The man sat behind the cells, alone, in the darkness with the other old things. Cold and long-forgotten. Staring at his shadow that seemed to have its own brain and looking back at him with imaginary cold-lidded eyes. His ears were conscious of the clamor and invisibly bleeding with incessant screaming he'd heard almost every day.

He was silent but his mind was observing everything. The young lad could tell almost quickly whose scream it belonged. From the wicked hysterical laughter of the insane old man, the weeping of the poor girl, to the furious raving of the bald guy. And even the disturbing whispers of the voices behind his head. He recognizes it very well.

Yoongi was ill — that is what the doctor said to him.

He was mentally ill, that is what everyone believed he was.

Min Yoongi is twenty-two years old and he is diagnosed with Acute Schizophrenia. Ever since he was a kid, his life had been plunged into the blackness of the supernatural. He is seeing ghosts, unearthly creatures. He would wake up at luridly 3:00 am, and see a girl in black sitting stolidly at his foot. And at the age of three, he would scream for his mother, and she would come running and soothe him. And Mother will only tell him they were not real but just a bad dream. But Yoongi knew they were not just silly nightmares. Yoongi is certain of it, they'd speak to him sometimes. But then mother would insist they're just creatures inside his head and nothing more than that.

Yoongi tried to believe that those ghosts are just part of dreams and they existed only in his mind. But his doubts soon replied to his thoughts when Yoongi turned sixteen. Things get more real. They're not just ghosts or creatures inside his head. They're devils, sprouting out from hell and claiming to be his owner.

Yoongi was no possession of anyone. He was a possessor of himself.

Yoongi lost his mother when he was five and with her ashes, the light in the centre of Yoongi's heart faltered as well. It was a sudden death like how the bubbles exploded in the thin thorn of wind, leaving no clue how it had happened. And Yoongi didn't get to see his father. Whenever he tried to ask his mother about it, she would just change the subject or never answer at all to which Yoongi never attempted to question his mother again.

He was taken into the care of his cruel aunt who made his life a living hell. He was never treated like a family in that house. He was a maid; a maid who cleaned their mess in the morning, afternoon, and night. Little Yoongi learned to cook at a very young age, clean the pig's shits, sweep the yard, and clean the whole house — and he was not allowed to take a rest. Big responsibility to put for an innocent child who only craves for his mother's touch.

He doesn't have friends for the reason that everyone thinks he is weird. A chunky man with thick black greasy hair falling on his beady lavender eyes that glow like enchanting Amethyst when put against the sunlight. He has pale skin, smooth and delicate like the silk petals of white roses.

Yoongi is a taciturn person. His dark aura scares everyone. He would try to speak, but it would only come out as a stutter or a crook. The voice just won't come out of his stubborn throat. Whenever he tries, a flash of searing pain would come scorching up his throat. His aunt never brings him to a doctor thus they don't know what's wrong with him — and the people around him are already used to his silent nature.

When Yoongi finally learned the truth from lies, he realized that the real monsters are not those that live inside his closet, those under the bed, or those that are staring at him intently from the ceiling. It was the person he got to live his life with. They're the real monsters.

No one would ever believe that a young boy could commit such a heinous crime.

The loud screaming of Mrs. Chui remarked in Min Yoongi's head. She broke into perturbing gags as Yoongi dragged the knife deeper into her throat, the blood pudding around them, letting her sit in her own scoundrelly blood. Die … Die … Die … The phrase goes on repeatedly on his tongue. Die … Die … Die …

Even with the cries of her daughters, they are not able to stop Min Yoongi. Mrs. Chui's daughters, Abi and Gail who witnessed the horrendous crime were not able to survive at the hand of the vengeful criminal. They're yet killed as well. Later when Min Yoongi was declared guilty — yet not a single shit did he feel guilty for doing it. He was jailed for three years but later transferred to an insane asylum after showing psychotic behavior. He is crazy, that is what everyone is making him feel. But that is not what Yoongi believes he is. He believed that he is different from insane patients in this building; he is not one of them; he knew to himself that he is not losing his mind. No, he's something far worse.

Yoongi can see clearly, the black hairy 'Things'  with long fangs and curvy horns, lurking within the corner of his room. Their gruesome faces make Yoongi cry in terror and ventilate.

It's not only one, or two, or three, seven is the less he could count and he was surrounded by 'them'. They're in the corner. Their glowing penetrating red eyes burned through his soul and caused a great number of chills to crawl out of his skin. They're behind him; they're under his bed; they're beside him, they're in the ceiling, hanging like a wrenches hand animal; they're outside his cell, guarding him; and they're behind the people. All of them gathered in the place with only accurate reason Yoongi is certain; to take him with them.

He tried to tell everyone about the monsters that are living inside the cell with him, but none of them ever tried to listen to him. They're just like his mother when he tries to tell her about the ghosts in his room. She doesn't believe him, even after he told her about them taking her away from him. And now, she's nothing but scattered ashes in the cold dull wind—and so, they are.

__

Dr. Park is a successful psychologist. His name is known in the world. He received many recognitions and awards for his awesome works. His existence is surrounded by sparkling gold and flooded by love from people. But none of them is enough for him. Sure, he felt happy sometimes. But that happiness of money and praise when time goes on, it fades. It's like a first snowflake and then later turns into a snowstorm. That is one of the things that Dr. Park learned in the pathway of his career. No money, glamour, nor fame of a person could define the real happiness of individuals.

Dr. Park has a mysterious interest in paranormal stuff. It might be weird for a psychologist, especially for those into science, to believe in such things, but it was always a dream for him to see things. Thereupon receiving an email from the Westwood Mental Hospital about the bizarre patient they have, Dr. Park immediately read the patient's information, and without further hesitation, he accepted the job to be the new doctor of Patient 666.

Enthusiasm warred with agitation for this new opportunity, but of course, the enthusiasm won over him. Dr. Park loves to challenge himself. He'd been looking for something like Patient 666, and he could not wait to see the strange stuff he does that the person in the email describes to him. Dr. Park does not believe in words, he would only be convinced that something is wrong with this patient, not mentally but spiritually, if he sees him floating in the air. Then, he can pick up his case and run scrambling out the door of the mental hospital.

___

"Are you sure about that already? Are you not going to change your mind?" His mother asked for the million times he could count, as she placed the mug of coffee in front of him. A worried look plastered on Mrs. Park's face, after receiving the news about the job offer her son received from the Westwood Mental Hospital.

She sat on the couch across from him. Eyebrows in an askew. Dr. Park picked up the coffee and took a small sip, respiring deeply. "Do I have a choice?" He asked back, looking at his mother. She lets out a sigh of disappointment. "And another thing is — mom, this is a big opportunity for me, for my career. Mom, it's Westwood Mental Hospital! West. Wood." He emphasized, making a motion with his hands like introducing a piece of gold.

"Chim, I know this will impact a big success to you — but son, it's dangerous. I heard that the patient you'll get assigned to is not like the patients you'd worked with before," she said. A dark look came across her face as she moved her face a little closer to Dr. Park. "Everyone said he's controlled by a demon. He's possessed!" She exclaimed. Dr. Park laughed at her remark.

"Mom, when did you start believing in rumors?" He snickered, but Mrs. Park only remained serious. She's a mother, and she would not let her son get in danger specifically by spiritual means. They're not religious people, but she does believe in devils, ghosts, and any other creatures that live in hell. They may look fictional and ridiculous to some, but their ability to harm humans is beyond belief.

Dr. Park continued to laugh, but Mrs. Park didn't find anything funny about it. "Mom, they're just rumors and gossip but none of them state realism nor there is proof that can tell they make sense. If ever it is true that patient 666 is ‘possessed’ by what they called a ‘devil’, isn't it incredible?" Mrs. Park is disgruntled at her snickering son. Her expression is at rest and shows no other emotion but pure disappointment.

"Jimin, are you out of your mind? I am not joking right now. That patient is under demonic possession. Can a mentally ill person walk on the ceiling and climb on walls?"

Dr. Park was quieted by his mother's question. He took a deep breath in and spoke, "mom, that is why I accepted this job to be patient 666's psychologist because I want to see if these rumors are real or if they are just made up of a foolish person's mind. Perhaps, the person who spreads those rumors and sights the happening could be hallucinating or also a mentally ill person. We'll never know." He shrugged. "Mom, that patient needs my help. Only I can cure him. Just give it to me, okay?" Dr. Park took his mother's hand and held it firmly. "I promise if I notice that something is not right, I will immediately file a resignation letter myself. I promise," he assured her.

But deep down him, Dr. Park knew he was telling lies. His promises are nothing more than just words written in the fog of his breath, and after a second or two, they faltered and were forgotten.

Mrs. Park sighed. She could do nothing about it, is there? Once Jimin makes a decision, he does not take a step back. He has pride, just like his father. Reputation. A reputation that he's taking care of and not this fear, not this patient could ruin the name he'd shaped for himself for a long time.

Dr. Park can feel a strong connection the first time he laid his eyes on Patient 666's name. He's different from the last patients he'd handled. Dr. Park had been wishing for something — something like this before, but now he'd already grip the neck of the snake in his hand, today is not the time to let it go.