Ahmet looked at the man next to him in surprise. The pain in his right leg began to increase. This pain was getting unbearable. The people in the waiting room noticed Ahmet's pain and came near him. One of them had brought a stretcher with him. Ahmet immediately lay down on the it. Not able to bear the pain, he had closed his eyes for a moments. One of the men who came gave him a piece of paper. Ahmet realized that this paper was also blank with meaningless numbers and letters on it. It was the third time he had found blank paper, however, he felt that these papers had a value or a meaning. There was a reason for that; every time Ahmet found a blank paper, he met someone. The first time he met artists, the second time he encountered gangster-like men. Ahmet did not need to take the other papers out of his pocket; he had memorized those meaningless numbers and letters.

A man whom Ahmet knew approached him. It was one of the people they examined when he entered the building. He was the doctor. Or should he say he was the man who thought he was a doctor? But he had mastered medical concepts. Therefore, the probability of being a real doctor was high.

"Hmm!" said the doctor, scratching his chin. Then, he grabbed her leg and began to touch it. His touch was strange; it was more like stroking a cat than examining. Ahmet preferred to remain silent for now, as he did not know who would do what. The doctor then suddenly pressed on his leg. Ahmet let out another cry of pain. Those around him calmed him down.

"There is a fracture, but you have reduced it already," the doctor said. Then he turned to Ahmet, "Let's fix it with a splint, right?" he asked Ahmet. Ahmet nodded.

"Let's take the patient to the infirmary," the doctor said to his companions. Someone started pushing Ahmet's stretcher. He was on their way to the rooms where he had examined. Ahmet put the third blank paper in his pocket where the other two were.

The walls of the rooms were demolished, and this part of the building was turned into a long and narrow room. Pieces of the collapsed wall inside the room were still hanging there. Stretchers were placed at regular intervals on the side near the glass, but some of them were very open. They put Ahmet's stretcher in one of these big gaps. Ahmet looked at the people in the room. One was someone tied to a bed, trying to escape. Ahmet knew the other person, lying farthest from him; had seen her before. She was the pregnant lady; lying in her bed, breathing deeply. It seemed that her labor was soon.

A few people came to Ahmet and examined him again. Then they wrapped something around his leg. On the other hand, one of them was taking notes of what the others were saying with a dip pen. After a while, those who came to Ahmet checked the condition of the other patients (?). Just as they were about to leave the pregnant lady, they saw the doctor entering the room. They all went to the him. They were talking to each other silently. Ahmet had a hard time hearing what was being said. It was probably about the patients, he guessed.

The doctor first went to the pregnant woman. The doctor was smiling, but Ahmet could not hear what he was saying. After talking for a while, the doctor and his companions went to the other patient. This time the they could be heard.

"What is wrong with this patient, friends?"

"Acute psychotic disorder," replied the man with the pen in hand. Ahmet saw that the red ink of the pen spilled a drop on the floor.

The man lying on the stretcher tried to stand up again, but they stopped him. "I have nothing. It is you who is sick. That's the effect of the neuromorphic nucleus," the man shouted.

"The delusions have increased," the doctor said. Turning to the others, "Have we started olanzapine?" asked.

"We're out of ... Olanzapine ... we don't have it," said one (frightened) and took a step back.

"What do you mean...!" the doctor got angry but didn't finished his sentence. Then he took a deep breath and calmed down. "If that's the case, take him to the anatomy room. If there's nothing we can do, let him at least serve science."

The man let out a few screams, but the others covered his mouth. Then they unlocked his stretcher's lock and started pushing. They passed the pregnant woman and stopped at the other end of the room.

The doctor and a person next to him came to Ahmet. The doctor looked at Ahmet's leg. "Well made splint," he said, and turned to the man beside him. "What is the patient's condition?"

"We couldn't find anything on his inspection."

"Have you done your neurological examination?"

The man was frightened, and he said in a low voice, "We...we didn't...make it."

The doctor thought for a while with his hand on his chin. Calmly pointing to the short metal bar beside Ahmet, "Could you pass me that?" he asked.

The man near him calmly handed the stick to the doctor. The doctor examined the stick, took it between both hands and showed it to Ahmet. Then he quickly plunged the stick into the shoulder of his companion.

The man fell to the ground, unable to bear the pain in his shoulder. He began to writhe in pain on the ground. "Try raising your arm," the doctor said, calmly. The man tried to raise his arm but he couldn't make it.

"As you can see," the doctor said, "neurological examination is crucial in this type of trauma. Be more careful next time. Alright?"

The man, writhing on the ground in pain, nodded. The doctor began to walk towards the other end of the room. The man with the iron stuck in his shoulder got up and started following the doctor as if nothing had happened.

The doctor and his colleagues stood at the other end of the room. They forced the sick man down on a metal table. They were holding his arms and legs. The doctor took a knife from the drawer under the table. The man struggled to stay off the table for the last time, but they wouldn't let him. The doctor began to cut the man. A cloth was also tucked into his net to prevent the man's screams. After struggling for a while, the man finally died. Everyone gathered around the wound. Ahmet understood the situation. It was an anatomy lesson, brutal as it was. Fortunately, that doesn't actually happen.

Ahmet caught the doctor's attention. The doctor calmly approached him. His apron was covered in blood.

"Can I leave early?" Ahmet asked calmly.

The doctor paused for a while. Ahmet was also getting scared. Then he came really close to Ahmet.

"The patient's consent is required," he said. Doctor and Ahmet was really close to each other.

"Of course," said Ahmet. He was quite relieved. At least he wasn't penetrated with an iron stick.

One of the men turned his back on Ahmet. He fell to his knees. To his arm movements, he was stroking something. At the same time, he was panting. "Come out, come out dammit!" he said, gasping. Then, "Yes!" he yelled, "Finally, got it out"

When the man turned around, he was holding a glass inkwell filled with red ink. Raising it, he yelled, "Here I am, finally!" Then, he handed Ahmet a piece of paper. Also, put the inkwell next to him. Ahmet examined the paper; it was a consent form. Ahmet signed the form with a red-inked(!) pen. The man took the form to the doctor. "You may leave," said the doctor, after looking at the form.

Ahmet stood up slowly. He started walking with a limp. Just as he was about to leave the room, he heard the screams of the pregnant woman. Everyone gathered around her. Ahmet started to watch the pregnant woman from the doorway. Labor had begun. Not willing to waste any more time, Ahmet kept walking.

As Ahmet was walking down the corridor, he heard another sound. Someone was approaching. He felt that his body was beginning to lose control. He fell down. He turned and saw a man in black rags floating in the air. The man stood him up, and began to make him walk. Although he was writhing in pain, Ahmet was stepping on his broken leg. What was this thing? It sure wasn't real. Obviously, such thing wasn't possible. But, somehow that thing was controlling Ahmet. Just as Ahmet was approaching, someone grabbed him and dragged him into the next room. The man in the black rag continued to soar through the air, without following them.

"What was that?" asked Ahmet.

"They," he replied.

"Who are they?"

"Pastor will explain it soon. Don't worry."