The Wistful Asylum
The smell of boiled cabbage and antiseptic hangs heavy in the air, a thick, greasy veil that coats the back of your throat. You stand in the center of the refectory, the long wooden table stretching out before you like a dissection table, its surface slick with the residue of a meal that tastes of ash and fear. This is the St. Jude’s Correctional Facility for the Mentally Insane, established in...
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