Red was a little too trigger-happy for his own good, always getting ticked off at the slightest thing, like a spark ever ready to catch a flame.

Sometimes, the trigger could be pulled. The spark would become a flame and there'd be the potential for the whole asylum to burn down. Luckily, that hadn't happened, at least not yet.

Why 'Red'?

He had dark hair, with a single slice of blonde running down the back of his head from his crown. So, no red. His name was Adrian Richardson. So, again, no red. About the only thing about him that had anything to do with the colour was his blood. It had been evident on many occasions when his temper had been lost.

Aren't misplaced things always under the sofa?

He was called Red for two reasons. One, he hated his given name. I could sympathise right there. His dislike of both Adrian and Richardson gave him cause to find a pseudonym. Or alias, perhaps. Two, he said so. He'd told us that was his name when he arrived and it was all he'd answer to. Calling him Adrian or Adie or Rickysardiney, as Percy had once attempted, would tick him off good and proper.

Percy lost a tooth for that. Red lost about a week and a half. Good ol' staff dental care and Room 101.

When he was calm, he was talkative. Funny. Smart. But anything could set him off. A look. A tone. A knock or brush past. All completely innocuous and all just the thing to twang his last nerve and let the rest of us feel the vibrations.

He was also strong. For a man of similar build to me, and I'm neither big nor small – just an ordinary, average guy – he had incredible strength. It only came into play, if play can be a type of chaos, when he was irked. Our first demonstration was not long after he arrived.

He'd not really said much for the first couple of weeks. He'd kept out of everyone's way, staying in a corner of the recreation room and avoiding eye contact. He'd initially aimed for the Cornercopias' corner, those delightful delusionals that stared at a particular spot on the floor, expecting something to happen. Nothing was going to or, at least, had so far, but they kept their vigil and kept to their territory. Red had only neared their area and immediately veered off, as if knowing instinctively he really should avoid it lest he prompt an uprising or join the Cornercopias' ranks.

Once he'd found another corner to hide in, he'd sit there daily. He'd sometimes stare at his own piece of floor, perhaps waiting for something to rise up like his neighbours. Otherwise, he'd look out of the window or examine his fingernails, occasionally picking at the quicks or chewing them down.

No one bothered him. We all knew that if someone wanted their own space, you gave it. Phillipa, Philly from Frostrup (which I think is in Denmark, though she had no trace of an accent and, I think, only said she was from there for the alliteration) sat by his side once. They ignored each other, with neither uttering a single word. That wasn't unusual with Philly. She often sat next to someone without speaking, even if the other person tried to strike up the spark of a dialogue. The spark would stutter and die with no response other than a meagre smile. Philly liked the company but not the conversation. As such, she was the perfect companion for someone who didn't want to be disturbed. Apart from the one time, however, she didn't return to his side.

I don't think he'd spoken to her, but you can sometimes feel when a person is cold towards you. You can feel the chill permeate your skin with nothing being said or done to actually show its there. Maybe Philly felt that from Red. Either way, she didn't sit next to him again.

Then, just shy of a fortnight later, he stood and turned to the room. He waited for the residents to notice, looking around expectantly at them. His posture was commanding and, if you did glance his way, you'd be aware he was about to say something important. I was just returning from my toilet break, bladder relieved, and immediately noticed. And waited. When the room was his, he spoke.

"My name is Red. That's what you will call me and only what you'll call me."

Then, he sat down again. Everyone, including me, was expecting something more... expansive. We were disappointed. He didn't say anything for the next forty five minutes, then he stood again and walked over to Wey.

"Hi," he said, Wey relating the conversation to me later. "I'm Red. Who are you?"

In turn, he went around the whole room asking the same question. He'd continue the chat for a few more sentences, then smile and move on. Eventually, people started to queue up to tell him, knowing he'd be coming to them in turn and eager for someone to know them. To know anything about them, even if it was only their name and what they did once upon a time in the big wide world. It made them feel less alone or isolated. We were a family in here, but still longed for out there.

Once we, the residents, had had our chance, he moved on to the staff. Not something I'd have necessarily done as, apart from Jeremy and maybe a couple of others, the orderlies were people one avoided. Red wouldn't know that, of course. There'd been the odd altercation during his time here, but only minor ones. A cross word or resistance to taking meds, things that happened fairly regularly. There'd been nothing to really prompt any real outburst from anyone.

I watched his interaction with trepidation. I didn't know I had real reason to worry, thinking only that they'd like to play with him. Taunting or ignoring him. He was still new, not that such treatment was deserved at any time.

It went smoothly. I could see the mocking smirks on the staff's faces as he said the same thing to them he'd said to everyone. I was surprised when they answered without sarcasm finding its way into their words.

And that was that. For three... no four days, nothing happened.

Then Philly tripped and fell against Caspian.

Caspian was an orderly who seemed to think he was Percy's student. He was a mountain of a man who made Jeremy appear diminutive. He had a shock of cropped white hair, naturally coloured, and hands as big as both of mine. He would always smile when Percy was being Percy, and would be as spiteful as he could get away with when his mentor was in the same room. For the rest of the time, he was as awkward, dismissive and obnoxious as most of his colleagues but, when Percy was there, Caspian turned the shithead dial up to full.

Philly's stumble was purely the results of her sneezing while she'd been yawning. She'd lost her balance and fallen, though the word was a little strong for the slight falter in her step, against him. He was drinking from his mug of coffee at the time. Nothing was spilled, either on him or the floor, but he reacted as if it had.

"You stupid bitch," he roared, pushing her back.

Phillipa tumbled back, hitting the back of one of the chairs before then hitting the floor. Caspian stormed forward and threw his mug down at her head. It missed, smashing against the tiles, but the still hot liquid splashed her face. Luckily, no fragments of ceramic followed the coffee, sparing her any injuries, though the shock of the coffee was enough for her to cry out.

I, along with some others, moved to help her, but Red was both closest and fastest. He took Philly's arm and started to help her up. Caspian swore at him, telling him to leave 'the bitch' alone, but Red ignored the orderly. Caspian pushed him back, breaking his grip on Philly and causing her to fall back down.

Red recovered and went back to her side, starting to help her again.

"I said, leave her alone," Caspian spat, pushing Red once again.

Red went back down and sat for a few seconds before moving again. I saw his features set as he clenched his teeth. I wanted to tell him no, don't. It wasn't worth it. I wasn't wanting to not help Philly, but if he had any sort of outburst, it would mean repercussions for both of them. Caspian would pout and curse, but it would be short lived. He'd get himself another coffee, and leave Phillipa to clean up the mess he'd made. The matter would be over.

Red didn't know that. If he had, I don't know if the next sequence of events would have happened.

Red climbed to his feet slowly, his head down. Once standing, he looked up at Caspian, the only way you could look at the huge man.

He didn't speak as he took three steps forward to stand in front of the orderly. Caspian laughed and went to push the patient once more. His hand pressed against Red's chest and I saw the action of trying to force the smaller man back, but Red didn't move. Caspian pushed again and, again, Red remained stationary. There wasn't even the slightest movement from his to indicate a large hand was applying force to his body.

Caspian tried both hands, leaning into the smaller man. Still, it had no effect. Red was impassive and unpassable. Panting, Caspian stopped his futile attempts and moved so he was almost nose to nose with Red. I hadn't seen anyone stand up to a staff member like this before and couldn't help the thrill I felt. They weren't immune and we had a voice! That voice might quickly be silenced, though it was voiceless already as Red was yet to say anything, but it was being heard.

"When I push, you move," the orderly growled.

Thank you so much to sseasaltss for the brilliant starter to this chapter of Sincopation! I do love writing these, and this starter sentence was perfect.

Don't forget to send me any random sentences you have lying around your head so you can visit Sin in his asylum too!