The next morning Eric was escorted to his cell under strict watch after completing his three hour therapy session, with the same results as day one. Not a damn thing had changed in his behavior or his way of thinking.

As they neared his cell he could smell an unusual stench to say the least. He couldn't quite describe it, but it made his nose curl in disgust. The guards stopped their march and followed Eric's lead, curling up their noses and such also.

"What the hell is that stench?"

"Oh god, I don't know." Honestly, Eric was just happy to conclude that he wasn't the only one smelling it and it wasn't some newly developed disorder of his, he could handle hearing and dreaming shit, but he broke even at smelling it too.

As they stepped closer to the putrid smelling cell, which happened to be close to his, Eric could better identify the origin and he rolled his eyes in aggravation. "It's not my cell, it's Tiniest." Not only was Eric aggravated, but he was also just plainly pissed.

Tiniest was one of the thirteen patients that really did belong on basement level. He was out of his mind disgusting, just not so much insane. He was more so like a child in the mind, or mentally retarded if you will, and he would often do things as innocent looking as a child and make it fit for an asylum patient. Another weird thing about him was that Tiniest wasn't his real name, it was a nickname the warden gave him because that was the only thing the guy would answer to. No one knew his real name. He was insane. Just like the previous week when he'd gotten a hold of a bird that managed to fly in secretively and injured itself, he'd took it to his cell and refused to let it leave his side in hopes of healing the poor thing but instead it met its death in the most sickening of ways.

Needless to say, Eric couldn't eat meat for a week or even anything that resembled the texture of blood, bones, and guts. In the back of his mind, he could still hear the small sparrow squeal for precious life as Tiniest crunched its tiny skull between his teeth.

Eric shuddered slightly, "You dogs had better go get the Warden and a mop for whatever the hell he's created in there."

One of the guards gathered enough courage to peek into the cell and he quickly stumbled back. "M-my God, Tiniest!" Guard number two caught the vibe and ran off for the Warden, leaving Eric alone with the shaking man. "What is it?"

"It's sick! Is this all you monsters know how to do? Well?" Eric stepped forward and peered into the cell. It had appeared the rusty, medieval looking lock was busted off onto the floor along with the entire door itself. Some, just enough, dim light peered into the cell to produce a shadow swinging back and forth on the yellow stained walls. A dull reflection of Tiniest's mutilated, burned, peeled, and swinging body reflected in Eric's emerald eyes.

The man was frightened and frantic in his wails of terror aimed at Eric. However, the insults seemed to roll off Eric's shoulders like water. As if all he could comprehend at that moment was the body before him. Who in the hell would do such a thing to someone so childlike? Tiniest may have been disgusting but if he was kept under watch, much like you should a toddler, he was literally harmless. There was a slight tug upward at the corners of Eric's mouth, not quite a smile, but yet something to behold. He threw his hand back quickly and snapped the guard's neck. He allowed the lifeless body to fall against the cold floor and walked over to his cell across the hall while he hummed a hymn of some sort.

Almost a week had passed since Tiniest's tragic death and Eric was still on severe lockdown. Not even Micheal was allowed to see him, but despite all the newly enforced restrictions, he still heard the rumors that trailed around le ole shit palace. Most of the rumors seemed to link him to Tiniest's demise, as well as the guard in the hall. Of course, he took credit where credit was due and admitted to breaking the man's neck just for shits and giggles. He knew it wouldn't really matter if he denied killing Tiniest, the other guard wouldn't confirm his whereabouts.

Eric sighed and lied on the white padded floor. He didn't mind being confined to one small space at all; he actually preferred this place more so than his own homey cell. He closed his eyes as long as he could before they began to burn and were forced open. Eric examined the white padded ceiling and walls along with the caged light fixture. There was literally nothing to do but workout and sleep, and considering he couldn't sleep he was left with one alternative.

It wasn't like he needed to work out anymore than what he already did. The nurse already complained about his abs, as well as thirty other pounds of unidentified muscle, she said it made him look aged. This place would do that to you, make you look like something you're not.