Bleak Insanity - Post 2.

Gogogogogo.

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Damn, I suppose you'll need to know my name. My name is Alister Skye, blood type O, five foot nine, and around one hundred and fifty pounds. My hair is what some might call “sandy”, though I've never understood why. Twenty three years of age when this mess started. I don't know how old I am now, but probably much, much older.
I had just entered work, just like any other day. Said “hello” to the door man, polite as can be. As I entered, I noticed we had a new receptionist. This wasn't too odd, many people can't handle the stress of working here, so we endure many frequent changes of staff. I remember looking at her name tag. “Hello! My name is Erin!”. Never asked for her last name. She looked at me with a pleasant smile, and said “Oh, you must be one of the security guards. I'm just starting here today, so please be patient with me.” I returned the smile and replied “Oh, don't worry, I'm used to new people working here. It'll take you some time to adapt, if you can at all.”. This comment seemed to bother her. Looking back I can see why.
I walked towards the elevator, after excusing myself. Same old elevator. Faux fancy interior, hell even fake plants bolted to the corners of the little box. All of the walls are mirrors. I expect it's to make it feel more roomy. Not that you'd ever need it, never more than three people in that elevator as long as I've worked here. I pressed the button marked five. I think I started to whistle then, something like an off key version of some Broadway play. As the elevator slowly ground to a halt, I stepped out, ready to take my usual post.
You see, I work guarding the mid-level patients. Not too dangerous, these are the ones who're content to sit in their padded room drooling all day. Oh, sure occasionally there'll be something I'll have to deal with. I had just started to patrol the halls when I heard my radio go off. Eh, the noise it makes has always put me off. Sounds like somebody stomping some bloated bug into some unforgiving pavement.
“All guards, report to floor seven. A situation has arisen.” Spoke the voice over the radio, I recognized as my superior, John Cormack. He's been working here since the damn place opened. Some people say he's related to the owner. There are a few other more unpleasant rumors around his working here, as well.
I quickly ran back towards the elevator. A “situation” is never something to meander blandly towards. When I reached the elevator, I saw the other guard who works on floor five. That's another name I won't forget. Erik Baikov, of Russian decent, I believe. Older man, greying hair. Fairly muscular, and in surprisingly good shape for his age. He greeted me gruffly, and asked if I knew what was going on. “No,” I answered “But it's probably pretty bad.”. The elevator arrived. Floor seven is where they hold the... Devil worshippers. You know, the people who sacrifice virgins to Belial. Not quite as dangerous as the people who murder their entire neighborhood because their tratorous mind whispered the notion into their ear. But, still not the kind of people you'd invite over for tea.
Again, grinding to a screeching halt, we exited the elevator. Immediately I noticed something wrong. When you've worked here as long as I have, this is the most terrifying thing you can see. Not one, not two, but all of the inmates doors in my immediate vision were open. I saw a few corpses dressed in Happy Trails standard robes. Two were presumably shot, but one... that's the one that still terrifies me. Crimson pooling below him, running from the horrendous gash through his carotid artery. This wound was greatly complimented by the blood running from his own jagged finger nails.
I didn't even notice it, but I was lapsing into a coma-like state. Mesmerized by the body in front of me. Erik jolted me out of my trance, by slamming his hand down on my shoulder. “Damnit, we have to move quickly. There's no telling how many of the other guards are dead already.” The second Erik finished speaking, as if on cue the radio went off again. “The seventh floor is now being quarantined, for the safety of the other patients, and workers. All guard currently on the floor, but not with the seventh floor, but not with the main unit, make your way to the end of corridor D. Have weapons ready.”