PROLOGUE.

Each sole upon the street, each soul riding upon the clouds, were ever dull in the exceeding darkness of the hidden sun. On this morning the clouds diffused the daylight to a bold darkness; they moved much as the ocean, showing the blue amid the whitish dove-grey, a medley of silvers that ripple outwards to ravage the beauty of the sky.

I awoke to another array of cold air being blown through the cracks of my broken window as it sank into my skin, sending an electric chain of chills up my spine. A prolonged yawn, a quick stretch and I rolled out of bed, my duvet falling to the side. The feeling of dread exploded the thoughts of peace in my mind, bringing back all of the boredom I went through with another day at work. I sighed heavily and looked at the unironed lab coat on the iron stand. "Here we go again.."

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I had been assigned as a personal therapist to a patient in room 131. It had been a few months now, since I'd been working with him. It was clear now why belts were attached to his shirt, pulling his wrists to the side and barricading his hands. He was a psychopath. One of the worst I had seen. Personally, I had always believed killers had a reason for their doings- whether it was sexual desire, fascination with death or even boredome. But Romere Hudson did it simply to induce pain on people around him. To cause such dread to the family of the deceased as a way

of revenge. His mind was evil, much as his intentions. He was dangerous and lethal to society.

As a therapist, my job was to identify and examine his feelings towards his actions, to cause him to self reflect and make sure his actions would never take place again. I had a nickname- 'The manipulator'. I was known for giving killers a chance to be reborn-making them realise what their actions looked like in the perspective of a citizen, making them fear the consequences and driving them to never do it again. I made them feel guilty, feel bad and sorry for what they did by manipulating their thoughts and shaping their minds into something that changed their humanity entirely. But with Hordsin, it was different. He saw his killings as a trophy, as something he took pride in. It was part of who he was and part of who he would become. In shorter words, without it- he was nothing.

**************

It was another morning. Another day. A repeat of the limited events in my life, happening again and again. Another day at work.

The same dented elevator doors graze the floor as they open, the same stained windows placed unevenly along the grey walls reveal the dim light of the sunset, as it slowly disappears.

Walking up to the front desk, I retrieved the key card for room 131. I was welcomed with the snarls of disapproval from other patients as I walked through the hallways. Looking inside the small windows of each door as I went past I saw the variety of lifestyles from each patient- some were sleeping, some working out...but it progressively got worse further down the hallway. It got to people tugging at their hair in the corner of the room, screaming and yelling at the top of their lungs and tugging at the bars on the windows aggressively. It would've been terrifying for anybody to work at such a place. But for me, I had been here for too many years to be affected anymore- many years of experience to be afraid of what lied within each room. A long walk, a long trudge through despair and the dreadful reality of the world and at last I would arrive at the end of the hallway. Room 131.

Swiping the door with the keycard, there were a few anticipating moments of waiting for the operations to work before the door slowly hissed open, revealing a padded room with linings of cushion coating everything. Romere Hordsin was in the same white jacket he had always been in, hands tied back and a strong belt barricading his chest on the chair he sat on. He looked at me- stared at me and every action I did as I trudged into the room. Dark circles formed under his eyes after hours of being trapped in a cell with no light- but he was used to it, after years of wandering the darkness, his eyes had accustomed to the absence of light. Gazing blindly, in a state of hypnosis, a smirk formed at the corner of his mouth. "You're finally here." He chuckled. The room was slowly swallowed, the black slowly crept its beautiful mass around him, lurching forward, consuming everything like a frightening eclipse. I scoffed. "You didn't seem to miss me."

"I did. Very much too.." He slurred, licking at his lips. He smiled, a crescent smile like rows of serrated knives, strung together with an invisible force that preys on the feeble minded. But that mind was not mine. I had been fed up for months at his behaviour. It was like dealing with a disobedient kindergartener who refused to do anything he was told to do, but did everything that he was forbidden from doing.

"Alright. We'll start with the usual. How have you been feeling late-" I was interrupted by a hissing laugh he let out, stomping his feet down lightly.

"Aren't you tired? Asking me this 3 times a week."

"I am. But if I want to get paid, I have to do it."

"So you're doing this for the money"

"Money is all that matters in life. If you have no money, your meaning in life has run out. I make my living off of money. I buy my happiness with money." I said, admittingly enough, describing too much about myself, (which was forbidden- personal talk was not allowed).

There was a short moment of silence before he laughed again. "I like you, Carlos. You're different. Now if I may ask, is this a venting session for me, or for you?"

I looked at him, eyes staring firmly as his pupils dilated from left to right. "For you. And I'd appreciate if you'd let me go home tonight s-"

"Why don't you take me with you? I don't bite." he whispered.

I shut my clipboard abruptly out of rage, and raised my voice slightly as a threat to show he was irritating. "I'd like to go home so answer my question! The longer you staul the longer I have to be in here with you. So, I'll ask again. How have you been feeling lately?"

"If it means you have to stay in here with me I guess I'll stay silent." He chuckled, his voice deepening suddenly.

"I have no time to deal with you. I'd prefer not to waste my time and get my salary cut slightly, than stay here and work my ass off trying to get you to talk and earn an extra dollar." I stood up and grabbed my table off of the table, and shot him a look before turning around to show him I was serious, but he still laughed. "I know you won't leave, you know. You can't. It's against your silly little rules to leave out of frustration.

His words cut through my like a knife. He saw through my plan. I wanted to get him to speak by threatening to leave, but somehow he had knowledge about the job rules. I sighed heavily and compressed the rage growing like a fuming ball of fire in my chest. Turning around slowly, I smiled. "Yeah, you got me." My cheeks flushed out of embarrassment. I was a therapist, somebody who is dominant over their patient, somebody who is supposed to be in control over the situation and yet I looked like a fool in front of him. I let myself be humiliated and I hated myself for it.

And the worst part is, he read my emotions like a book. Another mistake I made as a mentality examiner, my feelings should be completely neutral. I shouldn't be readable. I shouldn't be vulnerable. A killer sees this as bait.

"You're cute when you're embarrassed, Carlos." He said, uncomfortably calmly, while staring at me. I had no strength to look back up at him, so I shot my clipboard up in front of myself to reduce the tension.

"You call me Dr. Adson. Not Carlos." I said, retrieving back the dominance I should have had to start with. "How have you been feeling lately, Romere?"

"I've been fine. How have you been Carlos?" He replied, testing my patience.

I exhaled slowly, still calming the ball of fire in my chest, but little extinguish was left. "Define 'fine'." I said squinting.

He stopped for a minute- examined the ceilings, the walls, then looked back at me. "What am I supposed to feel in this shithole?" He said, "I feel fine when you're here, and when you're not, I feel nothing."

"You feel nothing about what you did?"

"And what did I do?" He asked, trailing his eyes down my torso and onto my thighs.

"Look at me." I demanded, and his eyes shot back up as he smirked. "What do you feel about the sins you committed? The women you murdered?" I asked again.

"I felt bored so I killed them. Didn't do much but get me stuck in here. Apart from boredom I feel nothing."

This was bad. He felt nothing about his crime. His consciousness about his own actions were there, so it wasn't easy to diagnose either. He was completely fine with what he had done, yet he hadn't normalised it. What was wrong with him? Is he even classified as humane anymore? If he was acting, no human could possibly suppress such dread unless they had an inhuman amount of self control, and be able to lie on top of it. It was unlikely. He really was truly unbothered and had no interest, had no care about what he had done nor the consequences.

"You were bored, so you killed people? People you didn't even know? Why didn't you just go to a leisure centre if you were that bored?"

"I wasn't bored in the way I wanted to go and play arcade games, silly. I was bored because of this world. Bored of the way we orbit the sun everyday, bored of the way humans never change. So, I killed some. Made a small change for me." He said, shamelessly.

"For you? And what has that done except bad things for you? I bit my lip out of anger, glaring at him intensely. I frowned. This was unusual. Why was I so angry? Why was it so hard to suppress my feelings around him?

"Not all bad. I met you." He chuckled again.

"Stop laughing! Aren't you ashamed?" I knew what I was doing was wrong, but my anger masked all the rules I had taken in when I first started working. "You killed 12 people! People you didn't know! And you aren't even regretting it one little bit?! Does it not affect you? Not even a bi-"

"Enough, Carlos. You're getting on my nerves." Romere said, his eyes slim and narrow as his expression darkened.

To my own surprise, I listened and sat down. "I apologise. I got out of hand. But you need to stop this, Romere. This is for your own good. Don't you want to get out of here? Just answer my questions so I can help you!" I asked, being genuine.

"I did. And you started yelling about it?" He said, raising an eyebrow and putting his legs up onto the desk.

I sighed.

"What's wrong?" Romere asked, frowning.

His expression infuriated me. It was disgusting that he looked so genuine.

"You worried?" I joked.

"Yes. Yes I am worried. Which is why I asked what's wrong, Carlos."

I looked up at him again. It irritated me that he could still feel something. Irritated me, because he was worried for me.

"Untie me, Carlos." He said.

"Wha-?"

"Untie me. Did you not hear it the first time?" He said again, this time more sternly.

"And why would I do that, Romere?" I asked.

"Because I don't like being tied up." He said,

I laughed. "I'm afraid you brought that upon yourself."

"If you untie me I'll answer your questions." Romere said, seeming genuine.

"Or you'll kill me." I said, looking him in the eye.

"You scared?" He chuckled.

I didn't answer, raising my eyebrows.

"Why would I hurt you, Carlos."

"Why did you hurt them?"

"Because I was bored."

"And you aren't bored now?"

"Not with you. Never bored with you, Doctor. Adson."

'Doctor Adson'. The way he said it made my skin crawl.

"I'll answer your questions the way you want me to. Just untie me. I would never hurt you and you know it." Romere leaned forwards and his words trailed their way around my mind.

"Alright."

I got up, feeling his eyes on me as I undid the belt around his chest.

"And the arms." He pleaded looking up at me.

I grabbed his hand and squeezed it tight. "Reality check, Romere. I have a sedate, you don't. I am dominant, you aren't. Try anything and I'll inject you. Act up, and I'll inject you." I said, holding the injection in my hand. "And this, stays in my hand."

"Alright doctor." Romere laughed. I undid the belt in his arms, but was surprised as he stood up quickly, tripping me up with his leg. He grabbed my wrist that had the injection in it and looked me in the eye. "You inject me, I kill you." He whispered.

I wriggled my wrist under his strength and gasped. His strength was frightening. He was stronger than me, physically and maybe even mentally. I felt something I had never felt as a therapist before- Fear. Panic surged through my body and I suddenly felt the need to escape. I made a mistake and had to fix it. "Romere, let go-" Before I could say any further, he twisted my wrist making me yell out. I immediately looked up at him, embarrassed. I was afraid, but my pride was damaged more. "Don't worry. You can't inject me. I can't hurt you." He said.

His height was intimidating. I had to look up to maintain eye contact. His body foreshadowed me, covering my torso completely. Somehow he isn't lanky though, there's bulk on him too; muscles beneath the medical vest he wore, which he pressed against my stomach. "Romere, back up." I didn't beg, but asked politely.

"Why?" He asked, pressing his body harder against mine. He led us to the wall now, where my head sunk into the cushion lining as I looked up at him glaring down at me.

"I'm uncomfortable. Get off." I tried to maintain myself. Tried to stay calm. One wrong move, one wrong word and he'd hurt me. If I showed him I was afraid it would do nothing but arouse him.

"And if I don't?"

Tears began to form at the sides of my eyes- I wasn't sad, I was just afraid. I was afraid of what would happen to me. A tear trailed down my cheek. "Romere..get off. Please!" I begged him now. My disguise had been ravaged.

"Are you crying?" He said, wiping his thumb across my cheek.

"No."

He grabbed my chin and pulled it up to face him. "I'll let go, Carlos. But you'll stay right here." He slowly released his grasp from me and I pushed him back immediately. I ran out of his grasp and he attempted to grab me back, but I managed to dodge his hand. I saw this injector on the ground, but the door further forward- I went for the door. Escape was necessary. I lunged to get the door handle, but just as I felt the cold metal touching my skin, I was pulled back by Romere and thrown onto the ground. He had grabbed my lab coat, and I was now squirming to get out of his grip. I threw my head back and felt his nose pierce my skull, but I knew I had injured him more than it hurt me. I ripped my lab coat off to escape and opened the door handle so harshly it left an incision on my palm. "CARLOS!" I heard Romere scream- it scared me. It terrified me. His scream made my heart pound faster than it ever had before...

But I made it. The door closed behind me, I was spread out on the floor of the hospital, tears escaping and streaming down my cheeks as I threw my hand onto my mouth. I got up and wiped the dirt off of my labcoat. I ran through the hallway, ignoring everything around me. The pounding Romere inflicted on the door muffled as thoughts invaded my mind, stopping me from being able to think straight. Other workers stared at me, talking under their breath. "Must be his first time here." One of them said, shattering the pride I built up over the past few years. I stopped and whacked the desk abruptly, alerting the receptionist. "Dr. Hordsin?" she asked, concerned.

I looked up at her. "I no longer want to work here. I resign." I couldn't bear seeing Romere again. If I denied to be his therapist I'd be fired anyways. I lay down my badge on the table and ran out of the hospital.

Working with him made me realise just how dangerous humanity can be. How wicked their thoughts can be and how revolting their actions can be. It made me realise that I didn't have the capability to cure all patients. Romere Hordsin was my downfall. He was the creature that put an end to my career. Because of him, I quit. Quit being a mentality therapist and resorted to the basic life of a citizen.

(End of prologue)

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