𝑨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 - ___ '𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳, 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘰𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘦 𝘪𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘷𝘰𝘤𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦.' '𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥, 𝘯𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘴𝘶𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘪𝘭𝘺. 𝘐𝘵'𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘥𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭, 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺.' '𝘠𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘧 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘦𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘱𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘥 𝘳𝘪𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵'𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦.' --- You, a human woman with biologically edited lungs made as a part of one of many missions that RDA has conducted, exist only as an expensive survivor of experiments placed upon you, to support their work. Only as you would come of age, would you soon venture out across Pandora's soil - a lost world that has awaited you for years of studying and training. Despite this, that same day you would take your first steps on your own behalf, you would find yourself somehow captive by one of the many forest clans - the Paynga' people of the foggy rainforests, and a highly provoked, threatening Olo'eyktan. ---

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡 𝙄𝙣𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝙉𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡. ___ "𝘐 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘭𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳'𝘴." "𝘛𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘱𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘹 𝘰𝘯 𝘮𝘦, 𝘢𝘴 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘧𝘢𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘭𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵." "𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨." "𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘺 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰𝘶𝘭 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶." --- He was a man of everything nobody was - everything shunned and ostracized from uniformed society. A man painted by the ink sprawled across his pale skin, a voice lined with Russian heritage and words speaking of a history woven with jeopardy and incarceration. Nevertheless, he was shameless. Of his life. The things he'd done, and how he'd approached you so easily. Yet, by the impulsive development of an unspoken, yet complicated relationship, you're naivety of his instability would come to threaten you're life. As to you, he was a man of a situation-ship of sorts - casual, unresolved in what you two actually were. But to him - you were much more than a fling, more than something casual. You were already his, whether you knew it or not. ---

𝑨 𝙮𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙤𝙧𝙮 - ___ "𝙒𝙝𝙤 𝙝𝙖𝙨 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙟𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙨𝙙𝙞𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙩𝙤 𝙨𝙖𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙢𝙪𝙨𝙩 𝙤𝙣𝙡𝙮 𝙗𝙚 𝙨𝙤𝙛𝙩 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝙩𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙚𝙧?" ___ 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. 𝘚𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘶𝘭𝘭 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘴𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘤𝘤𝘶𝘱𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘯𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘶𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘴. 𝘐 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘧 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯. 𝘈 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦. 𝘖𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦. 𝘞𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘺 𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘬𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘻𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘴; 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦. 𝘠𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰 𝘧𝘢𝘳. ___

𝘏𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘴 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘳, 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘦𝘹𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯'𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘸𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘰𝘸𝘯, 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘦. 𝘈𝘴 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴, 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘥𝘭𝘺 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘪𝘨𝘯 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘶𝘴𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘳 𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘳𝘪𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥. 𝘕𝘰𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱𝘴 𝘩𝘪𝘮𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦, 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘢𝘻𝘦, 𝘵𝘢𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘨𝘶𝘦𝘥 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥. ---

"𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺? 𝘥𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘰' '𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺, 𝘐'𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘵𝘢𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘯', 𝘢 𝘭𝘪𝘭' 𝘶𝘯𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘤𝘵𝘢𝘣𝘭𝘦." "𝘉𝘦𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘴, 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘯 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘦𝘴𝘵." "𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘪'𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘴 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴." --- They would ooze rumours of both you're name, placed with the utterly specific adjectives, 'deranged', 'psychotic', and simply 'sick'. That was what you were known for, context or not. It was a simple way of living. Within the red-dirt town of Sandrange, with little entertainment and a harbour of saloon-goers in need of any form of amusement, this made you a target whether you liked it or not. Although, not unfamiliar with the wording, it's both the eyes of their burning scowls and the words that spit like fire from their tongue's that become something you can never get used to. So, you never left home. Cacooned in your home for weeks to months on end, all to hide from the town and the prejudice they willingly held, this torturous routine had only been broken by the two knocks on my door, and the call of the Sheriff requesting to come inside. ---

"𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦, 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨." "𝘛𝘳𝘶𝘭𝘺, 𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘺, 𝘸𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨." "𝘐'𝘮 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘴𝘴. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦," "𝘖𝘳 𝘴𝘰 𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵." "𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨, 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨." 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵, 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘭 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨." ━━━ For five, long, drawn-out years, you have spent them working within the lavish, billion-dollar company known as Slava Corporations, run by a mysterious, highly regarded Russian man. Though you have never seen this man's face, nor have met them in any form, for years, your intrigue has peaked. and within the weeks, an invite for a New Year's work party is emailed towards you. this, this one, singular invite, is the one thing that leads you face-to-face with the man whom you've pondered about for years. and he did not disappoint. ━━━

"𝘖𝘩, 𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨... 𝘢 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘭 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦?" "𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘳, 𝘠𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦," "𝘢𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴..." "𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯." "... 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘴, 𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘰𝘧 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦..." ━━━ Chained, owned, and used, you could only remember the nights you'd been forced to spend shooting tapes and performing for the demon overlord, Valentino. He possessed you. Well and truly, down to the exact signature where you unknowingly signed yourself away, naive and helplessly oblivious to the years of pain it would strike and consume you with. Consumed and enveloped till you saw no hope within yourself, no chance of escaping. Pulled down in the deepest depths of hell, the sudden, almost too-good-to-be-true sign of hope blinded you. Alastor. The radio demon. He was your chance, your chance to escape the plagueful clutches of Valentino's contract, and to possibly build anew. Though, it was too good to be true. And you didn't realise that till you'd fallen under his spell. ━━━ (I do not own Hazbin Hotel !)

𝙏𝙝𝙚 𝘿𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙡 𝙄𝙣𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙖𝙩𝙚 𝘿𝙧𝙖𝙛𝙩 𝙉𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡 - 𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙨 𝙉𝙊𝙏 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡; 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙤𝙛𝙛𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙖𝙡 𝙣𝙤𝙫𝙚𝙡 𝙞𝙨 𝙞𝙣 𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙙𝙪𝙘𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣 𝙘𝙪𝙧𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮. --- "𝘋𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘢 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘤𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶?" "𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘸𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨?" "𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯," "𝘞𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘨𝘰, 𝘸𝘩𝘰'𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥." "𝘐'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘺𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭." "𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐'𝘮 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵'𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘰 𝘮𝘦." --- As a new nurse at the Psychiatric Ward, one of your assigned patients is Stanislav Dostoevsky. A Russian man with a thick accent, an unkempt appearance and a dark demeanour lingers around him, in a greater contrast to the other patients. It wasn't the silence and distance he held from others within the Psychiatric Ward that was terrifying, it was the intensity of his gaze, the way the glow of the sterile tiles and walls reflected against the whites of his eyes, and just how much he's been observing. --- (This is based on a C.ai Bot I created and its storyline! The characters and storyline were all created by me! The C.ai bot link will be in the author's note within the first chapter along with detailed warnings and such!) ---