The moment I walked into the Perfect Health Care Clinic with my best friend, Lara, I felt a strange mix of excitement and unease.
The building was all white, too clean.
The lights didn't flicker.
Even the smell—sterile, antiseptic—was almost intoxicating, like it could wash away sins.
Four years.
Four years of learning, growing, shaping ourselves into doctors who could save lives.
That's what they promised.
That's what Lara believed.
That's what I had to pretend to believe.
The first week was like a dream.
The instructors smiled endlessly, the patients were punctual and "cooperative," the cafeteria food—though tasteless—was plentiful.
We were handed white coats, our names embroidered, and welcomed like we belonged.
But there's a difference between belonging and surviving.
By the second week, I noticed it.
Subtle things.
Shadows that didn't align with their owners.
Patients who never blinked when spoken to.
Staff who moved too gracefully, too silently, like predators testing their prey.
Lara laughed them off. "maybe they are trained well," she said, clasping my hand as we walked down the endless hallways lined with identical doors.
Her warmth made my stomach churn with guilt.
We were assigned to different wings.
She to Pediatrics, me to Surgical Observation.
The first patient I saw was a man who had been burned in a factory accident.
His screams were exquisite—a symphony of pain that should have stirred empathy—but I felt nothing for some reason.
Maybe because i have heard those scream before.
I wrote down vitals mechanically, noting the way the flesh peeled in clean strips, as if the fire had sculpted him into perfection.
The nurse supervising me smiled and said, "You'll learn to love it."
I didn't get what she meant.
It was there I first met the Sack-Faced Man.
He wasn't a patient. Not exactly.
He was an observer, a shadow lingering in the corners, always silent, watching every staff.
His burlap mask was stitched crudely, but his presence commanded fear.
I didn't speak to him. I didn't need to.
He nodded once at us and left.
I found him very weird, and when i ask the nurses, they told me not to think much about it. And so i did.
The next time I saw him, Lara was gone, vanished from her wing for hours without explanation.
And when i asked her about it, she told me she just went "somewhere "
_____
By the end of the first month, things escalated.
Patients arrived with minor complaints.
By the time they left, some had changed entirely.
Some… disappeared.
The halls echoed with whispers of pain, laughter that didn't belong, and faint, untraceable movements behind the glass walls.
I confided in Lara, asking her if she'd felt it.
She laughed nervously, "Don't let your mind wander, it's all normal!"
But it wasn't normal.
Not here.
One evening, she disappeared again and i went looking for all over the clinic.
And when i finally found her, Lara was tied to a surgical table in a dimly lit chamber beneath the clinic.
The operating tools glistened in the pale light, sharp and dripping with dark blood.
The Sack-Faced Man hovered nearby, silent, his burlap mask drenched in shadows.
"what are you doing?!" i shouted, dashing towards Lara's side.
But me handed me a scalpel.
"You can't leave," he said.
"what do you mean?"
His voice, though muffled, slid into my head like ice.
"Only one of you can ascend. Only one can survive what this place teaches."
"i don't want to-"
"then you die" he said
"…."
I looked at Lara, her eyes pleaded, mirrored my own fear.
But the clinic demanded a choice.
Survival wasn't about skill.
It wasn't about ethics.
It was about cruelty.
I remember thinking of the twins. My daughters—innocent, tiny, warm.
If I failed, they would inherit nothing but shame, fear, and the shadows that followed this place.
My heart wrenched.
And yet, the clinic whispered that the path to power required betrayal.
"am sorry…."
The decision came to me in a heartbeat.
I slit Lara's bonds with trembling hands, just enough to make her look at me with hope.
Then, with precision I didn't know I had, I performed the ritual the Sack-Faced Man demanded.
Her screams echoed like a song, tearing my ears and my soul.
When it was over, she was gone, absorbed into the clinic, transformed into one of the silent, smiling corpses that lined the corridors in invisible rows.
I cried.
The Sack-Faced Man nodded, approving.
"You understand now."
I did.
I understood that horror was a ladder, and to climb, someone had to fall.
My betrayal to Lara wasn't personal—it was essential.
My connection with her, my love for her… irrelevant.
Only my ambition, only my survival, mattered….right?
For months, I continued my work in the clinic. I learned, perfected, and thrived.
I wore my white coat like armor.
I smiled at patients while doing things no one should ever do.
The screams became music, the blood a ritual bath.
And yet, beneath it all, a hollow part of me began to grow.
I was becoming the woman who would raise twins in silence, in fear, shaping them without showing them my sins… or so I thought.
Then, one day, as I cleaned the surgical hall, I felt a presence behind me.
My reflection in the glass wall flickered—not mine.
The Sack-Faced Man appeared, closer than ever, and spoke without moving his lips.
"Do not forget what you are," he said. "Every choice is a chain. Every life you take is a tether. Even now, the children watch."
I turned, heart pounding, and realized he was right.
Every night, in my dreams, my daughters—tiny, innocent—watched me.
I tried to hide it, but their eyes pierced through the shadows.
I realized, too late, that the clinic didn't just train doctors.
It trained monsters.
And I had answered the call willingly.
The last week at the clinic, my final evaluation, the Sack-Faced Man presented me with a mirror.
Not ordinary glass, but a mirror of all the lives I had touched, all the screams I had silenced, all the bodies I had bent to my will.
And there, staring back at me, was the woman who would become the mother of my twins.
Not the loving mother I wanted to be, not the girl who once trembled holding Lara's hand—but the monster.
I smiled.
I accepted it.
Because to deny it was to die.
After 5 years, he came.
For daughters, the tiny light of my own twisted heart.
Only one survived the trials, my hand clutching hers as I whispered, "I'm sorry."
Lena looked at me, her face pale, eyes wide, understanding the legacy she inherited.
And in that moment, i wanted it to end. I wanted to die.
My last daughter now looked me with fear and disgust.
Haah….
I just want to die….
And if i did, i want my only surviving daughter to be free from my sins.
Stream Commentary; Tape #29. "The Perfect health care clinic "
[Kai returns]
Alright, deep breath, people.
That was The Perfect Health care Clinic.
And if you're still here after that… congratulations, you've officially joined the 'I'll never trust hospitals again' club.
Membership includes sleepless nights and a lifetime of side-eye at anyone wearing scrubs.
Now—what do you guys think?"
[@Enchomay:"The clinic was never about healthcare.
It was a farm. People weren't patients—they were resources. The 'perfect' in the name was just bait. And I think the sack-faced man was their supplier. He brought them what they needed… or who they needed.]
[@642:Yeah, but… I kind of wanna know how good the food was there before it went all stabby stab. Also, why was Sack-Face hanging out in a hospital? That's like finding your dentist in a butcher shop.]
[@Jaija: but what about her betrayal?]
[@Ovesix: She didn't just betray her best friend. She enjoyed it- am sure of it. Not in the way you think—she enjoyed the power, the moment she realized she could be the one pulling the strings instead of dangling from them, Ugh….]
[@Enchomay:Her betrayal wasn't sudden—it was a slow infection. The clinic's real service wasn't to heal the body, it was to rot the soul. By the time she made her choice, she'd already been remade in its image. Asking for death at the end wasn't regret—it was control. She decided when her story ended]
[@Jaija: she wished to end it all, because she didn't want to hurt more people…..]
[@642: hump! Her wish to die wasn't because she was tired. It was because she saw the things behind the sack-faced man, her sins, her murders. And once you see it… you can't live knowing it's still watching you.]
[@Ovesix: i wonder how she felt when her own daughter fulfilled her wish…]
[@Jaija: but sadly the daughter could not escape her mother's sins, how sad]
Yeah… and that's the part most folks won't get.
The clinic didn't just patch you up—it hollowed you out and filled you with whatever they wanted.
And betrayal? Sometimes it's not a sudden knife in the back—it's a smile over years, while they slowly decide your name is better on a gravestone than a Christmas card.
Moral of the story; not every place that calls itself 'perfect' is safe.
Not every healer wants you well.
And some people?
The scariest part about them is that they'll smile while cutting you open, and convince themselves it's for your own good.
So chat, Trust is a luxury. And luxury gets stolen first."
I will give this one a solid 7/10
(smirking at the camera):
Alright… stretch, hydrate, lock your doors.
Our next story? Oh, you're gonna love this one.
It's called… The Emergency Service.
And if you thought the clinic was bad—wait until you see who comes when you call for help.
STREAM ENDED