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墨書 Inktalez
Almost a week had passed, and Ethan's life seemed to have returned to its normal rhythm. The strange dreams and bizarre faces appeared to fade away with the passage of time, as if they had completely vanished. His daily routine resumed its orderly pace, with work at the clinic, time spent with Sofia, and everything else in life seemingly back to square one.
However, today, Ethan sat in his office with an unusual feeling stirring within him. Alone, he leaned back in his chair, his hands slightly clenched. He felt a mix of excitement and an indescribable fear. He was uncertain whether he had truly shaken off that terrifying face, and he couldn't tell if this calm was genuinely the end of it all or merely the quiet before the storm. Doubts lingered in his mind, questioning whether that bizarre experience had really come to a close.
Ethan's gaze fell upon the computer screen on his desk as he opened Christopher's medical file once more. The interview from that day and Christopher's account were still vivid in his memory, especially that cursed mask which haunted him even now.
"It's been a week..." Ethan murmured to himself, feeling unable to ignore the tranquility of this time. Christopher had not returned for a follow-up appointment; logically speaking, the medication he prescribed should have been finished by now. If the issue remained unresolved, Christopher should have reached out or come back to the clinic. Yet, there had been no word at all.
Perhaps... Christopher's problem was simply a matter of psychological stress; perhaps that "strange face" was just a fleeting illusion with no deeper psychiatric implications. Ethan tried to convince himself of this, but deep down, an unsettling shadow lingered that he couldn't fully erase. He sensed that things were not so simple; just like his own experiences that night, everything from Christopher's description to his subsequent dreams seemed intertwined.
His fingers lightly tapped on the desk as his focus remained on Christopher's medical file. Thoughts surged like a tide, leaving him uneasy. This uncertainty gnawed at his rationality; he wanted to believe that Christopher's issues had been resolved but found it impossible to shake off the doubts in his mind.
Ethan took a deep breath, striving to calm himself. He needed to approach this rationally and not let fear and the unknown lead him astray. After all, for a psychologist, patients' problems often ran deeper than they appeared on the surface. He didn't want to dwell too much on it, yet that persistent worry clung to him like a shadow, refusing to be dismissed.
"Maybe... I'm just overthinking it," Ethan whispered to himself, attempting to suppress his anxiety with logic. He gently shook his head and closed the medical file on the screen, trying to cast aside the worries of the past week. But that vague fear still lurked deep within him like a coiled serpent waiting for the right moment to strike again.
Ethan looked up at the clock on the wall of his office; the hands were nearing five o'clock, and the atmosphere in the clinic grew quiet and oppressive. At this moment, he realized that all of today's scheduled patients had finished their appointments. Like last Monday, he found himself alone once again during this final stretch of time—sitting here while the clinic was silent enough for him to hear his own breathing.
He stared at the clock as an inexplicable tension welled up inside him. This stillness brought about an eerie sense of déjà vu as if he were back in that unsettling moment from last week. Ethan felt something was amiss; this sensation was like a latent pressure ready to erupt at any moment.
"It won't happen..." he whispered inwardly, trying to suppress the rising anxiety. Yet deep down, he couldn't deny that if Christopher were to appear right now, it would make everything even stranger—perhaps even terrifying. A week had passed without Christopher returning for a follow-up appointment; however, this quiet twilight moment made it impossible for Ethan to ignore the lurking unease.
"Could it be like last time... suddenly showing up unannounced?" Ethan thought as his hand instinctively tightened around the armrest of his chair. The scene felt too familiar—the last patient of the day, an empty clinic, and twilight hours creeping in. He could feel his heartbeat quickening as everything before him seemed to overlap with that day once again.
However, he took a deep breath, forcing himself to calm down. "Nothing will happen; Christopher might be fine," he told himself, struggling to suppress his fear with rationality. He shook his head, placing his hands on the table, softly encouraging himself. "You're just overthinking it, Ethan. Everything is normal. It's just an ordinary afternoon."
He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply, allowing that calm energy to slowly seep into his body, reminding himself that this was merely a psychological battle, unrelated to reality. Calmness was his usual demeanor and a hallmark of his profession as a psychologist. Ethan repeatedly reinforced this in his mind, trying to steady his racing heart.
"Everything will be alright," he whispered to himself, staring at the pen on the table, his fingers lightly tapping the surface in an attempt to distract himself. This evening could be like any other ordinary afternoon; all he needed was a bit of patience and composure—but the persistent shadow within him felt like a cold stone pressing against his heart.
Just as Ethan struggled to calm himself and forced himself to believe that everything would end peacefully, the ringing of the intercom suddenly shattered the tranquility of the clinic. The sound pierced through Ethan's nerves like a sharp blade, causing him to tense up instantly.
Then, Becky's voice came through the intercom, laced with a hint of weariness and laziness, as if she had long grown tired of this name: "It's that Mr. Christopher again, Doctor..." There was an undertone of unease and impatience in Becky's tone as she added, "He seems a bit... off. Be careful."
Ethan's hair stood on end; he froze in his chair as if enveloped by an invisible chill. His mind was instantly filled with fear; this moment felt too strange—strange enough to make him feel as if he were part of a terrifying prank show where every detail was perfectly orchestrated.
"It can't be..." Ethan whispered inwardly, wanting to deny the reality of it all. Christopher hadn't shown up for a week; why would he appear at this bizarre twilight hour? Moreover, this moment resonated so perfectly with the fear in his heart that he couldn't help but think some conspiracy or sinister force was manipulating everything.
His heart raced faster, blood roaring in his ears as he felt his throat tighten, making it hard to breathe. His trembling hand reached for the mouse on the table and clicked open Christopher's file on the computer screen. The details of the case remained unchanged, yet those simple words now felt like they bore some kind of curse, coldly staring back at Ethan.
Ethan's gaze fell on the medical record but he couldn't focus; his breathing grew more rapid, and his heartbeat seemed to crash violently against his chest as if it were about to leap out. He felt an overwhelming pressure closing in from all sides, rendering him unable to think clearly. This eerie atmosphere flooded his mind with countless unsettling thoughts, as if Christopher's arrival signified an impending disaster that could not be resisted.
"How is this possible..." Ethan murmured to himself, eyes glued to the screen, palms sweating as an uncontrollable fear surged within him. He tried to calm himself down, telling himself it was all just a coincidence, but deep inside him, fear loomed like a dark vortex slowly consuming him.
As he desperately tried to regain his composure, his heart continued to pound fiercely alongside an indescribable tension and unease.
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