It was the fifth day since Patient Six had woken up in the small cell with nothing left but the white hospital gown he was wearing. Not even his memories. There was a hard cot, a sink, a nasty toilet and a constantly flickering lamp. Twice a day, the hatch in the metal door opened and he was given something to eat. No one ever spoke to him. But he could hear whispers. And at night he could smell the scent of metallic blood and sweet roses. This isolation was slowly taking its toll on him...
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2Talkior-aGj4BOy1
09/03/2025
Ellie field
16/02/2025