One Flew Over the Omega’s Nest, Part One (TwistedVerse #1)

Prologue

"Your file says that your father was your first victim.

Tell me this, Josephine, did he deserve to die?

" Doctor Nelson, smarmy bastard that he is, looks at me over his half-moon spectacles like I might give him some insight into my fucked-up psyche.

As if there's a mountain of gold lying in wait if his fancy degree can unlock the reasoning of a southern, white-trash omega serial killer.

Nice try, fucker.

"Sorry, Doc. No one here that answers to Josephine," I sneer, picking at my nails.

You'd think after ten sessions at the "Unstable Omega Rehabilitation Center", he'd know I'm just as likely to stab you as I am to stick my tongue out at you if you use my full name.

Omegas around these parts don't get arrested. We're too valuable for that. No, we get "rehabilitated". After all, what worth do I have if I can't do my part and breed a bunch of monster-alpha babies?

The beta male gives a long-suffering sigh, like I'm the most difficult patient he’s had to deal with all day, when I know for a fact that Nancy Tolstein takes the cake with her belief that she can speak to the dead.

A quick shiv to the boob after she told me my daddy was "proud of me", took me off her reading list real quick.

"Apologies. Jo," Doc emphasizes my preferred name. "Did your father deserve to die?"

"He deserved a lot worse than death," I say darkly, still picking at my nails. This is the most I've ever said on the topic, but things are moving along too slowly. I need to get transferred. Yesterday.

"Why?"

"He beat Mama," my voice is nonchalant as I look up at him, tilting my head, "beat me too."

"That is horrible, but—"

"Wait." I put my finger on my chin, tapping like I'm thinking. "That can't be right. No, Peter Harding was loved by everyone, a model citizen. Maybe I'm just a murderous bitch."

"Josephine, let's not—"

"Jo," I snarl. "Daddy was overly fond of calling me Josephine and look where that got him. Though, he was just as fond of the 'Florida snow', so maybe that's what did him in."

"Jo." Doc sighs. "Are any of the things you just said true?"

"Who says they aren't all true, Doc?" I shrug. "And why does any of it matter?"

"You haven't made any progress the last five weeks, Jo. Ever since they caught you—"

"They may have caught me, but only because I let them." I point an angry finger, and the bastard has the nerve to give a damn condescending look. If he were from the South, he'd be saying, "bless your heart".

"I'm sure you did. That aside, if you don't start making progress soon, we're going to have to start considering other options. Options I'm sure you won't like."

"Is that a threat, Doc?" I raise my brow, my fingers twitching.

"Not at all, Josephine—"

Before he can finish his sentence, I'm lunging, pulling my shiv out of my sock and stabbing it into his thigh.

"FUCK!" he screams, grabbing his leg. "You psychotic—"

"Thought you already knew that, Doc. I told you what happened when Daddy called me Josephine."

Before I can twist the shiv in his leg, the door is banging open, and two alpha security guards are grabbing me by my arms, their grips too tight as they drag me back. That's okay, the bite of pain grounds me, and has me remembering to put on a show. No time to revel in the bloodlust.

Gnashing my teeth, I screech at them. "Let go of me, you useless fucks!"

"That's it!" Doc's face is deathly pale as he tries to staunch the bleeding. "I'm putting in for your transfer, Josephine! There is no fixing you."

My eyes widen, my jaw dropping. "Wait. Wait, no, I'm sorry. Where are you sending me? I'll do better, I promise."

"You'll go where the rest of the scourge of society go. The Thornfield Asylum for the Criminally Insane!"

My heart is pounding as I thrash against the guards. "You can't do this! I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Please don't send me there! I'll be good!" I continue my kicking and screaming, propped up between the two guards, all the way until they toss me into my solitary confinement chamber.

"Please!" I beg incoherently, scrambling to the door before they shut it in my face.

My cheeks press against the bars of the little cutout window of the door, tears flowing from my eyes.

"Don't let them send me away! Don't let them—" My babbling cuts off abruptly at the sound of a slamming door down the hall, letting me know the guards have left.

Blissful silence.

Taking a deep breath, I go to the sorry excuse of a bed. I lift the mattress and stick my hand into a hole in the bottom, feeling around until I find the one possession I was able to smuggle in with me. The possession I thought to stash my first time in solitary so I'd have something to look at.

I sit on the floor, my back against the padded wall and stare at the photo of two teenage girls. One with the face of an angel. Hair so blonde, it's almost white, a delicate little button nose, and eyes as blue as the sky. My sister, Mabel.

Then there's me, all wild dark ginger hair and freckles. Fraternal twins.

I'm one step closer to finding out what happened to her. Next stop: Thornfield Asylum for the Criminally Insane.