《The Madman's Gospel》


 Chapter 01:The new Arrival

    The crisp morning air carried a faint chill as the sun peeked through the dense clouds over Berlin. St. Walpurga¡¯s Asylum for the Mentally Ill stood imposingly against the skyline, its gothic architecture a stark contrast to the modern buildings that surrounded it. Known throughout Germany as one of the leading mental hospitals, its reputation was built on the brilliance of the doctors it housed¡ªmen and women who were considered the best in their field. The asylum¡¯s long, winding corridors had seen countless patients come and go, each with their own stories, tragedies, and secrets.


    Inside the hospital, the atmosphere was hushed, save for the occasional murmur of doctors discussing cases or the soft footsteps of nurses attending to their duties. The reception area, with its polished floors and minimalist decor, was a picture of sterile efficiency. Behind the main counter, a young woman was sipping from a coffee mug, her fingers wrapped around it as if drawing warmth from the ceramic. A small, yellow smiley face sticker adorned the side of the mug¡ªa rare touch of brightness in an otherwise muted environment.


    Standing by the counter, Dr. Erich H?ller was deep in conversation with his colleague and best friend, Dr. Viktor Kraus. The two doctors made an odd pair¡ªErich, 25 years old with medium-length black hair that brushed his ears, was lanky and appeared almost disinterested, while Viktor, four years his senior, was stockier, with a more rugged appearance that betrayed his fondness for food and a life well-lived.


    "Another lazy day, I see," Viktor remarked, biting into a crisp red apple. His voice was light, teasing, as he leaned against the counter. "You know, if you put just a little effort in, you''d surpass me in no time. Hell, you''d probably be running this place."


    Erich shrugged, his expression one of habitual indifference. "Fame isn¡¯t for me, Viktor. All those journalists, the constant attention... It''s exhausting and boring. Besides, I don¡¯t need to prove anything."


    Viktor chuckled, shaking his head. "You''re a strange one, Erich. Most people would kill for the opportunities you have. But I suppose that''s what makes you... different."


    Their conversation was interrupted by the female worker at the counter, who held out a thin file toward Erich. ¡°Dr. H?ller, this is for you. Patient 402.¡±


    Erich took the file without much interest, flipping it open. The first thing that struck him was how little information it contained. No name, no history, no medical records¡ªjust a number, 402. According to the sparse notes, the patient was found in a remote cabin, laughing to himself. He wasn¡¯t violent, and the brief psychiatric evaluation indicated that he seemed almost sane, albeit with no memory of his past.


    ¡°402?¡± Erich mused, more to himself than anyone else. ¡°No name, no past¡­ this one¡¯s a ghost.¡±


    ¡°Sounds like a challenge,¡± Viktor said, smirking. ¡°But then again, you¡¯re not one for challenges, are you?¡±


    Erich snapped the file shut, already bored with the prospect. ¡°I might pass this one off to someone else. I¡¯m not in the mood today.¡±


    Before Viktor could respond, the automatic doors to the hospital lobby slid open with a quiet hiss. A guard entered, pushing a wheelchair in front of him. Seated in the chair was a man who appeared to be in his early forties, his skin unnervingly pale, almost translucent. His face, though lined with the first signs of age, was impassive, his eyes void of any emotion as they scanned the room. Erich¡¯s gaze was drawn to him immediately, and as the man¡¯s eyes met his, a chill ran down his spine.


    The man smiled¡ªa small, almost imperceptible curve of the lips¡ªand for a moment, the sterile air of the hospital seemed to grow colder. ¡°Nice to meet you, doc... see you later then,¡± the man said, his voice low and disturbingly calm. His words hung in the air long after he was wheeled away, echoing in Erich¡¯s mind.


    Erich stood there, momentarily stunned. How did the man know he was the doctor assigned to his case? The question gnawed at him, his curiosity piqued in a way it hadn¡¯t been in a long time.


    Viktor watched the exchange, his brow furrowed in confusion. ¡°You know him?¡±


    Erich shook his head, still staring down the hallway where the patient had disappeared. ¡°No,¡± he murmured, ¡°but I think I¡¯m about to find out.¡±


    Without another word, he turned on his heel and walked back to the counter, handing the file to the female worker. ¡°I¡¯ll take the case.¡±


    Viktor blinked, taken aback by Erich¡¯s sudden change of heart. ¡°Wait¡ªwhat just happened? I thought you were going to pass on this one.¡±


    Erich didn¡¯t answer. Instead, he reached out and grabbed the last apple from the fruit basket, the one Viktor had been eyeing for his next snack. He bit into it, the crunch resonating through the quiet lobby, and began walking briskly down the hallway.


    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    Viktor stood there, the empty basket in front of him, and let out a small sigh of resignation. ¡°That was my apple, you know,¡± he muttered to no one in particular.


    As Erich walked through the hospital¡¯s labyrinth of corridors, his mind raced. The file in his hand felt heavier with each step, as though the mystery of Patient 402 was physically pulling him in. He skimmed through the scant details again: found in a remote cabin, laughing alone, seemingly sane but with no memory of who he was. There was something off about this, something that didn¡¯t sit right.


    Finally, he reached the door to Patient 402¡¯s room. A guard stood beside it, nodding as Erich approached. ¡°You have permission to enter, Doctor.¡±


    Erich nodded back, taking a deep breath before pushing the door open. The room was dimly lit, the only source of light coming from the small window high up on the wall. Patient 402 sat on the bed, his back to the door, staring out at nothing.


    ¡°Mr. 402,¡± Erich began, stepping into the room. ¡°My name is Dr. Erich H?ller. I¡¯ll be your attending physician.¡±


    The man didn¡¯t turn around. For a moment, Erich thought he hadn¡¯t heard him. But then, in the same calm, unnervingly serene voice, the man replied, ¡°I¡¯ve been waiting for you, Doctor.¡±


    Erich closed the door behind him, the room¡¯s dim light casting long shadows on the walls. Patient 402 remained seated on the bed, his back straight, hands resting calmly on his knees. He turned his head slightly, just enough to acknowledge Erich¡¯s presence, but not enough to reveal any further emotion. The only splash of color in the room was a small vase on the bedside table, holding two red roses¡ªvibrant against the otherwise sterile surroundings.


    Erich took a step forward, placing the file down on a nearby chair. ¡°Before we begin the formal evaluation, I have a question for you. How did you know I was your doctor?¡±


    Patient 402 chuckled softly, a sound that seemed to echo unnervingly in the confined space. He finally turned to face Erich fully, a playful glint in his eye. ¡°Did that leave quite the impression on you, Doctor?¡±


    Erich remained silent, waiting for a proper answer. The patient¡¯s smile widened slightly as he continued. ¡°It was simple, really. When I was brought in, I noticed I was the only new patient. You were holding a small folder¡ªthin, like it was for someone with very little information. That matched my situation perfectly. By then, it was fifty-fifty between you and the other doctor standing beside you.¡±


    He paused, letting the words sink in before proceeding. ¡°But the real clue was in the way you looked at me. The other doctor glanced at me and then looked away. But you¡ª¡± he pointed at Erich, his tone almost teasing¡ª¡°you kept looking. That¡¯s when I knew, or at least hoped, that you would be the one.¡±


    There was something unnervingly precise about the patient¡¯s logic, his ability to piece together small details to form a clear conclusion. Erich, slightly taken aback, gave a small nod of acknowledgment. ¡°I see. That¡¯s quite observant of you.¡±


    He moved to sit down across from 402 but paused, his curiosity piqued again. ¡°But why ask for my name if you already knew it?¡±


    The patient¡¯s smile faltered for just a moment, but then it returned, this time tinged with a hint of surprise. ¡°You¡¯re sharp, Doctor. Yes, I saw your name on your badge.¡± His gaze met Erich¡¯s, and for a brief moment, there was a flicker of something deeper, a recognition of sorts. ¡°Erich H?ller,¡± he said, testing the name on his tongue. ¡°You¡¯re observant too, I see.¡±


    Erich, now seated, offered a polite smile in return. ¡°It comes with the job. But I¡¯m not the best doctor here. That title belongs to Dr. Viktor Kraus¡ªthe one who was with me earlier.¡±


    Patient 402 raised an eyebrow, genuinely surprised. ¡°That guy? He didn¡¯t exactly strike me as the best at what he does.¡±


    Erich couldn¡¯t help but chuckle at the patient¡¯s candidness. ¡°Appearances can be deceiving. But enough about that. Let¡¯s begin the evaluation.¡±


    402¡¯s expression shifted from playful to attentive as Erich retrieved a notepad from his pocket. ¡°We¡¯ll start with a few simple questions. It¡¯s just a standard procedure, nothing to worry about.¡±


    Patient 402 nodded, leaning back slightly as if settling in for a casual conversation. ¡°Go ahead, Doctor.¡±


    ¡°Do you know your name?¡±


    A brief pause. ¡°No. It¡¯s like there¡¯s a blank space where that should be.¡±


    ¡°Do you remember your birth date or how old you are?¡±


    Another pause, slightly longer this time. ¡°I don¡¯t remember my birth date, but¡­ I think I¡¯m 40. Maybe 39.¡±


    Erich noted the responses, his pen moving swiftly across the page. ¡°Do you remember anything or anyone from before you were found in the cabin?¡±


    402¡¯s gaze grew distant as he considered the question. ¡°No. Everything before that day is just¡­ gone.¡±


    Erich nodded, finishing his notes. ¡°Alright, that¡¯s enough for today. You can rest now. I¡¯ll be back tomorrow to continue the evaluation.¡±


    Patient 402 smiled again, that same unsettling calm returning to his features. ¡°I¡¯m looking forward to it, Doctor.¡±


    Erich stood, gathering his things. He gave the patient a final, contemplative glance before turning to leave. The door clicked shut behind him, and he let out a breath he hadn¡¯t realized he¡¯d been holding.


    Walking back to the counter, Erich felt a strange mix of emotions¡ªcuriosity, unease, and a peculiar sense of excitement. As he handed the day¡¯s results to the female worker, she looked up from her computer, noticing the unusual expression on his face.


    ¡°You¡¯re smiling,¡± she observed, her voice tinged with mild surprise. ¡°You¡¯re usually tired and bored after these evaluations.¡±


    Erich blinked, as if only now realizing that he was, in fact, smiling. ¡°I guess I didn¡¯t notice,¡± he replied, still deep in thought.


    The worker frowned slightly, clearly confused, but took the papers from him nonetheless. ¡°Well, that¡¯s everything for today, Doctor. You¡¯re free to go.¡±


    Erich nodded, offering a brief ¡°thank you¡± before heading out of the hospital. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the quiet street as he made his way toward a small grocery store he frequented.


    Inside, the store was quiet, the soft hum of the refrigeration units the only sound. Erich quickly gathered a few items¡ªa can of soda, some instant noodles, a couple of vegetables¡ªand headed to the checkout.


    The cashier, a familiar face, grinned as he scanned the items. ¡°Noodles again, Erich? Really?¡±


    Erich rolled his eyes but couldn¡¯t suppress a small smile. ¡°It¡¯s quick and easy. Perfect for someone who doesn¡¯t have time to cook.¡±


    The cashier chuckled, bagging the items with practiced ease. ¡°You know, you should find yourself a wife who can cook for you. It shouldn¡¯t be too hard for a guy like you.¡±


    Erich shot him a playful glare. ¡°That¡¯s none of your business,¡± he said, but his tone was light, friendly. He paid for his groceries and left the store, the smile lingering on his face as he walked the familiar path home.


    As he passed a nearby apartment building, he noticed a couple of police cars parked out front, their lights flashing silently. He frowned, wondering what could have happened in such a quiet neighborhood, but he quickly brushed off the thought and continued on his way.


    His home was a modest two-story building with a simple, functional design. Inside, the kitchen was small but clean, with just enough space for him to prepare his usual meals. He quickly cooked the noodles, adding in the vegetables for a bit of variety, and carried the bowl to the living room.


    Settling onto the couch, Erich flicked on the TV, letting the mindless noise fill the room as he ate. But his thoughts kept drifting back to Patient 402, to the man¡¯s unsettlingly sharp mind and the strange connection he felt during their conversation. There was something about him that was different, something that intrigued Erich in a way he hadn¡¯t expected.


    As he finished his meal, his mind wandered to his conversation with the cashier. The thought of finding someone to cook for him, to share his life with, seemed oddly out of place¡ªalmost annoying. He scowled, brushing the thought away as he set the empty bowl on the coffee table.


    The day¡¯s exhaustion finally caught up with him, and before he knew it, he had drifted off to sleep, the flickering light of the TV casting soft shadows over his peaceful, yet restless, face.

 Chapter 2:Shadows and Echoes

    Erich opened his eyes to the soft, muted light filtering through curtains. The room around him was unfamiliar¡ªa child¡¯s bedroom. The walls were adorned with bright colors, decorated with posters of cartoon characters and animals, while a small bed with rumpled sheets stood against one corner. For a moment, Erich lay there, disoriented, his mind struggling to connect the dots. Then, slowly, he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed.


    The room felt strangely nostalgic, as if it belonged to a past he couldn¡¯t quite place. Erich stood up, his feet sinking slightly into the plush carpet, and made his way to the door. As his hand grasped the doorknob and swung the door open,he heard a noise from the hallway¡ªa soft click, followed by the sound of small feet pattering on the wooden floor.


    The door to the bathroom, just a few steps away, swung open, and a child¡ªa boy no older than six or seven¡ªran out, giggling as he hurried down the hallway toward the stairs. Erich watched him go, his expression neutral, almost indifferent. He followed the boy, moving down the stairs and into a cozy kitchen where the aroma of breakfast filled the air.


    Standing by the stove was a woman¡ªher back to Erich¡ªbusily preparing breakfast. Her movements were fluid, practiced, as she flipped pancakes and scrambled eggs with a motherly ease. The boy, who had taken a seat at the table, bounced slightly in his chair, full of energy.


    ¡°Erich,Did you brush your teeth?¡± the woman asked without turning around, her voice warm and affectionate.


    The boy nodded eagerly. ¡°I did!¡±


    Erich stood in the doorway, watching the scene unfold as though he were a ghost¡ªan observer in someone else¡¯s life. The woman finally turned, placing plates of food on the table. Her face was kind, framed by soft brown curls that bounced slightly as she moved. She smiled at the boy, her eyes filled with warmth. ¡°Good. Now, go and call your father for breakfast.¡±


    The boy jumped up from his seat and darted past Erich, who stepped aside, watching him run toward a door at the end of the hallway. The boy flung it open, revealing a small storage room where a man was arranging boxes. The man looked up, his eyes tired, but he smiled as the boy ran up to him, tugging at his sleeve.


    ¡°Dad, breakfast is ready!¡±


    The father ruffled the boy¡¯s hair affectionately after setting down the box he was holding. As the boy chattered excitedly with his father about his morning, Erich quietly walked through the hallway heading towards the bathroom. Inside, the air was thick with the scent of soap and toothpaste. A small stool stood beside the sink.


    Without hesitation, Erich knelt down and pushed the stool aside, revealing a loose tile on the floor. He pried it open with a practiced hand, reaching into the hidden compartment beneath. His fingers closed around something cold and metallic¡ªa gun. Slowly, deliberately, he pulled it out, the weight of it heavy in his hand.


    He rose to his feet, his expression unreadable, and brought the gun to the side of his head. The cold barrel pressed against his temple, sending a chill through his skin. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath as his finger tightened on the trigger. For a moment, time seemed to stand still¡ªthen he exhaled, pressing down.


    Click.


    Erich¡¯s eyes snapped open. He was lying on his couch, the soft hum of the television filling the room with a quiet murmur. The early morning light was creeping through the curtains, casting long shadows across the living room floor. For a moment, he lay there, disoriented, as the remnants of the dream faded from his mind. It had been so vivid, so real, yet now it seemed distant, like a memory that didn¡¯t quite belong to him.


    With a sigh, he sat up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. ¡°These dreams are getting more frequent¡± he muttered to himself, pushing himself off the couch and heading to the kitchen. The familiar routine of making coffee helped ground him, the rich aroma slowly bringing him back to reality.


    The kitchen was small but functional, and within minutes, Erich was sitting at the table, a steaming cup of coffee in hand. He took a sip, savoring the bitter warmth as he let his thoughts drift.


    This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.


    On his way to the hospital early that morning, Erich ran into a familiar face¡ªhis friend from the police force, who was standing near the entrance, talking with one of the nurses.


    ¡°Hey, Erich,¡± the policeman greeted him, tipping his hat in a casual salute


    Erich nodded back, offering a small smile. ¡°Morning, Hans. What brings you to the hospital today?¡±


    Hans shrugged, his expression relaxed but sharp, the look of someone who was always on the job, even when he wasn¡¯t. ¡°Just finishing up some paperwork from a case nearby. You wouldn¡¯t believe the stuff we deal with sometimes.¡±


    Erich chuckled, though his curiosity was piqued. ¡°Speaking of cases, I noticed police cars in my neighborhood last night. What happened?¡±


    Hans¡¯s face took on a more serious tone, though he didn¡¯t lose his casual demeanor. ¡°Ah, that. A woman killed her husband in one of the apartments. Domestic dispute turned ugly, as these things often do.¡±


    Erich frowned slightly, disturbed by the news. ¡°In my neighborhood? That¡¯s surprising¡ªit¡¯s usually pretty quiet.¡±


    ¡°Yeah, well, you know how it is,¡± Hans replied, shrugging again. ¡°Even the quietest places have their dark corners.¡±


    There was a brief pause, then Hans grinned, his expression lightening. ¡°But don¡¯t worry about it too much. You don¡¯t need to start thinking about stuff like that¡ªespecially since you¡¯re not likely to have a wife to argue with anytime soon.¡±


    Erich¡¯s frown deepened into a scowl, a small spark of irritation flaring up. It was the second time in the past day that someone had teased him about not having a wife, and it was beginning to wear thin. ¡°Very funny, Hans,¡± he muttered, his tone flat.


    Hans laughed, clearly enjoying the reaction. ¡°Just messing with you, Erich. Anyway, I¡¯d better get back to work. You take care, and try not to let all that doctor stuff get to your head, eh?¡±


    Erich managed a small, polite smile, though his irritation still simmered beneath the surface. ¡°You too, Hans. Good luck with the case.¡±


    With that, Hans tipped his hat again and walked away, whistling a tune as he went. Erich watched him go, shaking his head slightly.


    Pushing the thought aside, Erich turned and continued on his way, determined to focus on the day ahead. But as he walked, a small voice in the back of his mind couldn¡¯t help but wonder if everyone was in on the joke.


    By the time Erich entered the hospital, the building was still quiet, with only a few nurses and doctors moving about. The morning shift had yet to fully start, and the air was filled with the soft murmur of voices and the occasional beep of machines. As Erich walked through the main entrance, he was greeted by the familiar sight of the female worker at the counter.


    ¡°Morning, Doctor,¡± she called out, glancing up from her work. ¡°Early as always.¡±


    Erich smiled, shaking off the last remnants of his dream. ¡°Yeah, I really need to fix my sleeping schedule.¡±


    She chuckled, a playful glint in her eye. ¡°Maybe you should. Patient 402 is awake, by the way, if you¡¯re planning to check on him.¡±


    Erich raised an eyebrow, pretending to be impressed. ¡°Can you read minds now?¡±


    ¡°Maybe,¡± she replied with a smirk, her tone dripping with sarcasm.


    Erich laughed, shaking his head. ¡°Well, I¡¯m heading there now. Have a good day.¡±


    ¡°You too, Doctor,¡± she called after him as he walked away, the sound of her fingers tapping on the keyboard fading behind him.


    The hospital corridors were familiar, their sterile, white walls lined with doors that led to rooms filled with patients¡ªeach with their own stories, their own struggles. Erich made his way to Patient 402¡¯s room, his footsteps echoing softly in the quiet hallway. When he reached the door, he knocked lightly.


    ¡°Good morning. May I come in?¡± he asked, his voice gentle but professional.


    ¡°Of course,¡± came the reply, calm and composed as always.


    Erich pushed the door open, stepping into the dimly lit room. Patient 402 was sitting up in bed, a slight smile on his face. The vase with two red roses still sat on the bedside table, the vibrant flowers a stark contrast to the sterile environment.


    ¡°Good morning,¡± Erich greeted him, walking over to the bed. ¡°Did you sleep well?¡±


    402¡¯s smile widened slightly. ¡°I did, thank you for asking.¡±


    Erich nodded, taking a seat beside the bed. ¡°You¡¯re quite early for a monitoring session, if I¡¯m not wrong?",asked 402.


    Erich chuckled softly. ¡°No need to worry. I didn¡¯t come here for a session. I just wanted to check on you and talk some more.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s sweet of you, Doctor,¡± 402 replied, his tone light, almost teasing.


    As Erich settled into his chair, his gaze fell on a book resting on the bedside table. The cover was simple, depicting a tree with flowers blooming beneath it¡ªa stark, yet beautiful image. ¡°I see you¡¯ve been reading,¡± he remarked, nodding toward the book. ¡°Do you like books?¡±


    Patient 402 followed Erich¡¯s gaze and nodded. ¡°Yes, I do. This was one of many I requested, but it¡¯s the only one that was accepted by the staff.¡±


    Erich raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°What¡¯s it about?¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s a book of poetry,¡± 402 explained, his voice softening as he spoke. ¡°I requested books on philosophy and psychology, but poetry was the closest to what I¡¯m interested in that got approved.¡±


    Erich leaned back slightly, considering his response. ¡°If you¡¯re interested in philosophy and psychology, I can approve some books for you. As your attending physician, I have that authority.¡±


    For the first time since they met, Patient 402¡¯s expression brightened, a genuine look of surprise and gratitude crossing his face. ¡°Really? You can do that?¡±


    Erich smiled, nodding. ¡°Yes. I believe that reading books on subjects you¡¯re passionate about might help trigger some memories or at least keep your mind engaged in a healthy way.¡±


    402¡¯s gaze softened, a small smile playing on his lips. ¡°Thank you, Doctor. You¡¯re the closest person I have right now.¡±


    Erich felt a strange warmth in his chest at those words, a sense of connection that he hadn¡¯t expected. ¡°I¡¯ll make sure to help you as much as I can,¡± he said sincerely, glancing at his watch. ¡°But for now, I need to check in for work.¡±


    402 nodded, his smile unwavering. ¡°Of course. Thank you for checking on me.¡±


    Erich stood, giving the patient one last nod before turning to leave. As he reached the door, he paused, looking back over his shoulder. ¡°You can write down the books you want, and I¡¯ll take a look at them later.¡±


    402 nodded in agreement, and Erich left the room, closing the door behind him. As he walked back through the hospital¡¯s quiet halls, his mind was already shifting to the tasks ahead. But even as he prepared to dive into his day¡¯s work, the connection he felt with Patient 402 lingered, a subtle but undeniable presence in the back of his mind.

 Chapter 3: Minds at Play

    The late afternoon sun bathed the hospital yard in a warm, golden light, casting long shadows across the well-manicured lawn. A few nurses and doctors milled about, enjoying their brief moments of respite. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant hum of city life created a serene atmosphere, a stark contrast to the intensity that often permeated the hospital¡¯s walls.


    Erich sat on a bench near the edge of the yard, his back resting against the cool stone wall. Beside him, a vending machine hummed softly, its glass front displaying an array of drinks and snacks. He was staring thoughtfully at a piece of paper in his hands, the list of books that 402 had requested earlier. His eyes skimmed over the titles, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in thought.


    Viktor approached from the vending machine, two cans of soda in hand. He tossed one to Erich, who caught it without looking up, still engrossed in the paper.


    ¡°So, how¡¯s it going with the new patient?¡± Viktor asked, popping open his own can and taking a sip. He leaned against the wall, his eyes on Erich.


    ¡°It¡¯s going well,¡± Erich replied, his voice distant as he continued to study the list. ¡°He¡¯s... interesting. Different from most of the patients we get here.¡±


    Viktor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. ¡°Must be something special if you¡¯re taking an interest. What kind of patient is he?¡±


    Erich finally looked up, folding the paper and tucking it into his pocket. ¡°Why don¡¯t you meet him yourself? You might find him interesting too.¡±


    Viktor chuckled, nodding in agreement. ¡°Maybe I will.¡± He handed Erich the second can, which Erich accepted with a small nod of thanks. ¡°What¡¯s that you were looking at, anyway?¡± Viktor asked, gesturing toward Erich¡¯s pocket.


    ¡°A list of books 402 asked for,¡± Erich explained, pulling the paper back out and handing it to Viktor.


    Viktor scanned the list, his brow furrowing slightly as he read. ¡°Philosophy, psychology, poetry... This guy could¡¯ve been a professor or something, based on these titles.¡±


    Erich smiled, amused by Viktor¡¯s growing interest. ¡°Looks like 402 is catching your attention now, too.¡±


    Viktor handed the list back, shaking his head in disbelief. ¡°Well, it¡¯s not every day we get a patient who can catch the interest of someone like you. He must be quite something.¡±


    Erich took a sip from his can, leaning back on the bench. ¡°Should I take that as a compliment or not?¡±


    Viktor grinned, clapping Erich on the shoulder. ¡°Take it however you want, my friend.¡±


    The two doctors sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the camaraderie between them evident in the easy way they shared their thoughts. The sun continued its descent, casting a golden glow over the yard as the minutes ticked by.


    Later on, when it was time for Erich to monitor 402, he made his way to the patient¡¯s room. The hospital was quieter now, the bustle of the day having died down, leaving only the soft footsteps of the staff as they went about their evening routines.


    Erich knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open. Inside, 402 was seated on the bed, a book in his hands¡ªthe very book of poetry Erich had approved earlier. The other books were stacked neatly on the bedside table, within easy reach.


    402 looked up as Erich entered, a warm smile on his face. ¡°Doctor, good to see you. Thank you again for the books.¡±


    ¡°No problem,¡± Erich replied, returning the smile. ¡°Are you enjoying them?¡±


    ¡°I am,¡± 402 said, closing the book and placing it on the table with the others. ¡°They¡¯ve given me a lot to think about.¡±


    Erich nodded, pleased. ¡°I¡¯m glad to hear that. But, honestly, I¡¯ve been thinking... these monitoring sessions are probably getting a bit boring for you, aren¡¯t they?¡±


    If you encounter this tale on Amazon, note that it''s taken without the author''s consent. Report it.


    402 tilted his head slightly, curious. ¡°What do you mean?¡±


    ¡°Well,¡± Erich said, his tone playful, ¡°I was thinking we could make things a bit more interesting. How about you come with me on my rounds today? Get out of this room for a while and see the hospital.¡±


    402¡¯s eyes lit up at the suggestion, a look of genuine excitement crossing his face. ¡°That sounds like fun. I¡¯d like that.¡±


    ¡°Great!¡± Erich said, stepping aside and holding the door open. ¡°Shall we?¡±


    402 stood from the bed and joined Erich at the door, the two of them walking side by side through the hospital¡¯s quiet corridors. The atmosphere was calm, almost serene, as they made their way to another patient¡¯s room.


    When they reached the door, Erich knocked gently before stepping inside, with 402 following close behind. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows across the walls, and the faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air. A low hum from a nearby monitor filled the silence, punctuated only by the occasional beep that marked the passing seconds. The patient, a young boy of around ten years old, lay on the bed, his frail body partially covered by a thin, white blanket. His face was pale, and dark circles underlined his eyes, giving him a haunted appearance.


    Erich approached the bed slowly, his expression gentle and soothing. ¡°Hello, how are you feeling today?¡± he asked, his voice soft, like a warm breeze on a cold day.


    At first, the boy didn¡¯t respond. His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, unfocused and distant, as if he were seeing something far beyond the confines of the room. His fingers twitched slightly, gripping the edge of the blanket as though it were his only anchor to reality. The silence stretched on for a few uncomfortable seconds before the boy¡¯s eyes finally flickered toward Erich, then shifted to 402, who stood quietly by the door.


    The boy¡¯s gaze lingered on 402, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to place him in a world that no longer made sense. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, his breathing growing a little more uneven as he studied the newcomer. Then, just as quickly, his eyes darted back to the ceiling, as though he were retreating back into the safety of his own mind.


    ¡°I... I¡¯m okay, I guess,¡± the boy finally answered, his voice shaky and hesitant. It was the voice of someone who wasn¡¯t entirely sure of where he was or even who he was. Each word seemed to take a great deal of effort, as though he were dragging them up from a place deep inside, where reality was a foggy, distant memory.


    As the boy spoke, his eyes shifted again, this time to the corner of the room. There was nothing there¡ªjust a plain wall, bathed in shadow¡ªbut the boy stared at it with an intensity that suggested he saw something else entirely. His expression tightened, his breath hitching slightly as he glanced back and forth between Erich, 402, and the corner. A subtle shiver ran through him, and his fingers clutched the blanket a little tighter.


    402 observed the boy carefully, his expression thoughtful. ¡°Is it schizophrenia or identity disorder?¡± he asked Erich, his tone confident, as though the symptoms were obvious.


    Erich suppressed a smile, impressed by 402¡¯s astuteness. ¡°What makes you think that?¡±


    ¡°The boy keeps glancing at the corner of the room, as if someone¡¯s there,¡± 402 explained, his voice calm and analytical. ¡°His speech is slow and disordered, which are typical symptoms of schizophrenia. But his eyes... they seem detached, like he¡¯s not fully here, and his memories of today seem scattered, which are signs of identity disorder.¡±


    Erich nodded, genuinely impressed. ¡°You¡¯re almost right. It¡¯s actually a rare case of both¡ªschizophrenia and dissociative identity disorder.¡±


    Almost as if a switch had been flipped, the boy¡¯s demeanor suddenly changed. His eyes sharpened, and his posture straightened as a new personality took over¡ªconfident, almost arrogant. He turned his head to look directly at 402, a smirk on his face. ¡°You¡¯ve got quite the friend, Doctor. Not many people would¡¯ve guessed that.¡±


    Erich chuckled, greeting the boy as if he were meeting someone entirely new. ¡°Hello there. Mind telling me who you see in the corner?¡±


    The boy¡¯s eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head, a flicker of fear passing through his gaze. ¡°He¡¯s... he¡¯s always there,¡± the boy whispered, his voice trembling. ¡°He¡¯s tall... and he has glasses. He¡¯s just standing there, watching.¡±


    ¡°Watching who?¡± Erich probed carefully.


    ¡°Both of you... but mostly him.¡± The boy¡¯s eyes darted to 402, then back to the corner, the fear in his voice growing more pronounced. ¡°He says... he says his eyes are empty. Like... like there¡¯s nothing there.¡±


    402¡¯s expression remained neutral, but his eyes betrayed a hint of concern. He shifted slightly, but stayed quiet, letting Erich lead the conversation. Erich noticed the boy¡¯s gaze flitting between the corner and 402, his breath coming in shallow, quick bursts as if the presence he saw was growing more real by the second.


    ¡°He¡¯s not going to hurt you,¡± Erich reassured him softly, though he noted the deep unease in the boy¡¯s eyes. ¡°Why don¡¯t you tell me more about what you see?¡±


    The boy hesitated, his gaze locked on the corner as if expecting the tall figure with glasses to step out into the light at any moment. ¡°He¡¯s just standing there,¡± the boy murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. ¡°He¡¯s not moving... just watching. But I don¡¯t like the way he looks at me.¡±


    ¡°Does he ever speak to you?¡± Erich asked, maintaining the calm and steady tone he knew the boy needed.


    ¡°No... he just stares. But... it¡¯s like he¡¯s telling me things... about you... about him.¡± The boy¡¯s voice dropped even lower, his eyes glazing over as if he were slipping into a trance. ¡°He says... I shouldn¡¯t trust him..."


    Erich exchanged a quick glance with 402, noting the tension in the boy¡¯s voice. It was clear that the hallucinations were deeply embedded in his psyche, blurring the lines between reality and his fractured mind.


    ¡°I see,¡± Erich said quietly, keeping his tone neutral to avoid feeding into the boy¡¯s delusions. ¡°You¡¯re safe here. No one¡¯s going to hurt you.¡±


    The boy¡¯s breathing began to slow, but his gaze remained fixated on the empty corner, his mind still teetering on the edge of the hallucination. Erich decided to shift the focus, hoping to bring the boy back to a more grounded state.


    ¡°Let¡¯s talk about something else,¡± Erich suggested gently. ¡°How about we try to get you some rest?¡±


    The boy nodded slightly, though his eyes never left the corner. Erich reached into his pocket, pulling out a small bottle of medicine. ¡°This will help you sleep,¡± he said, offering the pills with a steady hand.


    The boy took the medicine, his fingers trembling slightly as he swallowed the pills with a sip of water. Within a few minutes, his eyelids began to droop, and his grip on the blanket relaxed. The tension in the room slowly began to dissolve as the boy¡¯s breathing evened out, and he finally drifted off to sleep, the hallucinations fading with him.


    Erich stood by the bed for a moment longer, watching the boy¡¯s peaceful expression, then turned to 402. ¡°Let¡¯s go. He needs his rest.¡±


    402 nodded, his face reflecting a mix of thoughts, but he said nothing as they quietly left the room, the door closing softly behind them.

 Chapter 4: Between Moves and Memories

    The hallway was quiet as Erich and 402 walked side by side, their footsteps echoing softly off the tiled floor. The dim, fluorescent lights overhead cast a muted glow on the walls, creating long shadows that seemed to stretch endlessly ahead of them. The silence between them was comfortable, almost reflective, as they both processed the interaction they¡¯d just had with the young boy suffering from schizophrenia and identity disorder.


    After a moment, Erich broke the silence. ¡°What did you think about the boy?¡±


    402 glanced at Erich, his expression thoughtful. ¡°He looked troubled. And very sad. It¡¯s... it¡¯s a bit saddening, really.¡±


    Erich nodded, his face softening with a hint of sympathy. ¡°He¡¯s doing better than when he first came in. Back then, he barely spoke at all. He wouldn¡¯t let anyone into his room¡ªjust sat there in silence, staring at the walls.¡±


    402¡¯s brow furrowed slightly. ¡°Schizophrenia and identity disorder... they¡¯re both often triggered by trauma. Do you know what happened to him?¡±


    Erich¡¯s steps slowed, and he grew quiet for a moment, his gaze distant as he recalled the boy¡¯s tragic past. When he finally spoke, his voice was tinged with sadness. ¡°The boy lived in a poor family. His parents struggled every day, barely getting by. One day, at school, a rumor started¡ªkids were talking about a tall man with glasses who would come at night and take away their parents. The boy heard the story, and it scared him, though he tried not to think about it too much.¡±


    Erich paused, his eyes darkening as he continued. ¡°One night, while the boy was asleep, his parents, overwhelmed by debt and despair, decided to end their lives. When the boy woke up in the morning, he found them. His mother was in the bathroom, having overdosed on medication. His father... he¡¯d hung himself in the bedroom.¡±


    402 remained silent, his expression unreadable as he listened to the story.


    ¡°The boy couldn¡¯t comprehend what had happened,¡± Erich went on, his voice growing softer. ¡°In his shock, he couldn¡¯t believe that his parents had left him like that. So he blamed it on the tall man with glasses¡ªthe same one from the rumor at school. He convinced himself that the man was real, that he was responsible. That belief became so strong that he developed schizophrenia, seeing the tall man everywhere. The fear of falling asleep took hold of him¡ªhe thought that if he slept again, something even worse would happen.¡±


    If you spot this story on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The hallway seemed to close in around them as Erich recounted the story, the weight of the boy¡¯s trauma palpable in the air. ¡°He stayed in his room all day after finding them, too afraid to move because he believed the tall man was in the house. It wasn¡¯t until people came looking for him that they found him, paralyzed by fear. The trauma was so overwhelming that it fractured his mind, leading to both schizophrenia and identity disorder. His brain just couldn¡¯t handle the sadness, so it split itself into pieces.¡±


    402 absorbed the story with a solemn expression, his usual calm demeanor taking on a more reflective tone. After a few moments, he finally spoke. ¡°That boy will never be the same as he was before. He won¡¯t ever be as happy.¡±


    Erich came to a stop and turned to face 402, a soft smile playing on his lips. ¡°Maybe not. But I¡¯m going to do everything I can to make him a little bit happy again. Even just a little.¡±


    402 regarded Erich for a moment, his expression unreadable. Then, a small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. ¡°You¡¯re too optimistic, Doctor.¡±


    Erich chuckled lightly, shrugging. ¡°If I want to bring happiness back to other people¡¯s faces, I have to be happy myself first.¡±


    402 stood still for a second, as if processing Erich¡¯s words, before his smile grew a little wider. ¡°You¡¯re right,¡± he said simply, the casualness of his tone making the moment feel almost like a conversation between old friends.


    They continued walking until they reached the next room. Erich opened the door and stepped inside, with 402 following close behind. The room was dimly lit, much like the last one, but this time, the patient was an adult¡ªa man with a goatee beard and long hair that reached his shoulders. He sat in a chair by the window, his back straight, with a table in front of him. His eyes were fixed on the chessboard before him, but there were no pieces on the board¡ªjust the empty grid of squares.


    ¡°Good evening,¡± Erich greeted the man, his tone friendly and open. But the patient didn¡¯t respond. His gaze remained locked on the chessboard, his eyes unblinking, as if the empty board held some profound secret.


    Erich glanced at 402, who observed the scene with curiosity. ¡°Do you know how to play chess?¡± Erich asked him.


    402 shrugged, a slight smile on his lips. ¡°Doesn¡¯t almost everyone know how to play it?¡±


    Erich chuckled softly, nodding. ¡°True, but this is different. This is mind chess¡ªsome call it blind chess. It¡¯s a bit harder than regular chess.¡±


    402 tilted his head slightly, intrigued. ¡°Mind chess? How do you play that?¡±


    Erich leaned in a little closer, his voice taking on a slightly conspiratorial tone. ¡°In mind chess, the board and pieces are all in your head. You imagine them, and then state your moves to your opponent. The hard part is remembering where every piece is at all times.¡±


    Before 402 could respond, the patient finally spoke, cutting through their conversation with a sharp tone. ¡°Are you going to keep bothering me, or are you going to sit and play?¡±


    402 stepped forward, his smile growing into something more confident. ¡°I¡¯ll play against you.¡±


    Erich and 402 sat down in the chairs across from the patient, the empty chessboard between them. The man¡¯s eyes never left the board, not even to acknowledge 402¡¯s presence. He seemed entirely absorbed in the game, as though it were already unfolding in his mind.


    ¡°Who goes first?¡± 402 asked, his voice steady as he prepared for the mental challenge ahead.


    The patient finally looked up, his gaze meeting 402¡¯s for the first time. ¡°You go first. After all, the game is new to you.¡±


    402 nodded, his expression one of focus and determination as he readied himself for the game, his mind already picturing the pieces on the board. Erich watched quietly, a subtle smile playing on his lips as he observed the interaction, curious to see how this encounter would unfold.

 Chapter 5: A Game of Minds

    The room was still, the air heavy with a quiet intensity as 402 and the patient faced off across the chessboard. The absence of physical pieces only added to the tension, the game existing entirely within their minds. Erich watched from the sidelines, a faint smile playing on his lips, his eyes flicking between the two opponents. The silence was broken only by the sound of their voices, calm and measured as they stated their moves.


    ¡°Knight to f3,¡± 402 began, his tone casual but precise. He glanced at the patient, his eyes steady. ¡°Do you have a memory problem?¡±


    The patient responded without hesitation, his gaze never leaving the invisible board. ¡°Knight to f6,¡± he said, confirming 402¡¯s suspicion. ¡°Yes, I do have a memory problem.¡±


    ¡°C4,¡± 402 continued, his voice smooth, as if they were discussing the weather. ¡°But that¡¯s not the reason you¡¯re here, is it?¡±


    The patient¡¯s expression remained neutral as he responded, ¡°G6,¡± before asking, ¡°What do you think my problem is?¡±


    ¡°Knight to c3,¡± 402 said, his tone light but with an undercurrent of curiosity. ¡°It¡¯s hard to say for certain. Nothing¡¯s apparent just yet.¡±


    The patient considered this for a moment before making his next move. ¡°Bishop to g7,¡± he stated, then added, ¡°I¡¯ll give you a hint¡ªI have a problem with an emotion.¡±


    ¡°D4,¡± 402 replied, his voice thoughtful as if he were piecing together a puzzle. ¡°That emotion is fear.¡±


    The patient¡¯s gaze briefly flicked to Erich, then back to the board. ¡°Short castle,¡± he said, a hint of curiosity creeping into his voice. ¡°It doesn¡¯t seem like Erich told you anything. How did you come to that conclusion?¡±


    ¡°Bishop to f4,¡± 402 said with a small chuckle, his eyes glinting with a hint of amusement. ¡°The slight memory problem and your hint gave it away.¡±


    The patient¡¯s calm demeanor faltered slightly, and he tilted his head, genuinely intrigued. ¡°D5,¡± he said, then leaned back in his chair. ¡°Care to explain?¡±


    ¡°Queen to b3,¡± 402 continued, his voice steady as he began to unravel his thought process. ¡°Your emotions seem toned down¡ªmuted, almost. And the memory problem led me to one conclusion: damage to the frontal lobe of your brain.¡±


    The patient nodded slowly, absorbing the information. ¡°Pawn takes c4,¡± he said, his tone steady but with a note of curiosity. ¡°But that doesn¡¯t explain how you knew it was fear.¡±


    ¡°Queen takes c4,¡± 402 responded, his voice taking on a more instructive tone. ¡°Common symptoms of frontal lobe damage include impulsiveness, apathy, and fearlessness. You mentioned an issue with an emotion, so fearlessness was the only logical answer.¡±


    The patient¡¯s gaze sharpened as he recognized the accuracy of 402¡¯s deduction. ¡°C6,¡± he said, a note of admiration in his voice. ¡°You¡¯re quite perceptive.¡±


    ¡°E4,¡± 402 replied, his tone still casual. ¡°Are you aware that frontal lobe damage doesn¡¯t cause complete fearlessness? It only tones down the emotion, making it harder for you to feel fear because your brain doesn¡¯t send a strong enough warning to your body.¡±


    If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.


    The patient nodded, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. ¡°Knight back to d7,¡± he said. ¡°The doctors have explained that to me, which is why I¡¯m here for therapy.¡±


    ¡°Rook to d1,¡± 402 continued, his expression unreadable. ¡°Do you miss the feeling of fear?¡±


    The patient¡¯s gaze grew distant for a moment, as if he were searching his mind for a forgotten memory. ¡°Knight to b6,¡± he answered, his voice tinged with a quiet melancholy. ¡°Fear is crucial for everyday life. It¡¯s what makes us human.¡±


    402 paused, a faint glimmer of something flickering in his eyes. ¡°Humans, huh?¡± he murmured, more to himself than to the patient. Then, more clearly, he stated, ¡°Queen to c5.¡± He inhaled deeply, the sound of his breath almost imperceptible in the still room.


    The patient noticed, his sharp eyes catching the subtle movement. ¡°Bishop to g4,¡± he said, a note of concern creeping into his voice. ¡°Are you okay?¡±


    ¡°Bishop to g5,¡± 402 replied smoothly, his tone unchanging.


    The patient¡¯s brow furrowed slightly as he repeated the move, ¡°Bishop to g5?¡± He paused, taking a deep breath himself before making his next move. ¡°Knight to a4.¡±


    402¡¯s gaze didn¡¯t waver, but there was a slight tension in his posture, a subtle shift that only someone paying close attention might notice. ¡°I¡¯m fine,¡± he said calmly. ¡°But it seems like you¡¯re not.¡± He leaned forward slightly, his voice dropping as he said, ¡°Queen to a3.¡±


    The patient¡¯s breath hitched, a slight unease creeping into his voice. ¡°The air feels a little heavy,¡± he admitted, his breaths growing louder and more labored. ¡°Knight takes c3.¡±


    402¡¯s expression remained impassive as he watched the patient. ¡°If you think about it,¡± he began, his voice soft and measured, ¡°the skull is like a room for the brain¡ªa small, confined space. Imagine if that space started to shrink, squeezing in on itself.¡± He paused, letting the words sink in before stating, ¡°Pawn takes c3.¡±


    The patient¡¯s breathing grew faster, his chest rising and falling with increasing urgency. He seemed to be struggling, as if the walls were closing in on him. ¡°Knight takes e4,¡± he gasped, his voice strained as his breaths came in shallow, rapid bursts.


    402 leaned in slightly, his voice almost a whisper. ¡°Take a deep breath,¡± he suggested, his tone calm but commanding. But the patient couldn¡¯t¡ªhis breaths were ragged, uneven, his body tensing as he fought against the sensation of suffocation. Panic flashed in his eyes as he looked to 402, desperation creeping into his voice. ¡°What¡¯s happening to me?¡± he choked out.


    402¡¯s gaze remained steady, his voice calm as he delivered the final blow. ¡°What you¡¯re experiencing is suffocation¡ªthe true form of fear.¡±


    The patient¡¯s eyes widened in terror as he gasped for air, his hands clutching at his throat as if trying to free himself from an invisible noose. The sensation of suffocation overwhelmed him, his mind convinced that he was moments away from death. Just as he seemed on the verge of collapse, Erich snapped his fingers in front of the patient¡¯s face, breaking the spell.


    The patient gasped, his lungs finally filling with air as the suffocating illusion vanished. He stared at Erich, wide-eyed and trembling, his body shaking from the aftershocks of the intense fear. ¡°How... how did you do that?¡± he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.


    Erich smiled gently, his tone soothing as he explained. ¡°You weren¡¯t actually suffocating. It was just your brain playing tricks on you. The fear was real, but the danger wasn¡¯t.¡±


    The patient blinked, his mind slowly processing what had just happened. He glanced down at the chessboard, his expression dazed. ¡°I... I¡¯ve lost track of where we were in the game,¡± he admitted, his voice still shaky. ¡°You win.¡±


    402 remained silent, his expression unreadable, as Erich stood up and placed a reassuring hand on the patient¡¯s shoulder. ¡°It¡¯s good that you felt fear,¡± Erich said gently. ¡°It means you¡¯re recovering. You¡¯re getting better.¡±


    The patient nodded weakly, his eyes flicking between Erich and 402. ¡°Thank you... both of you,¡± he murmured. ¡°It¡¯s been a long time since I¡¯ve felt fear. I needed that.¡±


    Erich nodded, giving the patient a final pat on the shoulder before turning to 402. ¡°We should leave him to rest.¡±


    402 stood and followed Erich out of the room, his expression still as composed as ever. As they walked down the hallway, the patient called out after them, his voice filled with gratitude. ¡°Thank you... for the game, and for making me feel fear again.¡±


    Erich glanced at 402, a curious smile playing on his lips. ¡°Did you enjoy that?¡± he asked, his tone light.


    402 met Erich¡¯s gaze, a rare glint of satisfaction in his eyes. ¡°I did,¡± he admitted. ¡°It was... fun. I¡¯m looking forward to the next monitoring session.¡±


    As they continued walking back to 402¡¯s room, Erich couldn¡¯t help but ask, ¡°Was it your plan from the start to make the patient feel fear?¡±


    402 shrugged, his expression calm. ¡°The idea came to me once I learned about his condition. I knew I couldn¡¯t beat him at chess.¡±


    Erich chuckled, shaking his head. ¡°Why did you think of that?¡±


    402¡¯s eyes glinted with a mix of amusement and intellect. ¡°From the way he played¡ªhow quickly he made his moves¡ªI could tell he was a professional chess player. I remembered reading about a study on what patients with conditions like his fear the most.¡±


    Erich nodded, his smile widening. ¡°I remember that study too. The result was suffocation¡ªit always got a reaction from the patients.¡±


    They reached 402¡¯s room, and Erich paused at the door, turning to face him. ¡°Well, I¡¯d say you did an excellent job today. I¡¯ll see you tomorrow.¡±


    402 gave a slight nod, his expression