Chapter Text
Madrid, Spain.
October 4th, 1983
The city of Madrid glittered beneath the velvet cloak of midnight, a tapestry of light and life woven with the threads of revelry. The air thrummed with an unseen energy, a thousand scattered parties spilling onto the streets, each a tiny constellation of joy. But then, piercing the celebratory symphony, came the wail of sirens. An ambulance, a stark white comet, streaked through the heart of the city, its urgent cry a harbinger of distress.
Inside, the sterile confines of the ambulance pulsed with a different kind of urgency. Nurses, their faces etched with a desperate focus, moved with a practiced frenzy around a patient sprawled on the floor, his life seemingly extinguished. "Revisión del paciente," one marked, her voice tight. "¿Cuál es la razón por la que está aquí?"
Another responded, her words clipped. "Fue encontrado en su habitación desmayado, y sin signos de vida. Probablemente sufrió un ataque cardíaco, fue encontrado por uno de sus parientes." A third voice, laced with dread, cut in, "¡Lo perdemos!"
"Empiece la reanimación." the first nurse commanded.
A nod, a sharp intake of breath, and the grim ballet of CPR began. The patient remained inert. "No funciona." a nurse reported, her voice strained.
"Intente de nuevo." the senior nurse urged, her gaze unwavering.
Again, the rhythmic compressions, the desperate breaths, and still, nothing. "¡No funciona nada!" a nurse cried, her composure cracking.
"Entonces tendremos que utilizar el desfibrilador." The nurses exchanged a look, a silent agreement passing between them. They moved with renewed purpose, preparing Them for the shock. All the while, within the dimming consciousness of the patient, a chaotic internal landscape was unfolding. their sight was a blur, his hearing a cacophony of disjointed voices, echoes of disappointment and accusation swirling through his mind.
Nothing works with you
"Do you have everything ready, honey?" A Female voice from a vague memory of their past, echoed through the noise.
"Yep, everything ready!" his own voice, a naive echo.
"Maria, why are you so sure you can bring your ki—?" A man's voice interrupted, his worried rumble.
"I can. I know better." The woman's defiant retort.
"Well yeah, but it is my nephew , and I worry about him!"
As these spectral memories flickered through their mind, the nurses readied the paddles. "¿Listo?" Nurse One asked.
One of the nurses nodded, her eyes fixed on the monitor.
"Muy bien, para atras."
They stepped back as the Lead nurse positioned the paddles. In their mind, the internal storm raged, his worst memories clawing their way to the surface.
"Hell! What's wrong with you, kid?! What did it just tell you?" Their father's furious accusation.
"I know, but—"
"Now get back to kindergarten!"
"¡DESPEJEN!" The nurse shouted to cut through the internal din. Amidst the noise, the phantom voices, a fleeting image surfaced: The patient father, a blur of motion running down a long, sterile hallway. Doctors scattered in his wake. He burst into a room.
"Doctor, what just happened!?" One man’s voice shouted.
"It went wrong! The thing escaped, It'd through the halls, watch out!" a disembodied voice warned.
Hoc numquam erit... Numquam eris! another voice echoed. This one with a very strange sound.
The nurses grew more frantic, their attempts to find a pulse growing more desperate. "¡DESPEJEN!"
With each shock, the internal chaos intensified, the voices and creature's phrase growing louder, more insistent.
"Mom! Dad!" They heard their own cry, lost in the maelstrom.
"KID!" their uncle's voice, a distant anchor.
Then, a single, defiant beat. The last shock from the defibrillator resonated with a surge of life. The kid's heart, after an eternity of silence, began to beat.
"¿¡Que paso!?" His father's voice, with his lips trembling.
"¿Despertó?" Uncle Juan's voice, a surge of relief.
"Yes! Finally!" The nurse jubilantly cried.
The two brothers, their faces etched with relief, let out a collective sigh. Juan's hand clasped Tris's, his grip fierce. "C'mon Kid! just- listen to me! Hang in there! I know you can do it!"
"Sir, excuse me. We need to attend to him," a nurse gently reminded them. The nurses continued their work, their movements now filled with a cautious hope. The camera panned to the steady, rhythmic blips of the heart monitor, the sound of The Patient- Tris's heartbeats growing stronger, louder, as the scene faded to black.
The rhythmic pulse of the heartbeat, once a lifeline, now faded into a dull throb behind their eyes.
Rest child, rest... for now.
The words, a whisper from the void, dissolved into a jumble of unfamiliar sounds, and then a lull darkness.
----
The transition was jarring, from the life-or-death struggle in the ambulance to the quiet hum of a hospital room.. Where were they? The darkness behind his eyelids was absolute, yet they felt a strange, buzzing awareness, a fragile thread tethered to a reality he couldn't quite grasp. beep. beep. beep. A dull ache throbbed in his head as they tried to sit up, his body protesting the movement. “Oww my head…” they mumbled, their voice raspy. Looked around, their gaze sweeping over the unfamiliar surroundings. ”What is this place? Where am I? What-”
Their eyes fluttered open, met by the sterile white of a hospital ceiling. The rhythmic beep of a machine was the only sound, a stark contrast to the chaos he had just experienced. He was in a hospital bed, a fact that only added to his burgeoning confusion. Panic began to bubble, but he forced it down. ok chill down, go back to your steps, and remember. Ok, so I was last night in my room getting ready for.. something I guess? What was it? Maybe to…
The fragmented memories returned, a torrent of sound and sensation. Screams, yelling, the sharp, ragged intake of his own hyperventilating breath. Then, voices from outside the room, muffled but distinct.
“Hey, are you feeling alright, son?”
Dad, is that you?
“¿Este es el cuarto, enfermera?” a man's voice inquired.
“Si señor, ¿quiere que yo revise al paciente?” a nurse replied.
“No, no descuide lo haré yo.”
“Está bien, avísame si necesita ayuda.”
“¿Qué es lo que le ha pasado doctor?” A third male voice jumped in the conversation. A familiar voice. Their father.
“No se preocupe Señor Voinescu, nada ha pasado a peor, todo está bajo control ahora”
The patient's breath hitched. They instinctively tried to remain chill, to appear as still and unremarkable as possible as the door creaked open.
“Knock knock, ¿Tristán Voinescu? ¿puedo pasar?”
“Pase” Tris mumbled quickly as he tried to get back to his calm position on the bed.
Tristan stared at the man as he entered the room,then to his father as his brow furrowed in a mask of confusion. Who was this? What was going on?
“Buenos días Tristán, cómo te has amanecido el día de hoy” The doctor asks with a smile and his face and a genuinely Interest in his voice.
“¿Bien? supongo…”
“No me entiendes ¿verdad?”
“Si entiende, pero es muy poco, verá no se crió aquí así que le cuesta un poco entender” His father explain, meanwhile he passed behind the doctor across the space between him and his son. “Verdad, Tris” His voice with a mildly infuriated tone. Tris nodded weakly, his hand instinctively going to his chest.
“Well, my name's Dr. Ignacio Torroja. My English is a bit rusty but I can try, anyways. Good Morning, how are you little buddy? Did you sleep well?”
Tristan’s gaze darted around the room, trying to piece together the fragments of his reality. “Good but- Where.. Where am I? Why am I here?”
“You are in the Mental Hospital San Juan de la Cruz,” Dr. Torroja explained, his tone clinical. “It seems by your symptoms and your noticeable headache that you experienced a cardiac attack.”
“What?” The words felt alien on his tongue, disconnected from his own sense of self.
“Hey, try to take it easy, son,” His father replied. Though he was trying to relive his son, Tris could still feel his eye inspecting his body, as always. It wasn't something so weird on his part.
“Yeah, it's a bit difficult to explain- Dr. Torroja continued-, “but we did exams and it seems that the coronary artery in your heart was massively obstructed as no one before, your heart’s grease accumulated in just within a few minutes when in normal cases it takes years to accumulate…”
Tristan’s mind raced as Dr. Torroja's voice faded from his mind. Cardiac attack? What the hell he means with that, I'm not sure if heart issues are a thing he had. I'm good with that, God what the hell happened last night? He strained to recall, but the memories remained elusive, a hazy jumble of screams and hyperventilation.
“Hey, HEY! Are you ok?” Dr. Torroja’s voice, laced with concern.
Tris nodded, though a knot of anxiety tightened in his stomach. He forced himself to remain outwardly calm, allowing the doctor to continue.
“So like I was saying.. I just came here to examine you before they take you to the fifth ward.”
“Fifth ward?” The words sent a shiver down his spine.
“Yeah, it is a good place for you to stay and get help.” Explained his father “Besides, help could you get some use, you’ve been out of it lately so the folks here will be able to help you.”
“And you approved it?”
His father just sighed, “I’m considering it.”
“Yeah, but believe it or not it's the best thing to do.”Dr. Torroja interrupted”But hey, don't be sad, they can visit you every month! And you can call them whenever you want too.”
Tris nodded, a hollow ache in his chest. He knew, with a certainty that chilled him to the bone, that his family’s actions were not born of concern, but of a desire to be rid of him. The doctor’s words, meant to be comforting, only served to deepen his unease.
“So don't worry about it now. How about we start the check, shall we?”
Tristan took a deep breath, his gaze fixed on the doctor as the examination began. The camera slowly panned to the wall, where Tris’s own shadow seemed to shift and writhe, an unsettling prelude to the darkness that awaited him.