When I was younger, I used to work as a child psychiatrist. I was new, a fresh graduate straight out of college, and eager to start a new career.
I found a job fairly easily, as I started working at a children’s hospital. I never bothered reading reviews about this specific hospital, because it had been constantly praised by my professors, and was the place where the majority of people with my degree dived into and spent most of their lives in. We had no other hospital in the area, as I lived in a rural town in the middle of nowhere, so I had no choice but to apply there.
The interview process was odd, to say the least. The atmosphere was tense in the room. The interviewer looked nervous as I was handed a waiver, which I quickly signed without reading, and I was hired on the spot. I think they were very short staffed, as I had started working there the next day.
My first day, as I thought at that time, was very unusual. I was introduced to my coworkers, and I took a short tour around the hospital. It felt surreal, looking at the jail like rooms with solid white walls, and hearing children cry all around me. My first patient was a small girl with anxiety named Anne, who was about 5 years old. Her parents were happy to work with me and explained her situation, while the girl looked at me with awe. We went to a room on the 3rd floor of the hospital, which was colorfully decorated, and I started to talk to her to try and get to know her more.
“Hello!” I said to the small girl, putting on a fake smile, “How are you today?”
The girl looked at me blankly, “Good.”
I started to gather my supplies, a piece of paper and a pen, and started writing. She stares at my paper, and reaches her hand towards it. Thinking nothing of it, I hand her one, and a few coloring pencils that she could draw with. After a brief minute or so, I peer over at her drawing, and ask her to show it to me.
“What did you draw?” I curiously ask, pointing to one of the figures in the painting.
Anne looked at me and whispered “The creepy man.” I look at her with worry, as she starts to tear up. She continues, “He has big teeth that are sharp. He always finds me and my friends at my school, and always gives us a smile.”
I looked at the drawing, which appears to be a giant shadowy figure with red eyes, and a creepy smile. Its fingers were elongated and thick, with dripping blood next to it.The other two people in the drawing was what I assumed to be Anne and her friends, crying and screaming for help.
I quickly dismiss Anne and rush to Crystal, one of my coworkers, and tell her about what happened. She looks at me in confusion, and then laughs.
“That’s normal here. Have you seen our reviews? We’re known for this stuff.”
I thank her and walk away, pondering over her answer. I decide to take a small break by walking around the hospital’s garden area, which was full of the most beautiful trees and herbs. As I am walking, I notice a figure come towards me, but I just ignore it and continue walking. Eventually, 15 minutes pass and my break is now over. I walk back into the hospital, feeling dreadful, and wary of what’s to come.
My second (and last) patient was a teenager, named Chris, whom I learned was very hyper and had anger issues. I chat to his parents and admit him into the room. I take out my supplies again, this time placing them next to my patient. I ask him a few questions, and then prompt him to start drawing.
“What do I draw about?” Chris says, not able to contain his joy. I think for a moment, before saying my response.
“Well, anything you’d like.” I say cheerfully.
He starts to draw. After a few minutes of him drawing, he sits up and shows it to me. I get chills down my spine as he starts to ramble on about his drawing. I notice another figure in the drawing and point it out.
“What’s that?” I say to Chris, as he slowly adjusts his eyes towards me.
“I don’t know.” Chris says.
His response startled me. I try to think of any ways to ask him about it, when a sudden ringing fills my ears. I scream out in pain as Chris continues to stare at me, blankly.
I woke up in the nurse’s office, strapped to a chair. I get approached by a nurse, who asks me a few questions, then tells me I can go home. I get a horrible feeling, but I listen to the nurse, and head out.
I felt very nauseous about the whole day, and just wanted some rest. So, I decided to ignore my gut feeling, and try going home. I get into my car and start driving. A figure appears into the backseat and scares me. My heart is beating faster in my chest, as I start to pull over and inspect my car. I frantically check, but nothing seemed to be there. Just as I was turning around to continue driving, a sharp hand pulled my shoulder. I start to cry out in pain, but the figure simply covers my mouth.
I bite the monster’s hand as hard as I can, which makes it retreat a little bit, and I started to run away, abandoning my car.
I felt better after running for a few minutes and not seeing it around. I enter my home, and desperately climb into bed. My heart continued to pound as I started to sleep.
I woke up in a cold sweat. I look around my room, and noticed a figure staring at me in the corner. I get out of bed, slowly crawling out in order not to alert the figure. I grab the nearest thing, which was my water bottle, and hurl it towards the monster. It screeched as it continues beating him with my bare hands.
Its sharp fingers began to pierce my cheek, making me reel in pain. It began to reach out towards my legs, but it stopped when I started to hurl everything on my table towards it.
I heard an ear piercing sound, and passed out.
After a few minutes, I started to gain consciousness, and began to turn the light on and look at what I had done. I felt pure horror as I saw blood all ove the room, all over my walls. I discovered a mangled corpse of what was once the monster, smiling. I stare at it in shock, unable to move my body. My thoughts were racing, and I couldn’t do anything but stare. I quickly grab some bags and clean it up, making sure that I dont touch the creature with my hands. I wash it off, and decide to try to sleep, because I had work the next day.
I haven’t been the same since this incident happened. I am no longer a psychiatrist, as having constant paranoia and low self esteem caused me to quit my job at the hospital. Looking back now, I kind of regret ever getting that degree. Nowadays, I work at a retail job, for significantly less money, but it’s the only thing that keeps me sane. I sometimes see the monster in the corner of my eye, waiting for someone else, someone naive, to prey on.
Stay safe, everyone.