✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

   Wasaugee, Massachusetts a picturesque small town if one had ever seen one. It's main street bustling with happy, friendly, smiling people; flush floral arrangements of every colour imaginable lining the street, the smell of freshly baked pies from the bakery wafting through the air, beautiful dresses and suits displayed in windows at clothing shops, you name it, it was there.

To outsiders the small town of Wasaugee was the place to be, nearest thing to perfection, but main street was only the tip of the iceberg. In the depths of the forest on the edge of town festered a plague, a horrific disease to the town. A building of true horror that housed entities equally as horrific. Briarcliff Manor had earned it's reputation, a horrible one; it was the hushed gossip, the forbidden topic of any conversation, even mention of its name sent a shiver down ones spine.

The saying went "Once admitted, so you stay committed" and no truer fact had ever been spoken, for no one ever left Briarcliff. It was a place to be feared, and unless absolutely necessary no one dared go close to the building or even the area surrounding the hellish place on earth.
Despite its reputation among the townsfolk, there was one woman to which Briarcliff was a symbol of determination, sleepless nights, unimaginable resilience and countless hours of hard work, a place of salvation. Briarcliff was her life, her soul, it consumed her and her undivided attention every morning,
day and night. She had built Briarcliff up from nothing and turned it into, as seen through her eyes, a haven, a place of rehabilitation and solution for all ones problems.

Briarcliff was a place to provide treatment for those whom are profoundly mentally ill and so forth deemed "wrong" in the eyes of the public. To the head nun in charge and deliverer of discipline, Briarcliff was a brilliant establishment and it was unequivocally her territory-a hunting ground-prowling around ensuring no one shall cross her, or her set rules.
Hell hath no wrath similar to the likes of Sister Jude.

Very much like the fear that resonated among the townsfolk with the mention of Briarcliff, Sister Jude was the name that initiated hushed gossip and caused spines to shiver inside the establishment. She caused the fear on the inside; a force to be reckoned with, no one dared to cross her. For those who did quickly learned never do it again, and for those whom ceased to learn were mysteriously gone without a trace, never to be seen again. Sister Jude would never turn her back on Briarcliff, and Briarcliff will never turn its back on her.