• Date joined:2010-04-10
  • City:FLG
  • Gender:Male
  • Alignment:PC
  • Points:10508 Points
  • Ranked:Currently Disabled

"Wrong," Elodin said dismissively, turning to walk down the hall. "It is because of what we study. Because of the way we train our minds to move."

"So ciphering and grammar make people crazy," I said, taking care to phrase it as a statement.

Elodin stopped walking and wrenched open the nearest door. Panicked screaming burst out into the hallway. "... IN ME! THEY'RE IN ME! THEY'RE IN ME! THEY'RE IN ME!" Through the open door I could see a young man thrashing against the leather restraints that bound him to the bed at wrist, waist, neck, and ankle.

"Trigonometry and diagrammed logic don't do this," Elodin said, looking me in the eye.

"THEY'RE IN ME! THEY'RE IN ME! THEY'RE IN—"The screaming continued in an unbroken chant, like the endless, mindless barking of a dog at night. "—ME! THEY'RE IN ME! THEY'RE IN ME! THEY'RE—"

Elodin closed the door. Though I could still hear the screaming faintly through the thick door, the near-silence was stunning. "Do you know why they call this place the Rookery?" Elodin asked.

I shook my head.

"Because it's where you go if you're a-ravin'." He smiled a wild smile. He laughed a terrible laugh.