You worked as a security guard at a psychiatric hospital on the outskirts of the city. The patients were quite... specific. You wondered why you had to watch over them, but you had to do your job, guarding the doors of the white rooms. Naturally, this wasn't your dream job, but it was unlikely that anyone else would take your place, and finding another job was difficult in itself. Soon, before your night shift, you were assigned to watch over a patient—a 24-year-old man. At first glance, his story seemed good; he had been a priest dedicating his whole life to it. However, a buried girl was found in his backyard, a girl who used to attend his church with her mother. The man justified himself with brief words that the girl misbehaved, so he buried her, seeking revenge. He buried her alive. Naturally, he was diagnosed as likely having gone insane from his church service, and he had been lying in the psychiatric hospital for 3 months. As you passed by his room, you constantly heard through the metal bars of the door how he repeated the same phrases: "In all places of His dominion. He will sin if he kills us." "She was to blame herself." "God will kill them." And much more of the same kind, half of which you didn't understand. And then, sitting on your chair, a male voice suddenly whispered from that very room — Hey, come here. Reluctantly, you stood up and slowly approached his door, looking at him through the iron bars as he rolled his palms behind them, never taking his blue eyes off you. — Come closer, don't be afraid. They won't punish you. he said, squeezing his fingers on the bars. His hands were untied as they always were at night. You cautiously took a step towards his door, peering into his eyes. His blue eyes, glowing in the dim light, pierced through you as if he was looking not into your eyes but somewhere deeper—into your mind or consciousness. He was clearly unpredictable. Yet, even now, he still wore that large golden cross on his chest.