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Ethan furrowed his brow, feeling a mix of confusion and unease at Christopher's account. He took a moment to gather his thoughts, attempting to guide Christopher with reason and professionalism. "Christopher, there are many forms of hallucinations. Based on your description, I need to understand more specifically what you've experienced. Hallucinations can sometimes be visual, like seeing things that aren't there; other times they can be auditory, hearing sounds that don't exist, and there can even be tactile or olfactory hallucinations."
Ethan paused briefly to observe Christopher's reaction before continuing, "I need you to think carefully about what you're facing. What type might it be? The faces you see... do they appear suddenly, or do they only show up at certain moments or in specific situations?"
Christopher kept his head down, his hands nervously rubbing against the chair as if he were trying to sort through his thoughts. His breathing became rapid, as if he were desperately trying to recall those terrifying images. After a few seconds, he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and trembling. "The faces I see..." He took a deep breath, fear lacing his tone, "Their faces start to become strange... like they're being pulled by something... all their features squished together, twisted in a way that's completely wrong."
Ethan listened intently, his brow furrowing even deeper. Just as he was about to press for more details, Christopher's voice suddenly dropped to a somber tone, tinged with gloom. "And... after their faces twist, I always see the same face... a face I've been seeing over and over in my dreams."
At that moment, Christopher's body began to tremble involuntarily, as if the appearance of that face filled him with extreme dread. "That face is pale and grayish, like a color drained of life." His voice was barely above a whisper, as if he were struggling to suppress the terror within him. "But the most frightening part is that face always wears a smile... an evil smile... it's not a normal smile; it sends chills down my spine as if it knows something I don't..."
Ethan listened quietly, feeling a chill creep up his spine. Christopher's description made him realize that these hallucinations were not merely manifestations of psychological stress. That face—pale, grayish, with its eerie smile—seemed to harbor some indescribable malice that relentlessly followed him even in dreams. This was not just an ordinary hallucination; it felt more like a force that had thoroughly invaded Christopher's consciousness.
Christopher's voice grew increasingly shaky as he spoke; his gaze lost focus as if he had already been consumed by that horrific vision. His breathing quickened, shoulders trembling slightly as he gripped his head tightly, knuckles turning white in an attempt to suppress the fear within. He closed his eyes in anguish, his face contorting as if trapped in an unending nightmare.
"Dr. Ethan... please help me..." His voice was low and raspy, filled with despair. "I can't hold on much longer... that face—it keeps following me... no matter where I go, it's there... I can't live normally anymore!"
As he spoke, his body shook uncontrollably; his hands helplessly covered his face while his fingertips pressed tightly against his forehead as if trying to hide from the painful memories flooding back. Ethan looked at the man before him who was on the brink of collapse and felt a heavy pressure in his chest. Yet he knew he had to remain calm at this moment. Christopher's state was dangerous; he needed help stabilizing.
"Christopher, calm down and follow my lead—breathe deeply." Ethan stood before him with a gentle yet firm tone, trying to guide him away from fear. He lightly patted Christopher's shoulder to remind him of his presence and pull him back from that boundless terror into reality. "You're safe here; you can relax. We'll solve this problem together—there's nothing we can't resolve."
Christopher's breathing remained erratic; his body continued to tremble, but it seemed he heard Ethan's words and began to struggle for control over his breath. As Ethan comforted him, he understood that this level of fear clearly hadn't formed overnight. Hallucinations—especially such vivid and persistent ones—were indicative of deeper psychological issues.
"You need to take your time; first stabilize yourself." Ethan continued softly guiding him while focusing intently on Christopher to ensure he followed the rhythm of their breathing together. "Breathe in deeply with me and then exhale slowly... just like this—yes, that's right; take it slow."
Under Ethan's guidance, Christopher began to mimic his movements. Although he still trembled slightly, his breathing gradually became steadier, and the tension in his shoulders slowly eased. Seeing this, Ethan let out a small sigh of relief, feeling that Christopher was finally able to gain some control over himself; it was a good start.
"Now, tell me, has anything special happened recently?" Ethan asked softly, maintaining a calm and professional demeanor. "When did these hallucinations begin? Was there any specific event or situation that made you feel particularly stressed? How do you think they started?"
Christopher's gaze remained flickering, as if he could not look directly at Ethan. His body was no longer shaking violently, but it was still filled with anxiety, as if that face lingered in his mind, refusing to fade away. He swallowed hard, his eyes darting around as if afraid that speaking might trigger some unsettling memory.
"Hallucinations are usually caused by stress, anxiety, or mental states," Ethan continued patiently, trying to guide Christopher back to reality with reason. "Sometimes the brain sends out false signals when under too much pressure, making you see or feel things that aren't real. That doesn't mean you're going crazy. Many people have experienced this; we can find the cause and work through it step by step."
Christopher slowly lifted his head, but his gaze remained unfocused. He seemed to want to say something, but his lips trembled, and the words failed to come out smoothly. After a moment, he finally spoke, his voice hoarse and pained: "I... I don't know what triggered it... it just started suddenly..." He took a deep breath as if recalling those terrifying images and added, "That face... it's not just a hallucination, Dr. Ethan... I feel like it's watching me... like it's alive..."
Christopher's fingers began to tremble uncontrollably again; his emotions were clearly spiraling out of control once more. His eyes reddened, tears welling up in their corners as he bit down on his lip, seemingly struggling within himself before finally breaking down and exclaiming: "I... I shouldn't have touched that mask... why didn't I listen? Why was I so curious..."
Hearing this, Ethan raised an eyebrow slightly, instantly realizing the significance of those words. He sat there calmly, his gaze sharp and focused as he began to ponder this new clue in his mind. The patient's issues were evidently closely tied to that mask, though the specifics remained unclear. Maintaining his professional composure, Ethan gently but inquisitively asked, "What mask? Can you tell me more?"
Christopher cradled his head in his hands, his eyes filled with regret and fear as his voice continued to tremble: "It was... a strange mask I encountered during my trip last month..."
He paused for a moment as if sorting through his memories before continuing: "Last month, I went on a group trip to a remote mountainous area where there was an indigenous tribe... The guide said it was a cultural experience—a five-day camping trip in the mountains. I just wanted to relax and escape the pressures of the city."
Ethan listened quietly, carefully capturing every detail; these words seemed to clarify Christopher's fears further. The mask... camping... remote tribe. These elements pieced together made Ethan feel that some unknown force lurked within this story.
Christopher's voice grew more subdued as if some enormous shadow loomed deep within him: "One day, I left the camp to help gather firewood... At that moment, I wandered a bit too far and accidentally stumbled upon what looked like an abandoned cabin. That place... it seemed forgotten deep in the forest; everything around was silent except for the rustling leaves... I shouldn't have gone inside, but I felt like... it was drawing me in, urging me to see what was inside."
As he spoke these words, Christopher's voice trembled even more; it seemed that the image of that cabin and the mask replayed incessantly in his mind.
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