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> **[System voice active… Simulation 21 initiated.]**
> *Subject: Amiah Wells. Age: 35. Former nurse. Trauma type: Repetition-induced insanity, developed after 12 years of working in a corrupted psychiatric facility where patients were used for illegal pharmaceutical tests.*
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She blinked. Her name tag read **"Nurse Amiah."** The hallway was long, pale green, and smelled like bleach, urine, and something rotting deep in the walls. The overhead lights buzzed and flickered, blinking in a rhythm that made her eye twitch.
She held a tray of meds. Pills of every shape and color.
Room 217. The name on the chart: *Daniel Kreel.*
She opened the door.
He was sitting upright, smiling too widely. Lips dry and stretched unnaturally across his face, like someone had cut the corners with a knife. He had no eyelids. Just wide, bulging eyes that didn't blink.
"Good morning, Nurse Amiah," he rasped.
She hesitated. "It's medication time."
He didn't move. Just kept smiling.
She stepped closer, holding out the tray.
Suddenly—he *snatched* her wrist.
"Are we *real* today?" he whispered.
A siren wailed somewhere in the facility. Red lights flashed.
She yanked free. Slammed the tray on the table. "Take your meds, Daniel."
The door locked behind her.
She spun. "What the hell—"
The room melted. The bed liquefied. The walls bled black ink.
Her uniform shifted—no longer clean white, but stained, covered in something thick and dark.
Hands erupted from the walls. Grabbing her. Dozens. Pulling.
She screamed as the hands *peeled* back her reality like skin.
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She woke up.
Same hallway. Same tray. Same room number.
*Again.*
Room 217.
Daniel Kreel.
Same smile.
This time, he said: "You're *stuck* now."
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Wake. Hallway. Tray. 217.
Again.
Again.
Again.
Her face twisted. Her eyes bloodshot. Her hands shook. The pills were moving. Crawling.
The chart was written in symbols she couldn't read.
A voice in her head whispered, "They're watching."
She looked up.
A camera above the door blinked red.
She ripped it off.
The wall screamed.
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Wake. Hallway. Tray. 217.
This time the hallway was *full of nurses*. All with her face. All smiling. All holding trays.
She dropped hers.
They turned.
One by one, their faces *peeled back*—revealing red muscle, twitching eyes, chattering teeth. One of them opened her mouth wide—
And Amiah was *sucked into it.*
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Wake.
Alone. Padded room.
She was strapped down.
In front of her—Daniel Kreel.
Still smiling.
"You're the patient now."
She screamed.
He pressed something into her hand.
A scalpel.
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She didn't even feel it as she carved into her own face.
She just wanted to see if she could *smile* like him.
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> **[Simulation 21 complete.]**
> **Subject terminated due to excessive neural trauma.**
> **Simulation memory successfully integrated.**
> **Loading next trauma...**
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