(-P): -- ROOM #23 INMATE
Tuesday, August 22nd 2023
"Bill, can I ask you something?"
Dr. Sterling, the new incorporation to the Arkham Psychiatric Hospital, had been intrigued by a curious situation at the facility, but was unable to elicit any useful answer from anybody. Frustrated, he decided to give a shot and try to get some information from Bill, the janitor, during the nightshift.
"Yes, sir," replied the old man, in fact, he looked so old that one would expect him to have applied for retirment a long time ago. "What can I do for you?"
"Do you what is going on with the inmate from room #23?"
A somber expression twisted his usually calm countenance. It was evident that something strange was happening there.
"So?"
"Well, he... dreams."
"What do you mean?"
"Just that. He was found somewhere in the sewers, sleeping, and on the rare ocasions someone get to wake him up, the only answer they get from him is a lethargic 'dreaming'. Not having found any physical explanation for his behavior, he ended up here."
"He surely has to eat at some point."
"The fact is that he doesn't, and he has been confined in that room since he arrived. That was quite a long time ago. Then, I was just a school dropout who got hired a few weeks ago."
Dr. Sterling was astonished by such an absurd revelation, but the janitor's demeanor indicated nothing but utter earnestness.
"That was decades ago! He looks like being in his early twenties!," cried the doctor in a burst, Bill remained unmoved.
"Yep! That is part of the mystery, and not the weirdest one."
"Is there more to it?," inquiered, about to lost it at any moment.
"The point is that, when that inmate was admitted here, someone was appointed to examine him. No report was issued, and the director was about to reprehend the responsible, but by no means, he was able to recall who he might be."
"Checking the records, he found out that the person he was looking for was Charles Kowalski, who ,after inquiring the whole staff, including me, seemed to have never exist, as nobody had any memories from him. In spite of any rational explanation, though, his office was located. Nothing unusual in itself, but the fact that it showed the signs of regular use was understandably unnerving."
"What happened then?"
"The management imposed silence upon the event, but hearsay was impossible to prevent and I even managed to eavedrop some talk I was not supposed to listen to. It is upsetting how bigwigs look down on you, but being considered almost as a piece of furniture has benefits on satisfying one's curiosity. It was said that someone was send to Kowalki's place, only to find a shaking woman claiming that, despite living alone, her house was plenty of stuff belonging to a stranger. The poor lady had a meltdown and disappeared shortly after, never to be found."
"And that is all?," insisted the doctor, his eyes pleading.
Then, Bill looked around with apprehension.
"I probably should not be telling this," muttered, " but several years after that, I met Dr. Hoffmann, who was expelled after his alcoholism came out. I was in a bar drowning my sorrows in alcohol after my wife left me. I didn't noticed him until he approached me, looking of some company. Eventually, both of us got wasted, and somehow, we ended up talking about the sleeping stranger. Suddenly, he sobered up, as much as one can after drinking to the point we did, and made me a confession, something he wanted to let out but he didn't dare to. According to him, he and the director decided to interrogate the room #23 inmate concerning the issue of Dr. Kowalski. After hours trying to wake him up, they only got him to slur: he... annoying... dreamed... him... off..."