Four Walls

Introduction: The Most Perculiar Of Cases

I first met him in March he was one of my most peculiar cases he wore a black shirt and bage trousers, his hair was overgrown and very untidy, he had some stubble which was like that of a man who hadn't shaved in a while and the bags under his eyes were one of the heaviest I'd ever seen. He walked into my office and laid on the bench.
"Good morning Mr Richards my name is Dr. Fitz-Daniel but you can call me Fitz. You checked yourself in here why is that" I asked.
"You see doctor I don't what is real anymore" He replied.
"Why do think that is?" I asked.
"Because I haven't found the door, I have to find the door" He said.
"Well then it seems you and I have start from the beginning, I believe your situation requires the up most of care but in order to help you we'll have to pick your whole life apart and observe it very crucially in order to help you, are ready to begin?" I asked
"Yes Doctor" he said.

The man I was speaking to was one of seventeen people who had stayed at the Stan Rockfield Hotel. They had all stayed in the same room throughout the past twenty one years. There was only one difference between him and the others was that he was one of two people who were believed to be still alive. Among the seventeen, six had died in psychiatric hospitals however when investigated it came to light that their deaths were not from natural causes, four commited suicide within a week of checking out and the remaining five disappeared without a trace and had never been seen or heard from since they checked in. His name was Gayle Richards and he had been one of the biggest stock brokers in the country his firm made millions every week. He was popular for being very harsh and ruthless when it came to his work but he was far from that when I met him. He had a look of despair a look like that of someone who had seen the end you could tell he was in total fear my only question was a fear of what. I remember in most of the sessions he kept on saying the same thing "I need to find the door". In fact it got so bad during one of our hypnotic sessions that he had a panic attack and had to be sedated. As the sessions went on that phrase came up more and more frequently he even started saying it as though he still hadn't found it and needed to immediately. I came to know that the door he was referring to was the door to the room. I looked at all the case records of the six who checked in and shockingly enough the same phrase came up in every single case. I dug further in these cases and the similarities in behaviour of the subjects was frightening to say the least. I couldn't help but wonder why they all felt like they hadn't really left the room. After a few months Richards got better and in a year I was able to recommend to his clinical psychiatrist that he was mentally stable. A few weeks after that he was discharged. Two days prior his body was found hanging from the ceiling of his apartment. When I found out the news I was disturbed not only was he doing so well when he was under our care but he had never given any characteristics of someone who was suicidal. I went to Windsor Cemetery to pay my last respects to one of last surviving guests of room one-thirty-two. The only other guest still alive was the man at his grave, me Derek Fitz-Daniel

For as long as I can remember I've always been interested in what scares people and why people got scared. I would always research on it in school and by the time I started college I had know enough about human phobia to be considered for paranormal investigations. I then studied Psychology and graduated at the age of 24. I was a Clinical Psychologist for 15 years, I specialised in cases that involved extreme phobia. I took a liking for a phobias involving paranormal experiences. Gayle Richards case was the one case that got in my head. It never made any sense to me it was like he was in a prison build around his own reality except he had they keys to the cell door. Even though he had the keys he was to scared to open it. I tried to assure him that the keys are in his hand for and only for him to open but when he finally opened the door he gave up. I couldn't understand why it was so but I also couldn't accept it either. I just had to know what was in that room, what made them kill themselves, what made them disappear, what made them look for the door, what made them still want to find it.