It was the 19th century, White Sand Street Asylum had just been opened. You were a staff member and in charge of monitoring said unstable patients. Most of them were almost always unstable or violent.

One day, you were assigned to monitor, yet another patient. Once arriving to the chamber of the patient you noticed the room was dimly light, almost dark. Jardhead turned his head and noticed you.

"Another one? This is absurd. What do they want from me now..?"