♠️𝓥𝓮𝓷𝓸𝓶𝓸𝓾𝓼 𝓒𝓾𝓻𝓮 🐝 (Caleb Finn X reader)

☠ Ⓒ𝕙𝔞ᑭtєŘ 𝕆Ň𝑒 🐼

You awoke to the sound of vibrating, indicating that your phone was going off. Sleepily, you answered it after you checked the name. One of your co-workers were calling you in a panic, talking frantically. "(Y/n), you've got to come down here quick. This one is....challenging." You heard them say. You scoff at the sound, "I'll be there. Give me 40." You sat there for a bit after you ended the call and took a deep breath, feeling an slight feeling of worry. For some reason, you felt as if this one was going to bring you troubles. As if you didn't know what you were really in for. You had never felt this feeling before, which brought more anxiety to you. However, it wasn't something too big to dwell on so you proceeded with getting dressed in proper clothes. Just because you'll be seeing a crazy person doesn't mean you have to look like a crazy person, right?
When you walked inside, you heard loud screaming, a male screaming in pure anger. Things that were being thrown around could be heard from the back room that other employees were in. You led yourself to the room. You put your hand on the doorknob then heard a bang directly onto the door. It took you back a bit and drew a gasp from your mouth, making you even more fearful for what was going to be inside that room. You shook your head, bringing your confidence back to your body.
You opened the door and saw doctors on the ground, groaning in pain as if they were in a fight, You looked up and saw a restrained man, looked to be in his mid 20's. He seemed casual and calm, which confused you since there were doctors around him looking as if they got beat up. He had brunette, messy, fluffy hair that covered up his eye slightly. He looked up at you and his stare felt as if he pierced through your soul. The confidence you had regain had sinked out of your body. His deep blue eyes looked as if they told so many stories, which made you grow interest in this man. You wanted to know who he was, why was he like this, what was his identity. You closed the door, feeling your heart pound inside your chest at an irregular beat. Something was different...and you didn't know why. "No bother," you thought. You took a deep breath and proceeded to head back to the front desk, meeting up with your coworker. "Anne, what's the name of that patient? What information is on his file?" You ask.
Anne, your coworker, hummed as she opened a drawer that contained multiple. "Finn...Finn...Ah! Here he is." She slid out the file, opening it and reading aloud. "Caleb Finn, age 25 years old, born on December 9th 1994. He is of Australian nationality and white ethnicity. Blah, blah, blah...Oh! At age 10, he was diagnosed with DID and later diagnosed with depression and severe anxiety. According to sister, he was exposed to extreme trauma as a child-" "what kind of trauma?" You ask, interrupting your coworker. She looked through and shrugged. "Doesn't say. He is often forgetful with people and surroundings and whenever he switches between personalities, his sister describes him as being 'out of body.' He has also been reported as seeing hallucinations, hearing voices, and tasting things that aren't there...whatever sense that makes."
Anne closes the files. You sigh, "Seems like a total basket case. No bother, I'm sure that I'll be able to handle him." "Are you sure? He seems like a major challenge and I can feel that deep down you don't truly know what you're up against." "I'm as sure as I'll ever be, Anne. I've dealt with murderers before. Also, I'm not against him. I'm trying to help him. This isn't some dictatorship." You said as you rolled your eyes. You yawn and shake your head, wiping the sleep from your eyes. "Nevertheless, I must get home. It's late at night and my shift doesn't start for another 6 hours. I'll make sure that Mr. Finn is the first person that I see tomorrow. See you then." Anne wishes you a goodbye and you walk out.
As you drove home, you couldn't stop think about the look Caleb gave you. How his eyes had pressed you the way that they did. No one had ever looked at you that way. It had almost made you...no! That's unprofessional to think about that; to think about him in that way! "Stay professional, (y/n). You're better than that." You think to yourself. You're better than that. Remember that.
You arrive at home and go back to the comfort of your room, in your pajamas and in your bed. You lie awake and hear Anne's voice ring in your head, repeating the words she once said.
"I can feel that deep down you don't truly know what you're up against." You furrow your brows and turn over in your bed. You think,"I know what I'm up against. Another psychopath...right?" You pause and say aloud, "Do I truly know?"