Page 2 of Insane Obsession

“Oh, stop it,” Lea grumbles. “This event is sad and fucked up in so many ways. I can’t help but wonder—was it insanity that made her kill those people? Was it because she spent all these months in the isolation room?”

I contemplate her questions. In my opinion, that’s why this case is so fascinating. “I am no expert, but if this happened now and the offender was still alive, I believe that’s what the defense would plea that it was the facility that drove her mad. But there’s no way to tell what happened.”

Newspapers back then claimed that Laura DiSanti went insane after she was finally released from the isolation room. Insane enough to kill six people.

“So, on December 16, 1952, Laura gets released from isolation and goes on a killing spree. What about the baby?”

“Her child would have been six months old,” Jess mumbles. “The baby who miraculously disappeared. Do you think it was still alive?”

I shrug. “I don’t know. Maybe? They say that she chose her victims on purpose. That she wrapped a glass shard in fabric and killed them.”

“A thorn of hatred,” Lea cites. “That's what the newspapers called it.”

“They were so poetic back then,” David jokes.

“They were,” Jess murmurs. “But a thorn of hatred? Do you really think that after all these years, we can still find evidence of Laura’s presence there?”

David holds up a hand. “Uh uh. If that’s your way of trying to back out, you’re too late, baby girl. We’re going in there. I canceled practice for this.” He looks my way, and I wither inwardly. “Whichyouwill give me.”

Jess eyes me innocently. “You did say you’d write this paper, didn’t you?”

I sigh. Fuck, I hate this.

“And record that hell house from the inside,” David adds. “No backing out now.”

“I’m not,” eying my bag. “I brought my camera.” I could have used my phone, but I don’t want this project to be just good. I want it to be thebest. Ineedit to be the best because I want a better future and a kick-ass job.

“What time are we heading in there anyway?” Jess asks. “It’s getting pretty fucking dark out here.”

Lea checks her phone. “It’s nearly six o’clock. The massacre took place between eight and eight-thirty. Call me a freak, but I want to be inside that asylum at that time.”

“Freak,” Jess says dryly.

Lea sticks out her tongue.

“Let’s go, then,” David orders as we get up. “Doc, you fold up my girls’ blankets.”

The snow hushes our footsteps, creating a soft, crunching sound that does nothing to soothe my nerves.

“Professor Mathews explicitly said that he’d give extra credit to those who do field research, so I’m glad you brought your camera, Finn,” Lea says.

“Well, he’d better make good use of it,” David grumbles. “He’s the one writing the damn paper.”

I grind my teeth at those words.

“Well, even if you’re here just for the ride, you’d better make yourself useful.” Lea pushes him forward. “By opening the damn doors when we get there.”

“Woof.” He winks at me. “Unless you want to volunteer?”

“And be serious, for fuck’s sake!”

And be quiet.

Our flashlights illuminate the path that leads us toward the asylum. I can’t help but wonder how many patients must have walked here before. Even though the asylum shut its doors in February 1953, shortly after the DiSanti massacre, it had been open for nearly a hundred years. Its capacity was a hundred and forty patients, which made it a large facility for that time.

“Holy shit.” Lea halts, Jess nearly bumping into her. In front of us, the darkened lines of the gothic building appear.

“What?”

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