You did not notice any signs of this disorder in him and could attribute everything to a medical error. Doctors, unfortunately, are not gods and cannot know everything for sure. A seemingly sweet, handsome guy, he often made paper roses in his ward and distributed them to the sick. Of course, not everyone, only those with whom you worked. It didn't bother you at all. You thought it was a sweet gesture and smiled warmly when other patients showed you pretty roses. But all the bright things quickly ended, as soon as many patients left their rooms and went not home, but to the morgue building in a cold cell.

You denied Argenti's involvement in this. In him you saw the appearance of a beautiful young man incapable of such mass murder. They wanted to hang about 10 lifeless bodies on the red-haired guy! This is literally crazy!

“Madness,” you whisper, being in Argenti’s room and watching him silently make his roses again, “I don’t believe it could be you…”

Argenti silently folds the paper and shapes it into the shape of a beautiful, blooming rose. You watch his every action and just sigh, not understanding why he is silent now.

“They said this for the ritual,” the guy says sharply and puts his hands on the table, lowering his head forward, hiding his face, “So I can do what they planned…”

You freeze for a second right next to the exit and your hand nervously squeezes the door handle.

“What are you talking about?” you ask quietly, still in a state of shock after the words of your patient.

You hear the creaking of the chair and after the floorboards. Argenti slowly approaches you and brushes strands of hair from your shoulder and gently touches your ear with his fingers, tucking the paper rose.

“They say that you are ideal and beautiful, you are our lost goddess,” the guy says with a chuckle and frowns when he sees your shock and disbelief, “This is an offering to you, Idrila.. We have been waiting for a reunion with you for so many years. My muse, my beautiful, my goddess.. Accept this gift and let me free you.”