keep them locked up was exhausting, showing he had to actually focus and force them from clouding his mind. Something that wasn’t like that until recent centuries and displayed how far he had developed since his toxic up bring. Sadly, now it was more a burden than it had brought him any good.