The first time it appeared, the blood on Theodore's hands hadn't even dried.
The street outside his house was quiet, blanketed in the kind of silence that only followed violence. He had just killed the last of them, thirteen in total, and stood still among the wreckage of something that could never be undone.
Then, it came.
Without sound or warning, it flickered into view before him- an ethereal display hovering midair, glowing faintly with a strange bluish light. Letters, neat and clinical, began to form.
[SYSTEM INITIALIZED]
[Welcome to the Mirror System.]
[Task Complete: Eliminate Threat.]
[New Task: Investigate.]
Theodore tilted his head.
"Mirror System?" he repeated quietly. He waited, as if expecting an answer, but the system offered none.
The name confused him. Mirror? He hadn't looked into one in days.
He didn't know what the system was or where it came from. But from the moment it appeared, it refused to leave. Even when he blinked, even when he shut his eyes, the display remained, burned into his vision like an afterimage.
And then the system showed him something else.
A list.
Thirteen names, all of them carefully archived under a heading called Mental Archive. There were short profiles, little glimpses into their lives, their movements, their secrets. Some of the data was from surveillance, some from articles, and some, disturbingly, seemed to come from Theodore's own memory. He didn't understand how it accessed them. But he knew the names. Every one of them.
They were the same thirteen men he had killed.
He remembered browsing the list hours before the police arrived, sitting quietly in his kitchen while blood pooled beneath the floorboards.
He studied the names, the profiles, the timelines. Not because he doubted their guilt, but because it made the burden a little easier to carry. The system had organized them for him, as if confirming that what he did was part of something larger.
Theodore hadn't killed at random. Each of those men had played a part in the destruction of his mother, once a gentle woman with a soft voice, who had slowly become a ghost of herself after his father left. She fell into a life she never asked for- a life pushed on her by necessity and then by force.
They used her, humiliated her, and stripped her of every shred of dignity. She became a shadow, surviving behind alley doors and heavy makeup, while the men who ruined her dined in the city's finest halls.
No one saved her.
So Theodore did what no one else would.
He hunted them. One by one.
The system helped him. It guided him. It showed him things he couldn't explain- patterns between people and hidden links, traces of old files no longer stored in any official record. And once he was finished, once the last of their files were scoured, the system calmly displayed its next instruction:
[Task: Escape.]
But he didn't escape.
Theodore had no reason to run. When they arrested him, he offered no resistance. They dragged him out of the tunnel beneath Mirevale like a dog that had lost its bite. The media swarmed. He became a villain overnight, a madman with a pleasant face.
No one asked why. No one wanted to hear the truth.
And so, he was placed here inside the Mirevale Psychiatric Institute.
To the world, it was a victory. The killer was locked away.
Case closed.
But the system never left.
It hovered in the corner of his vision even now, watching him as he laid on the pristine white bed, or ate his meals in silence. Day and night, the same soft glow followed him like a ghost.
He read it every morning, as casually as someone might check the weather.
But he hadn't obeyed.
Not yet.
The food here was better than he expected- warm, well-cooked, occasionally even flavorful. The bedding was clean and soft, and the nurses were distant but polite. Most importantly, he didn't hear screams at night anymore. Not hers.
Theodore sat in his usual spot- back straight, one leg crossed over the other, his hands resting calmly on his lap. He looked every bit the composed gentleman, except for his eyes, which flickered with that same unsettling energy, darting to the corners of the room as if watching things no one else could see.
Dr. Marris smiled gently as she took her seat across from him, notebook in hand. "How are you today, Theodore?"
"Rested," he replied. "And you?"
"I'm doing well. Thank you for asking."
A brief silence settled between them. Then Theodore leaned forward slightly, curious.
"Do you enjoy psychology?" he asked, his tone light and polite, as if making small talk at a café rather than behind locked institutional doors.
Dr. Marris nodded without hesitation. "Very much. Understanding how people think, how they feel... it's always fascinated me."
He tilted his head at her answer, considering it.
"So you enjoy sorting through the chaos of people's emotions?"
She laughed softly. "Not sorting, exactly. But understanding? Yes. There's meaning behind every behavior, even if it's difficult to see at first."
Theodore's lips curled into the faintest smile. "And you believe people can be understood, truly?"
"Most of the time, yes. With patience."
His eyes studied her, as if peeling back the layers of her face.
"What about those who no longer understand themselves?"
Dr. Marris's smile faded just slightly. "They're the ones who need the most patience."
Theodore nodded, as if satisfied with that answer, and leaned back once more. He said nothing for a while, letting the silence stretch before glancing at the clock on the wall.
"Before our time ends," he said, his tone casual, "do you have a book on psychology? Anything light, perhaps. Something I can read in the evenings. I'd like to… pass the time productively."
The request caught her off guard for a moment. It was the first time he'd asked for anything unrelated to their conversations. She blinked, then smiled again, a bit warmer this time. "I can find something for you, yes."
"Thank you, I'd appreciate it."
As she stood and gathered her notes, preparing to leave, he offered her one last glance.
"Until tomorrow, Dr. Marris."
"Until tomorrow, Theodore."
And as the door shut quietly behind her, the soft glow of the system flickered back into view. Still there. Still waiting.
[Task: Escape.]