Flashing red lights swirled overhead, bulbs spinning frantically, signaling officers in the area of another escapee. Tomato red sirens wailed, vibrating the concrete walls, disturbing the massive building with their obnoxious screaming horns. Patients woken from broken naps clung to bars, mushed faces peering curiously outside their square windows cut in steel doors. The rest huddled under mounds of blankets, sobbing loudly, their routines disrupted. 

Blue uniformed men carrying batons darted down the hallways, muttering in crackling walkie-talkies. Nurses rushed about, caps falling off their heads and floating to the dirty ground. Slapping feet bounced off grime covered walls; shrill, panicked voices yelled over din of chaotic noise. 

Trembling violently, rapid breathes heavy, the man bolted past rows of cubed rooms. Doors wide open, he thoughtlessly named each one; spending ages inside a crazy house allowed him hours to memorize everything down to grains of dust. He clapped his hands over his ears, blocking the caterwauling. His eye squinted, adjusting slowly to the blinding colors. 

He hatted padded cells and straight jackets. Fortunately, his escape plan was fool proof. Finally, freedom would be within his grasp. 

"This way! Check room eighty-four!" 

Stumbling, the man hesitated, pausing in the center of the hall. Cell blocks lined both sides, patients watching him curiously. A woman banged her head, rhythmic thuds on her door. A balding man, rash inflaming his neck, shook his fists angrily. Mumbling under his breath, the rat haired man chewed his nails nervously, and charged beside the wall. 

Officers chattering in brisk tones, words scrambled, didn't notice his fleeing shadow cross another section of the maze of endless rooms. The man giggled like a child during Christmas morning, waking up for colorful wrapped presents. 

Nurses missed his familiar ratted dreadlocks of black hair hanging over his maddened, bloodshot eyes, several patches missing due to stress. Reeking smells of molded slop stung his nose as he slipped inside the cafeteria kitchens. Stale bread crumbs decorated stained counters, mysterious  substances pooled the tiled floor. The man couldn't identify the milky white liquid dripping off his bare feet. He imagined making out with young girls. 

Huffing, he jerked his scratchy green clothes spotted with blood. Frigid air froze his fingertips, blackening the chips, until his skin flaked off in great chunks. The man cursed, and stomped around, trying to warm up. His eyes raked the dangerous landscape, spying a plastic fork. It suited his needs. 

Despite the sirens, he ripped open the entrance leading into the basement. The boiler warmed his broken toes and fingers. The man marched quickly, taking two steps at a time, leaping down the last five. Heat intensified the further he ventured, and he noticed burning hot coals littered the concrete. Hairless squirrels nibbled the flaming bits like fresh roasted chestnuts. 

The man brushed clusters of recluse spiders skittering up his arms. Rats the size of cats chewed his pant legs while he stared longingly at the fire pit inching towards opening. Smoke burned his nostrils, made his eyes water. Sniffling, the man continued his journey, splashing in water the further darkness swallowed him whole. 

Fork banging the copper pipeline, he answered his thousand questions. The council locked him inside the asylum, declaring him criminally insane after murdering and committing necrophilia. He wasn't insane, and didn't deserve spending an eternity having his brain fried. Electrotherapy wounded his mind horribly, no longer could he read or solve math problems. Ice baths reminded him of the women's puddy flesh as he graced her decayed, limp body. Running his hands through her vibrant red hair. 

The man felt his pants tighten uncomfortably. 

Running, dropping his fork, he shouted at the officers he thought were chasing him. In reality, nobody followed him, more pressing issues at hand. Just beyond he visualized blinding light like the small hole the nurses pushed his medication and food tray through while he rotted inside his padded cell. 

Whooping in joy, he forgot his dropped plastic fork. Cackles uplifted his spirits before he stopped them. Bats twittered in alarm, and unhinged themselves from purchases hidden in crevices of the tunnel system. The man laughed shrilly, running up a flight of stairs, arms spread eagle wide as he tried hugging freedom. 

His bare feet kicked his skeleton while he floated circles, wrapping his arms around his transparent figure. Hallow cheeks, eyes sunken deep inside his skull stared at the molded bedding. Cotton oozed out of holes, rusted springs jutted like screws threatened tiny field mice scavenging the smoke blackened room. Pink claws scratched over his bones, sniffing his eye sockets. The room smelled of must and smoke; his cell hadn't kept the smoke at bay, killing him alongside hundreds of mentally ill patients during the massive fire. 

Flickering in and out of sight, the man hovered inches above the ground, bumping the walls unknowingly. In his deranged mind, he imagined forests swamped with animals and plants. The straight-jacket restraining the movements of his carcass hung off his ragged, ghostly image, leather straps frayed. 

Cheering,  his delighted voice whispered through the depths of the spiritual world into the human. He kicked his skull, knocking the bone piece off his vertebrae. Thumped on the padded floor, it rolled slowly, stopping in a far corner. 

The man continued experiencing his paradise, but woke from his daydream upon hearing water drip outside his confinement. Turning his head, he peeked outside before floating back inside his dark solitude, trapped forever.