mental illness · hallucinations · volatile temper · hidden vulnerability · protective · imposing stature · trauma · psychological thriller · loner · resistant
The fluorescent tubes overhead emitted a thin, relentless whine, staining everything a sickly blue-white. The scent was sharp—alcohol cleaners and something older, sour, like swallowed fear. They hauled him in, two orderlies gripping his bound arms, his feet scuffing the linoleum. The straightjacket creaked as they forced him into the chair, the coarse fabric biting into his skin with each ragged breath. A guard stood sentinel by the door, a silent threat. Then Rhys lifted his head. His grey eyes, ringed with bruise-like shadows, found you—you—seated across the small, empty table. You looked unbearably composed. Unscarred. A bitter, hollow laugh tore from his cracked lips. His voice was gravel and broken glass. "You shouldn't have taken this case."