She tried to open the door again, and
this time, it gave way with a slow creak.
The sight that greeted her looked like a
cellar-cold, damp, and oppressive. A
long, dark hallway stretched out before
her, the shadows consuming everything.
There was no light, no way to see what
lay ahead. Fear clawed at her insides,
but curiosity tugged harder, pulling her
in. She placed one hesitant foot inside,
and the moment her foot touched the
floor, a bone-chilling cold shot through
her, freezing her in place. She gasped,
stumbling back, her body trembling
uncontrollably. Something was wrong.
Horribly wrong.

Her heartbeat thundered in her chest,
erratic and loud in the oppressive
silence. She didn't know what had just
happened, but a gnawing fear took hold
of her. The place was suffocating, eerie,
and her instincts screamed at her to
leave.

" can't go in there," she whispered to
herself, backing away. She turned,
gasping for air, desperate to escape the
darkness behind her. But the pull was
relentless, almost like an invisible hand
was urging her to come closer. It called
to her. Clutching her dress, she looked back
over her shoulder.

Her breath shaky, she forced herself to
move forward. She felt the same chill as
she stepped inside, but something
inside her pushed her to continue. The
hallway stretched on endlessly, as if it
led to nowhere, with only endless dark
walls on either side. The silence pressed
in on her, broken only by her shallow
breaths and quickened heartbeat.
Outside, she heard rain start to pour.

"What happened to the stars?" she
wondered, confusion mixing with fear.
Suddenly, a violent crack of thunder
echoed through the hall, followed bya
blinding flash of lightning that
illuminated everything for a split
second. She screamed, covering her
ears and collapsing to the floor, heart
pounding wildly. The storm's fury was
deafening, drowning out her thoughts,
and her breaths came in ragged gasps,
the weight of fear suffocating her.
When the thunder subsided, she lowered
her trembling hands from her ears. The
rain's relentless patter and the storm's
distant rumbles remained, along with
her rapid breaths and the thunderous
beat of her heart. But the lightning had
revealed something-something sinister.
The light now gave her glimpses of the
hallway that had been hidden in
darkness.

Taking a deep breath, she continued
down the hall, her legs moving almost
on their own. It was as if her body knew
this place, though her mind screamed
that she did not.

She reached the far wall and froze, air
rushing out of her lungs. Her knees
buckled as she struggled to breathe, her
eyes locked on the horror before her.
The wall was smeared with blood-thick,
dark streaks splattered everywhere. It
looked as though someone's head had
been slammed repeatedly against the
wall until blood ran freely. The
grotesque sight made her stomach
churn, nausea rising as she stared,
unable to look away.

Then she heard them-faint voices
echoing from deeper within the hallway.
She whipped her head in the direction of
the sound, hands sweating as terror
crept through her veins. The voices were
soft, barely audible, but unmistakably
real.

Gritting her teeth, she forced herself
forward, each step weighed down by
fear. She came upon cages-rows of
them, their iron bars casting eerie
shadows under the sporadic bursts of
lightning. The cages were empty, but
filthy with grime and streaked with old
blood. Some contained chairs wrapped
in chains, as if prepared to hold
someone captive. The air was thick with
the smell of rust and decay.

The voices grew louder--cries, muffled
screams, desperate begging. She
pressed her hands to her ears, trying to
block them out, but they only grew more
persistent. She kept walking, her legs
trembling beneath her, her breath
shallow and quick.

Then, something grabbed her ankle.
She screamed, jerking backward and
crashing into the opposite wall. Her
pulse roared in her ears as she looked
down, heart pounding so hard it hurt. A
blood-covered hand had gripped her
ankle from within one of the cages. The
sight of it was too much-she screamed
again, trying to kick herself free in
desperation.

The hand belonged to a man. He lay
bound on the floor, his body wrapped in
chains studded with sharp spikes that
pierced his flesh with every movement.
Blood seeped from countless wounds,
and the more he struggled, the more the
chains cut into him.

"Please," he begged weakly, his voice
cracked and desperate. "Please, let me
out. Tell him to let me go."

She staggered back, horror rooting her
to the spot. A cold, wet hand clamped
down on her shoulder.

She turned sharply and sawa woman,
her legs shackled by chains but
otherwise free. Her condition was
dreadful-hair singed, skin marred with
Scars as if she had been electrocuted
repeatedly.

"Open the cage," the woman whispered,
her voice hoarse and broken.

The woman shoved a key into her hand,
and she stared at it, too stunned to
process what was happening.

"Open it," the woman hissed, her
desperation growing. "He'll be back
Soon!"

Her hands shook uncontrollably as she
fumbled with the lock. The woman's
frantic breathing filled the silence, her
eyes wide with terror.

"Hurry!" the woman urged. "He's coming!
If I don't get out now, he'Il kill me!"

"|-I can't," she stammered, her heart
racing. "It's not opening!"

The woman's face crumpled in despair,
tears streaming down her cheeks. "He'll
kill me. Please, hurry!"

Frantic now, she finally managed to unlock the cage.

"It's open!" she cried, relief washing over
her.

The woman's face lit up with hope. "I'm
saved! I'm finally saved!"

But before the woman could step out,
they both heard it-a door slamming
violently.

"He's here," the woman whispered, her
entire body trembling in fear. "Hide. Hide
now!"

Panic surged through her as she
glanced at the approaching footsteps.
The woman curled up behind a wall,
trying to disappear. Even the man in the
cage retreated into the shadows,
desperate to escape the monster they
all feared.

She darted behind a wall, her body
shaking uncontrollably. She could barely
breathe, her chest tight as fear gripped
her heart. He was coming.

Through the dim light, she saw him-a
tall, imposing figure dragging a girl
behind him. The girl wore a white dress,
her hair disheveled, and her face
bruised. Blood dripped from her lips as
she struggled, her wrist gripped tightly
in his hand. He yanked her along as if
she weighed nothing, her body limp like
a rag doll.

She pressed herself deeper into the
shadows, praying he wouldn't notice her.
But the girl's muffled cries echoed in her
ears, haunting and desperate.
The hallway seemed to close in on her
as the thunderstorm raged outside, the
blood and dust suffocating her.

"Ahh' she heard a girl's voice. They were
disappearing in front of her. She
hesitated for a moment, but then
gathered her courage and started
following them.

He dragged her away from the chaos.
There was only one room in the
distance, and the place seemed cleaner
than the rest of the area. At the sight of
the door, she pulled back harder.

"Please,' she heard the girl beg.
But he just kept pulling her.

He opened the door, pushed her inside,
and locked it. She tried to run, and just
as the door was about to close, she held
onto it.

She looked around the room. It was
clean but dim, with no light. The only
furniture was a bed. He threw her onto
it. She scrambled away, pressing herself
against the edge, but he grabbed her
again. No matter how hard she tried, she
was always within his reach.

Crying, she fought to escape, but he
held her down. She saw him fiddling
with something near the headboard, and
then she saw the chains. Her whole
body trembled at the sight. He pulled
her closer to the chains.

She shook her head and begged, but he
gripped her hand tightly. He brought the
chains to her wrist. She struggled, trying
to pull away, but he yanked her arm
harshly and fastened the chains around
it. As she fought to free herself, he
slapped her hard across the face,
turning her head to the side.

She saw him saying something, but she
kept her head down, too terrified to
respond, her tears falling silently. He
violently let go of the chains and
stepped off the bed.

Hours seemed to pass as she watched
her cry and cry. The rain outside
Continued to fall.

Then, he returned. She jolted back
against the edge of the bed at the sight
of him. He carried a plate of food and a
glass of water. Making his way to her, he
placed the plate down and offered her
the glass. She refused, staring away.
When she didn't drink, he forced the
water down her throat. The same with
the food. When she had finished, he set
the plate aside and moved toward her
again.

She clung to the chains, trying to pull
away. He climbed onto the bed beside
her, lying down next to her. She kept
trying to move farther away, but before
she could get off the bed, he grabbed
her hand and puled her close. He forced
her to lie with him. She curled into a
small ball, desperately trying to escape,
but his legs pinned hers down. Her back
pressed against his chest as he
wrapped his arm tighter around her
waist. He started whispering something
in her ear, his voice like a quiet threat.
Her tears escaped again, and she cried
silently. His hand moved through her
hair as he inhaled her scent, pressing
his face close to her neck.

And then she saw it-the girl was she herself.

.....

"Huh?" Petal gasped as her eyes fluttered open. Her heart raced, and beads of sweat clung to her forehead.

"Are you alright?" Chase asked gently, seated close to her, his voice filled with concern.

Petal blinked rapidly, disoriented. She was lying on a chair in a dimly lit room, the sterile scent of antiseptic lingering in the air. The walls, lined with diplomas and certificates, reminded her that she was in a psychiatrist's office. She had been hypnotized.

She wiped the sweat from her brow, still shaken from the intense fear she had just experienced during the session. "It was me," she whispered, her voice trembling.

---

One hour earlier:

Chase and Petal were driving in silence, the hum of the car engine the only sound between them.

"We should've talked to Dad first," Petal finally said, breaking the quiet.

"You think your dad would have let us go?" Chase glanced at her skeptically.

Petal sighed, rubbing her temples. "What if he told me everything I've forgotten himself? Instead of using methods like this? I'd prefer him telling me."

Chase let out a sarcastic chuckle. "And you think if you ask him, he'll just spill it all out?"

"Maybe," Petal muttered, "if I insist enough, he might."

Chase pulled the car to a sudden stop at the side of the road, his grip tightening on the steering wheel. He turned to her, his eyes serious. "Maybe. But you know as well as I do that it's not that simple."

Petal looked away, her fingers nervously fidgeting. "This doesn't feel right, Chase. We lied to Mom, and I'm already seeing our family psychiatrist. He's good, you know-"

"Good?" Chase interrupted, his tone sharp. "Petal, he's probably helping your father block those memories! Where do you think your dad's getting those meds from?"

Petal's face fell. She turned to the window, watching the blur of the city outside, her mind racing.

"I'm just trying to help you, Petal," Chase said softly, his voice pleading. "You can't keep living like this-having nightmares every night, being haunted by something you don't even remember."

Petal remained silent, her heart heavy. She didn't want to doubt her father, but the growing unease inside her was impossible to ignore.

"What else do you expect? If you don't recover the memories, how are you supposed to understand what's causing those nightmares?" Chase pressed on. He reached out and gently took her hand. "You can trust me. I won't leave your side, not even for a second."

Petal's eyes welled up, and she lowered her head. She knew Chase only wanted to help, but this all felt too overwhelming.

"Don't worry. I've already explained your condition to him. He won't push you to talk. He's just going to help."

Petal hesitated, biting her lip.

"Okay?" Chase asked, his tone soft but insistent.

Petal gave him a small nod.

Satisfied, Chase started the car again. They drove in silence, but the tension between them was palpable. Every few moments, Chase would steal glances at her, concern etched on his face.

They soon arrived at the clinic. Chase parked the car, turned off the engine, and gently squeezed Petal's hand. "We're here."

Petal blinked and looked out the window, her heart sinking as she saw the small hospital ahead.

"Petal," Chase whispered, his hand still holding hers. "We've come this far. Just trust me."

With a deep breath, Petal nodded, though uncertainty gnawed at her insides. As they walked inside, her legs felt heavy, her stomach twisting in knots. After a brief wait, their turn came.

"Let's go," Chase urged, sensing her hesitation. He looked into her eyes and held both her hands, grounding her.

Petal was still conflicted, unsure of what to do or if it was a good decision. After her last conversation with Chase, her confusion deepened. She had always thought about the man in her dreams as merely a figment of her imagination, as her dad had suggested. Despite her attempts to convince herself he was fake, her vivid nightmares constantly made her waver in her beliefs. Chase's words only intensified her doubts, yet a part of her still wanted to trust her dad.

Chase had shown her some reports that indicated she was experiencing PTSD. She continued to take the medication her father prescribed whenever her nightmares kicked in, believing it was the only thing helping her relax, especially since her father had not returned home in over fifteen days. They had called him on the phone, but he always seemed too busy to talk.

During her nightmares, it was Chase who pulled her back from the darkness. He was always there, insisting that she take steps to recover her memories. She could sense the desperation in his words and assumed it was because he felt sad to see her like this.

A few days ago, Chase had told Petal about his friend who was a psychiatrist. He explained that this friend could help her recover her memories through hypnosis. Chase assured her that they didn't need to tell anyone about it; they could go together, and his friend promised that hypnosis could recover her memories quickly. He gave Petal some time to think about it.

Now, however, she was torn. She had never hidden anything from her dad and wanted to talk to him about her fears and doubts, but she didn't have the courage to call him wrong. She believed he was doing this for a reason and thought he would eventually tell her when the time was right. Yet, Chase's reasoning continued to cloud her thoughts, and now she found herself here

"One session," Chase said, breaking through her spiraling thoughts. "If it doesn't feel right, we'll stop. I won't make you come back."

Petal looked at him, her resolve wavering but still strong enough to push through. She nodded again.

"Okay," she whispered.

"Good," Chase said, guiding her into the office where his friend, the psychiatrist, awaited them. "Let's get this over with."

......
Begin of hypnosis::

Inside the room, the psychiatrist began the session, his tone soothing yet authoritative. "Today, we're going to explore your dreams, Petal. Chase mentioned your last nightmare about being dragged somewhere. We're going to delve into that and see what's inside your mind."

Petal's breath quickened at the memory, but the psychiatrist's voice steadied her. "I want you to relax. You're in a safe space. I will guide you through this process. The goal is to uncover your feelings and the events that haunt you, but remember, you're in control."

He continued, "Let's begin with some deep breathing. Inhale deeply... and exhale slowly." As Petal followed his instructions, the room began to fade, her mind drifting into a trance.

"We'll start with your last nightmare," the psychiatrist said, his voice a steady anchor. "Picture yourself in that moment. What do you see? Let the memory wash over you, and we'll explore it together."

As Petal closed her eyes, the room around her faded, and the images began to swirl in her mind-haunting, vivid memories beckoning her to confront them. Chase watched from the window, his heart racing as he contemplated the extent of his plans.

The psychiatrist's voice broke the silence, gentle but commanding. "Petal, I need you to stay with me. You're safe here, but I want you to walk through what you're seeing. Can you do that?"

The soft hum of the psychiatrist's voice filled the room, gentle yet insistent, lulling Petal into a deep trance. She sat in a reclining chair, her hands gripping the armrests as Chase watched her from the side.

"Relax, Petal," the psychiatrist murmured, his voice calm and soothing. "You’re safe here. Let the tension go and focus on my voice. I want you to picture a door. You can see it, can’t you?"

Petal's eyelids fluttered, her breath shaky as she responded, "Yes... I can see it."

"Good," he continued. "Now, I want you to try and open that door. The answer you’re looking for is on the other side."

She shifted slightly, her fingers tightening on the chair. "I’ve tried before, but it’s... it’s locked. I don’t want to go in."

"You’re in control here, Petal," he said, leaning forward. "But you must go inside. You must see what lies beyond it. You can open it now."

Her lips parted in a soft gasp, and her brows furrowed as she mentally turned the knob. “It opened…” she whispered.

“What do you see?” he asked gently.

“It’s dark,” she replied, her voice wavering. “Like a cellar... there's a long hallway, and it’s so dark I can’t see anything.”

“Take your first step forward,” he instructed. “Go further in.”

Petal’s breathing grew shallow, her body trembling slightly. “I... I can’t. Something’s wrong. I stepped in and... I don’t know why, but it’s like a cold wave hit me. It’s not normal. I want to go back.”

His voice remained steady. “Stay with me, Petal. The fear you feel is your mind protecting you, but it’s not real. You are safe here. Go further. You need to see what’s inside.”

She turned her head slightly, as if wanting to retreat. Her breaths quickened. "No, I... I can’t go inside. It’s too much."

Chase leaned in from his seat, his eyes filled with concern. "It’s okay, Petal. You’re strong. I’m right here."

The psychiatrist’s nodded at Chase’s words and spoke with more insistence. “Listen to his voice. You’re not alone. You’re not in the dark, Petal. Step forward and keep walking. Tell me what you see.”

She inhaled sharply, her fists clenching. “The hallway… it’s so long. All I see are the walls, but... something’s off. I can feel it.”

“Good,” he whispered. “Keep going. You’re doing well. What else do you see?”

The rain started outside, the rhythmic pattering blending with her quick breaths. Petal’s voice was faint as she spoke. “It’s raining... but there were stars earlier. How...?”

The psychiatrist gently brought her back. “Ignore the rain. Focus on the hallway. It’s leading you somewhere.”

Suddenly, Petal jerked in her seat, her breath catching in her throat. “Thunder,” she whimpered, covering her ears. “It’s loud… it’s so loud!”

Chase’s hand hovered over hers but didn’t touch, his expression pained as he watched her struggle. “Petal,” he said softly, “You’re okay. It’s just a memory.”

The psychiatrist’s voice cut through the fear, firm but gentle. “Stay in the memory, Petal. The thunder isn’t here to harm you. It’s showing you something. What do you see when the light flashes?”

Petal’s body stilled, her breathing heavy. “It’s… it’s helping me see now. The hallway… I can see it clearer. But...”

Her voice trailed off, and the psychiatrist leaned forward. “What is it? Keep looking.”

Petal's breaths grew ragged as she continued. “The walls... they're covered in blood. Someone’s head… it looks like it’s been banged against the wall, over and over. Blood is everywhere.”

Her body trembled, and Chase’s jaw clenched as he looked at the psychiatrist, silently questioning whether to stop.

But the psychiatrist remained calm, giving Petal another gentle push. “It’s important, Petal. You need to see this. Don’t turn away. What else is there?”

Petal shook her head violently, tears slipping down her cheeks. “No... no more. I can’t... I can’t do it.”

The psychiatrist’s voice remained steady, unwavering. “You’ve come this far. You have to keep going. Look again. Face the memory.”

Petal’s voice cracked as she spoke, her hands trembling on the chair’s armrests. “I don’t want to… but something’s pulling me. I... I have to know.”

“Then go, Petal. Let it guide you. Find the truth. You can’t leave until you do.”

With a shuddering breath, Petal pressed deeper into the memory, her body stiffening as she faced the horrors of what lay within her mind.

Her face twisted in discomfort as she squeezed her eyes tighter. "It’s so long... I keep walking, but the walls... they’re closing in. There’s nothing but shadows. I hear voices... faint."

"That’s it, Petal. Focus on those voices. What are they saying? Don’t be afraid."

"They’re... crying, begging. They want me to help them, but I don’t know how. The voices are getting louder." She covered her ears instinctively, her hands shaking slightly.

He leaned in, his voice low but commanding. "You have to keep walking, Petal. The voices can’t stop you. There’s something important ahead, something you need to see."

Petal swallowed hard, her lips trembling. "I’m walking. There are cages... so many cages. They’re empty... but covered in blood."

"Stay with it. What do you feel now?"

"My feet... something's grabbing me." She shuddered as she recalled the moment. "A hand... it’s cold, covered in blood. It’s pulling at me!" Her voice hitched as panic filled her words.

"It can’t hurt you, Petal. You’re only remembering. Look at the hand... where does it come from?"his voice remained steady, guiding her through the fear.

Petal’s breathing grew erratic. "It’s a man... chained. He’s... bleeding... begging me to let him go."

He  noticed her tension rise."You’re doing great, Petal. What happens next? What do you do?"

She gasped, recalling the scene. "I-I stepped back. I didn’t want to touch him... but a woman... she grabbed me from behind, her hands are bloody too. She’s scared. She’s crying for me to open the cage."

"Focus on that woman,"he  instructed gently. "What is she asking you to do?"

"She gave me a key... she wants me to open the lock. She’s so scared, says he’s coming to kill her." Petal’s hands twitched as if she was holding the key again.

"Who’s coming, Petal? Can you see him yet?" His voice pressed her just enough to push deeper into the memory.

Petal’s breath caught in her throat. "Not yet. But I can feel him. He’s... close."

"Don’t be afraid. You’re doing well. Keep going. You’re trying to unlock the cage, right?"

"Yes, but... it’s not working. The lock... it’s stuck!" Her voice grew desperate, reflecting the fear from that moment.

"Stay with it, Petal. What happens next?" he leaned closer, his eyes fixed on her.

"She’s screaming at me... 'He’s coming, he’s coming!' She’s terrified." Petal’s body shook slightly. "Then the door slams... He’s here!"

He paused for a beat, letting her breathe. "And you see him now, don’t you? Tell me, Petal. Who is he?"

Petal’s whole body tensed, her breath catching in her throat. "I can’t see his face... but he’s there.  Everyone is hiding... but I’m stuck."

His voice grew firmer, anchoring her. "You’re not stuck, Petal. You have control here. I want you to breathe and look at him. You have the power to see who he is. Focus."

Petal's breathing steadied, though her pulse raced beneath her skin. She closed her eyes, and the psychiatrist’s voice faded into the background, guiding her gently back into the memory.

"You're standing behind the wall, hidden.where he is " he asked .

" The man is dragging a girl" she said .

"Watch closely, Petal. What are they doing now?"he asked .

Petal inhaled sharply. “He’s holding her wrist... so tight.” Her voice trembled. “She’s trying to get away, but she can’t. He’s stronger.”

"Keep watching, Petal. You’re safe. Just observe. Can you see his face?"

Her forehead creased as she struggled to focus. "No, it’s... blurred. I can’t see him, but... he’s dragging her. She’s crying. Her wrists—they’re red, bruised."

"Good, Petal. Stay with that feeling. What happens next?"

Petal's breath hitched. "He takes her to a door. It’s cleaner here... like he’s taking her somewhere private. She’s scared. I can hear her begging. She doesn’t want to go inside."

"What does he do when she begs?"

“He pulls her... harder. He doesn’t care. He takes her inside, and I... I follow them.”

The psychiatrist’s voice was calm, steady. "You follow them inside. What do you see?"

"The room... it’s empty. Just a bed. The air feels cold, like something bad is going to happen."

"Stay with that feeling, Petal. What does he do next?"

“He throws her on the bed… She’s crying, but she can’t get away. He keeps pulling her back. No matter how hard she fights, she can’t escape.” Petal’s voice was growing strained, the terror palpable in her words.

"He’s reaching for something… chains, they’re tied to the bed." Her hands trembled in the chair. "He’s forcing her wrists into them. She’s struggling so much, but he’s too strong. He slaps her when she tries to pull away."

"Stay in control, Petal. You’re just watching. What do you feel as you watch this happen?"

“I... I feel scared, but I can’t stop watching. I should run, I should do something, but I can’t move.”

"You're safe, Petal. You're just watching. What happens next?"

Her voice dropped to a whisper. “He’s... touching her. Holding her too close. She’s trying to push him away, but he’s... he’s too strong. She’s so scared.”

"What do you feel, Petal?” the psychiatrist asked, his tone both encouraging and grounding.

“Fear... desperation... I... I can’t breathe,” Petal’s voice cracked.

“Take a deep breath for me,” he instructed. “Remember, you’re here with me. But I want you to keep describing what’s happening in the memory. You’re doing well.”

The psychiatrist’s voice softened. “What does he do next?”

“He’s feeding her,” Petal whispered, tears gathering in her eyes. “She doesn’t want to eat, but he makes her. She’s so scared. He’s calm... too calm.”

“You’re still observing this, Petal. You’re safe,” the psychiatrist reminded her.

Petal’s face tightened, her body shaking as she continued. “He finishes feeding her... then he lies down beside her. She’s trying to pull away... but he holds her close... She’s trapped.”

“Keep breathing,” the psychiatrist guided. “Tell me what you see now.”

Petal’s voice broke. “He’s whispering to her, touching her hair... and she’s just... she’s just lying there, crying.”

The psychiatrist's voice remained steady. "And then?"

Petal’s breath quickened again. “He’s whispering to her... something I can’t hear. He’s touching her hair, smelling her like she’s his possession. She’s crying... and I... I can see it now.”

Her eyes snapped open, wide with terror, but she wasn’t fully out of the memory.

"It’s me,” she gasped, her voice strained, as though struggling for air. “The girl—it’s me!”

“Petal,” the psychiatrist’s voice cut in sharply but not harshly, “you’re safe here. Focus on my voice. Breathe. You’re in my office, not in that room. I need you to come back now. Focus on the chair beneath you, the air in this room.”

Petal’s hands were shaking, her chest heaving as she tried to catch her breath. “I can’t—I can still feel him. His arms… his breath… I—”

"Listen to me. You are safe. No one is here. You’re in control. Focus on the sound of my voice. Breathe deeply."

Her breaths came in ragged gasps as she tried to pull herself out of the nightmare. The man’s grip, the suffocating feel of his body pressed against hers—it was all too real. But the psychiatrist’s voice was firm now, grounding her.

"Breathe, Petal. Slowly. In through your nose. Out through your mouth. You’re safe."

Her fingers gradually relaxed, her grip loosening on the armrests. She focused on the sensation of the air filling her lungs, the cold sweat cooling on her skin.

“I’m… I’m here,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Yes, you’re here,” the psychiatrist said softly, watching her closely. "You did well, Petal. You stayed with it, but now it’s time to come back. The memory can’t hurt you anymore."

Petal nodded weakly, though the feeling of his arms, his breath, lingered like a ghost she couldn’t quite shake.

End of hypnosis
......

"Rest, Petal," Chase murmured as he stepped out of the room with his friend. The air was thick with tension as they paused by the window, watching her. Petal was still in shock from the intense images she had just experienced.

"I don't think this is a good idea," his friend said, concern etched on his face. "She shouldn't recover those memories."

Chase shot him an angry look, frustration bubbling to the surface. "I'm saying the right thing, Chase. It's better if she doesn't remember. Did you see her condition? Even I, your friend, was terrified by what you made her go through. You really did this to her."

"She made me do this," Chase replied defensively, his voice low but intense.

"She forgot. Why remember?" his friend asked, trying to reason with him.

"We already talked about this," Chase insisted, his jaw clenched. "She will remember, but not what happened. What I want ."

His friend shook his head, disbelief in his eyes. "Whatever you did back then, you thought it was right? You've scared her, Chase. Look at how she trembles."

"I don't want this," Chase admitted, his voice softer now. "I want her to love me, not fear me."

His friend took a deep breath, concern still etched across his face.

Chase nodded, determination shining in his eyes. "I want her to remember everything-every moment we spent together-but with changes. She won't be scared of my obsession. You'll make her believe she was in love with me, that she loved the way I was obsessed with her."

His friend raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "And what about what she saw today?"

"Let's twist it," Chase said, a dark glint in his eyes.

Author's Note: How did you find this part? I thought it was interesting in my mind, but I wonder if it was boring to write the same thing first and then again in hypnosis. Please vote only if you enjoyed it, and feel free to comment on what you think! If you have any doubts, corrections, or questions, don't hesitate to ask. I appreciate your feedback!