Turning this page is the text of the note.

To be exact, this should be an interview with a psychiatrist, and since this man is so well-known in the industry, I have to keep his name secret so as not to reveal his true identity, and I can't call him by his first name, along with the hospital where he works.

For the sake of writing, I decided to call the hospital he worked at "Arkham Asylum", which anyone who knows a little bit about Batman will have heard of, and the hospital where our psychiatrist works does have some similarities with Arkham Asylum.

Most of the patients detained in this hospital are extremely vicious criminals, but the reason why they commit murder is not for money or profit, but mostly because they kill people just to satisfy some kind of pleasure in their hearts.

I will refer to the psychiatrist simply as a professor.

The interviews in this notebook were written between 1996 and 2004, and those interviewed by the professor were all the most violent thugs in the Arkham asylum, with blood on their hands, who were considered the most dangerous beings in the asylum by others, but who were of unparalleled research value in the eyes of the professor.

Before the interview, the professor gave these people nicknames based on their characteristics.

There were four people interviewed, and their nicknames were: Teapot, Cigarette, Engineer, and Priest.

The notes do not mention how these nicknames came from, but the professor wrote this note in the corner of the first sheet: "Before committing many crimes, they were all good men in the usual sense of the word, or gentlemen in the eyes of others, who lived in the same place, went mad on the same day, and saw the same 'doctor,' and it was that doctor who gave them a new identity, like these meaningless nicknames." ”

When the professor wrote this notebook, he used a pen that was quite close to the stream of consciousness, and many times I could only understand what he meant by imagining.

I think the last sentence of this note is that the new identity given to these people by doctors is as meaningless as their nicknames.

I read the notes in the corners of the paper before I started reading the text.

The first natural paragraph of the text is a very large headline: Who is the doctor they are talking about, and does this person exist only in their visions?

Two-thirds of the entire notebook is devoted to solving this puzzle, and in the interviews, all four people describe the doctor in a similar way, and I will only pick the interview with the "pastor" to talk about, because he is the most sober of the four, and the interview record related to him is also the most detailed.

Here's my reproduction of that interview, most of it from the notebook and some from my imagination.

The professor interviewed the priest on Christmas Day in 2003, when it was hail outside Arkham Asylum and there was a loud noise in the sky, and the professor went to the chaplain's ward under the protection of several medical staff.

That was the first time the professor had seen the priest, and in his imagination, this villain who had killed thirteen people should be a strong black-faced man, but when the priest stood in front of the professor, the professor couldn't help but be frightened.

This is an extremely thin man, the nurses wrapped him in a bondage suit, but you can still see clear joints in the bulging outline of the bondage suit, this man is almost thin into a skeleton, he is very weak, his back can barely straighten, but from his eyes, there is a chilling excitement.

The professor had seen countless madmen, but never had a man with the manic eyes of a priest like the priest.

The nurses anchored the priest to an iron chair, and the professor reached for his notebook and began his interview.

"I heard, you're sure you're not crazy?" The professor picked up a pen and asked the pastor.

The priest sat on the iron chair, easily shaking his legs dangling in the air, and responded with a smile: "Of course I'm not crazy, you are crazy, in this world, most people are crazy. ”

Many mentally ill people think that there is nothing wrong with them, and the problems are those who are so-called normal people, which is not uncommon for professors.

The professor grimaced the pastor's words and asked, "When did you meet the 'doctor'?" ”

The pastor said, "Only those who are chosen can see the 'doctor.'" ”

Sidestep the question.

The professor sighed inwardly and changed the question: "Tell me about the 'doctor'." ”

"Do you know why we call him Doctor?"

"I've heard people say why, but I'd like to hear you again."

"Because he is saving the world, our world is full of sick sores, and only doctors can get rid of those sick sores!"

Sure enough, the answer given by the pastor was the same as the previous three people.

The professor tapped his fingers on the table, and the other hand looked at the contents of the notes, the answers given by these four people turned out to be exactly the same, this does not seem to be a simple coincidence, and there is no suspicion of collusion, could it be that the doctor in their mouth is real?

No, that's ridiculous.

The professor shook his head, denying his thoughts, and then he spread his hands to the priest again, "You go on." ”

The priest raised his head, closed his eyes, and fell into a long memory.

It was a long time before he looked at the professor with those crazy eyes, and said: "Six years ago in the late autumn, it was raining heavily, and the old chandelier in the house kept flickering and making a sizzling sound, and I felt the doctor's presence for the first time, I didn't see him, but I could feel him. ”

The professor was too lazy to write down the pastor's words in his notebook, for what he was saying now was much the same as the previous three.

But then the pastor said something the professor hadn't heard before.

The pastor said that at first he was sitting on the couch through a refrigerator door, and he heard the beer bottles in the refrigerator tremble and shatter the glass, and the chandelier on the roof flickered and swayed.

But the ground is very stable.

It wasn't an earthquake, there was no wind in the house, and it was as if an invisible hand was fiddling with the chandelier and the beer bottles in the fridge.

The priest stood up and looked at the chandelier closely, and as he stared at the lamp, the cord immediately returned to stability, only the light continued to flicker.

Looking at the flickering lights, the priest felt his spirit become a little dazed, he shook his head, and then walked to the refrigerator, trying to open the door.

Syllable!

There was a sudden crisp sound behind him, the filament of the chandelier was flashed, and it was raining outside the house, and the room was suddenly darkened.

At this moment, the priest's hand fell on the handle of the refrigerator door, and the sound of the filament exploding made his wrist tremble, and the refrigerator door was torn open with a narrow slit.

The light that came out of this gap took on an unusually vivid red, as if it was not a light that fell on the floor, but a trail of blood that had been sprinkled on the ground.