The Distant Nightmare
The glass was cold against my forehead, a slab of reinforced plexiglass separating my face from the sterile, humming void of the observation room. I screamed until my throat bled, a raw, tearing sound that vibrated through the floorboards and into the soles of my slippers. Behind the glass, Dr. Aris sat in a chair that looked too small for his frame, a cup of black coffee growing cold in his...
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