The late afternoon sun bathed the hospital yard in a warm, golden light, casting long shadows across the well-manicured lawn. A few nurses and doctors milled about, enjoying their brief moments of respite. The gentle rustling of leaves and the distant hum of city life created a serene atmosphere, a stark contrast to the intensity that often permeated the hospital's walls.
Erich sat on a bench near the edge of the yard, his back resting against the cool stone wall. Beside him, a vending machine hummed softly, its glass front displaying an array of drinks and snacks. He was staring thoughtfully at a piece of paper in his hands, the list of books that 402 had requested earlier. His eyes skimmed over the titles, but his mind was elsewhere, lost in thought.
Viktor approached from the vending machine, two cans of soda in hand. He tossed one to Erich, who caught it without looking up, still engrossed in the paper.
"So, how's it going with the new patient?" Viktor asked, popping open his own can and taking a sip. He leaned against the wall, his eyes on Erich.
"It's going well," Erich replied, his voice distant as he continued to study the list. "He's... interesting. Different from most of the patients we get here."
Viktor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Must be something special if you're taking an interest. What kind of patient is he?"
Erich finally looked up, folding the paper and tucking it into his pocket. "Why don't you meet him yourself? You might find him interesting too."
Viktor chuckled, nodding in agreement. "Maybe I will." He handed Erich the second can, which Erich accepted with a small nod of thanks. "What's that you were looking at, anyway?" Viktor asked, gesturing toward Erich's pocket.
"A list of books 402 asked for," Erich explained, pulling the paper back out and handing it to Viktor.
Viktor scanned the list, his brow furrowing slightly as he read. "Philosophy, psychology, poetry... This guy could've been a professor or something, based on these titles."
Erich smiled, amused by Viktor's growing interest. "Looks like 402 is catching your attention now, too."
Viktor handed the list back, shaking his head in disbelief. "Well, it's not every day we get a patient who can catch the interest of someone like you. He must be quite something."
Erich took a sip from his can, leaning back on the bench. "Should I take that as a compliment or not?"
Viktor grinned, clapping Erich on the shoulder. "Take it however you want, my friend."
The two doctors sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the camaraderie between them evident in the easy way they shared their thoughts. The sun continued its descent, casting a golden glow over the yard as the minutes ticked by.
Later on, when it was time for Erich to monitor 402, he made his way to the patient's room. The hospital was quieter now, the bustle of the day having died down, leaving only the soft footsteps of the staff as they went about their evening routines.
Erich knocked lightly on the door before pushing it open. Inside, 402 was seated on the bed, a book in his hands—the very book of poetry Erich had approved earlier. The other books were stacked neatly on the bedside table, within easy reach.
402 looked up as Erich entered, a warm smile on his face. "Doctor, good to see you. Thank you again for the books."
"No problem," Erich replied, returning the smile. "Are you enjoying them?"
"I am," 402 said, closing the book and placing it on the table with the others. "They've given me a lot to think about."
Erich nodded, pleased. "I'm glad to hear that. But, honestly, I've been thinking... these monitoring sessions are probably getting a bit boring for you, aren't they?"
402 tilted his head slightly, curious. "What do you mean?"
"Well," Erich said, his tone playful, "I was thinking we could make things a bit more interesting. How about you come with me on my rounds today? Get out of this room for a while and see the hospital."
402's eyes lit up at the suggestion, a look of genuine excitement crossing his face. "That sounds like fun. I'd like that."
"Great!" Erich said, stepping aside and holding the door open. "Shall we?"
402 stood from the bed and joined Erich at the door, the two of them walking side by side through the hospital's quiet corridors. The atmosphere was calm, almost serene, as they made their way to another patient's room.
When they reached the door, Erich knocked gently before stepping inside, with 402 following close behind. The room was dimly lit, casting soft shadows across the walls, and the faint scent of antiseptic lingered in the air. A low hum from a nearby monitor filled the silence, punctuated only by the occasional beep that marked the passing seconds. The patient, a young boy of around ten years old, lay on the bed, his frail body partially covered by a thin, white blanket. His face was pale, and dark circles underlined his eyes, giving him a haunted appearance.
Erich approached the bed slowly, his expression gentle and soothing. "Hello, how are you feeling today?" he asked, his voice soft, like a warm breeze on a cold day.
At first, the boy didn't respond. His gaze remained fixed on the ceiling, unfocused and distant, as if he were seeing something far beyond the confines of the room. His fingers twitched slightly, gripping the edge of the blanket as though it were his only anchor to reality. The silence stretched on for a few uncomfortable seconds before the boy's eyes finally flickered toward Erich, then shifted to 402, who stood quietly by the door.
The boy's gaze lingered on 402, his eyes narrowing slightly as if trying to place him in a world that no longer made sense. A flicker of confusion crossed his face, his breathing growing a little more uneven as he studied the newcomer. Then, just as quickly, his eyes darted back to the ceiling, as though he were retreating back into the safety of his own mind.
"I... I'm okay, I guess," the boy finally answered, his voice shaky and hesitant. It was the voice of someone who wasn't entirely sure of where he was or even who he was. Each word seemed to take a great deal of effort, as though he were dragging them up from a place deep inside, where reality was a foggy, distant memory.
As the boy spoke, his eyes shifted again, this time to the corner of the room. There was nothing there—just a plain wall, bathed in shadow—but the boy stared at it with an intensity that suggested he saw something else entirely. His expression tightened, his breath hitching slightly as he glanced back and forth between Erich, 402, and the corner. A subtle shiver ran through him, and his fingers clutched the blanket a little tighter.
402 observed the boy carefully, his expression thoughtful. "Is it schizophrenia or identity disorder?" he asked Erich, his tone confident, as though the symptoms were obvious.
Erich suppressed a smile, impressed by 402's astuteness. "What makes you think that?"
"The boy keeps glancing at the corner of the room, as if someone's there," 402 explained, his voice calm and analytical. "His speech is slow and disordered, which are typical symptoms of schizophrenia. But his eyes... they seem detached, like he's not fully here, and his memories of today seem scattered, which are signs of identity disorder."
Erich nodded, genuinely impressed. "You're almost right. It's actually a rare case of both—schizophrenia and dissociative identity disorder."
Almost as if a switch had been flipped, the boy's demeanor suddenly changed. His eyes sharpened, and his posture straightened as a new personality took over—confident, almost arrogant. He turned his head to look directly at 402, a smirk on his face. "You've got quite the friend, Doctor. Not many people would've guessed that."
Erich chuckled, greeting the boy as if he were meeting someone entirely new. "Hello there. Mind telling me who you see in the corner?"
The boy's eyes widened slightly, and he shook his head, a flicker of fear passing through his gaze. "He's... he's always there," the boy whispered, his voice trembling. "He's tall... and he has glasses. He's just standing there, watching."
"Watching who?" Erich probed carefully.
"Both of you... but mostly him." The boy's eyes darted to 402, then back to the corner, the fear in his voice growing more pronounced. "He says... he says his eyes are empty. Like... like there's nothing there."
402's expression remained neutral, but his eyes betrayed a hint of concern. He shifted slightly, but stayed quiet, letting Erich lead the conversation. Erich noticed the boy's gaze flitting between the corner and 402, his breath coming in shallow, quick bursts as if the presence he saw was growing more real by the second.
"He's not going to hurt you," Erich reassured him softly, though he noted the deep unease in the boy's eyes. "Why don't you tell me more about what you see?"
The boy hesitated, his gaze locked on the corner as if expecting the tall figure with glasses to step out into the light at any moment. "He's just standing there," the boy murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "He's not moving... just watching. But I don't like the way he looks at me."
"Does he ever speak to you?" Erich asked, maintaining the calm and steady tone he knew the boy needed.
"No... he just stares. But... it's like he's telling me things... about you... about him." The boy's voice dropped even lower, his eyes glazing over as if he were slipping into a trance. "He says... I shouldn't trust him..."
Erich exchanged a quick glance with 402, noting the tension in the boy's voice. It was clear that the hallucinations were deeply embedded in his psyche, blurring the lines between reality and his fractured mind.
"I see," Erich said quietly, keeping his tone neutral to avoid feeding into the boy's delusions. "You're safe here. No one's going to hurt you."
The boy's breathing began to slow, but his gaze remained fixated on the empty corner, his mind still teetering on the edge of the hallucination. Erich decided to shift the focus, hoping to bring the boy back to a more grounded state.
"Let's talk about something else," Erich suggested gently. "How about we try to get you some rest?"
The boy nodded slightly, though his eyes never left the corner. Erich reached into his pocket, pulling out a small bottle of medicine. "This will help you sleep," he said, offering the pills with a steady hand.
The boy took the medicine, his fingers trembling slightly as he swallowed the pills with a sip of water. Within a few minutes, his eyelids began to droop, and his grip on the blanket relaxed. The tension in the room slowly began to dissolve as the boy's breathing evened out, and he finally drifted off to sleep, the hallucinations fading with him.
Erich stood by the bed for a moment longer, watching the boy's peaceful expression, then turned to 402. "Let's go. He needs his rest."
402 nodded, his face reflecting a mix of thoughts, but he said nothing as they quietly left the room, the door closing softly behind them.