The Madness of Sujay
The air inside Sujay Psychiatry Hospital was heavy, oppressive. It wrapped around the group like a suffocating shroud, pulling them deeper into its sinister grip. The hallways were eerily clean, the floors gleaming under harsh fluorescent lights, but the pristine appearance only made the dread more palpable.
Lara stirred first, blinking groggily as her vision adjusted to the bright light. The soft hum of machinery and faint murmur of voices drifted through the air. Around her, the rest of the group lay on neatly made hospital beds, their faces pale and drawn, as though they'd been asleep for days.
She sat up slowly, her head pounding. The room was spacious, painted a soothing pale blue, but there was nothing calming about it. The sterile smell of antiseptic mixed with a faint, coppery tang she couldn't place.
"Elias?" Lara called softly, her voice hoarse.
Elias stirred next, his hand twitching before he groaned and sat up. His usually sharp gray eyes were dulled, his movements sluggish. "Lara?" he muttered, his voice thick with confusion.
Margot was the next to wake, her sharp eyes immediately scanning the room. "Where the hell are we?" she snapped, swinging her legs off the bed.
Before anyone could answer, the sound of footsteps echoed outside the room—many footsteps, accompanied by low murmurs, giggles, and the occasional scream.
Lara turned toward the door just as it opened, and what she saw made her stomach lurch.
The hallway was packed with people—other patients—shuffling aimlessly in mismatched hospital gowns. Some of them muttered to themselves, their words nonsensical, while others stared blankly at the walls, their expressions vacant.
One man crouched in a corner, rocking back and forth while whispering a string of numbers under his breath. A woman nearby laughed hysterically, her laughter breaking into choked sobs as she clawed at her own face.
The most disturbing were the ones who moved with eerie precision, their eyes glassy and unblinking as they followed unseen commands.
"What the hell…" Jack whispered, his voice trailing off as he stared in disbelief.
"This place is alive," Roman muttered, his voice trembling. "It's watching us."
A nurse appeared in the doorway, her smile wide and unnatural. "The doctor is ready to see you now," she said sweetly.
Elias instinctively reached for Lara, pulling her close as the group reluctantly followed the nurse into the hallway.
The walk to the doctor's office was surreal. Patients wandered aimlessly, their movements erratic and unsettling. One man lunged at them suddenly, his face twisted in rage. Before anyone could react, a nurse appeared seemingly out of nowhere, grabbing him by the shoulders and whispering something in his ear. The man immediately calmed, his body going limp as he was led away.
"What the hell is this place?" Margot hissed, her voice low.
Lyn clutched Caleb's arm, her face pale. "They're not people anymore," she whispered. "They're puppets."
The group was ushered into a large, pristine office. The walls were lined with shelves full of medical books, and a massive desk sat at the center of the room, its surface meticulously organized.
The doctor entered moments later, his appearance immaculate. He wore a white coat that gleamed under the fluorescent lights, and his smile was warm and welcoming, though his eyes held a sharp, calculating gleam.
"Welcome," he said, his voice smooth and professional. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you all."
"Let us go," Elias growled, stepping forward.
The doctor chuckled softly. "I'm afraid I can't do that. You've entered my domain, and now you're my patients."
"We're not your patients," Margot snapped. "We're survivors, and we're leaving."
The doctor's smile widened. "Ah, but you're mistaken. You've always been my patients. You just didn't know it."
The group tensed as the doctor retrieved a clipboard from his desk, flipping through its pages with deliberate care.
"Let's see…" he murmured. "Ah, Lara."
Lara stiffened as his gaze settled on her.
"You've been diagnosed with schizophrenia," the doctor announced, his tone matter-of-fact.
"What?" Lara gasped.
"You're lying!" Margot shouted, stepping forward.
The doctor's eyes flicked to Margot, his smile unfaltering. "Margot, you've been diagnosed with Bipolar I. Quite severe, I might add."
"You're insane," Margot snapped. "Let us go!"
The door opened, and several nurses entered, their movements eerily synchronized.
"Take them to the wards," the doctor instructed.
The nurses descended upon Margot first, injecting her with a syringe before dragging her out of the room despite her furious struggles.
"Margot!" Jack shouted, but two nurses grabbed him next.
"Jack, you've been diagnosed with severe PTSD," the doctor declared. "You'll receive the care you need."
When the doctor turned to Roman, his smile widened.
"Ah, Roman," he said, his tone almost affectionate. "Welcome back."
Roman froze, his face pale.
"I've been waiting for you," the doctor continued, his eyes gleaming. "And you walked right into my trap. How delightful."
"No!" Roman screamed, backing into the corner. "You don't understand! I tried to warn them! I told them this was a bad idea!"
The doctor chuckled, his amusement almost genuine. "And yet, here you are. Take him to the ward."
Roman fought wildly as the nurses dragged him away, his screams echoing down the hallway.
Caleb and Lyn were the last to remain, their faces pale and their bodies trembling.
The doctor turned to them, his smile softening slightly. "You two… You'll remain free. For now."
Lyn's voice trembled as she stepped forward. "Who are you?"
The doctor ignored her question, his smile unwavering. "I'm giving you a chance. Save your friends, if you can. But if you fail…" He leaned closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Prepare for your own examination."
The nurses guided Caleb and Lyn out of the office and into the hallway. The door slammed shut behind them, leaving the two standing in the chaos of the hospital, their hearts pounding.
As they walked through the hall, the madness seemed to intensify. Patients screamed and wailed, their cries echoing like a symphony of despair. Nurses moved with chilling precision, their smiles never faltering.
Lyn clutched Caleb's arm, her voice trembling. "We have to get them out of here."
Caleb nodded, his jaw tight. "But how?"
Lyn didn't answer. She didn't have to. The fear in her eyes said it all.
The hospital seemed alive, its walls pulsing faintly as if mocking their every step.
And somewhere in the distance, the doctor's laughter echoed, cold and hollow.
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