Kyo was persistent in believing that he was one of the most intelligent men that had ever set foot in the hospital.
And it was true, he was certainly one of the most intelligent of all patients. Even some of the doctors, he was sure, couldn't match up to his mental abilities. Like his psychiatrist, who after two years and two months, hadn't done a thing. Not that any of this was important to Kyo, there was nothing wrong with him. He didn't need some 'cure' or medicine. He needed understanding, for these people to realise that he was, indeed, God.
Most of the time, he was left alone by both patients and staff due to his occasional outbreaks. But recently the young man had been well behaved, quiet almost.
The voices had been distant, and it almost annoyed him. Kyo was sure that it was just their way of plotting something, trying to ruin his prophecy.
The morning when they came back, he was almost delighted. It meant that he had to cleanse himself now, carve prophesies into his body to keep the devils away.
This, too, wasn't a problem. By two years, he had quite a collection of sharp objects, ranging from razorblades, to stanley knives, to simple cutlery. Some things he stole from staff, others he'd found.
Now, he was quite happily sat underneath a large green tree in the garden. It was the quiet time, the personal time. The time for him to get the doubters, the unbelievers out of his body.
Without hesitation, he pressed the blade of a razor into his already scared arm, outlining a 'p', in English. The blood quickly started to flow.
