Silence

There once was a lad...his name is not important. What is important is that he was void of emotion. He could read a horroR story without being scared. He could havE a birthday party and not be happy. He coulD lose his mother and not be sad.
But every night he went to bed crying. Nothing he did had purpose. TheRe was no life within him. One day, he did something very bad. He killed someone, just to see what it was like. As he expected, there was nothing in it for him.
Nothing in life could be held dear by him. Nothing in people could be held dear. No matter what he tried, all life seemed empty and hollow. After being taken to a nearby asylum, he was placed in a padded room. For two days, he sat motionless while psychologists monitored him. On the night of the third day, they noticed him crying and smiling. They opened the doors and let someone in to tlak with the young man.
"Why are you smiling." he asked.
"This is my home. Where I belong. No feeling, just plain whiteness. I can relate to this cell."
"But this room isn't anything you can relate to...it's seen so many patients come through...so many memories if it could speak."
"And yet it remains white and soft."
"We clean it."
"No you don't...I can see every splotch of blood...every piece of fecal matter...all the urine...the bile...everything." The psychologist talked with the young man for hours. When he came out, he had turned white, no color in his face. When asked what the young man said, he said nothing, only to remain in his office. Two days later he was found with a sharpened letter opener plunged through his jugular all the way into his throat.
Another psychologist went in to ask this young man about the last psychologist. He gave no replay, but the psychologist noticed blood dripping from the ceiling. Further investigation showed the blood had no clear source. The psychologist felt the need to move the lad, but he refused. The psychologist then proceeded to ask why he would want to remain under a ceiling leaking blood.
His reply was this: "Who wouldn't want to live under a spring of life?" The psychologist left the man alone for a night. When he returned in the morning, the young man was caked in dried blood. He was washed, but he still wanted to remain in his cell. He also requested they stop bringing him food. When they asked why, he simply stated that he did not need it. Other strange things happened around the asylum. Patients disappeared. Entire wings of raving lunatics fell silent. They simply stared at the passing doctors. When asked about this, he said that it was the orderof things falling into place.

THe security team was the first to respond. Normally ignorant of the screams and laughter, the silence was all but crushing to them.
One of them pulled out his firearm, fired a few random shots. He was recorded screaming "All of you! Scream! Laugh! Anything! Do something!" he broke down a short while later, becoming acutely paranoid. AS he was being treated, he eventually fell silent like the others, hi only form of communication being the same empty, slightly amused stare. He still performed his duties, but he was silent, even at home. The rest of the security team fell to the same fate, but the remaining member of the force quit, and not long after shot herself. The young man was questioned by a specialist, but that specialist was never seen again. The remaining team of psychologists planned to hire a hitman to kill the mental patient. When the hardened criminal stepped in with the silenced pistol, he was met with a sadistic sneer. He pulled the trigger, aiming for the heart. THe young man merely laughed as his lifeblood bled out.
"I'm heartless, didn't they tell you?" he was recorded saying. The hitman fled the premises and eventually turned himself in. Two weeks later he hung himself with his bed sheets. After that, all but one psychologist remained. One day he came in to work to find that there were no patients, no guards, no people. Baffled and terrified, he ran one last time to the young man's padded cell. He found a note on the outside of the cell.
"I've found fulfillment. I've found my place in the world. I am the darkness." When this psychologist opened the door, he found the room to be soaked with blood, bile, and every imaginable human fluid. He also noticed something stranger; the floor was gone. In is place was an endless black hole, with the same padding material of the normal walls extending past the extent of his vision. The last anyone saw of this man was him being taken away by men in suits and sunglasses, spewing all sorts of madness. What happened to him, the patients, and the building remains unknown. The reported address of the asylum was nothing more than a basketball court when this was submitted.