“Why did I choose this job?” Vanessa wondered. She never wanted to work with people, especially not in mental hospitals. She had always preferred remote work, but for now, this job would do. She handled both day and night shifts because no one else wanted to work with these individuals. She understood why. But who was she to judge? Besides, it was the only way to reduce her sentence. All she needed to do was pass out medication and keep an eye on them—how hard could that be?
She did her daily rounds, checking on patients, distributing their meds, and ensuring they were fed. It wasn’t the hardest job, and interacting with most of them was actually enjoyable. Her heart ached for the children here. But there was one boy who never spoke to anyone and was always alone.
He intrigued her deeply. Out of all the patients, he was the most well-groomed. His black hair, nearly shoulder-length, was always neatly combed. He kept his room tidy and followed a consistent daily schedule. He was her favorite, though she couldn’t pinpoint why; he made her job easier. Despite her attempts to strike up a conversation, he remained uninterested. She had always wondered about his scars, but asking would be too invasive. So, she just observed him from afar.
He generally stayed to himself throughout the day. He had a little diary, a gift from his foster parents on his 14th birthday. Initially, he seemed uninterested, but he’d been consistently writing in it for the three years she had worked here. He appeared to be a nice kid, but also very lonely. When he was around the other kids, he often ignored them, and he even ignored his own siblings when they visited. She had never met someone so self-isolated. But who was she to judge? She just worked here.
The next day, she followed her usual schedule. She did her rounds, gave out meds, talked to the patients, and ensured they had eaten their meals. She stopped in front of his room, the last one. She decided to try talking to him. She wasn’t sure why she felt nervous; he was only 17. What could a kid do to her? He seemed harmless.
She walked into his room, slowly closing the door behind her.
“Vincent?” she called out.
He was silent for a moment, then answered, “I’m awake.” He slowly sat up in bed.
“Here, your medication.”
“…Thank you.”
They stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Finally, she reluctantly opened her mouth, “So…tell me more about you. I don’t know you well compared to everyone else. Tell me something interesting.”
“I’m 17. I have two sisters and one little brother.”
She was surprised he didn’t ignore her question. “That’s awesome! What about where you’re from? Any friends?”
He hesitated, and she could tell he didn’t want to answer. She didn’t want to force him. “You don’t have to share if you don’t want to. It’s totally up to you.”
“No, it’s fine. I’m from Serbia. I don’t really have any friends; I’d rather be alone.”
She looked at him, puzzled. “But why? There are so many kids here around your age. I’m sure they’d love to be your friend.”
He paused. “I know, I just… don’t open up to people much. They bully me relentlessly. They’re mostly all snobby, obnoxious kids. I despise them all. Dirty rugrats. If I could, I’d kill them all.”
Her eyes widened. “Okay, buddy, I think you should take your nap now.”
He smiled at her. “Thank you, Vanessa, for talking to me. Maybe I do need to socialize every now and then.”
She smiled back. “Of course! I’ll always be here if you need someone to talk to.”
She was shocked she even got through that conversation. He had always shut out everyone. Nobody else working in this facility had ever gotten him to talk. Not even a word. But after talking to him, he seemed sweeter than she thought. A sweet kid who just needed friends and more people to socialize with. Maybe she could convince him to come eat in the dining hall. It’d be a good chance for him to make new friends. Who knows, maybe he’d meet someone he could depend on forever.
She entered her room extra late that night, having spent time tucking in the younger kids and reading them stories. As she stepped in, she heard something creak. Fear gripped her. Should she scream? Investigate? She paused. Maybe she was imagining it all; she hadn’t slept for over two days. Her floorboards creaked every now and then, too. She figured she was just overreacting from lack of sleep.
Deciding to ignore it, she turned off the light and fell asleep.
The door creaked open, and a hooded figure walked in.
The figure caressed Vanessa, breathing heavily. It whispered slowly, “Vanessa, my love. Soon we can be together. Soon.” It moved away from her resting place, closing the door gently behind it.
Waking up the next morning, Vanessa got ready and followed her usual routine, but this time she had another conversation with Vincent. She opened his door and walked in.
“Vincent! How are you?”
The boy’s eyes immediately fixated on her. “I’m okay now that you’re here.”
“How about today you come eat in the dining hall? You don’t need to worry. I promise the other kids won’t laugh at you. Plus, maybe you could make a new friend or two?”
He smiled slightly. “I don’t need any other friends.” He slowly looked up at her with a big smile. “I have you, don’t I?”
Vanessa was startled. His smile was eerie, a kind of smile she had never seen from a child. “Of course…” she said shakily. “I’ll always be your friend.”
Vincent paused, his eyes darting around the room before fixating on Vanessa again. “Vanessa, I have a question.”
“What’s up, Vincent?”
“Do you have a boyfriend?”
Her face turned red, and she paused, answering shakily. “I—I… No, no, I don’t. Why are you asking?”
He smiled again, even wider this time. “No reason, I was just wondering. I’ll join you in the hall soon.”
She smiled at him slightly. “Of course, can’t wait to see you, Vinnie.”
The dining hall was loud, children screaming everywhere. Vincent was annoyed, sitting next to the loudest kid of all. The kid started talking to him.
“Vincent! Vincent! Come play with us today.”
“No, leave me alone.”
“Vincent, Vincenttt. You are a bad boy. Are you scared that I’ll beat you? That I’ll beat you just like your real dad? I’ll beat you so bad you’ll get PTSD again.”
Vincent snapped. He lunged on top of the boy, stabbing him repeatedly with a fork. The other children screamed and ran to find a supervisor. Two security guards showed up, but Vincent’s grip was too strong. He kept stabbing and stabbing.
Vanessa and Vincent stared at each other blankly, neither saying a word.
“What were you thinking? Why did you think that was a good idea? Huh? Tell me! What was your thought process during that?”
The boy didn’t reply. He slowly started to tear up.
“I didn’t mean to. I lost control. I’m sorry, Vanessa. I didn’t mean to hurt him. I’m sorry.”
“Sorry won’t fix anything, Vincent. You completely massacred his face!”
“I’m sorry. Please don’t be mad. I don’t want you to hate me.”
“I… I don’t hate you. I’m just… disappointed.”
Vanessa walked out of the room, leaving Vincent all alone. He stopped crying and had a mad expression on his face.
“If you want to be that way, we can both play like that. Just watch.”
Vanessa returned to her room, heart heavy with the events of the day. She sat down on her bed, her mind racing. What if Vincent’s words were more than just anger? She couldn’t ignore the eerie feeling he gave her earlier, but she also couldn’t shake the empathy she felt for him. She decided to report the incident to her supervisor, but she was careful to downplay her personal involvement, fearing it might complicate her situation.
The following day, she tried to focus on her work, but Vincent’s expression haunted her. She kept her interactions with him brief, maintaining a professional distance. She knew she had to be cautious, but part of her still wanted to help him.
Days passed, and the atmosphere in the facility grew tense. Vincent was kept under closer watch, but his behavior was unpredictable. He refused to participate in group activities and remained isolated, his eyes often following Vanessa with an unsettling intensity.
One evening, after finishing her rounds, Vanessa found a note slipped under her door. It was from Vincent.
“Vanessa,
I’m sorry for what happened. I need to talk to you. Please come to my room tonight.
-Vincent”
She hesitated, her instincts warning her against going. But something in the note, a hint of desperation, tugged at her. She decided to inform a colleague about the note and ask them to check on her if she didn’t return within fifteen minutes.
She approached Vincent’s room cautiously. Taking a deep breath, she knocked and entered. Vincent was sitting on his bed, his diary open beside him.
“Vanessa, thank you for coming,” he said softly.
She nodded, keeping her distance. “What did you want to talk about, Vincent?”
“I’ve been thinking a lot. About what I did, about you, about everything.” His voice was calm, too calm. “I know you want to help me. And I want to get better, I really do. But sometimes, I feel like there’s no way out.”
“There’s always a way, Vincent. You just have to take the first step and let people help you.”
He looked at her with a mixture of hope and despair. “I’m scared, Vanessa. Scared of what I might do next.”
“We’re here to support you, Vincent. You’re not alone in this.”
He nodded, but she could see the conflict in his eyes. “Promise me something, Vanessa. If I ever do something like that again, promise me you’ll stop me. No matter what.”
She felt a chill run down her spine. “I promise, Vincent. But let’s focus on getting you the help you need so it never comes to that.”
As she left his room, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was terribly wrong. She vowed to keep a closer eye on Vincent and to do everything in her power to prevent another incident.
But in the back of her mind, she knew that Vincent’s struggle was far from over, and the real challenge was just beginning.
As Vanessa left Vincent’s room that night, a sense of unease settled over her. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Vincent’s demeanor had shifted, his words carrying an unsettling weight. That evening, as she lay in bed trying to sleep, she heard faint whispers echoing through the halls. Initially dismissing them as her imagination, she soon realized they were coming from outside her door.
The whispers grew louder, accompanied by soft footsteps that stopped right outside her room. Vanessa’s heart pounded in her chest as she lay frozen, the darkness thick around her. Suddenly, the door creaked open slowly, revealing a shadowy figure standing in the doorway. It was Vincent, his eyes gleaming with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.
“Vincent, what are you doing here?” Vanessa managed to whisper, her voice trembling.
He stepped closer, his movements deliberate and unsettling. “I need to show you something, Vanessa. Something important.”
Fear gripped Vanessa as she backed away, her mind racing with a thousand thoughts. She knew she should call for help, but fear held her tongue. Vincent moved closer, his expression now unreadable.
“Please, Vanessa,” he urged softly, his voice almost pleading.
Vanessa hesitated for a moment, then steeled herself and screamed for help. Within moments, the security personnel arrived, pulling Vincent away from her. His eyes burned with a mixture of anger and anguish as he was restrained and led away.
Vanessa spent the rest of the night in shock, her mind replaying the events over and over. She couldn’t understand what had happened to Vincent, what had driven him to such desperate measures. The next morning, she was called into a meeting with the facility’s administration, where they informed her that Vincent had been transferred to a more secure unit for evaluation and treatment.
Relieved yet haunted by the ordeal, Vanessa continued her work with a newfound caution. She couldn’t shake the feeling that Vincent’s story was far from over, and that the darkness that lurked within him was deeper than anyone had imagined. As she made her rounds that day, passing by Vincent’s now empty room, she couldn’t help but wonder if she had missed something crucial, something that could have prevented the horror that had unfolded.
But amidst the fear and uncertainty, one thing was clear to Vanessa: the challenges of her job had taken on a new dimension, one where the line between compassion and caution blurred in the face of unimaginable darkness.
Several weeks passed since Vincent was transferred to the more secure unit for evaluation and treatment. Vanessa tried to resume her routine, but the memory of Vincent’s unsettling presence lingered like a shadow. She found herself checking and double-checking locks, jumping at every unexpected noise in the otherwise quiet corridors of the facility.
One morning, as Vanessa prepared for her shift, she received a call from the administration. They informed her that Vincent was being transferred back to their unit after a thorough re-evaluation. Despite her reservations, Vanessa knew she had a job to do, and part of that job was to provide care and support to all patients, including Vincent.
When Vincent arrived later that day, Vanessa felt a mix of apprehension and empathy. She observed him closely during their interactions, looking for any signs of the darkness that had surfaced before. Vincent appeared subdued, almost resigned, as if the time apart had drained him of whatever energy he had left.
“Hey, Vincent,” Vanessa greeted him cautiously as he entered his room.
He glanced up at her briefly before turning away. “Hello, Vanessa.”
“How are you feeling?” she asked softly, trying to gauge his mood.
Vincent shrugged, his expression guarded. “I’m fine.”
Vanessa nodded, deciding not to press further. She knew from experience that pushing Vincent could trigger unpredictable reactions. Instead, she focused on ensuring he settled back into his routine and received the support he needed.
Over the following days, Vanessa noticed a subtle change in Vincent. He seemed more withdrawn than before, less responsive to attempts at conversation or encouragement. Despite her best efforts to engage him in activities with other patients, Vincent preferred to remain alone in his room, immersed in his thoughts.
One evening, Vanessa received a note slipped under her door. It was from Vincent.
“Vanessa,
I need to talk to you. Please come to my room tonight. It’s important.
-Vincent”
Vanessa hesitated, her mind racing with memories of their previous encounter. She knew she should be cautious, but she also couldn’t ignore the plea in Vincent’s words. After informing a colleague and setting a time limit, Vanessa gathered her courage and knocked on Vincent’s door.
“Vincent? It’s Vanessa. Can I come in?”
There was a moment of silence before Vincent opened the door slowly, his demeanor unusually calm. Vanessa entered cautiously, taking in the dimly lit room and Vincent’s tense posture.
“What did you want to talk about, Vincent?” she asked gently, keeping a safe distance.
Vincent hesitated, his gaze fixed on the floor. “I… I don’t know where to start. Everything feels… overwhelming.”
Vanessa nodded sympathetically, sensing the weight of Vincent’s words. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now. Take your time.”
Vincent looked up at her, his eyes searching hers for understanding. “I don’t know if I can do this anymore, Vanessa. Being here… it’s like being trapped in a nightmare.”
Vanessa listened quietly, her heart going out to him despite the fear gnawing at the edges of her mind. “You’re not alone, Vincent. We’re here to help you.”
Vincent shook his head slowly, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “You don’t understand. No one does.”
“I want to understand,” Vanessa insisted gently. “Tell me what you’re feeling.”
Vincent hesitated again, his hands clenched into fists. “I feel… rage. Anger that I can’t control. It’s like a fire burning inside me, consuming everything.”
Vanessa felt a chill run down her spine, but she maintained her composure. “You’re stronger than that, Vincent. We can find ways to help you manage your feelings.”
Vincent’s expression darkened, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You don’t know what I’m capable of.”
“Then show me,” Vanessa urged softly, her voice steady despite the rising tension. “Show me who you really are.”
Vincent stared at her for a long moment, his eyes filled with turmoil. Slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper. He handed it to Vanessa without a word.
Vanessa unfolded the paper and read the words written in Vincent’s neat handwriting:
“I can’t stop thinking about it. The darkness inside me grows stronger every day. I fear what I might do next.”
Vanessa’s heart sank as she read Vincent’s confession. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with compassion.
Vincent nods slowly, tears welling up in his eyes. “I’m scared, Vanessa. Scared of myself.”
Vanessa reached out and placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You don’t have to face this alone. We’ll get through this together.”
Vincent looked at her gratefully, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. In that moment, Vanessa knew that despite the darkness that surrounded them, there was still a chance for Vincent to find his way back to the light.
As Vanessa continued to interact cautiously with Vincent over the following days, she noticed a growing tension in his demeanor. He became increasingly withdrawn, refusing meals and ignoring attempts at conversation. Vanessa felt a deep sense of unease, fearing that Vincent’s inner turmoil was spiraling out of control once more.
One evening, Vanessa was called to the security office urgently. There had been an incident in Vincent’s wing of the facility. As she hurried down the corridors, dread clutched at her heart. She arrived to a scene of chaos: staff members were gathered in shock, while security personnel were restraining a visibly agitated Vincent.
“What happened?” Vanessa asked breathlessly, her eyes darting between Vincent and the distressed staff.
“He attacked another patient,” one of the security guards explained grimly. “He seemed… possessed.”
Vanessa’s mind raced as she tried to process the implications. Vincent had shown flashes of anger before, but this level of violence was beyond anything she had imagined. She approached cautiously, her voice calm despite the fear gnawing at her insides.
“Vincent, what happened?” she asked, hoping to glean some understanding from him.
Vincent’s eyes bore into hers with an intensity that sent a chill down her spine. “They wouldn’t leave me alone,” he muttered darkly. “I had to stop them.”
Vanessa took a step back, the gravity of the situation sinking in. She knew Vincent needed help, but she also feared for the safety of everyone in the facility. She had to tread carefully, balancing compassion with the need for security.
Over the next few days, tensions escalated further. Vincent’s outbursts became more frequent and unpredictable. He refused medication and therapy sessions, claiming they were useless. Vanessa felt helpless as she watched Vincent slip further into darkness, his once-dormant rage now a constant presence.
One night, Vanessa was doing her rounds when she heard screams echoing through the corridors. She followed the sound to Vincent’s wing, heart pounding with dread. As she rounded the corner, she came face to face with a scene of horror: Vincent stood over a fallen staff member, bloodied knife in hand.
“Vincent, stop!” Vanessa shouted, her voice trembling with fear and desperation.
Vincent turned to her slowly, his eyes vacant yet filled with a chilling resolve. “It’s too late, Vanessa. I can’t stop it now.”
Vanessa’s breath caught in her throat as she realized the depth of Vincent’s descent into darkness. She knew she had to act quickly to prevent further tragedy. Summoning all her courage, she lunged forward, attempting to disarm Vincent. Their struggle was brief but intense, ending with Vincent overpowering her and escaping down the corridor.
Vanessa stumbled to her feet, her mind racing with a singular thought: she had to stop Vincent before he hurt anyone else. She alerted security and joined the search, her heart heavy with guilt and determination. As she raced through the facility, she prayed that they would find Vincent before it was too late.
Hours passed with no sign of Vincent. Vanessa’s hope dwindled as the reality of the situation sank in. She had failed to protect those under her care, and now Vincent was out there, consumed by his inner demons.
Just as Vanessa began to lose hope, a commotion erupted nearby. Security personnel apprehended Vincent in a remote corner of the facility. He offered no resistance, his eyes vacant and distant. Vanessa approached cautiously, her emotions a turbulent mix of relief and sorrow.
“Vincent, why?” she asked softly, her voice cracking with emotion.
Vincent looked at her blankly, his expression devoid of remorse or understanding. “I had to do it,” he murmured cryptically. “They wouldn’t leave me alone.”
Vanessa felt a wave of despair wash over her. Vincent was lost to the darkness, a victim of his own inner turmoil. As he was led away by security, she couldn’t help but wonder if there had been a way to save him, to prevent the tragedy that had unfolded.
In the aftermath of the incident, Vanessa struggled to come to terms with what had happened. The facility implemented stricter security measures, and Vincent was transferred to a high-security psychiatric hospital. Vanessa continued her work, haunted by the memory of Vincent’s vacant eyes and the lives lost in his rampage.
As Vincent sat in his cell, staring at the sterile walls of the high-security psychiatric hospital, a plan began to form in his mind. He had spent months observing the routines of the staff and memorizing the security protocols. He knew that breaking out would be risky, but he was desperate to escape the confines that held him.
Late one night, when the guards were changing shifts and the facility seemed to be at its quietest, Vincent saw his opportunity. With careful precision, he picked the lock of his cell using a makeshift tool he had fashioned from a discarded piece of metal. Moving silently through the corridors, he avoided surveillance cameras and bypassed security checkpoints, relying on his knowledge of the facility’s layout.
Finally, Vincent reached the perimeter fence. He scaled it with practiced ease, adrenaline coursing through his veins as he dropped to the ground on the other side. Freedom was within his grasp, but his thoughts kept returning to Vanessa. She had been the only one who had shown him kindness, who had tried to understand the darkness within him.
Vincent knew he couldn’t leave without seeing Vanessa one last time. He made his way to her apartment, moving stealthily through the shadows of the facility streets. When he arrived, he found her sitting alone in her living room, lost in thought.
“Vanessa,” Vincent whispered softly, stepping out of the darkness.
Vanessa jumped in surprise, her eyes widening with shock and fear as she recognized Vincent standing before her. She had heard about his escape on the news, but she never imagined he would come looking for her.
“Vincent, what are you doing here?” Vanessa asked, her voice trembling with a mixture of concern and apprehension.
Vincent took a step closer, his expression earnest yet tinged with desperation. “I had to see you, Vanessa. I had to tell you that I’m not who they think I am. I’m not a monster.”
Vanessa hesitated, torn between sympathy for Vincent and fear of the danger he represented. She could see the turmoil in his eyes, the plea for understanding. Despite everything that had happened, a part of her still believed that Vincent was capable of change.
“Vincent, you need to go back,” Vanessa urged gently, her heart aching with conflict. “They’ll be looking for you. It’s not safe for you here.”
Vincent shook his head vehemently, his hands trembling at his sides. “I can’t go back, Vanessa. I won’t survive in there. Please, you have to believe me. I need your help.”
Vanessa’s mind raced as she considered her options. She knew harboring a fugitive was illegal and could jeopardize everything she had worked for. Yet, as she looked into Vincent’s eyes, she saw the desperation of someone who had lost everything.
“Vincent, listen to me,” Vanessa said firmly, her voice steady despite the turmoil within. “I can’t help you like this. But I promise you, I’ll find a way to get you the help you need. You don’t have to face this alone.”
Vincent’s shoulders sagged with defeat, but he nodded slowly, a glimmer of hope flickering in his eyes. “Thank you, Vanessa. Thank you for believing in me.”
Vanessa smiles back at him. “Of course, Vincent. I care for you a lot, and I—”
Her words are abruptly cut off as blood begins to spill from her stomach. Vincent has stabbed her. But why? She had always supported him. What had she done to deserve this?
Slowly falling to the ground, she struggles to speak, barely managing to whisper, “W-Why?”
Vincent smiles coldly. “I loved you, Vanessa. But you don’t want to join me. I’ve killed everyone in this hospital, and I can’t risk you calling the police on me.”
He steps back, raises his knife, and then brings it down on her head.
“Goodnight, Vanessa.”