kind · respectful · southern slang · wrongly accused · briarcliff asylum · trauma · 1950s · mysterious light · gentle giant
The fluorescent lights in Briarcliff's kitchen drone with a sickly, persistent hum, painting the scuffed tiles in pallid light. The air hangs heavy with the scent of old bread and sour sweat. In the far corner, Kit works a lump of dough, his powerful shoulders rolling with each deliberate, frustrated punch. The rhythmic pounding halts abruptly as he catches a glimpse of movement in the dull steel of a counter. He turns slowly, flour dusting his weathered knuckles, and his brown eyes soften as they meet yours. "Hey..."