Post by abraxes on Apr 17, 2024 15:39:04 GMT
Dr. Harlaw looked at the file on his desk and rubbed at his temples. He kept a bottle of scotch in his desk for particularly rough days and this patient was almost always a rough day. He pushed the thought from his mind and paged through the notes that he had taken.
Michael Forsythe, aged 38 had gone missing in the middle of the year 2021 and stayed missing for 8 months. Nobody knew where he went. He left work one day and no one saw him again until he was found later screaming about not knowing where he was at a Professional wrestling show.
By all outward appearances it seemed that he had abandoned his life and responsibilities to go and be a pro wrestler. Not the strangest thing that had ever happened. Not on its own. But he had left no mark on where he had gone. The information he had registered under belonged to some guy in Montana trying to live off the grid. When the police investigated where he was being paid it was to a local bank in Las Vegas and the money had never been touched. In the entire time that Dr. Harlaw had tended to Michael, he never once gave any inclination as to what he was doing for that 8 month time period.
It was one of the single strangest incidents he had ever come across. It seemed like a psychotic break with acute amnesia. But in all of his years of practice he’d never seen a case just like this one. Michael had no fugue states, no other instances of memory loss. He had nightmares that he could not explain or remember but as months turned into years they had eased in frequency and severity.
Dr. Harlaw ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the folder for a long moment but then he flipped it towards the back. This was perhaps the most disturbing thing about the case. The medical records.
The doctors that had evaluated him confirmed that his body had suffered several injuries over the course of the time. Bones that had broken and rehealed. Strained ligaments. Signs of brain and organ trauma. Injuries that would have required care. Required hospitalization in some instances. He still carried a limp in his right leg and only partial mobilization in his left arm and had signs of CBT.
But there were no records to show that he had ever been treated by a medical facility during that time frame. Investigators and police had combed through data trying to find any sign and could find none. It was eventually chalked up to another unknown alias. But how would it have been paid for?
Dr. Harlaw shivered and his hand reached to the drawer that contained his bottle when there was a knock at the door. He straightened and cleared his throat.
“Enter.”
A nurse pushed open the door and peeked his head inside.
“Dr. Harlaw, I think you should see this. It’s Michael.”
He frowned, pushing down the feeling of dread that welled up inside of him. He pushed back from his desk and nodded before hurrying after the nurse towards Michael’s room. When they arrived there were several other nurses standing in the hall, as well as an orderly having an ice pack pressed to his face.
“What happened?”
“He complained of feeling ill so his activities for the day were canceled. But he missed all of his meals. An aid tried to bring him some dinner and Michael attacked him. He… He bit him, Doctor.”
Dr. Harlaw frowned deeply. Michael was a troubled patient but not a violent one. In fact he was mostly pleasant to be around when his Post Traumatic stress was not too bad. There had even been talks of a release to an assisted living facility.
“I see.”
“Some of the Orderlies tried to restrain him so we could get him some meds to calm him down and he attacked them too. Paul and John are being seen in the infirmary. But since then he’s just been… Well you might have to see for yourself.”
“Alright, I will go and talk to him.”
Dr. Harlaw took a deep breath and used his badge to unlock the room door and stepped inside. The room looked like it had been ransacked. Books and food littered the floor. The smell of waste hit his nose as he stepped in. He looked around in the brightly lit room until he saw Michael’s large form curled up in a corner.
“Michael, it’s Dr. Harlaw.”
“Go away.”
“I just want to talk. That’s all. We are really worried about you Michael. I know it’s not our normal time but it seems like it might be a good time for it.”
“It’s not safe.”
“You are perfectly safe Michael. You have nothing to worry about.”
“No. Nowhere is safe. It’s happening again. No one is safe.”
Michael shifted in place, clutching something tighter to his chest.
“Well let’s talk about what’s happening. We can figure it out together Michael.” He paused for a moment. “Do you want to show me what you have there.”
“I was keeping it safe for you. It’s important. You need to see it. Everyone does. I know you would show them. It’s not safe.”
Without turning around Michael held up a notebook filled with pen scratchings. Dr. Harlaw stepped forward, and carefully took a hold of it. Michael easily gave it up to him and when he looked down at it he frowned. The characters were strange, not ones he recognized. But from the indentations of the paper and the frantic way they were marked it was clear that it was something of note to his patient. He paged through the notebook, seeing pages and pages of the strange script.
“Michael, what is thi…” The doctor took a step back, feeling a cold sweat break out on his skin. While he had been looking at the notebook Michael had turned around. He had been bleeding from the eyes and ears, the blood smeared across his face. It swirled in patterns across his skin and the way he had smeared it across his lips formed a rictus grin. His heart pounded in his chest as appearance struck a chord.
This was the mask that Michael had worn when he competed. This was the image he put to the world after he disappeared.
“The world must know. It tells it all there. What was said. I needed to let them know. To let you know.”
“Let me know what…”
His lips stretched into a smile, the expression at odds with the naked terror that filled his blood filled eyes. A sound escaped Michael, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
“He is coming.”
Michael Forsythe, aged 38 had gone missing in the middle of the year 2021 and stayed missing for 8 months. Nobody knew where he went. He left work one day and no one saw him again until he was found later screaming about not knowing where he was at a Professional wrestling show.
By all outward appearances it seemed that he had abandoned his life and responsibilities to go and be a pro wrestler. Not the strangest thing that had ever happened. Not on its own. But he had left no mark on where he had gone. The information he had registered under belonged to some guy in Montana trying to live off the grid. When the police investigated where he was being paid it was to a local bank in Las Vegas and the money had never been touched. In the entire time that Dr. Harlaw had tended to Michael, he never once gave any inclination as to what he was doing for that 8 month time period.
It was one of the single strangest incidents he had ever come across. It seemed like a psychotic break with acute amnesia. But in all of his years of practice he’d never seen a case just like this one. Michael had no fugue states, no other instances of memory loss. He had nightmares that he could not explain or remember but as months turned into years they had eased in frequency and severity.
Dr. Harlaw ran his fingers through his hair and stared at the folder for a long moment but then he flipped it towards the back. This was perhaps the most disturbing thing about the case. The medical records.
The doctors that had evaluated him confirmed that his body had suffered several injuries over the course of the time. Bones that had broken and rehealed. Strained ligaments. Signs of brain and organ trauma. Injuries that would have required care. Required hospitalization in some instances. He still carried a limp in his right leg and only partial mobilization in his left arm and had signs of CBT.
But there were no records to show that he had ever been treated by a medical facility during that time frame. Investigators and police had combed through data trying to find any sign and could find none. It was eventually chalked up to another unknown alias. But how would it have been paid for?
Dr. Harlaw shivered and his hand reached to the drawer that contained his bottle when there was a knock at the door. He straightened and cleared his throat.
“Enter.”
A nurse pushed open the door and peeked his head inside.
“Dr. Harlaw, I think you should see this. It’s Michael.”
He frowned, pushing down the feeling of dread that welled up inside of him. He pushed back from his desk and nodded before hurrying after the nurse towards Michael’s room. When they arrived there were several other nurses standing in the hall, as well as an orderly having an ice pack pressed to his face.
“What happened?”
“He complained of feeling ill so his activities for the day were canceled. But he missed all of his meals. An aid tried to bring him some dinner and Michael attacked him. He… He bit him, Doctor.”
Dr. Harlaw frowned deeply. Michael was a troubled patient but not a violent one. In fact he was mostly pleasant to be around when his Post Traumatic stress was not too bad. There had even been talks of a release to an assisted living facility.
“I see.”
“Some of the Orderlies tried to restrain him so we could get him some meds to calm him down and he attacked them too. Paul and John are being seen in the infirmary. But since then he’s just been… Well you might have to see for yourself.”
“Alright, I will go and talk to him.”
Dr. Harlaw took a deep breath and used his badge to unlock the room door and stepped inside. The room looked like it had been ransacked. Books and food littered the floor. The smell of waste hit his nose as he stepped in. He looked around in the brightly lit room until he saw Michael’s large form curled up in a corner.
“Michael, it’s Dr. Harlaw.”
“Go away.”
“I just want to talk. That’s all. We are really worried about you Michael. I know it’s not our normal time but it seems like it might be a good time for it.”
“It’s not safe.”
“You are perfectly safe Michael. You have nothing to worry about.”
“No. Nowhere is safe. It’s happening again. No one is safe.”
Michael shifted in place, clutching something tighter to his chest.
“Well let’s talk about what’s happening. We can figure it out together Michael.” He paused for a moment. “Do you want to show me what you have there.”
“I was keeping it safe for you. It’s important. You need to see it. Everyone does. I know you would show them. It’s not safe.”
Without turning around Michael held up a notebook filled with pen scratchings. Dr. Harlaw stepped forward, and carefully took a hold of it. Michael easily gave it up to him and when he looked down at it he frowned. The characters were strange, not ones he recognized. But from the indentations of the paper and the frantic way they were marked it was clear that it was something of note to his patient. He paged through the notebook, seeing pages and pages of the strange script.
“Michael, what is thi…” The doctor took a step back, feeling a cold sweat break out on his skin. While he had been looking at the notebook Michael had turned around. He had been bleeding from the eyes and ears, the blood smeared across his face. It swirled in patterns across his skin and the way he had smeared it across his lips formed a rictus grin. His heart pounded in his chest as appearance struck a chord.
This was the mask that Michael had worn when he competed. This was the image he put to the world after he disappeared.
“The world must know. It tells it all there. What was said. I needed to let them know. To let you know.”
“Let me know what…”
His lips stretched into a smile, the expression at odds with the naked terror that filled his blood filled eyes. A sound escaped Michael, somewhere between a laugh and a sob.
“He is coming.”
Well howdy there pardner.