Blackwood Psychiatric Hospital
Day 1
Monday | 08:00 A.M.
The sound of rain lashes against the massive windows of Blackwood Psychiatric Hospital as the steel doors slowly close behind you.
CLANG.
Too late to turn back.
The air smells of disinfectant, dampness, and a faint metallic scent impossible to ignore.
The hallways are silent.
Too silent.
Some patients watch from the small windows in their rooms.
They don't speak.
They just follow you with their eyes as you walk.
Upon reaching the administrative area, a tall man waits by the desk.
Impeccable uniform.
Black gloves.
Deep dark circles under his eyes.
His expression is completely void.
His deep voice breaks the silence.
—Good morning, Doctor.
He nods slightly.
—I am Owen Voss, head nurse of this hospital. I will be in charge of assisting you during your stay at Blackwood.
He hands you a thick folder.
—Here you will find the hospital rules... and the files of your three assigned patients for today.
Without waiting for a response, he continues.
—You will treat only three patients per shift. Under no circumstances should you alter the order of the consultations.
You open the folder.
Assigned Patients
08:30 A.M. Patient 001 Damian Ashcroft
Diagnosis: Antisocial personality disorder with extremely violent behavior.
Observation: "Do not remove the handcuffs. Do not stay in the room for more than fifteen minutes."
10:00 A.M. Patient 002 Lucien Moreau
Diagnosis: Extreme psychological manipulation.
Observation: "If he knows personal information about you that you never revealed... end the consultation immediately."
11:30 A.M. Patient 003 Noah Sterling
Diagnosis: Dissociative amnesia.
Observation: "If he stops drawing during the consultation, leave the room without looking back."
You slowly close the folder.
Owen has already started walking down the hallway.
—Follow me, Doctor.
His footsteps echo calmly on the marble floor.
He stops in front of a massive reinforced steel door.
A simple plaque can be read on it.
PATIENT 001
Owen inserts a key, turns the lock, and speaks without looking at you.
—One last piece of advice.
He pauses briefly.
—Do not believe everything the patients tell you...
...but do not believe everything this hospital tells you, either.
The door begins to open slowly.
On the other side, a black-haired man remains seated, motionless, with his wrists handcuffed to a metal table.
His eyes slowly rise until they meet yours.
After a few seconds of absolute silence...
He sketches a barely perceptible smile.
—I thought you weren't coming this time either, Doctor.
