The day after the event, the head doctors in the hospital were disturbed at the news that landed in the morning, as though irrational tiny spiders crawling out of your flesh. However, for some, it is not something new — while the others that witnessed the unnerving pool of blood smug the white mattress like a crime scene could not help to quiver to their nerves.
A clinical doctor was later called to check the deep wound of Patient 666. Fortunately, nothing was found serious and the bite wound was quickly disinfected and bandaged.
Dr. Park got out of his car, and as he stepped his foot onto the ground, two other psychologists came scampering to the front glass door. The depressed look on their faces speaks volumes as though they are terrified.
He gave them a weird and rather contemptuous look and approached them. Dr. Park jingles the keys in his hand before tossing them inside his pocket. His forehead wrinkled in lines as he stared at the two men, one taller and the other wearing nerdy glasses. Iris twitching, fake grins slit awkwardly. "Is... something's wrong?" He asked, calmly. Staring back at the uncomfortable trembling eyes of the brown-haired man.
They exchanges look, nagging each other by the elbow secretly as they argue who's the one to speak. Dr. Park was confused at the sudden behavior, so he waited for more for them to speak. "Min Yoongi..." At hearing his patient's name, the doctor was alarmed and immediately stood up straight, looking at the male intently.
"He... eat himself-"
"No, he bit ... himself..." Dr. Kim (Seokjin) emphasized, and the other Kim nodded, and added, "yeah, and eat..."
And before they knew it, Dr. Park had rushed inside, running with long big steps as though he humped on stepping stones in the sea of scalding lava.
As the door to the solitary cell become bigger and bigger to his sight, Dr. Park could not help to get worried, and he could hear the fast beating of his heart audibly in his ears. Imagining the gut-churning thoughts orbits his mind, and horror slowly engulfs his vision. He was not worried for no any deep reason, 'I was only worried because I am his doctor, and he was my patient. That makes him my responsibility,' he told himself, highlighting the remark against the opposite truth whispering to his ears.
He reigned at the door, breathing heavily as though he ran for a ten-kilometer race.
There sat the injured man, sidesaddle, on the small white bed, enough only for one person to curl down the hard flatted surface. His face was stoic and held no hint of emotion. His left arm was wrapped with a roller bandage, blood reflecting through the thin sheet as the bandage absorbed the ichor.
The doctor picked up the clinical stuff and put them back in his small aid kit. As he was just about to turn around to leave, he noticed the young man standing at the door, silently observing them with his captivating dark-brown eyes. He flashed a smile and approached him, he was almost half of his age, pretty young if he tells.
"I've cleaned and disinfected his wound, there's nothing really to be worried about, luckily. The bite was big. If you notice something's serious, or if he catches a fever and any symptoms of infection, just call me or better bring him to the hospital," the doctor said and Dr. Park nodded and thanked him before he left.
He looks up from the ground and brought his gaze to the pale boy, sitting still and motionless. Min Yoongi seemed to be paralyzed, as dead as the doornail as his gaze stuck dazed onto his lap. Confusion wisping around the darkroom, appearing brood and unfathomable.
The doctor's heels clicked across the concrete floor as he walked toward the boy. And Min Yoongi felt someone sit beside him. The mattress giving under the person's weight.
"Dr. Kim had already told me what happened. How's your wound?" Dr. Park asked softly, voice tender and choked with concern. "It's getting better," Min Yoongi replied quietly, a voice so small that if Dr. Park was not listening closely-is impossible to hear.
"Why did you do that? Why did you hurt yourself?" Dr. Park asked once again, a humming wave of solicitude was evident in his voice. "I ... I was hungry," the latter answered meekly once again, eyes still nailed on his lap. Just like the rose thorns pricked on his orbs, he refused to stare back at the older one.
Dr. Park's face contorted into a pucker of confusion. "You're hungry?" He repeated, making sure he did not mishear. For a normal average human, it was an odd reason for someone to eat themselves for a reason their junk bag was growling empty, specifically when it happens in a rich country. Exceptionally if they are cannibal-eating humans' flesh.
Dr. Park observed Min Yoongi vigilantly, his slightest and smallest movement. Mentally taking notes of his behavior.
Mental illness affects the brain and how people act. Depomine is tied with hallucinations and delusions. A person with Schizophrenia may hear voices that demand the brain to do a ferocious act and the person may think that the voices they are hearing are somewhat real. And the patient is subconsciously compelled to the feral action.
Dr. Park gently put his hand on top of Min Yoongi's slim ones. "Yoongi, listen to me," he speaks softly. Min Yoongi slowly lifted his head and looks up at him. His bluish purple eyes, the color of lilac, stared back at him almost so closely. Dr. Park was frozen for a minute as he examines the latter's features.
Dr. Park had never referred to any men as attractive-however, as he lays his eyes upon his patient's visual, the words seem to dry up in his mouth. Min Yoongi was mysteriously beautiful. He was gorgeous beyond the clouds. A pair of kitten eyes with an elegant shade of lavender, glistening like a magnificent flaming Amethyst; A skin as smooth and pale as a snowdrop's petal; Long lashes hitting his porcelain skin when he blinks his eyes about beauty, gloriously carved eyebrows, and a pair of florid sweet-looking lips.
Dr. Park didn't notice himself holding his breath as he studies his appearance. It was almost impossible for him to remove his gaze at the glamorous youth whose beauty represents a lovely white orchid.
"If you ever feel hungry, just tell the guard, okay? Don't hurt yourself. If you feel that you need someone to talk to, I am here. Just call me, and I'll help you. You are never alone in this. You got me?" He stated, his eyes still gripping his stare. A disappointed look appeared on Yoongi's face.
"But ... he told me not to trust you. He said that if I talk to you again ... he's going to punish me," he countered. Dr. Park was puzzled at his response. It made it more confusing with Min Yoongi's expression. He was perturbed and his look was unsettled as if someone is threatening him.
"Who?" Asked Dr. Park, cautiously.
"Him." He raised his arm and leisurely pointed at the ceiling. Dr. Park follows his finger. He gradually moved his arm, extending, and now pointed to his left. He points behind the doctor. Dr. Park felt chills run down his spine as he began to feel uneasy.
Unsure, he crescendo looks over his shoulder. And Min Yoongi slowly turns around, pointing at the corner of the wall. Dr. Park recoiled in horror. In the right corner of the wall, there stood a bulge man, almost the same height as the ceiling. It had the most horrific face. He was glaring back at him with glowing red eyes. The man seemed to point at him as he watched him grow rigid in fear.
Dr. Park was only sure about one thing in what his eyes were looking at. It is not a ghost, it is not a folk, a creepypasta, and profusely not any other regular spirits. It was a devil, holding a knot connected around the noose in Min Yoongi's throat.
____
A liquid sinew falls from the shiny chrome spout above, onto the milky white porcelain below; gurgling down the dark hole, a journey to somewhere. He lets the water burble on his palms and tickles on his flesh, and splashed it on his face, rubbing softly on his cheeks in action to waver the stain smug on his head.
Dr. Park backs off and stares at his reflection. The tired miserable eyes looked back at him. He sighed.
The unnatural thing scoop and tied in his mind to even gaze at the shimmering glass, he could not rid the unnerving figure in his vision. He imagines it standing two meters away on his left behind with its steady gaze of flaming eyes bored on his own, as though it had his soul by its control. Watching him argue with the whispering truths he forced to be a lie and slowly broke into the hip of conclusion that perhaps ... he was ill.
Neither science nor myths could define what it is. By leisure, he believes in the Biblical explanations of light over darkness; the difference between Angels and Devils, and the death afterlife. These miseries had him cleaved in the belief between the scientific and Biblical opinions-or many people referred to as fact vs fantasy. An argument that lasts for the past decades.
The water suddenly dribbles, it makes a gobbled sound before it completely stops. Dr. Park frowned. He reached the handle and turned it down- however, it refused to give. The darkness falls on him and there is nothing to see. Complete darkness seemingly sealed him in its thick and tan embrace. He could feel the waft skims lightly on the back of his neck, causing chills to run down his spine.
Dr. Park stands still, listening to the movement around him. The agonizing silence chirps through the void. He could feel eyes watching him from the dark, not only two pairs but multiple. He could feel their brooding presence lurking in the corner, imagining the worse that could happen in the next few seconds.
It was hard to see. He couldn't make out a thing. The other parts of the building gleamed with bright bulbs, except the restroom covered with the dark velvety cloak. Something a bullet he could not controvert was his phobia of the dark, hence he told himself to stay calm.
And at the same instant, as it died, the light came back in once a snap.
Dr. Park was relieved. He let out a puff of air he didn't notice he was holding and pulled his hand to turn on the faucet. It takes a couple of minutes for the very first dew to drop. It landed on his soft hand exquisitely slow-but instead of a crystal liquid, it was mad crimson blood.
The mysterious murky liquid continuously stains his white hands. Dr. Park furrowed, confused, and baffled. The time seemed to stop and there was no sound to hear, not even the movement of air but the ticking of the blood dripping from the maw. And without anticipation-blood gushed uncontrollably, breaking the cold metal and sending the pieces across the room.
The sharp flow of ichor splattered on Dr. Park's face, making him completely red wet. He used his arms to cover his face. Screams filled the restroom. It floods with unceasing blood incessantly sprouting out of the broken faucet. Walls turned red and lights began flickering on and off aggressively.
Dr. Park was filled with horror. He screams for help and hopes that someone walks in and pulls him out of this terrific nightmare. Oh, he wished it was just a nightmare. A really terrible, egregious nightmare.
The door flung open and a shadow walked in. "Sir? Are you okay?" An unfamiliar voice of a man asked. It snapped him out and turned his head in the direction of the voice. He saw a guy who looked about his age and had a worried look on his face, staring cryptically at him.
"Blood! There's blood in the faucet! It's flooding blood!" Dr. Park exclaimed vehemently, the fear shown in his voice; raspy and shaking. However, the man only stared at him unbelievably as if he were crazy. "Blood? What are you talking about? There's no blood." Then, that's when Dr. Park realized the whole situation. He leisurely looks back to the sink, seeing it just clean as he walked in. He was set with his imagination in his mind. The fear he'd been keeping, hiding in the closet of his anxieties out of all of these.
He was turning into one. The lunatic person, the people in downtown believe he is.
He cleared his throat and fixed his posture. Feeling embarrassed by the action he showed to this stranger. Now, he would think he was weird and had damage in his brain. A nasty smashed cheese sandwich. An average klutz, indeed.
"Nevermind... It's nothing," he said and walked past him. The puzzled man stared in disbelief at the door. "WAIT, DOCTOR! ARE YOU SURE YOU ARE FINE?! I THINK YOU MIGHT NEED SOME ELECTRICITY IN YOUR HEAD TO FIX IT!" The insensitive guy yelled jocosely, but Dr. Park kept walking and doesn't dare to spare a glance back.
"OR MAYBE A BLOW JOB WOULD FIX IT! WHAT DO YOU THINK?!!"