Asylum Rules: Don't Strike First

The heavy blade of my twelveinch hunting knife slammed into the solid wood headboard. The razorsharp edge vibrated less than a quarterinch from Aspen's wide, trembling pupil.

I tilted my head, watching the erratic heave of her chest. "What are you waiting for? Make your move." My knuckles practically hummed with the need to connect.

It had been three entire days since I last felt the satisfying crunch of bone under my fists. Six months ago, I gave this little imposter a single slap.

In return, my biological brothers tossed me into a psychiatric ward like a bag of rotting trash. Now, I was out.

I had seamlessly transformed into the family’s perfectly obedient little puppet. If my brothers told me to march straight into a fire, I wouldn't even blink.

The doctors at that hellhole had drilled one absolute rule into my skull: I could never, ever throw the first punch. They had to strike first.

Since Aspen was currently cowering like a pathetic coward, I had no choice but to "sleepwalk" into her bedroom at midnight, gripping my twelveinch hunting knife.

I stood silently over her bed, practically begging her to break the rule first. The heavy bedroom door was kicked open. My brothers stormed in, but their momentum died instantly.

Their eyes locked onto the razor edge of my knife, now resting flush against Aspen’s throbbing carotid artery.

Cold sweat instantly bled through the fabric of their bespoke designer shirts. "Karrigan… Karrigan, please. We're sorry.

We were wrong," they choked out, their voices trembling as their knees literally gave out beneath them. The corners of my mouth stretched into a slow, chilling smile.

Apologizing now? Way too fucking late. Chapter 1 The day my second brother came to pick me up from the psychiatric hospital, I was wearing a faded, baggy hospital gown.

My hands were rigidly folded in front of me, practically trained into submission. I kept my hollow gaze locked on the floor, looking exactly like a thoroughly broken puppet.

He scanned me up and down.

A look of grim satisfaction settled on his face. "Do you realize what you did wrong?" I nodded mechanically, reciting the exact script Alaric had drilled into me. "I'm sorry.

I was jealous of Aspen. That's why I paid those street thugs to harass her. I was wrong, and I'll never dare to do it again." The perfectly calibrated hint of grievance.

The flawlessly measured remorse. Tears brimmed in my eyes, held back only by sheer, overwhelming shame. I had spent hours mimicking Aspen's signature pathetic act to get this right.

He bought it. His expensive leather shoes clicked against the cheap, bleachreeking linoleum of the asylum.

The custom cufflinks on his tailored suit caught the harsh fluorescent light, flashing with pure, distilled arrogance. He genuinely believed he was in total control.

He had no idea he was inviting the abyss right back into his home. He raised his hand, patting the top of my head like he was dispensing charity to a stray dog. "Good girl.

If you hadn't crossed the line so badly this time, our eldest brother would never have locked you up in this place.

From now on, you will get along with Aspen." I leaned into his palm, nuzzling against it exactly the way Aspen always did. A genuine, relaxed smile spread across his face.

Neither of them noticed Director Thorne standing by the exit, violently suppressing a fullbody shudder. I tilted my head, sliding my gaze toward him.

A bead of cold sweat instantly broke out and tracked down his pale forehead. "I—If you don't need anything else, sir, I won't interrupt your family reunion any longer," Thorne stammered.

My second brother gave a curt nod. "You did a highly satisfactory job.

Our family's investment funds will be wired to your facility's account shortly." "T—Thank you!" Thorne practically tripped over his own feet as he turned to speedwalk down the corridor. "The Director sure is quick on his feet…" I murmured.

Thud. Thorne wiped out hard on the slick floor.

Then, right in front of my brother's baffled stare, the director scrambled up and sprinted down the hall like a literal demon was breathing down his neck. "Can we go home now?" I asked.

My brother looked down at my submissive posture and nodded.

But he didn't miss the chance to drop a warning. "If you ever lay a hand on Aspen again, I'll be the one dragging you back to this ward, let alone our eldest brother." "Okay." I gave a tiny, compliant nod.

We arrived at the sprawling estate I used to call home. I stopped dead at the front door, refusing to cross the threshold. Aspen had made it crystal clear: this was her house.

The parents belonged to her. The brothers belonged to her. I was just the intruder. How could I just stroll into someone else's territory?

I waited until my second brother explicitly commanded, "Come in." Only then did I plaster on a look of hesitant, overwhelming gratitude. "Are you sure it's okay?" It worked.

A flash of pity crossed his face, his jaw tightening as the rims of his eyes reddened slightly.

But the memory of my past viciousness must have flared up, because he instantly swallowed the guilt and hardened his expression.

It didn't take long for my eldest brother and Aspen to walk through the front door. "I brought Karrigan back," my second brother announced. "Has it already been six months?" my eldest brother asked.

Already? I had clawed my way through absolute hell in that ward, counting every excruciating second, yet to them, the time had just flown by. "Yeah.

Director Thorne actually had to call and remind me this morning.

I think we even left her in there three days past her release date." My eldest brother shrugged dismissively, like forgetting me in that flesheating meat grinder of an asylum was nothing more than a minor scheduling oversight.

He dragged a heavy, scrutinizing gaze over my frame. I immediately dipped into a perfectly obedient halfbow. The second Aspen spotted me, pure terror twisted her delicate features.

She practically launched herself behind my eldest brother's back, using him as a human shield. He patted her shoulder, his touch protective. "Don't be scared. I'm here.

If she even thinks about bullying you again, I swear to God, she will rot in that psych ward until the day she dies." He glared at me like I was a disease he couldn't wait to eradicate.

My fingers subconsciously dug into the fabric over my sternum. So, even a certified psychopath can still feel physical chest pain. "I'll be good.

I'll listen to every word." I kept my gaze wide and painfully sincere, projecting the exact image of a broken, pitiable stray.

Chapter 2 My eldest brother shot me a look of pure disgust before leading Aspen away to wash up and eat.

Dinner, entirely unsurprisingly, consisted exclusively of Aspen’s favorite dishes. Aspen swallowed her lingering fear and pushed a plate of bloody, rare steak right in front of me.

It was dripping with a thick, rich peanut sauce—an ingredient I was deathly allergic to. "Here, Karrigan.

Eat up." My eldest brother rested a protective hand on her back. "Aspen, I raised you myself. You aren't beneath anyone in this house.

You don't need to try and win anybody's favor." Aspen ducked her head, picking at her food as fake tears pooled in her eyes.

I stared at the scene, calculating the sheer absurdity of it. They had handed her the world on a silver platter. Every single meal was catered to her exact palate.

So why on earth did they act like she was the victim here? Dr. Alaric had told me once: The kids who know how to put on a show get all the candy.

I sat there with perfect posture, staring at the lethal slab of meat and audibly swallowing.

Then, I delivered the line that made the entire room freeze. "Am I… allowed to eat this?" My eldest brother stopped chewing. My second brother’s hand hovered rigidly over his plate.

Aspen’s jaw clenched so hard I could almost hear her molars grinding.

Seeing no objections, I obediently picked up my heavy silver fork and knife and began to eat, carefully avoiding the peanut sauce. I was starving.

It had been an eternity since I’d consumed actual, untainted food. Right then, I could have inhaled the entire mahogany table.

Watching my feral, desperate bites, my brothers' expressions darkened into heavy frowns. "Karrigan, did they not feed you in there?" my second brother asked, his tone clipped.

I shook my head, keeping my eyes glued to my plate. "They did. But it's really hard to find any actual chunks of meat in the rotting industrial food waste…" Clang.

My eldest brother slammed his silverware down against his porcelain plate. "Karrigan, who exactly are you trying to disgust right now? Our family funds that psychiatric facility.

Director Thorne wouldn't dare lay a finger on you, no matter how bold he is! Can you at least put a limit on your pathological lying?" Wouldn't dare?

Eldest brother, have you ever been strapped to a rusty restraint chair? Have you ever experienced illegal, highvoltage electroconvulsive therapy?

Have you ever been thrown into a cage with starving pit bulls, forced to fight them off just for a scrap of moldy bread? Of course he hadn't.

But Aspen, tucked safely beneath his protective wing, was smiling. If she hadn't ducked her head so low, he would have seen a grin so wide it practically split her face in two.

I sat frozen in my highbacked chair, my hands hovering aimlessly. I didn't dare utter a single syllable, staring at his furious face with wide, terrified eyes.

My second brother's brows pulled into a tight V. He turned to our eldest brother. "She just got back today.

Can we not just have one normal family dinner?" My eldest brother forced a harsh breath out through his nose, swallowing his rage, though the disgust in his eyes only deepened.

My second brother shook his head in resignation and nudged a basket of warm rolls toward me. "If you're hungry, just eat more." I looked up at him and flashed a sickeningly sweet, perfectly hollow smile. "Thank you." His pupils visibly contracted.

I saw his hand flinch over the table, the muscles in his jaw ticking as he stared at me.

His breath hitched visibly, his fingers curling into tight fists over the white linen tablecloth.

It was as if the realization that a single scrap of basic decency could make me smile like that had physically punched the air out of his lungs.

Even my eldest brother’s gaze faltered for a microsecond, blinking rapidly before his expression iced over again, refusing to soften his stance.

Later, after I had scrubbed the hospital stench off my skin and was just about to pull the duvet back, Aspen showed up. "Karrigan, I brought you some warm milk." She barged into my room without knocking.

I obediently took the glass from her hands. "Thank you." Those two words had never once crossed my lips when dealing with her.

Every single olive branch she extended was always laced with poison.

Aspen blinked, momentarily thrown off by the lack of resistance, before a cruel little smirk pulled at her lips. "Wow.

You really have turned into a perfectly trained pet, haven't you?" The next second, her hand deliberately slipped. The entire glass of milk sloshed over my clean pajamas. "Oh no!

Karrigan, why didn't you hold it steady?" Malice danced in her eyes, but I didn't even flinch. Emboldened by my silence, she strolled over to my nightstand.

She picked up the only gift my brothers had ever given me the year I returned to this family, and casually tossed it straight into the trash can.

I still didn't move a single muscle. Chapter 3 Aspen scanned the room, her eyes finally locking onto the framed photo on my desk.

It was the only picture I had with my biological parents. This time, I moved. I clamped my hand around her wrist. A triumphant smirk stretched across Aspen's face.

Her free hand snatched the frame and slammed it into the hardwood floor. Glass shattered everywhere. "Aww, are you mad?" She tilted her head, batting her eyelashes. "Hit me then.

If you have the guts, hit me." A naked, blatant provocation. As a certified psych ward patient, the very first thing they taught me was obedience.

I lunged forward, twisting my fingers into her meticulously styled blonde curls, forcing her head up. My arm swung back. I delivered a fullforce backhand directly to her cheekbone.

The sickening crack echoed through the room as the impact launched her completely off her feet, dropping her hard onto the plush rug.

Aspen lay there, stunned by the sheer violence of it. It took her a full five seconds to boot up her act. "Help! Help me, please!" The heavy mahogany door flew open.

Both of my brothers stormed in, immediately shoving Aspen behind them like I was holding an assault rifle. "Karrigan, what the hell is wrong with you?" my eldest brother barked, his jaw clenched so tight the muscle jumped.

I calmly folded my hands in front of my stomach, dropping into my perfectly obedient posture. "She told me to hit her." Aspen clutched her swelling cheek, tears streaming flawlessly down her face. "I just came in to bring her some warm milk!

I saw her throwing the gift you guys bought her straight into the trash. And then… then she tried to rip up the only picture of mom and dad!

I tried to stop her, and she just attacked me!" The discarded gift sat clearly in the trash can. The shattered frame and the photo lay in ruins on the floor.

Irrefutable physical evidence. There was no way I could defend myself against that setup. "Karrigan… do you really still hate us this much?

Hate this family?" My second brother rubbed his temples, his shoulders sagging heavily. "It wasn't Mom and Dad's fault that you were switched at birth.

It wasn't our fault…" Did I hate them? Probably. I spent ten years lost on the outside, bouncing around hellish foster homes.

Those junkie foster parents forced me out onto the streets to steal. When I got a little older, I ran with slum gangs, participating in armed robberies just to survive.

Getting caught and beaten half to death was a light punishment. I scrambled for my life at the absolute bottom of the food chain like a crushed insect.

Meanwhile, this family pampered my little imposter with limitless luxury and affection. How could I not hate them? I hated that they didn't find me sooner.

I hated that I was discarded, and the second I was gone, they just bought a shiny new replacement.

And I hated that every single time Aspen pulled one of her sick little stunts, they refused to believe a word I said.

They always chose her. "If we knew you were going to turn out like this, we should have just let you get beaten to death in the streets!" my eldest brother snapped.

He finally said the quiet part out loud. I tilted my head up, my face falling back into that eerie, abnormal obedience. "Aspen threw the gift into the trash.

Aspen smashed the photo frame on the floor." "You—" My eldest brother stepped forward, his fists whiteknuckled, his face turning an angry shade of red.

I calmly pulled out my official hospital discharge papers and held them up. "I swear to you on my honor as a clinically diagnosed psychiatric patient, I am not lying." Psychiatric patient?

Both of their pupils instantly dilated.

My second brother snatched the folded paper from my hands, his fingers visibly trembling as his eyes scanned the diagnosis. "This… this looks real…" I nodded firmly. "Dr.

Alaric told me that patients like me have to be perfectly obedient and submissive on the outside.

That's the only way people will let us exist." My eldest brother shot a dismissive glance at the medical seal. A cold, mocking scoff left his throat.

He clearly didn't buy a single word. "Obedient? Submissive? Fine. Pack your things right now and move out of this room.

Aspen is taking it." This room was the ultimate sanctuary my biological parents built for me. My mother designed the layout; my father oversaw the renovations.

It was their welcoming gift to bring me back into the family. Aspen had tried to seize this space countless times, and every single time, I had fought tooth and nail to defend it.

But today… "Okay." I gave a small, compliant nod. Without hesitating for a fraction of a second, I turned around and started packing up the pathetic handful of belongings I owned.

My eldest brother, my second brother, and even Aspen froze perfectly still. They all knew this room was my absolute bottom line. Chapter 4 I actually packed up and left.

Aspen practically vibrated with excitement; she could finally claim the master suite as her own.

On the surface, she carefully tugged at my eldest brother's sleeve. "Can I really stay here?" My eldest brother’s jaw tightened. "If she can sleep in there, why can't you?" But turning back to me, he clearly wasn't finished.

He pointed a rigid finger toward the cramped utility closet downstairs. "From now on, you sleep in there." I gave a compliant nod, scooped up my thin blanket, and trotted right in.

My eldest brother's raised hand froze midair. The muscles in his neck strained as he watched me neatly arrange my bedding on the dusty closet floor.

His chest heaved like a boiler about to blow. I couldn't comprehend it. Wasn't this exactly what he wanted? What right did he have to be pissed off?

Just as I lay down, his voice snapped through the air. "Hold on." I froze, perfectly still.

The next second, Verna, the housekeeper, dragged in a black plastic garbage bag filled with reeking household waste and dumped it directly over my thin blanket. "Now you can sleep." My eldest brother stared down at me, his face a stony mask.

He was absolutely certain I would snap, waiting for the "crazy" to slip out. Too bad for him.

I just curled up in my clothes right next to the rotting garbage, closed my eyes, and within minutes, fell into a deep, steady rhythm of sleep. His jaw practically hit the floor.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on a plush mattress in one of the pristine guest rooms.

My second brother sat by the bed, muttering under his breath. "How severely was she sleepdeprived?

She’s been out for ten straight hours…" He noticed me blinking and leaned forward, his brow creased. "Karrigan, are you actually…" He couldn't force the word out.

But I knew exactly what he was choking on. "I'm clinically insane, but my selfesteem is perfectly intact." He was left utterly speechless.

Of course, my eldest brother wasn't going to buy my act that easily. He pushed my limits relentlessly for the next two weeks. If he pointed left, I marched left.

If he handed me a plate of plain boiled rice, I didn't dare reach for the roast chicken.

He even went as far as dropping a fat, writhing caterpillar—my ultimate phobia—directly onto my palm.

My entire body went into violent tremors, but I didn't dare shake the disgusting bug off my skin. His expression grew darker with every passing day. Finally, his paranoia snapped.

He pulled Aspen aside and asked, "Did you actually stage that photo frame incident?" Aspen had never faced a shred of suspicion in her entire life.

She practically choked on the grievance.

That very night, she slipped into the kitchen to viciously scheme with Verna, our greedy housekeeper. "Doesn't your son want a bigger house?" Aspen whispered. "Do this right, and the money on this card is yours." Verna’s eyes lit up with pure greed.

Over the years, the sheer amount of hush money she had squeezed out of my misery could have bought her a real estate empire. Verna didn't waste a single second.

That exact night, she crept into my dark room. Her thick fingers, sporting rough, jagged nails, clamped down on the soft flesh of my underarm like rusty iron pliers.

The agonizing pinch ripped me straight out of my sleep. "Don't scream!" I followed the rules. I didn't make a sound. I just stared up at her with wide, dead eyes.

My absolute lack of resistance seemed to inject her with a sick surge of confidence. Verna let out a raspy, malicious chuckle. "Get up.

Take your clothes off." I pushed myself upright into a seated position, but my hands stayed firmly in my lap. Dr.

Alaric had ingrained it into me: A girl has to maintain her physical boundaries, no matter what twisted environment she's in. Verna’s face flushed with ugly anger.

She pulled out a thick steel sewing needle, the silver glinting in the moonlight. "You remember how this feels, right? Strip, or I'll poke you full of holes." I tilted my head.

A wave of suffocating memories crashed over my brain. A few years ago, I came down with a severe infection.

My brothers had packed up Aspen for a luxury ski trip, casually dumping me onto Verna with a 102degree fever. I was practically paralyzed in bed, burning from the inside out.

For three agonizing days, she didn't bring me a single crumb of food or a drop of water. My throat felt like cracked glass. I was genuinely circling the drain.

Every time my delirious, exhausted brain tried to slip into unconsciousness, she would sneak in and jab that rusted needle right into my skin. That time, I actually almost died.

Chapter 5 When my brothers finally returned, I told them everything Verna had done. My eldest brother's response was a vicious backhand across my face.

I found out later that while I was burning alive in my own personal hell, Verna had been calling them every single day.

She sobbed about my "unreasonable tantrums," crying about how I was physically abusing her, even carving fake scratches into her own arms to sell the lie.

That was the exact moment I realized my place in this family's hierarchy. I ranked lower than the hired help. "Scared now?

Are you going to be a good little girl and listen?" Verna’s fleshy face twisted into an ugly, asymmetrical sneer. Dr. Alaric had a theory about bottomfeeders like her.

They spend their entire lives suppressing their true nature, bowing and scraping for crumbs.

But the second you hand them a microscopic shred of power over someone else, they mutate into pure, distilled malice.

He also said that when dealing with pure malice, pleasantries are entirely unnecessary. My hand snapped out, clamping down on her thick neck.

I slammed her skull against the freezing plaster wall, the impact echoing like a tolling bell.

In the split second she was stunned, I snatched the steel needle from her grip, drove it straight into the swollen vein on her thigh, and gave it a vicious, halfcircle twist.

A guttural, piglike squeal ripped through the dead silence of the mansion. "Shh.

No loud noises allowed," I whispered. "Disturbing the peace gets you locked in the icewater isolation cell…" But it seemed she couldn't comprehend human speech anymore.

I frowned, twisted my fingers into her coarse hair, and began dragging her dead weight toward the door. The commotion jolted my brothers awake.

They practically tumbled down the grand staircase. "Karrigan… Karrigan, what are you doing?" My second brother’s face drained of all color. "She's so loud.

She's so loud I can't sleep. Where did I put my twelveinch hunting knife?

I need to cut out her tongue." I watched a physical shudder ripple from his designer loafers straight up his spine.

Pure panic locked his joints before he lunged forward, desperately grabbing my arms to stop me. "There is no knife!" he stammered. "Karrigan, I'll throw her out for you, okay?

If I throw her outside, she won't be loud anymore!" I tilted my head, blinking blankly. "Is that how it works?" It took a pathetic mix of coaxing and pleading before he finally managed to pry Verna's scalp from my whiteknuckled grip.

He hauled her bleeding, sobbing form out the front door. Just like he promised, the noise stopped instantly!

Left to my own devices, I padded back to my closet, crawled onto my mattress, and went to sleep. Within minutes, my soft, rhythmic snores filled the tiny space.

The rest of them just stood there, trading horrified stares.

A suffocating, deathlike silence choked the entire mansion. "Is she going to use her crazy act to beat me exactly like she beat Verna?" Aspen didn't close her eyes once that night.

My eldest brother sat by her bed the entire time. My eldest brother simply refused to believe my sanity was permanently broken.

After all, I had been perfectly normal when he signed the commitment papers. "Could she be faking it?" Aspen’s whisper hit his exact core paranoia. "There's only one way to find out," he muttered.

My second brother had spent the night guarding my door. He emerged from the hallway, dark circles bruised under his eyes.

Spotting the two of them whispering like conspirators, a flash of irritation tightened his jaw. "What are you two plotting?" he demanded.

My eldest brother shot him a freezing glare. "Stay out of this.

If she's faking this psychosis just to hurt people, I'll make sure she's ruined beyond repair." My second brother opened his mouth, but Aspen beat him to the punch, her eyes brimming with fresh tears. "The law doesn't punish the criminally insane, right?

She hates me so much… what if she's setting this up so she can kill me and get away with it?" A cold chill visibly shuddered through my second brother's shoulders.

Given my track record of absolute cruelty, it wasn't completely outside the realm of possibility. He snapped his mouth shut.

My eldest brother pulled Verna aside, giving her a set of quiet, rapid instructions. The closet door clicked open.

I stepped out into the hallway, locked eyes with the group of them, and flashed a sicklysweet smile. "Morning." The word was terrifyingly soft and sugary.

All four of them flinched simultaneously.

My second brother took a hesitant halfstep forward. "Karrigan, do you know what you did last night?" I tilted my head, the smile never dropping. "I think I had a really wonderful dream." All the blood drained from his face.

Chapter 6 Verna’s legs were practically giving out as she hurried to follow my eldest brother’s orders, carrying in a heavy pot of boiling, thick French cheese soup. "Karrigan, come eat." My eldest brother… he was actually smiling at me.

I glanced toward the window. The morning sun was still hanging low in the east. "Having cheese soup for breakfast today.

Do you like it, Karrigan?" I nodded. "I like it." I had never possessed the right to dislike anything, had I? The thick soup bubbled heavily, popping with hot steam.

The rich scent snagged my appetite. I was starving. I wanted to eat. But no one handed me a spoon or a fork.

I looked up at my brothers with wide, innocent eyes. "I heard this soup tastes much better if you just use your bare hands." My eldest brother locked his eyes onto my face, refusing to miss a single microexpression.

Aspen and Verna suddenly realized exactly what he was doing. Identical, malicious smirks curled onto their faces.

My second brother opened his mouth to speak, but ultimately swallowed his words. "Really?" My face was a mask of pure, untainted curiosity. "Really." My eldest brother's reply sounded dead serious.

Aspen turned her head away. She wanted it to look like she couldn't bear to watch, but her shoulders were shaking from suppressing a laugh.

Let's see how you keep faking it now, Karrigan. My second brother started to panic. Seeing my unblinking, naive stare, he covertly tugged at my eldest brother's sleeve.

My eldest brother inhaled sharply, his voice dropping several degrees. "If she's got the guts, let her fake it all the way to the end." For a long moment, every single eye in the room was pinned to me.

Acting completely oblivious, I reached my hand directly out… Sizzle. "Enough!" My second brother was the first to jump up, lunging to stop me.

All the blood instantly vanished from my eldest brother's face. He refused to believe my mind was genuinely broken. I blinked innocently. I had no intention of hogging all the food.

Why was he getting so worked up? I plunged my bare hand straight into the boiling, bubbling pot of thick cheese.

Without flinching a single muscle, I fished out two scalding chunks of bonein meat and casually dropped them onto my brothers' pristine, goldrimmed plates