Book Synopsis
Book Tags
Donation Rankings
Comment
0 Comments
You May Also Like
墨書 Inktalez
Ethan opened the system and began browsing through the patient information that had just been uploaded to his computer. The letters on the screen flickered to reveal: "Christopher Ryan, 32 years old." He frowned slightly, quickly reading through the details. Christopher had no prior history of mental illness, and his health records indicated no drug allergies or family medical history. From this data, he appeared to be an ordinary, healthy young man. However, the presence of hallucinations often signified deeper psychological issues lurking beneath the surface.
Just as Ethan was about to continue analyzing the data, he suddenly heard two soft knocks at the door, pulling his thoughts back to reality. He looked up, shifting his gaze from the screen to the doorway, and said, "Please come in."
The door slowly creaked open, revealing a tense-looking man standing at the threshold. It was Christopher Ryan. Ethan noticed his pale complexion; although he was 32 years old, he looked as if he had already aged into his fifties. Deep wrinkles marked the corners of his eyes, and bloodshot veins filled his gaze, suggesting extreme instability in his mental state. He exuded a profound sense of fatigue and anxiety, as if he had been crushed under invisible pressure for a long time.
Ethan immediately put on a gentle and friendly smile, trying to lighten the atmosphere. He stood up and walked toward Christopher, greeting him in a soothing tone, "Hello, Christopher. Please come in."
Christopher's movements were somewhat stiff; his hands were tightly clasped together, and he leaned slightly forward, his eyes flickering nervously without daring to meet Ethan's gaze. He simply nodded and followed Ethan into the consultation room under his guidance. His steps appeared hesitant, as if driven by some invisible force to be here yet uncertain whether he should truly be doing so.
Once inside the consultation room, Christopher quickly scanned the area before reluctantly fixing his gaze on Ethan, his eyes filled with unease and confusion. As Ethan assessed the patient's condition, he silently calculated that this disconnection between body and mind was clearly not something that had developed overnight.
"Don't worry, Christopher. This is a safe place," Ethan said as he returned to his chair, his tone carrying a hint of reassurance and professional calmness. "You can tell me everything you are feeling; we can start wherever you like. Together we will find the root of the problem."
Christopher nervously swallowed hard, his gaze darting around as if struggling to organize his thoughts and find an outlet for the chaos within him.
His eyes flitted around the room anxiously, scanning every corner as if each object concealed unpredictable dangers. His breathing began to quicken; his chest rose and fell slightly as he gripped the armrests of the chair tightly, his knuckles turning white. Ethan sat behind the desk watching Christopher's fearful expression with growing concern. It was evident that he felt extremely uneasy in this room—as if he might be consumed by some unseen threat at any moment.
Ethan sighed softly, realizing that if this emotion continued to spread unchecked, Christopher might spiral into deeper panic. So he stood up slowly and pulled a chair in front of Christopher with deliberate calmness to avoid adding any sudden pressure on him. Sitting down at eye level with Christopher, Ethan spoke in a low and gentle voice: "Christopher, try to calm yourself; you're safe here. There is no problem that cannot be solved."
Christopher's gaze lingered on Ethan's face for a moment before shifting restlessly again; clearly still unable to shake off his inner fears completely. But Ethan knew that what mattered most at this moment was helping him find calmness. He gently raised his hand to signal Christopher to follow his lead. "Come on; let's take a deep breath together, okay? Slowly."
Ethan inhaled deeply and then exhaled slowly, maintaining a steady and focused expression. Christopher hesitated but ultimately attempted to mimic Ethan's actions; trembling fingers relaxed slightly as he closed his eyes. He began following Ethan's rhythm—taking deep breaths in and then slowly letting them out—though somewhat unsteadily, it seemed he was gradually starting to relax.
"Very good," Ethan encouraged softly, his tone soothing like a balm. "Close your eyes, don’t think about anything, just focus on your breathing... Take it slow, calm down a bit."
With the rhythm of his breath, Christopher's shoulders gradually relaxed, and the tension on his face began to ease. He still appeared restless, but the steadiness of his breathing indicated that he was making an effort to pull himself back from the whirlpool of fear. Ethan sat quietly with him, patiently waiting and giving him enough time to adjust his emotions. In this moment, his task was not to explain or solve any problems but to help Christopher find inner peace first.
Ethan quietly observed as Christopher's breathing became more even, and his tense shoulders loosened somewhat. He knew it was the right moment to ask gently, "Christopher, can you tell me what problems you've been facing lately?"
However, Ethan soon noticed something unusual. Although Christopher's emotions had eased somewhat, he had not made eye contact with Ethan even once. Ethan's gaze continually tried to catch Christopher's eyes, yet Christopher always deliberately avoided it. More accurately, he was avoiding Ethan's entire face, as if something prevented him from looking directly at it.
Ethan did not immediately interrupt this strange behavior; instead, he patiently waited for Christopher to speak up on his own. After a few seconds, it seemed that something was stuck in Christopher's throat. He swallowed hard, his voice hoarse and unsteady. "I... I don't know how to say this. I don't want to seem crazy, but..." He paused, a tremor in his voice as he added quietly, "Doctor, I... I'm really scared."
Ethan leaned slightly forward, his tone still gentle. "Tell me, Christopher; whatever it is, you can say it."
Christopher's hands gripped the armrests of the chair tightly, his body trembling slightly. He kept his head down, unable to muster the courage to look up at Ethan. His voice grew more shaky as he finally voiced the fear that weighed heavily on him: "I... Recently, everyone I see..." He paused again as if weighing how to express himself before panic seeped into his words. "Their faces... they all look the same. Every single person... has the same face."
As soon as those words left his mouth, the room fell into a suffocating silence. Ethan furrowed his brow; instinct told him this was not merely a simple hallucination. Christopher's fear ran so deep that he could not bear to look into anyone's face anymore—not even Ethan's. This abnormal phenomenon clearly touched upon the deepest fears within Christopher—a fear that was inexplicable and inescapable.
Ethan's mind raced quickly; although he maintained an outward calmness and professionalism, he began to realize that the issues this patient faced might be far more complex and dangerous than he had imagined.
Comment 0 Comment Count