It was cold.

Heeyeon tugged her jacket closer together. The lack of heating in the building momentarily distracted her from her apprehensive thoughts.

Today was her first day on the job as one of new therapists for a closed off psychiatric hospital distanced far from the city, or any sort of human life.

It was built more than a century ago, but the government slightly modified it to fit the modern standards of a proper psychiatric hospital and not an insane asylum.

They should’ve just torn the place down and built a new one, Heeyeon bitterly thought and grimaced. Taking a glance around the corridor, she couldn’t shake off the uneasy feeling in her gut.

It wasn’t the eerie atmosphere that gave her the jitters, though. Alright, it did have some contribution. But it was more of if this job was the right choice in the first place. Despite her confidence of psychological studies and practices, her clients in the past three years of consultations weren’t as mentally corrupted as what she might see here. She dealt with PTSD, OCD, and anxiety. The patients here? Much more difficult.

The attraction towards this new job was the higher salary and a better challenge for her expertise. That’s what Heeyeon repeated as a mantra in her head as one of the securities led her down the dimly lit hallway, ignoring the tasers and sticks adorned on the officer’s waist.

What also irked her was how easy it was to get the job in the first place. She expected thorough interviews with an overbearing eye over every answer. What she didn’t expect was a 7 minute interview checking her background and credentials and a handshake to welcome her for the job. It was too sudden, she had a difficult time that night – even now – processing that she got the job just like that.

A gravelly moan echoed through the winding hallway, startling Heeyeon. She warily paced closer to the guard.

It didn’t seem right, but Heeyeon will check into that later.  

Finally stopping before a door, the guard gestured for her to enter a large office filled with 10 or so more employees, softly chattering. Heeyeon bowed her head, and entered.  

A salt and pepper haired man wearing a lab coat seated at the front with a large desk called out to her amongst the crowd, motioning her to him.

“Hello. I am Dr. Seo, president of this facility. I am your main supervisor for any questions and concerns. May I have your name, please?”

“Hello, my name is Son Heeyeon.” She bowed.

Dr. Seo flipped through folders before handing her designated assignment. “Your patient is located upstairs in 5B. Stay around and associate with your co-workers. We will begin setting up identification codes and cards.”

“Thank you.” Heeyeon scanned the room, settling to converse with a young man making a coffee in kitchen area. “Hi, I’m Son Heeyeon. I’ll be working alongside you for the next few months.”

A man with neatly trimmed brunette hair turned around and smiled at her. “Kim Jongdae. Coffee?” He lifted up his brewed mug.

“Sure.” She watched as Jongdae started making her a cup. “So how long have you been in the profession? You look incredibly young.”

He chuckled. “Well, I’ve been told by some of the others here that I still look like a college student, but I assure you, I’m 29. So I’ve had quite some time independently working here and there, but the pay sure wasn’t as stable as – um, would you like some sugars?”

“3, please. And a bit more creamer would be nice.”

“ – yeah, so the pay wasn’t as nice as I wanted it to be, until I got a letter from the institution stating how current therapists and the like were needed for, what I thought was, a pretty substantial pay!”

He leaned in a bit closer to her whilst handing off her mug of coffee. “You know, I heard that the reason why the institution was so desperate for new employees was because the patients had scared the old ones off. So badly, that even the most recognized and efficient ones refused to come back.”

Heeyeon shuddered, “I was assigned to section 5B. From what I’ve read, as the number get higher, the more frightening and dangerous the patients become.” She took a sip of her coffee, refraining from smacking her lips at the bitter taste.

Jongdae winced. “They’ve probably chucked yours with a lot of meds, so you’ll be alright,” he clucked his tongue, “I’m in 3A. we aren’t in the same ward.”

“Attention, everyone. If you would please follow me, I will direct you to the main sections of the building you may familiarize with. In the event you are lost, please punch in the code 5551 in the keypad to your closest fire alarm, and a guard will come and assist you,” Dr. Seo announced.

“Good luck,” Jondae mouthed before joining the others.

Heeyeon stood outside the door 5B-28, reviewing the information regarding her patient left by medical records and briefly skimmed the notes of the patient’s previous counselors.

Zhang Yixing. 27. Dissociative disorder. Sociopathic behavior. Release date: N/A. Warning: Prone to inflicting harm upon oneself or others in sporadic periods.

Notes by Therapist 1:

-withdrawn upon first meeting, refused to look into my eyes. Unresponsive to questions.

- began to talk after 4 meeting, claiming an alternate identity of mythical creature – prescribed as dissociative disorder

…

Notes by Therpist 7:

-spoke often of a different personality and does not acknowledge actual age

-details specifically of committed murders and lack of guilt for these events

-occasionally threatens to kill others, including myself

-delusions of vampires as his true nature upon the influence of medication, may need to increase doses

Heeyeon squinted at the scrawled last note, attached… no, attacked by violet… violent bites on my wrist. Heeyeon furrowed her eyebrows. It would have been nice if the notes included dates.

7 therapists. All of which left. Fantastic.

Taking a deep breath, she nodded towards the security guard waiting nearby. The guard peered into the small barred window in the door, before unlocking it with a key in a padlock, and a swiped identification card.

“I’ll be waiting right outside the door if you need anything and/or done with the session, ma’am.”

“Thank you.”

Slowly opening the door, she took in the off-white room with bright fluorescent lights illuminating every corner. A wooden rectangular table was displayed on the right side of the room with plastic chairs, and a bed was pushed against the front wall on the left side.

A man, hunched over the side of the bed, sat facing the wall, not acknowledging her presence.

Heeyeon closed the door, taking a brief glance through the tiny window toward the stationed guard, and carried one of the chairs next to the table over to the man, placing right in front of him. She settled herself in the seat, clicking her pen and flipping to a page on her notepad.

Yixing observed her every movement, glaring at her. The clacking of her high heels resounded loudly with every step she took, sharply deafening his eardrums in the previous silence. There was a strand of hair that escaped her tidy combed-back bun, and he wanted to rip the strand out of her head. He twiddled his fingers in his lap and wiggled his toes on the icy floorboards.

Heeyeon unwaveringly gazed back. She took note of his unruly appearance: disheveled black hair that partially shielded his eyes, restraints that bounded his wrists together, the wrinkly gray jumper. His miniscule movements seemed anxious, but his face was devoid of any emotion other than distaste.

“Good morning, Yixing. I’m your new therapist, Dr. Son,” she paused, expecting a greeting she figured she wasn’t going to get, “I’ll be visiting you three da-”

“Three days a week,” Yixing flatly interrupted, “You’ll come in here three days a week: Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. You’ll make me talk about all my problems while you ponder on how you could ‘fix’ me. You’d interrogate me for a couple months before leaving.”

“And why would I be leaving?”

“You don’t want to stick around here long enough to find out.”