the asylum story
Feb. 2nd, 2009 07:18 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
aithneStorm and I are currently working on a story about madmen in Newfoundland. It is fantastically creepy. I just finished writing up an intro, and thought I would share.
Ah, I see you found it.
It's a good drawing, isn't it? Very precise lines, very realistic. The artist was something of a genius. A compulsive cracknob of a genius, but a genius all the same.
Ferryland Asylum, the Dominion of Newfoundland. Yes, that’s right, you're coming along with your reading, aren't you? That's what the sign says. 1854. More than forty years ago. I hadn't even met your grandmother yet when this picture was drawn.
Oh, those people? Let's see if I remember. The one in front with the beard and moustache, that's Dr. Slany. He ran it then. The woman next to him is Abaigeal Quinlan, his assistant. And the other man in a tailed coat, that was…Dr. Agata, if I remember correctly.
Those two were the cooks, Brenna and Fiona. The ones behind them—the big one's name was Corey, next to him are Keegan, Oliver, Tiernan, and Sullivan but everyone called him Sully. Those were the interns, most of them at least.
The woman with the smudged face? Yes, it looks like someone tried to erase her, doesn't it? She was another intern. Deirdre, her name was.
Me? Oh, I'm not in this picture, except in spirit. But Deirdre, yes, Deirdre. I could tell you stories about her, little one. Look at the lines the artist used to describe her. So light, and shaky. You can hardly tell anything about how she looked from this picture. It looks like the artist didn't finish drawing her, though I wish he had. She wasn't erased. She was never properly drawn in to begin with.
It's a terrible story in so many ways, but maybe you're old enough to hear it now. It all started when Deirdre, after her father died, traveled from St. John's to Ferryland to become an intern at the new asylum that the government had opened up.
It was there that she discovered that some dead men still walk and talk, and some dead men can commit murder. I'm getting ahead of myself, though.
It started one night when Deirdre went to try and calm a lunatic who was howling at the moon…
Ah, I see you found it.
It's a good drawing, isn't it? Very precise lines, very realistic. The artist was something of a genius. A compulsive cracknob of a genius, but a genius all the same.
Ferryland Asylum, the Dominion of Newfoundland. Yes, that’s right, you're coming along with your reading, aren't you? That's what the sign says. 1854. More than forty years ago. I hadn't even met your grandmother yet when this picture was drawn.
Oh, those people? Let's see if I remember. The one in front with the beard and moustache, that's Dr. Slany. He ran it then. The woman next to him is Abaigeal Quinlan, his assistant. And the other man in a tailed coat, that was…Dr. Agata, if I remember correctly.
Those two were the cooks, Brenna and Fiona. The ones behind them—the big one's name was Corey, next to him are Keegan, Oliver, Tiernan, and Sullivan but everyone called him Sully. Those were the interns, most of them at least.
The woman with the smudged face? Yes, it looks like someone tried to erase her, doesn't it? She was another intern. Deirdre, her name was.
Me? Oh, I'm not in this picture, except in spirit. But Deirdre, yes, Deirdre. I could tell you stories about her, little one. Look at the lines the artist used to describe her. So light, and shaky. You can hardly tell anything about how she looked from this picture. It looks like the artist didn't finish drawing her, though I wish he had. She wasn't erased. She was never properly drawn in to begin with.
It's a terrible story in so many ways, but maybe you're old enough to hear it now. It all started when Deirdre, after her father died, traveled from St. John's to Ferryland to become an intern at the new asylum that the government had opened up.
It was there that she discovered that some dead men still walk and talk, and some dead men can commit murder. I'm getting ahead of myself, though.
It started one night when Deirdre went to try and calm a lunatic who was howling at the moon…
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Date: 2009-02-03 06:56 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-02-10 02:32 am (UTC)