"OI! Que! Up an center!" Barked the disgruntled orderly as he brandished his baton with a grin of a mean bastard. The cell block buzzed for a few seconds before being opened by two guards. "Hmm, has it been six years already? Felt like I just went out for a piss" The patient that the orderly called "Que" was sitting in the padded cell, arms bound by a straight jacket. "Hilarious..Now get the f*ck up.." Rumbled the orderly while tugging the man up by his jacket, Que chuckling. "Careful mate, if I didn't know any better, I would think this was a come on-OOF!" Que's quip was cut short by the baton being forced against his stomach harshly, falling to his knees and coughing. "I don't got time for this shite Que, you got a meeting with the board..".
"Lovely life yeah? Mushy food and mind pills to turn you into a bloody lousy excuse human being..This is Mercy's wings mental correctional facility for the criminally insane. Now your probably wondering why I am being shoved down a white hall by an orderly who everyone calls "butch" while he slaps me with that goddamned baton, well it started like any old story, love. Well let's get formal first, I mean what's your rush mate? Im Ivan Que, the sorriest bastard you will meet in your lifetime. It was back when I was the ripe age of twenty four years old..Oh you gotta be kidding me..."
Ivan's inner thoughts ceased as he was shoved into the board room that held all of the chief psychiatric professionals of the facility. Que simply chuckled while walking over to the orange chair that was across the room form where they all sat with their pens tapping on their notebooks. "Christ I could really go for a cigarette..Anybody got one?" Que asked while groaning and stretching his legs, only to be met with a bunch of nasty glares and silence. "Ahh, healthy choice I suppose..". The female doctor at the end of the table cleared her throat and spoke up. "Ivan Que, you are here today at this meeting so that we can make the final assessment on whether or not you stable enough to be sent out into the real world once more, or stay here for the rest of your days. So tell us Mr.Que, why is it your in here?".
"I have made myself pretty clear then, and I will now. A Kandaharian soul demon was inside that girl..I tried to perform a pretty old Celtic ritual, I know I know, mixed cultures but hey, that's why they call it bootlegger magic luv.." Ivan chuckled while leaning back and staring at them all, clearly they were unsettled by the talk of witchcraft, knowing it wasn't helping his plea for sanity. "So you performed this..."Ritual" to "save" the little girl's soul..So why is it she had all of her arms, legs and head removed from her body Mr.Que? Was that you.."Saving" her.." The woman spoke with a lump in her throat, clearly she was a mother herself and even talking about something so ghastly was putting her in a state of unease.
"No no no..I was to late, eight years of fighting hell and the unseen evil and it was my first, my first f*ck up..The demon already had her soul, It wasn't just some little girl any more, it was a little brat demon that had to be put down, that breed can only be killed if you chop off everything attached to the torso. Thankfully it wasn't a bloke because I really was not looking forward to cutting off a mate's bullocks.." Ivan admitted while sighing.
"So you STILL think that you are some sort of fallen angel that is supposed to fight the evils of the earth!? Im sorry Mr.Que but clearly you haven't learned anything while at this institute! Im sorry but I don't see any other choice but to have you here for li-" The woman was cut off from her outrage as Ivan spoke in a rather subtle mumble. "og ot eerf ma I ,noitaulave eht dessap I..". The woman smiled suddenly and stamped Ivan's mental profile with a pass. "Well I must congratulate you on your astounding recovery here at our facility Mr.Que! I really think you were one of our most calm patients!" She said with a smile on her face and chuckling, actually happy for Ivan. "Why thank you, Dr.Stillent.." Ivan said with a grin on his face like the Cheshire cat himself.
Ivan walked towards patient customs, his straight jacket undone and was accompanied by two guards.
"As you can see, I am a sorcerer. None of that fake bullocks either, what you know about magic is all a bunch of sh!t..,It's not a wonderful and amazing thing, or something you make a bloody book series about. Magic is the devils work, and the more you use it, the more your soul becomes tainted. Even if your the purest wizard of all time? Your at least looking at purgatory where there is nothingness. Me? When I was twenty four I died by jumping in front of the girl I loved, went to heaven..However they were pretty quick on finding out what kind of magic I was f*cking with, and cast me back down to earth only a day after me own death. Pretty good yeah!? No! My girl didn't remember who I was, didn't have any cool angel powers or some sh!t, and I am now destined to go to hell when I die..Again..I don't plan on going down to that fiery Oz though, maybe...MAYBE if I do enough good, I can at least score somewhere that isn't..Well hell..Ahh, this is me.."
Ivan walked up to the patient possessions till and received his box of his personal items. Finally he stepped out the front doors, dress shoes, black pants, white dress shirt, black tie and his beloved brown jacket were what clothed the Magus. "Bloody hell, London still looks like sh!t.." He grumbled while pulling out his six year old pack of cigarettes and lit one up, the stale taste was overcome with the Ecstasy of having tobacco inhabit his gums and tongue, puffing the smoke, Ivan sighed. "Oooooh...Never again will I not have a smoke for that long..".
Ivan smirked like the bastard he was and walked towards the streets of London that were shrouded by the night.