Henry paced back and forth in the hospital room nervously. He had walked that same floor hundreds of times before, following the same path as if he was on autopilot. His wife Christina Smith lay dead on the hospital bed with two gunshot wounds. One in her head, the other in her heart. Henry's memories blurred. Days felt like years as he stumbled through the week. Burying his only son and his wife on the same day was something Henry thought no man should have to go through. He looked at Christina's corpse and smiled to himself grimly. It wasn't a smile of happiness or joy, but rather, it was filled with darkness and pain. The nightmares had taken their toll on Henry's psyche. It was only a matter of time before he snapped. He just wanted everything to stop. He wanted to go back to his normal life with Christina. Henry wished he could turn back time.

   No such luck for a tired old man."It's time to wake up Henry..." He said to himself, walking to the door. "I'm sorry Christina..." Henry's whisper fell dead on the quiet room. "Don't look back... That's what you always told me, right honey?" He asked tearfully as he pushed through the door. Henry woke up in his bedroom, surrounded by a mess of discarded beer bottles and almost uneaten pizza. He dragged himself out of his mess of a room, and slowly trudged into the kitchen. Henry opened the fridge, causing some half-empty containers to spill out onto the floor. He ignored the mess and rummaged around for some food. After staring blankly at his empty refrigerator, Henry slowly realized that he didn't have anything to eat.

   He sighed, closed the fridge, and stumbled back into his bedroom. Henry couldn't tell whether he was hungover, or if his new medication was messing with his motor skills. He fell face first into the pile of bottles and stale pizza. "Thank God I don't have Life Alert..." Henry didn't even bother finishing his half-assed joke. Henry grabbed a stiff slice of pizza off of the floor and ate it, trying his best not to vomit. It was the equivalent of cardboard covered in ketchup and shreds of paper to simulate cheese. He choked it down and gagged slightly. "It's almost like I'm back in high school... At least this is somewhat edible." Henry muttered.

   Once he was sure that he wasn't going to be sick, Henry returned to the kitchen. Some week-old coffee and a newspaper from months before awaited him on the table. It was opened to the page with a short passage on Christina's death. Henry couldn't bring himself to read it again. He closed the newspaper to get the story out of his sight.

   In the days after Christina's death, Henry's physician signed him up for therapy sessions. Going to them was the only way to keep the police off of his back, according to Hayworth. Apparently, if Henry didn't agree and go to therapy, the police would have arrested him as their prime suspect in Christina's death. Henry figured that they were bluffing, but he didn't want to take that chance. Of course, there were new guidelines that stopped police from just arresting people on suspicion. Some guy sued the Supreme Court because he got arrested and spent a few months in federal prison because his twin brother murdered somebody. Henry thought it was hilarious.

   Therapy wasn't Henry's favorite thing in the world, even when it was voluntary. The therapists he had always pried into his past, and he had to relive the same horrible events over and over again for every counselor he talked to. Most of the time, therapists would drop him after a few months. It was always some stupid excuse like, "I got a better job," or "I'm pregnant," or something similar. Christina was the only person that truly supported Henry, without all of the bells and whistles that came with being a therapist. Now that she was gone, he had a hard time doing even the simplest tasks. Henry sat at the table and sipped the old coffee, before tossing it aside. Even eating and drinking had become mundane activities for him. The newspaper in front of him seemed to stare at Henry, judging even his slightest movements. It was almost as if the paper could see the mistakes Henry had made throughout his life. He picked up the paper, rolled it up, and put it on the bookshelf in the living room next to his extensive movie collection.

   Movies that he would watch with Christina, each title held a different meaning to him. Westerns, pirate movies, slasher films, dramas, literally any movie genre since late 2018 lined the shelves. Other families kept photo albums or journals. Henry and Christina had their movie collection. He could reach into the shelf and pull out a movie, immediately knowing when they watched it. He smiled to himself, for the first time in months. The happiness only lasted for a few moments, before turning into an even deeper feeling of emptiness. Henry wiped his eyes with his palm and sat down on the couch. He had an hour before his next appointment, but it took him a half hour to walk all the way to the office. There was so much to do before he left. Shower, a change of clothes, and the other basic human activities to cover up his depression. When he was younger, the principle of his school sent him to a few therapy sessions after noticing several signs of abuse.

   When his father caught wind of the appointments, he beat Henry more than he ever had before. Since then, therapy was out of the question as a solution to fix Henry's problems. He stood up and stumbled around his apartment, getting ready for therapy. After his shower, he put on a crisp business suit, the last one in his closet. It was his most treasured possession. By the time he was ready, he only had thirty-five minutes left.

   Henry sighed and pushed open his apartment door. The hall was empty. The silence was louder than his own thoughts. Any movement Henry made down the corridor echoed into the void. A voice whispered behind him, but when he turned around to face the speaker, there was nothing. "Soon... The Krystal King will rise... You will save us, Mr. Smith." The voice breathed into the wind. The cold air sent a shiver down Henry's spine. "It's... Probably just some kid, pulling their damn pranks... I'm onto you!" He warned halfheartedly. There wasn't anything around to warn except for the walls and carpeted floor.

   Shaking, Henry shrugged off the paranoia and forged on. He approached the elevator, and the lights flickered suddenly. "Y'know what? I think I'll just take the stairs." Henry said with a sheepish chuckle. Break the tension with a joke. That was Henry's motto. He veered away from the elevators and made his way down the stairs. Sure, it'd set him back a few minutes, but Henry had seen enough horror movies to spot a creepy possessed elevator when he saw one. "Ghosts are assholes. They're going around, possessing elevators and children. Being all spooky and going through walls... The bastards don't seem to care about consent, it's a serious problem. Gives feminists something else to bitch about..." Henry mumbled to himself casually.

   He walked down seven flights of stairs, beginning to snicker quietly at his horrible joke on the third flight. Once in the lobby, he quickly regained his composure. The lobby was almost emptier than the hallway. "Uh... Was there a party I didn't know about?" Henry asked into the emptiness. "I'm like the cool uncle that brings beer and drugs! Remember when cocaine was popular? God damn, I'm old..." He mumbled as he walked to the exit. Henry pushed the door open and walked through. "Okay if this is a prank, it's a REALLY bad one." He groaned. The "exit" led to another lobby. Everything was still in its original place. The doorman's desk was still cluttered with papers and a picture frame. Henry had re-entered the room from where the elevator doors were, but the door leading to the staircase was now closed.

   "I hope I died in my sleep, and this is Hell." Henry muttered as he attempted to exit the building again. "Oh, you have GOT to be kidding me." He was back in the lobby. There were a few minute differences, but they weren't really noticeable. Henry ran through the lobby again and burst through the exit door. Once again, he was back in the lobby. Henry let out a loud growling yell of frustration. The lobby changed more noticeably this time around. The carpet was gold and white instead of the normal shades of red. The entirety of the lobby had a fancy gold and white aesthetic."I don't think I'm in Kansas anymore..." Henry muttered. He pushed through the exit once again, and this time he was in complete darkness. "Yeah, that seems about right. Nothing wrong here." Henry remarked. He walked to the exit again, and he was back in the lobby. Except he was on the ceiling. "Great." He sighed. Henry walked toward the exit, and just as his hand made contact with the door handle, the lobby extended. "Really? You're kidding." Henry muttered under his breath as he ran after the door. The floor suddenly opened up underneath him, the darkness below swallowing him whole.

   Henry landed face first on the plush carpet with a loud "Oof". He was back on the floor. With a quick bounce, Henry was back on his feet. As he took a couple of steps forward, the room twisted and turned. "I've a favor to ask you, Mr. Smith." A robed man stepped out of the door that led to the stairway and stood in front of Henry. "Death? Oh my god, what took you so long?" Henry asked hopefully. The man remained silent. "Oh I get it, you gotta keep up the whole silent schtick. There wouldn't be so many analogies of silent death if you weren't well... Silent." Henry said in understanding. "It's not quite time. Not yet. Not for a while. When the time does come however... We will connect. Once we make the connection, our game can truly begin." The mysterious man crooned. He turned and walked away, pushing through the lobby exit. "Hey, wait!" Henry yelled after him. He chased the robed gentleman and burst through the door.

   "I hate this. If there's a God, he's a very sick man." Henry grumbled. "Where the hell did he go?" He asked himself. Henry dashed through the lobby, running past constants and variables. He took a moment to rest after about ten cycles, and he realized that the lobby had changed drastically. The lights were dim, and the wallpaper had peeled away to reveal the wooden wall. Blood lined the floor as if a body had been dragged across it, and the carpet was covered in hardened viscera. The walls began to tremble around him. A woman was screaming in unholy terror, and several gunshots fired off into the void. Henry held his head with one hand and fell to his knees as several powerful pains pulsated through his brain. His other hand shook furiously as he reached into his jacket pocket, and pulled out a blue cyan pill bottle. The top came off with a simple flick of his thumb. Henry dumped a small orange pill into his hand and swallowed it. He shuddered violently as the pain in his head increased phenomenally until it came to an abrupt stop.

   Henry took a deep, shaking breath before he stood. "I can't believe I forgot my Kaotine... I gotta keep better track of my medicine..." He said breathlessly, noticing that the lobby was normal again, but it was still oddly empty. There probably WAS a party that Henry wasn't invited to. After Henry took a moment to breathe, he exited the building and found himself on the street. The familiar sidewalk and buildings gave him a sense of relief. When Henry returned from the war, he spent quite a bit of time out in the cold. One tired morning, a group of teenagers had roughed him up for any valuables he had. When they were finished with him, they trashed him. Literally, they threw him in the dumpster. That was the first time Henry had given up. It was also the day he met his future wife-to-be, Christina. She helped him out of the dumpster, and gave him a warm place to stay. That was one of the best days of his life.

   Henry walked down the street, the pit of dread in his stomach only growing deeper. Any cars that were out, lined the sidewalks, at a complete stop. Normally, at this time of day, New New York was filled with busy commuters, rushing off to an office job or something just as bad as being trapped in a cubicle. Without the ambiance of city chatter, Henry could feel the sinking sensation of anxiety creep up his back. He quickened his step until he was almost running. He didn't stop until he got to the therapist's' office. Henry was starting to freak out, even the office was empty. Visions of the war flashed through his mind. Being left out of the bomb shelter, and having to hide under a destroyed building to survive. Being alone for hours at a time, unsure if someone was going to jump out at him and kill him. Being told that everything is fine, then being shot seconds later. Amidst the violent storm of horrid memories, Henry slammed his head against the stone wall, as if that would force the bad thoughts out. "Henry...? Henry!" A woman's voice snapped Henry out of his trance. His head snapped to attention, almost knocking into his counselor, Tana Rivers. She quickly pulled her own head away, letting out a small cry of surprise. "Henry... Are you having another attack? Take your Kaotine, it'll be-" "I just DID." Henry snapped, holding his head and stumbling back, his body contorting to match his fluid movements. "It... It didn't work?" Tana gasped. "Heh... You sound like you're surprised..." Henry mumbled. "Maybe amused? Ha ha... You counselor types are all sadistic assholes..." He said, chuckling in both physical and mental pain. Tana gave Henry a look that said: "I'm trying to help you, stop being so difficult". Seconds passed, but it felt like years as the two conversed with their eyes. As Henry began to calm down, he noticed several people in the waiting room around him, staring in fear.

   Tana put her hand on his shoulder, but Henry jumped back more until he was almost out of the clinic. "Come back to my office, we'll talk about it." She said soothingly as if she was talking to a small animal. He really didn't want to go with her, but Henry decided to go anyway. He nodded slowly and Tana led him to her small cushioned office. Scented candles lined the bookshelf, the desk, and there were a couple on the filing cabinets. Henry hated it. Tana took a seat at her desk, and Henry slowly sank into a large bean bag chair. "I... I think I'm stuck." He said, struggling to sit up properly. Tana laughed. "No, I'm seriously stuck... Why the hell do you have this for an ADULT THERAPY CLINIC?! I'm not FIVE." Henry snapped, wiggling in the chair.

   "Just, sit on the couch..." Tana said quietly, seemingly exasperated. Henry rolled out of the bean bag and crawled onto the couch. "So, what happened this morning, Henry?" Tana asked, pulling out a yellow notepad and fountain pen. "I don't know... I woke up, forgot to take my Kaotine, and started hallucinating. I took it when I realized what was wrong, but it only worked a little. Do I need a stronger dosage?" Henry explained. "Um... I think that's a question for Dr. Hayworth. Was there anything specific that triggered the attack?" Tana replied as she scribbled a few notes on her paper. Henry thought back to earlier that morning when he heard the whispers in the hallway. After thinking about it for a few moments, he decided that he wasn't going to tell her about them. "I'm not sure..." He lied.

   "Alright... Hmm... Tell me about Christina again." Tana requested, changing the subject. Henry suddenly grew quiet. "What's there to tell...? She was beautiful, we never argued or fought. We watched movies together, she took me in after the war... I loved her and I still do... Yet, everyone I thought I knew, suddenly turned on me saying I killed her... I have to live in isolation because of a stereotype that was around basically forever? When will people learn to let go?" Henry recited the same thing that he always said whenever Tana asked him about Christina. "You say that every time Henry. Tell me something else about her, like, what was she like?" Tana asked, pushing Henry to open up more. "You said like way too many times in that sentence." Henry stalled. "I only said it twice. Answer the question please." Tana sighed and rolled her eyes. Henry scowled and took a moment to respond. "She was nice... And she was smart..." He mumbled. Tana wrote more notes on her notepad and nodded slowly. "Yes? What else?" She asked.

   "Christina was the only good thing in my life... Now she's gone... You can't possibly know what that feels like... Having the only thing that's going right for you get ripped away in just a matter of seconds..." Henry trailed off and focused his vision on the wall behind Tana. He bit back a sob and cleared his throat. Tana continued to write, pretending that she didn't notice Henry's tears. "You can go now, Henry... Make sure to call Dr. Hayworth when you get home so you can see about getting a stronger dosage of Kaotine." She said absentmindedly. Henry stared at Tana for a minute, before he slowly got up and walked out of her office. The receptionist didn't stop him to make another appointment on the way out.

   It was raining out, but Henry didn't care. He walked the streets of New New York until he finally made his way home. Once inside his apartment, Henry tossed his jacket to one side and then threw himself onto the couch. He reached into the suit's pocket and pulled out a cellphone. It was a product of Genesis Corp, one of the largest companies in the world. They manufactured everything from drugs to food. The phone Henry held in his hand had some experimental tech in it that made it almost sentient. It was like one of those robot dogs that people use to get for their kids, except it wasn't a total pain in the ass 24/7.

   Henry pressed a button on the side, and the device beeped and whirred, the screen flickered to life and a cute smiling face stared at Henry lifelessly. "Howdy Customer G-38! How can Beep help you?" The phone asked. "Beep, call Dr. Hayworth," Henry ordered. Beep made a few sounds, and suddenly a large holographic screen popped up in Henry's face. Dr. Hayworth was facing away from the screen, hunched over a large lab table.

   "Dr. Hayworth? Hey... Liam!" Henry shouted, causing Liam to snap to attention. "Henry... I didn't see you there." He said calmly. "What can I do for you?" Liam turned around, wiping his hands with a white silk rag. Beep basically jumped out of Henry's hands and suspended itself in the air, making the hologram much larger, until it was life size. "I just got back from my appointment with Tana... She said to talk to you about a larger Kaotine dosage. I took it this morning, but the visions and hallucinations didn't calm down at all." Henry explained.

   Liam gave Henry a look. "Henry... Kaotine is a VERY experimental drug, I only just discovered it last month. There might be unintended side effects..." He warned. Henry sighed and lifted himself off of the couch, cracking his back and stretching. "Liam, I wouldn't ask you for something like this if I didn't think it was important. You owe me anyway." Henry retorted. "The war was a long time ago Henry. If you want something else, I'm happy to help, but I'm NOT willing to put you in danger." Liam replied, turning back to his work. "Just... At least help me sleep... The nightmares are getting worse, they're not even scary anymore, they're just... Annoying." Henry grabbed his jacket and folded it before tossing it into the air. A beam of light shot out of Beep, and the jacket floated over to the bathroom where the hamper was.

   Liam sighed and grabbed three chemicals. He mixed them together, heated them and poured the mixture in a metal box. The box hissed and whirred, shaking