There were two prescriptions in the trash, each signed by a different doctor. He couldn't make out what the medication was so he went to look for it. While looking, he found a piece of old bloody bondage hidden under the mattress.

he looked at his wrists and arms and there's no signs of scaring. this guy doesn't seem to have been self harming so where could the blood have come from? he remembered that he was getting side tracked, he was originally looking for the meds. he looked on the cabinets, the drawers, the closet and under each article of furniture.

This meant he needed to investigate this bastard like the police would a drug dealer. which worked out well he found 5 bottles of pills within the vents, 1 small bottle and a few tins inside the bathroom mirror's frame and a couple bottles in the plant pots.

He assumed he could find a thing or two inside the toilet's water tank but he was still too nauseous from his "breakfast" to do something that disgusting and it was too high. Which reminded him that this place is rather vintage. heather must've changed the modern setting for an older one. there is no sign of plastic, dark wood is the primary material for most furniture, the labels on the tins seems to be printed and there are few details along with the medicine but the medicine seemed to be mass produced and there was electricity even if he couldn't presume the size of the electric grid since he's clearly rich and could be one of the first to be introduced to electricity, this must be set in the early 20th or late 19th century.

He looked at the medicine and picked a pill from the one that seemed to be the newest he put it in his mouth and found the same bitterness found in the coffee from earlier. He assumed the biscuit's saltiness was also from medicine. Usually it's people with mental illness that avoid medicine and who could blame him? medical practice in psychology was so bad back then... well now... that he's surprised that such a rebellious case didn't get lobotomized.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

but he's jumping to conclusions, it could be that the guy had a debilitating illness and was simply suicidal, so he refused food and medicine because of that. Either way he hoped it was something he could find a solution to since he needed to deal with his health before he could establish himself as an important character. He went back to the room and found that the breakfast was gone.

A servant probably took it, probably not molly who learned to knock. All that research gave him a headache so he decided to sleep it off but his nap didn't last long and he woke up to a man sitting by his bed side.

"Scott, why can't you comply with your treatment?" the man spoke, his voice rough and , his messy hair was graying, his eyes were barely opened,his skin pale and clothes wrinkled. The look of a man who's been striped of the ability to stand on his own two feet. that makes two of them. though one is sickly as a president the other as a consequence. "Your mother weeps day and night for your sake, can't you do this not for your sake or mine but for hers?"

"I wonder what trouble she's weeping for?" He snickered, his headache getting worse and worse, he supposed it was a symptom. "Is it really because I'm refusing to dump what you call 'medicine' down my throat or is it because my own father is poisoning my food and drink causing me to rot away as i starve in those few square meters he allocated to be my grave?"

"You know that's not true." Mr. Willows said, heartbroken. "I'm trying to save your life!"

"And what a life it is." Scott said calmly. "You've dragged me to so many doctors that I can put them on a map and every single one offered what would prolong my misery but never cure it."

"Am I supposed give up my only heir to disease?" Oh, so It's heir he care's about, not his son!

"You are trying to watch him die slower than previously thought." Scott responded. "But I assure, no matter how many years those pills add to my resume they wont be more than what you have left."

Mr. Willows turns his head to the side unable to counter this point. George was happy that this worked he didn't know how much generic 'I'm not taking my meds' dialog he could spit out. He needed to take control, he won't get his way if his father isn't satisfied with him.

"Father." Scott reached for Mr. willows and used the hem of his shirt to wipe the sweat from the man's forehead. "I will try to continue with the treatment, but I have one condition."

"Speak."

"I'll only continue with the treatment if I have full control over it." He declared.