When Dean Winchester finds himself at the mercy of Bella Talbot, desperate for information that might save his soul, he crosses paths with Nadia Turner-the strong-willed, fiercely independent daughter of hunter Rufus Turner. Though the connection be...
"Of course, I want to help however I can," said Anna's psychologist, her voice calm but tinged with an undercurrent of exhaustion. She stood in what was once Anna's room, now empty and sterile, with Nadia and the boys. All three of them were suited up, ready for whatever they might uncover. It was a tense atmosphere; the kind of quiet that signaled the uneasy hope that something would break—something would make sense.
Anna's room had already been cleaned, but Nadia could still smell the faintest trace of demon stench lingering in the air. It was barely noticeable, but it set her nerves on edge. She did her best to focus on the conversation, but the underlying hum of the hospital's energy was hard to ignore. Most of the patients here felt like they were on the edge, teetering between hopelessness and something darker. The loneliest ones were the worst—tired souls with too many thoughts, too many fears. She could feel them all, a weight pressing against her.
Sam leaned against the doorframe, casually sliding his hands into his pockets. "Now, the orderly has no recollection of Anna's escape?" he asked, keeping his tone neutral, focused.
The doctor nodded, her face a mask of professionalism. "Apparently, she knocked him unconscious. The blow caused some amnesia. He doesn't even remember coming into her room."
Dean, flipping through his notepad, raised an eyebrow. "That's a hell of a right hook to knock out a guy who probably has eighty pounds on her."
The doctor glanced down, her expression unchanging. "We think she may have planned this, waited behind the door."
"Right," Nadia murmured, shifting her stance. She could feel the weight of their uncertainty, the need to piece this puzzle together. "You said Anna's illness was recent?" she asked, her voice steady but probing.
"Two months ago, she was happy. Well-adjusted. A journalism major, lots of friends. Bright future," the doctor replied, her voice softening as she spoke of the girl she had once known.
Nadia crossed her arms over her chest, her gaze intense. "So, what happened?"
The doctor's smile faltered slightly, a flicker of sadness passing over her face. "Well, that's the tragedy of schizophrenia. Within weeks, Anna was overtaken by delusions."
Sam, furrowing his brow, asked, "What kind of delusions?"
The doctor sighed deeply, then reached for a sketchbook hidden beneath her clipboard. She handed it to Nadia, who accepted it without hesitation. "She thought demons were everywhere," the doctor explained, her voice quieter now.
Nadia flipped through the sketchbook. The pages were filled with frantic, vivid drawings—symbols, faces twisted in pain, and unsettling depictions of monstrous figures. It was clear Anna's mind had been overwhelmed, consumed by something beyond her control.
Dean, looking over Nadia's shoulder, commented dryly, "Interesting."
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