"Dr Luna, it is wonderful for you to join our staff. Your resume is impressive." The Director praised as you walked through the empty foyer, towards the elevator. "We are expecting great things from you."

You politely nodded, accepting the praise with practiced ease. You was newly transferred to the clinic at Nabi Hospital. Lucky in fact; you was lucky to be still practicing. You habitually chewed on the bottom of your lip with distress at how close you were from being stripped of your medical licence. If only ...

Enough! With a small shake of your head that you pushed the past worries aside, and the elevator doors smoothly opened.

You and the Director stepped inside and smartly turned to face the sterile foyer. A flicker of a halogen light gave farewell and the doors soundlessly closed. Your determined eyes reflected back from the shiny silver surface.

--- --- ---

Level 14 was said to be where the consultation offices were. This is where you will be working from now on.

"Each doctor on this level has their own designated room," the Director explained. He led you to one of the many doors. It was dirty mustard yellow with steel plates reinforcing its edges. Your eyes travelled to the top and noticed the mounted surveillance camera and its blinking red light. Below the camera, and a little to the right, was a plaque sticking out from the wall. It displayed the room number, 1407.

There was a camera at every second door. The next door with a camera read 1408. A few steps to the left, and in-between the doors with cameras, was another mustard yellow door. This one had no camera. The pattern repeated itself down the hallway. Camera, no camera. Camera, no camera.

"You won't be using that room often," the Director explained, noticing your gaze to the camera-less door. He opened the door to 1407 and reached in to turn on the lights. He politely stood aside, "Come, come."

You looked up at the camera, never taking your eyes from it as you stepped inside. Its red light blinked in return.

It was a cell. Forget the friendly neighbourhood doctor at his desk with soft visitor chairs. There were no bookshelves with medical tomes or models of the cardiovascular system. There was no computer or files for your use. The room lacked an operating bed, but there was a wheel trolley with medical equipment: nitrile gloves, scissors, tubes, a maker pen, scalpel, and needles.

What dominated the room was a metal square table bolted to the floor. The table was empty; you will be bringing in the relevant files and paperwork. You nodded with satisfaction. Everything was sufficient.

On one side of the table was a metal chair with the option for chains and restraints. This is where the patients will sit. On the other side was your chair, a standard wooden frame. Behind your chair, taking up most of the wall space, was a dull mirror; a one-way window.

Above the table hung an old fashion tungsten light globe from linked chains fixed to the ceiling. Your eyes tracked to the light switch next to the door. There were two, one of which operated the bright halogen lights fixed in the ceiling and that currently illuminated the room in its sterile glory. The other would control that single light bulb.

"Each doctor has their own method with their patients," the Director broke the silence. He had remained next to the door whilst you had ventured in and stood next to your chair. "I am certain you will have your own." You nodded your response. He pointed towards the suspended light globe. "Most doctors agree on the results of the use of limited light." He gave a significant pause, "It is quite effective."

He then turned off the main lights and the room fell into pitch darkness. Your ears rang from the loss of your sight and the click of the turning light switch seemed suddenly loud. A dull yellow light glowed from the suspended light globe above the table. The corners of the room remained as black shadows. The edge of the circle of light that included you, but kept the Director out of sight, was hazy and sinister.

A heavy feeling of dread fell upon your shoulders and you instinctively folded into yourself. Your neck dropped a little and your shoulders slouched forward. You moved your feet together and gripped onto the back of your chair. It felt like a great eye was above the single light bulb. It saw everything and was dispassionately judging you. You glanced back at the one-way window and saw the ghost of your reflection, pale white. It was alien and wrong. Unprofessional.

You straightened back up and shook your head slightly, regaining your sense of pride. You belonged to the other side now. You are the one in control, in power. Years of training took over your unsettled nerves. With a confident step towards the other side of the table and you looked down upon the patient's chair. Dark red rust pooled into the edges of the seat.

The main lights were switched back on and the oppressive feeling of being watched rapidly dissipated. The door opened again and the Director motioned you out of the room. "Let's move on and quickly finish your induction."

You moved away from the silence of the table and chairs. You paused at the door, a hand on the light switch. Room 1407 fell back into darkness.

A brush of air passed by, lifting loose strands of your hair.

... Help me.