Fear

6 • Faisal

I startled awake at the sound of a blood-curdling scream. My heart skipped a beat as I frantically looked around the room. The scream seemed to come from somewhere close. I flinched when the man screamed again.

"Please! Stop doing that!"

My eyes frantically scanned the room, landing on a vent in the left wall above the cabinets. My room was dimly lit by a small lamp in the back corner, but a bright light shone from the vent.

"Hello?" I said quietly at first.
"Hello?" I raised my voice, waiting for a response.

"Hello? Is someone there?" The man sounded panicked and hysterical.
"Hello?! Oh my God, I'm going crazy, I'm hearing things!"

I felt a pang of sympathy for him, even though I couldn't see him and had no idea who he was. He sounded older, maybe in his late thirties if I had to guess, and I could tell he was foreign but spoke very good English. I decided to talk to him through the vent.

"You're not going crazy, I'm real," I said softly, hoping to reassure him.

"Oh, Alah!" He sighed heavily, relief evident in his voice. "It's been so long since I've talked to a real person, you have no idea..."

"Really? How long have you been here?" I asked, trying to lean in closer to the vent, straining to hear him better.

"I... I don't know. At least a year."

I gasped slightly in shock. "What's your name, sir?"

"My name? I'm Faisal. What's yours?"

"I'm Emily," I replied, feeling a strange connection form between us.

"Oh, Emily, nice to meet you. I'm so relieved you're real." His words were a lifeline.

There was a short pause before he spoke again. "How long have you been here?"

I thought for a moment, trying to recall. "A few days... I think."

"What is your fear? Mine's darkness." His admission hung heavy in the air.

"Darkness?" I repeated:

"It terrifies me. They turn my light off to torment me. What's yours?" he asked.

I hesitated, unsure what to say. Part of me feared his reaction, because then I'd know it was bad. "Mine is... I have three... blood, knives... and needles."

And just as I suspected, his reaction said it all. "Oh... that's... I feel sorry for you. Have you had your first Act yet?"

"Act?" I repeated, confusion creeping into my voice. It was a word I didn't know yet, but one I'd eventually come to know very well. "No, not yet," I replied, my voice betraying a hint of worry, "What is it?"

He sighed heavily. "You'll find out soon enough. Just... be strong, Emily. They thrive on your fear. Especially... him."

His words left me cold, a shiver running down my spine. The thought of what might be coming was terrifying, but at least now I knew I wasn't alone.

"Erm... what's your number?"
He seemed to want to keep talking, I think it comforted him, so I continued.
"0810023."

"Gosh, you're young, aren't you?"

"How do you know?"

And then he explained it.
"Ah. Your number corresponds to your date of birth, and the last number is how many other patients share the same date," he said. It made a lot more sense, explained like that.