The morning light streamed through the clear window, illuminating the room. A blond-haired man stood at the window, bathed in that light. His white, serene robe stood out greatly from the usual routine of this city.

Thanks to the flowers hanging by the wall or the lack of factories outside, the air here seemed unheard ofly clean, as if the forest itself breathed here.

The doctor exhaled heavily as he looked through the patient's file. The previous doctor's note boded poorly.

“Possible attacks of uncontrollable aggression, verbal aggression can be replaced by physical aggression if the trigger for the irritation (aggression) is in the patient's perceptual zone.

UPD.1 In one session, using metaphorical associative maps, it was revealed that aggression can arise from memories.

UPD.2 In subsequent sessions, the same associative map was not met with an aggressive response. It is possible that self-reflection is triggering the attacks.

(Dr. Isis Conclusions. 33.04.1224/1223.5)

(Dr. Wall removed from patient observation per O.P.1.1. 35.04.1225/1224.5)

(Dr. ▉▉▉▉ assigned to patient. 1.05.1225/1224.5)”

Closing the folder, the Doctor returned to his desk, tidying it up before the next patient appointment. Finished cleaning up and filing the documents into drawers, the Doctor pulled a flavoring wrapped in a sheet from his pocket and crumbled it with his hands, burning it along with the sheet. Within a couple of seconds the flavoring burned away without a trace, dissipating into the room.

______________

Ruining the peace of the room, Leeman walked in. He couldn't help but sigh, amazed at the cleanliness and order of the place he had discovered. As he looked around the room, the doctor examined him.

And for a moment their eyes met.

Liman didn't like the doctor's analyzing gaze, and he just had to put up with it. At the moment, he badly needed the medication the doctor was prescribing.

- Have a seat, Leeman. - said the doctor in a voice as clean as his white coat.

Liman sat down on the couch that stood parallel to the doctor's desk. This couch had the most light falling on it, delivering much needed warmth to relax the body. It was the headache from his recent bump on the bed that prevented him from fully relaxing.

(Where is the light coming from? Isn't the sun on a different axis of the sky right now?)

- How are you feeling? - The doctor asked, interrupting Leeman's thoughts.

- I've been better. It's all right, if you're not too picky. I've got arms and legs, that's lucky for a production worker.

- Do you often pick on yourself?

- I don't, it's just a figure of speech.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

- I see. - The doctor made a mark in his draft.

- “The worms haven't been bothering you anymore?

The doctor shattered the calm atmosphere with his voice. Leeman turned his head to the doctor and looked at him a second time.

- Which ones are you referring to exactly? Last month a couple of worms decided the entryway was the best place to get drunk. Last week, I was robbed by a particularly nimble worm. The day before that, a couple of worms spilled paint on my--

- I mean those worms in your brain you were complaining about six months ago. - interrupted the doctor.

- Complained and complained. I haven't slept for a long time, I dreamt a lot of delusions, or are we going to talk about every dream I have? Yesterday I dreamt of a burnt knight on the lagoon, and we're going to talk about him? - Leeman was lying, he had never dreamt anything in all his twenty-three years of life.

- If you describe the burnt knight in detail for three months, we'll talk about him. You know exactly what I mean, don't get off the subject.

- No, they didn't, the pills worked, and I need a couple more packs.

- You're getting off the subject again. Run a couple of tests and I'll prescribe the pills.

Leeman didn't answer the doctor, and he took the silence as consent, taking the test devices out of the drawer. As he laid out the instruments, Leeman noticed a circular scar on his left palm.

The doctor took two vials of colorless water and placed them on the edge of the table.

- What color is the water in these vessels?

- The right one is black and the left one is colorless.

The doctor dropped green dye into the left vessel, which immediately colored the water.

- And now?

- Same colors.

(This doctor is weird too, why pour water into water?)

After removing the vessels, the doctor gave Liman photorealistic drawings.

- Describe how these drawings make you feel.

The first of the drawings showed water, the depth of the infinite ocean, the heaviness of the pressure. At the top a few meters away was freedom. One only had to swim through and breathe in salvation and life.

But the drawing didn't show it. Every drop of water that entered weighed the body down, lowering it into the abyss. Milliliters of liquid filling the lungs. A rapid pulse and cardiac arrest.

The worries that had become so insignificant before the imminent end. They dissolved without a trace at the first sip of water.

A mind that no longer felt its own self.

And in the end, that feeling of serenity before death.

- Freedom.

Without waiting for a reaction, Liman continued to describe the pictures.

A girl in a sundress walking through the woods on a quiet evening.

Her body odor wafting through the forest. Weeks of waiting and anticipation. The victim, unaware of the hunter at the crown of the tree.

What expression will she show when she sees him? What will happen after the claws tear through her body? Tearing her mouth open with his maw, staring into her eyes a centimeter away. What would be in them?

The hunter's claws pressed into the crown of the tree with excitement.

- Hunger.

The man, smiling, clutched his successful product, an air purification filter.

But why is it always him? How am I any worse? Again he will be talked about, will be, leaving me in the shadows. I've been working too, but why can't anyone see me? If it weren't for me, what could he have done?!

His disdainful face looking at me will burn in the furnace. And I'll breathe in his ashes, laughing. I just have to wait.

- Envy.

A drawing of a street that looks like the street of the world. The very sound that now settles in my ears.

- The scraping.

Taking the last painting, Leeman immediately threw it away, surprising the doctor.

The doctor wanted to ask what was in it, but involuntarily froze, meeting his gaze. An indescribable fear ran through the doctor. Even the butterfly on the ceiling stirred, flapping its wings.

The next device to be tested was a pendulum measuring activity “from the outside”. It spontaneously started swinging with accelerating amplitude.

- Give me the pills. - Liman said in a quiet voice.

The doctor did not answer Leeman, clutching the pistol in the concealed compartment with one hand.

- I passed the test. The pills. - Liman spoke slowly, and that previously unknown expression was replaced by a rather ordinary rage.

The doctor is a professional after all and quickly calmed down, took out the pills, throwing them to Liman. He caught them and hurried away from the place.

- Come back in a week. - The doctor shouted to him one last time.