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I checked my watch as I strolled down the halls of the Midvane Asylum. My supervising officer hadn't told me what I was walking into, unfortunately for me. A male nurse met me at the building office. His scrubs were smeared with what I assume was saliva, and his glasses were uneven on his face. He had no hair on his head, but there was a black soul patch staring at me from his chin.

"Are you here about Mr. Five?" the nurse scrawled across a clipboard as he spoke.

"Mr. Five?"

"Yes, the patient that we called about. You were told what the situation was, weren't you?"

"No."

The nurse sighed and nodded towards the door of the office and walked out. I followed him down the hall, struggling to keep his pace. He never looked up from his clipboard on our trip through the Asylum halls, even when he had to step around gurneys and patients. I kept the brim of my hat tipped forward throughout the walk. Something about the way crazy people stare, it unsettles me. The nurse tilted his head back towards me once we were in an empty hall, still not looking up from his clipboard.

"Mr. Five was sent to us by B.C.P.D. after he was found breaking into a Bed, Bath, and Beyond."

"Seems like an odd place to break into."

"He was looking for blankets."

"Homeless?"

"Must be, he has no record of any kind."

"None?"

"None. We asked him what his name was, but we got mixed answers."

"Mixed?"

"Multiple personality disorder. He thinks that there are five different people living in his head, and they all gave us a different name. We just call him Mr. Five for now."

"He sounds like he needs a therapist, not a police detective."

"He needs both." the nurse stopped beside a door and finally looked up from his clipboard. His eyes were focused and serious, even through the diffracting glare of his glasses. "What is your first name?" he held his pencil just over the paper on his clipboard.

"John." I answered. The nurse looked back down to his papers for a second, his lead scratching audibly against the paper in the silent hall. When he finished, he finally dropped his pencil into the pocket on his scrubs and pulled out a keycard, which he handed to me without a word. A moment of silence passed. "...You were saying that he needs a detective?" I prodded him.

"Was I? Oh right. We tried to send a doctor to help him, but there were some complications."

"Complications?"

"Treatment for multiple-personality disorder involves helping the original personality, the real person, dominate the mind and remove the others. With Mr. Five, however, we don't have a record to consult for a name. The fact of it is, we don't know which of his personalities is actually him."

"I have to pick a nut-ball out of the bunch? How the hell am I supposed to do that?" I was starting to see why my supervising officer hadn't explained the case to me. Before the nurse could answer, there was a crash from the other side of the door. I looked through the tiny window, but I could only see an empty cot through it.

"There is a guard on his way that will come in if you call, but in the mean time I wouldn't call Mr. Five anything derogatory." the nurse called over his shoulder. While I had looked away, he had slipped around me and was heading back to the office at the same healthy clip as before. I sighed and looked back at the empty cot through the window. It seemed that the staff were as odd as the patients. I slid the keycard into the door and listened to the click of the lock echo down the halls. I opened the door with my taser in hand.

No assault. I was surprised, given the crash from before. I surveyed the room as I put the taser back in my jacket. The empty cot looked like it had been recently made, and it stuck out against the disorderly nature of the rest of the room. The toilet seat had been ripped off and thrown against the wall, where it had shattered into the pieces that were on the floor to my right. The toilet paper was in a pile in the left corner of the room, next to which Mr. Five sat. His hair was messy and blonde. His blue eyes seemed entirely focused on me, which I found unsettling. His face was stoic as a stone, although his thoughts were clearly churning every second.

"Hello." I began, hoping not to set him off. I knelt down beside him. "My name is Detective-"

"John, your name is John."

"But you can call me Detective-"

"I plan to call you John, John. I should hope that we could be on a first name basis."

"I'll need to know your name for that."

"That's what you're here for, isn't it? I could hear you outside. You want to know if I was the first to live here, if my name is the true name."

"Is it?"

"How am I to know? How are you to know? I'm clearly not right in the head, if I am the first. My memories could be fogged, they could be twisted."

"Are they?"

"How am I to know? How are you to know?"

"We could learn, if we help each other. To start, I still need your name."

"Oh yes, you should know me as Douglas."

"Ok, Douglas, why did you throw the toilet seat against the wall?"

"..."

"Douglas?"

"Do not speak of that bastard to me, whelp!" Mr. Five's face contorted as he stood up before me.

"Who am I speaking to? I was just speaking to Douglas." I looked up at him, still on one knee to avoid provoking the clearly violent personality.

"I said not to speak of him! He has gone! You deal with me now!"

"I'm happy to talk to you, mister..."

"I am Joseph, you called for me when talking to the bastard."

"So it was you who threw the toilet seat?" I stood up slowly so that I was at his level, never breaking eye contact. Joseph stiffened as I stood. He clearly did not like that I saw him as an equal. There was a palpable fire in the air around him that I had not noticed before.

"Do not accuse me, whelp!" he barked. I put my hand in my jacket pocket, my fingers already on the taser. Joseph seemed to not notice, he was too absorbed in his rage. In the blink of an eye I was pushed against the wall, the shards of porcelain between my legs. "I will tell you what I want, you will not-grah!" his body began to jerk and spasm, then fell to the ground. The wires of my taser were attached to his chest. I knelt down and pulled the barbs from his body. I took a moment to collect myself, then sat on the bed and waited for him to wake up. After a few minutes, he began to stir.

"Why do you hurt us...stop..." Mr. Five whimpered. My ears perked up at this. The other two personalities hadn't been so nervous, they had been confidant. With luck, this man would be cooperative.

"I was being attacked, I had no choice." I answered from the bed. I still didn't go to him, just to be safe.

"He hurts us too...it wasn't fair to lock all of us in with him like that..."

"I'm sorry, I want to help you. What is your name?"

"It doesn't matter, I'll be gone soon..."

"Why do you say that?"

"The others are strong, I'm not good at winning."

"You fight for control?"

"Sometimes..."

"Please, don't be so passive. I need you to be strong to help me. What is your name?"

"It doesn't matter, I'll be gone soon..."

"Damn it, what is your name?!" I urged, my patience wearing thin. Mr. Five looked up at me suddenly, his eyebrow cocked in curiosity.

"My name is Peter, but that's not the name that you were looking for I take it." Peter stood up and looked around the cell that we were standing in. "And this isn't the room that I was last in. Where am I?" Peter looked back to me, his hand on his chin.

"That isn't important right now, Peter. My name is-"

"Oh I know! It's John, I heard it from Douglas." Peter's eyes lit up as he moved over to where Douglas had sat in his time with the body. "He was right here, and you came in and started pestering him about the toilet seat, isn't that right?" he looked to me again. I nodded to him, and he seemed to take pleasure in his answer being correct. I stood up from the cot and looked directly at Peter.

"I need you to answer some questions, Peter." I drew out my words in no hurry, since this personality clearly had issues focusing. "Can you do that for me?"

"Oh, what fun is it to answer? I want to be the one asking!" Peter answered, moving around me to the cot that I had just left. "Here's a question, why is this bed so neat when the toilet paper has been totally unspooled?"

"Peter, I need you to cooperate."

"Then you cooperate first, John! You are an uninvited guest in this room, why aren't you courteous to your host?" Peter walked over to the loose pile of toilet paper and held up a piece in front of his face. I sighed and shook my head. This seemed to be going nowhere.

"I don't know why, Peter. Maybe another one of you did it, like Douglas, or Joseph." I answered. Peter winced and dropped the toilet paper as I mentioned the other two names. He shook his head and rubbed his ears, then looked back up to me.

"I wouldn't bring them up, John, they like to talk to people when they hear their names."

"Are you aware of what is happening even when you aren't in control?"

"Questions, questions, why so many questions? If I wanted questions I would talk to Douglas, he can keep me asking for hours at a time."

"So you can talk to each other?"

"Enough questions!"

"No! Peter, you have to answer me!"

"I don't want to!" Peter hit the ground with his hands and curled up into a ball. I waited in silence for a moment. Mr. Five slowly unrolled from his fetal position, then looked up with an expression of disappointment. He shook his head and put his hand on the toilet paper pile. "John, you are a rather stimulating individual. You keep trying, but how are you to find out which of us came first?"

"Douglas."

"So nice to see you again. I trust that my counterparts treated you well."

"Some were, unpleasant."

"Some? Who?"

"I'd rather not say."

"Ah, Joseph I take it. Yes he's a tad antisocial, but when you cater to his ego he'll be fine. Peter is the same way, just keep answering his questions and he'll quit his fits."

"What do they do when you don't cater to them?"

"I can see why Peter left you, John, you do love questions."

"I have to decide if you people are safe sharing a head."

"Ah, but that's just it, Detective, you can never know! I may be safe, but what about what I do to Tim?"

"Who is Tim?"

"The whiny child that you met after Joseph, I'm not surprised that you didn't catch his name."

"What did you do to him?"

"I did nothing, John, I would think that you would think better of me than that."

"You're speaking in riddles, Douglas."

"Not riddles, John, metaphors. If I harm Tim, for example, then he isn't safe. But I am. That's where your dilemma begins, John. You cannot leave some of us in here and kill some others, there can only be one left. Tell me, how can you know which to let live?"

"I would hope that you could help me decide."

"Ah, but I am biased! Honestly, John, would you trust Joseph with the fate of this body?"

"What the hell else can I do here? If you people won't help me, I'm out of options."

"You are, John. But not us." Douglas covered his eyes with his hands and angled his head downwards. After a moment, Mr. Five began to cry. I knelt down beside him once again and rested my hand on his shoulder.

"Tim, is that you?" I tried to peek in between his fingers to the face behind them. Mr. Five shook his head and continued to sob. If it wasn't Tim, then it must be the final personality. Joseph would never cry in front of me after threatening me, and Douglas didn't seem capable of emotion. Peter I could see crying from frustration, but this was not an angry weeping. Whoever I was with now, he was honestly depressed. "I'm here to help you, please, look at me." I pleaded. Mr. Five let his hands dropped and began to look up from the ground. His eyes stopped at the sight of my taser handle jutting from my jacket pocket.

"Yes, that would help..." he said under his breath. I traced his eye line to my pocket and raised my other hand, but he was too fast. Mr. Five's hand struck my face before I could react, and as I fell backwards he slid the taser from my pocket. I held my bleeding nose with my hand and looked up at the tearstained Mr. Five, who had my already discharged taser pointed at his forehead. He pulled the trigger over and over again, but he had neglected to put the barbs into his skin. I kicked one of his kneecaps, causing him to fall to the ground with a thud. I sat up just in time to see him stuffing toilet paper into his mouth. I dove onto his chest and pinned his arms under my knees. He bit at my fingers as I pulled the wet and wadded paper from his throat. "Let me die! Let me die!" he screamed as his airway cleared. I punched him in the face and heard a crack as his head hit the hard floor.

After a minute of dazed silence, Mr. Five's tearstained face contorted into a terrified expression. He looked up at me in total silence, his lip quivering ever so slightly. The silence remained for a full minute, with the two of us staring at each other the entire time. Finally, I broke the silence.

"I'm going to get off of you now."

"Why do you keep hurting us?" Tim whimpered back. As I stood up, he used his free hands to feel the back of his head. His fingers came back red. "You'd already stopped Drake, why did you hurt us?"

"Tim, I can stop all of this from happening. I just need you to answer my questions."

"You keep hurting us, I don't think that any of us should trust you."

"Douglas seems to trust me." Tim winced as I said Douglas's name.

"Douglas likes to play with you, he does it to all of us. Please, don't say his name, I'm not good at winning."

"How long has he been playing with you?"

"As long as I can remember."

"What about Joseph? How long has he been around?" Tim covered his ears and squeezed his eyes shut. He shook his head back and forth, giving me a glimpse of the red spot on his blonde hair.

"No names! No names!" he begged. "Joseph is mean, I didn't like it when he came, or when he started taking control!" Tim turned to the wall and pressed his forehead against it, his hands tightening to fists. I cannot imagine the hell that must have been running through his head.

"Does he just attack you, or does he go after the others?" I pressed on. Tim ignored me. "Tim, please, what does Joseph do?" I pleaded with him. Tim beat the wall with his fists, then sat still. His head turned to face me and his eyes seemed to burn right through me.

"I don't leave any of them alone, whelp," Joseph said. "but I can pick favorites!" He lunged at me, his mouth open and his arms spread wide. I managed to dive out of the way, onto the bed, and Joseph hit the ground again. I shot up before he could stand, then planted my foot on his back. "Let me go, whelp! No one stands above me! Not Peter, not Tim, not the bastard Douglas! Not even that suicidal fool Drake, who can't stand sharing!"

"Guard!" I called to the door. "Get in here!" The security guard that the nurse had sent came into the cell, armed with a nightstick and pepper spray. Together, we managed to subdue and restrain Mr. Five. I talked to the nurse in the hall as the patient was taken away on a gurney.

"Did you figure it out?" The nurse asked from behind his clipboard.

"Yes. His original personality is hardly the most powerful, unfortunately for you. From what I can gather, he developed the others one by one as he needed them. I'm fairly certain that the most violent one, Joseph, came around during his start into homelessness, so that he could survive without any moral code. When I was talking to Tim, the weakest persona, I was told that Joseph had come in after Tim's arrival. Tim also told me that Douglas, the one who likes to mess with your head, had been there for as long as he could remember. That made me think that Douglas came first, but if that had been the case he would have tried to convince me that he was the first."

"And who was the first?"

"His name is Drake. Joseph told me that he couldn't take sharing the body, which would suggest that Drake was used to being alone. Clearly he had developed the others out of necessity, but I doubt that he had made a conscious decision to create them. I think that Douglas came first, and the two went at it calmly for a few years. Once Douglas started toying with Drake's mind, Tim came around. Tim must be the sense of smallness and defeat that Drake began to feel as Douglas started taking more control. He must have subconsciously hoped that Douglas would go after Tim, but I think that he was too smart for that. When Douglas continued to pester Drake, Peter must have come to serve as a direct distraction. Peter loves to ask questions, and Douglas loves to give answers without answers."

"So where does Joseph come into play?"

"I think that Joseph came around when Drake started to become suicidal. On a subconscious level, I don't think that anybody wants to commit suicide. Instinct would never allow for that. I think that Joseph introduced so many dynamics into Drake's mind that suicide became a secondary want over peace. Drake became outnumbered, and his opportunities to try killing himself became few and far between."

"Although not non-existent. He tried to hang himself with the toilet paper before you came."

"And he tried to choke himself while I was in there. You have a hard job ahead of you, almost impossible."

"You'll remember, Detective, you said that your job was impossible just an hour ago." The nurse looked up from his clipboard at me and grinned. He tucked his pencil behind his ear and walked down the hall at the same quick pace as before. Instead of silence however, I heard him whistling as he left.

Ever since that day, I've made it a specialty to interrogate multiple people at once.