"So… this was a symptom of mental illness?" Hector sighed, leaning his back against the dusty, damp wall of the prison.
He could easily guess his illness based on the symptoms.
First, the countless negative whispers had been appearing in his mind. Each of them aimed at the darkest part of his hidden self.
Second, there were a large number of soulless and horrific illusions around him.
To be exact, it was a terrifying thing he never wanted to suffer from, like the lunatic patients whom he once treated as he remained in the modern hospital.
And it was truly terrifying.
Right now, he could see two boys at the corner of the prison.
They seemed to be playing with each other or simply doing something he couldn't figure out unless he approached them, but he had no intention of doing that.
It felt eerie—dangerously eerie.
"Fuck!" Hector blinked nonstop, even pressing his eyelids over and over to get rid of the illusion, but it mostly didn't work.
