u/Possessed-Tom

I’m sitting on the cold tile floor again, back pressed into the wall like it’s the only thing holding me upright. My hands are just… there. Heavy. Useless in my lap.

I don’t know how long I’ve been like this. The hallway hums above everything those fluorescent lights never stop, like they’re trying to grind my thoughts down into nothing.

Eventually I hear footsteps.

My doctor stops in front of me.

“You’re slowly hurting yourself, you know.”

I don’t look up at first. There’s no point. Then I do anyway, slowly, like it costs me something. My eyes feel sharp for a second too sharp. I don’t know what I’m feeling, just that it burns under my skin.

“Just take me to my room already,” I say.

My voice comes out flat. Wrong. Like it belongs to someone else.

He doesn’t respond.

He just turns and walks.

So I follow.

The hallway feels longer than it should. Everything does lately.

When we get there, the door shuts behind me with a clean click that feels too final. I don’t wait. I drop onto the bed, curling in on myself without even bothering to change. The mattress is cold in that way that makes it feel like it doesn’t want me there.

My eyes start to shut on their own.

Finally.

Sleep.

The lights are fading when I hear it.

The door opens again.

Of course it does.

“What do you want now…” I mutter, already tired, already done. My voice comes out sharper than I mean it to.

I force myself to sit up.

He’s still there.

Standing in the same spot. Not moving. Just watching me.

I blink slowly.

Something feels wrong immediately.

Not just “wrong” like usual. Something deeper. Like my brain is refusing to process what I’m seeing properly.

His face… it doesn’t sit right. The edges don’t belong where they are. His mouth feels too wide when he’s not speaking. His eyes are sunk too deep, like they’ve been pushed back into his skull. His skin looks stretched, like it’s holding something in that it shouldn’t be holding.

I lean back a little without meaning to.

“Stop staring at me,” I say.

He doesn’t answer.

Of course he doesn’t.

My head starts to hurt. A slow pressure building behind my eyes, like something is pushing from the inside. The room feels too dim now, even though the lights are still on. They flicker at the edge of my vision, pulsing in and out like they’re breathing.

And then

He tilts his head.

Just slightly.

And smiles.

Not like a person smiles.

Like something learned it from watching people do it, and got it wrong.

knew something was wrong the moment they brought me in.

The hallway was too quiet. Not the normal kind of quiet this was controlled. Measured. Like even sound had been reduced on purpose. The staff walked beside me without urgency, their voices low and practiced, like they were reading lines they’d said too many times before.

Ever since Larrson escaped
my brother everything in this place had changed.

Even the air felt watched.

We stopped in front of a door I didn’t recognize.

Inside was almost empty.

A cold metal chair sat bolted into the floor, facing a television mounted high on the wall. No windows. No decorations. No warmth. Just the chair and the screen.

I remember staring at it for a long time before I spoke.

“What is this?”

One of the staff smiled at me. It didn’t reach their eyes.

“You’ve been unstable lately,” they said softly. “We’re helping you. This is for your own safety.”

I looked between them and the chair.

“How is this safety…”

No one answered that.

They guided me in anyway.

Their hands were careful as they strapped me down wrists, chest, legs like they’d done it so many times they didn’t need to think about it anymore. Like I wasn’t a person who could say no.

One of them leaned in before leaving.

“You’ll feel better soon,” they said.

Then the door closed.

The lock clicked.

And I was alone.

The TV turned on by itself.

At first it was noise static, shifting colors, broken images that didn’t make sense. I thought maybe it was random. A malfunction.

Then it changed.

Faces. Scenes. Violence stitched together in a way that didn’t feel accidental. It felt arranged. Like someone had chosen every second of it carefully. Like it was meant to wear something down inside me slowly, without breaking the surface all at once.

I pulled against the straps.

They didn’t loosen.

No one came when I called. Not once.

Time stopped making sense.

One hour. Three. Maybe more.

By the time it reached nine, I couldn’t trust my thoughts anymore. My body felt heavy, then distant, like it didn’t fully belong to me. My eyes wouldn’t stay closed even when I wanted them to. Sleep didn’t come. Relief didn’t come.

Only the screen.

Only the noise.

Only the waiting.

When the door finally opened again, it felt unreal.

The staff came in like nothing had happened. Calm. Smiling faintly.

“You’re doing better now,” one of them said, as if they were checking off a result on a list.

They undid the straps carefully.

I couldn’t answer them.

I don’t think I even had the strength to understand what “better” was supposed to mean anymore.

The hallway outside was brighter, but it didn’t feel safer.

Edward was waiting there.

When he saw me, his face changed immediately.

“What did they do to you?”

I tried to stand, but my legs didn’t hold.

The world tilted.

Edward caught me before I hit the floor.

I remember the moment his arms went around me firm, steady and everything else just… stopped fighting.

He didn’t ask again. He just moved me.

He carried me down the hallway and sat me on a couch in a small waiting space tucked into the corridor. I don’t even remember it being there before. It felt like it had always existed, like the building created it just for moments like this.

My head rested against the armrest. My breathing was uneven.

Edward stayed close.

Not talking much.

Just there.

Like he was making sure I didn’t disappear.

And somewhere in the back of my mind, through the exhaustion and static in my thoughts, I kept thinking about Larrson. how everything changed after he escaped

About how “help” in this place never felt like help at all.

The mall has been dead for years. No lights except emergency ones that barely work. No music. No people. Just empty storefronts and glass everywhere, like it’s been breaking slowly over time.

I went there because it was quiet.

No doctors. No voices. No one calling my name. Just… nothing.

I thought that would help.

It didn’t.

I remember walking past the food court. Chairs flipped over, posters peeling off the walls. There’s a leak in the ceiling somewhere water dripping into the same spot over and over like it’s stuck.

I stopped for a second. Just to breathe.

That’s when something moved behind me.

Too close.

An arm wrapped around my chest before I could turn. Something pressed over my mouth and nose. It smelled chemical. Sharp. Wrong.

I tried to pull away, but it barely counted as trying.

I was already tired before I even got there. Like my body didn’t have anything left to give. Even fear felt slow.

Whoever it was leaned close and said, “Stay still. It’ll be easier if you don’t fight it.”

I think I believed them.

Everything started stretching. The lights, the hallway… it all blurred. My legs just stopped working. I didn’t fall. It felt more like the ground decided I was done standing.

The last thing I saw clearly was a broken SALE sign swinging above a closed store.

There wasn’t any wind.

Then everything went quiet.

I woke up in pieces.

Not all at once. Just fragments.

The first thing I noticed was the smell. Rotten carpet. Damp air. Something chemical still stuck in my throat. It made me feel sick immediately.

I was lying on something soft. A mattress, I think. Old. Thin.

I tried to sit up and couldn’t at first. My arms were shaking like I hadn’t used them in days.

The room felt wrong.

Too dark.

Not normal dark thicker than that. Like it was sitting in the air.

I managed to sit up halfway and that’s when I realized I wasn’t alone.

There was someone in the corner.

They hadn’t left.

They were just… standing there.

Watching.

I asked them why they locked me in here. My voice barely came out.

They didn’t answer right away.

Then they said, “You walked in here alone. No one comes here unless they want something.”

I told them I didn’t want this.

They said I did.

Not angry. Just certain.

They started getting closer, but I still couldn’t see their face right. Every time I tried to focus, it just… slipped.

“You were tired,” they said. “You stopped. You didn’t fight.”

I told them I was exhausted.

They said, “Exactly.”

I realized then I couldn’t leave.

Not because I couldn’t move but because something had already decided I wasn’t going to.

I asked what they were going to do to me.

I heard a click behind me. A lock.

“You’re already locked in,” they said.

I told them to let me out.

They didn’t.

Time doesn’t feel normal here.

I don’t know how long I’ve been sitting on this mattress. The air feels used, like it’s already been breathed too many times.

I tried telling them they can’t just keep me here.

They said, “I already am.”

I told them I’d rather be back in a mental institution.

At least there are people there. At least it’s real.

They repeated the word “real” like it didn’t mean anything.

Then they started talking again.

They said I was drugged there too.

Watched.

Kept in rooms.

Told when to sleep. When to wake up.

I told them it’s not the same.

They asked me if it really isn’t.

I didn’t have a good answer.

They said I didn’t leave that place either. Not really.

Then they pointed something out I didn’t even think about.

I didn’t bring my phone.

I didn’t tell anyone where I was going.

They said that wasn’t an accident.

They said I came here to disappear.

I told them that’s not true.

But it didn’t sound right when I said it.

They said I was already leaving everything behind, and they just made sure I didn’t turn back.

I don’t know how to explain this part, but…

It’s starting to make sense in a way I don’t like.

Like something in my head is agreeing with them.

They told me I don’t have to think here. I don’t have to choose anything.

I just stay.

I told them I can’t.

They said, “You already are.”

I keep getting tired again.

It’s the same feeling as before. Heavy. Slow. Like my body is shutting things off one at a time.

They’re still here.

I can feel it even when I can’t see them.

Just standing there. Waiting. Watching like they already know I’m not going anywhere. And the worst part is… I’m starting to think they’re right.