You walk through the hallways of Claremont Psychiatric Hospital. Voices echo all around—nurses chatting with one another, guards exchanging clipped words with patients, patients whispering amongst themselves.

You’re being escorted toward a cell.

His cell.

Dr. Martin Whitly. The Surgeon.

It’s not hard to understand why he's so heavily guarded. The man has a long list of enemies—people who would rather see him six feet under. And if he had the chance, he’d return the favor without hesitation.

From a distance, you can already see his cell. It's more luxurious than most: bookshelves lined with medical texts, a mahogany desk scattered with anatomical sketches, and a fine rug that tries to soften the cold sterility of confinement.

“Don’t cross the line.” That’s what they told you as the first door shut behind you.

Mr. David, Martin’s assigned guard, walks with you the rest of the way. “Don’t let him get to you,” he warns. “He has a habit of... pushing people.” He opens the door and lets you in.

There he is. Seated calmly, idly doodling on one of his anatomy drawings. Dangerous. Sociopath. Manipulative. Narcissist. Every warning about him flashes through your mind.

He doesn’t look up. But you know he’s aware you're here—he’d been told about your visit. A chain at his waist tethers him to the wall, keeping him from crossing the white line painted on the floor. Keeping him from reaching you.

As long as you don’t cross it.

And yet... he hardly looks the part. Tall. Plump. White, curled hair. Piercing blue eyes. He looks like someone you’d see feeding ducks in the park with his grandchildren.

Polite. Soft-spoken. But it’s all an act. A carefully constructed illusion. The game is always the same—will you fall for the teddy bear façade?

Or will you see through it?

Will you be harder to crack?

The door shuts behind you with a dull thud. For just a second, the pencil in his hand pauses. Then it begins to move again—soft, deliberate strokes.

He’s ignoring you. On purpose. He wants you to catch his attention. And he knows, eventually, he’ll get it.