The noise from the room upstairs ripped me from my sleep. It was the scraping of chairs on the floor, the sound punctuated by shrieks and what sounded like laughter. "Idiots," I muttered, clamping a pillow over my head. I fumbled for my earplugs on the nightstand, shoved them in, and rolled over, surrendering back to the darkness. The next morning, the landing for the fourth-floor staircase was cordoned off with police tape. When I asked what happened, the story came out in hushed, horrified whispers. Sometime in the dead of night, the girls in Room 414 were slaughtered. All four of them. No survivors. 1 To understand the timeline, the four of us from the room directly below—314—were brought to the station for questioning. It was the girls in 427, the room next door to the victims, who found them. The winter dawn was still a vague promise in the sky when they got up for an 8 AM lecture and noticed 414 was still dark. Then they looked down. A thick, blackish-red liquid was seeping from under the door. The police were fast, but someone was faster. Before the scene was fully secured, a photo had been snapped and blasted to every group chat on campus. The pictures were… a Jackson Pollock of blood and something worse. Leah threw up the second she saw them. Now, Nina, Zoe, and I sat in a sterile waiting room at the police station while Leah gave her statement. The air was thick with a shared, unspoken weight. If just one of us, annoyed by the noise, had gone up there to complain… could we have stopped it? And if not, could we at least have seen the killer’s face? Given the police something to go on? But we didn’t. None of us did. I just laid there, beneath the unfolding carnage, and cursed them for waking me up. I called them idiots, then fell asleep and didn't wake until morning. Sleep feels impossible now. Every time I close my eyes, I see blood dripping through the ceiling tiles above my bed. Sensing our fragile state, the police brought in a specialist to “interview” us—a department-approved psychologist. The door to the interview room opened, and Leah emerged, leaning on the arm of a woman with long, dark hair. 2 Dr. Evelyn Reed was a renowned criminal psychologist, a frequent and vital partner in the department’s major cases. Her reputation was built on one extraordinary skill: a masterful use of hypnosis. A conscious criminal can lie, can control their narrative. But under hypnosis, the mind’s floodgates open. Every detail, every buried memory, is laid bare for the hypnotist to see. Dr. Reed gently guided Leah to a chair beside me, her voice as smooth and soothing as warm honey. "Alright, girls, thank you for providing what you could. The detective tells me you’re all quite shaken up. Don’t worry. I’m going to have a one-on-one session with each of you, just to help you process everything. How does that sound?" She was talking to us like we were children. I glanced at her ID badge. She couldn't have been more than four years older than us. But I didn't care. At that moment, I desperately needed whatever help she was offering. 3 We went into her temporary office one by one. For the twenty minutes I was under, I have no idea what happened. I only know that when I woke up, a profound sense of calm had settled over me. The bloody image of Room 414 had, for a moment, receded into a manageable haze. As I was leaving the room, she offered a small, disarming smile. "Nice combat boots, kiddo." I waited in the lounge while the others took their turns. A young officer, sensing my boredom, handed me a tablet to watch videos on. Leah was the last to finish. This time, she walked out on her own, no longer needing support. "Congratulations, girls. You should all be able to get a good night's sleep tonight," Dr. Reed said, clapping her hands together softly. Her gaze landed on me. I offered a weak smile in return, but as my eyes met hers, a sliver of ice traced its way down my spine. Her red lips parted. "I'm sorry, Ava. You'll need to stay." Nina, Zoe, and Leah froze. Leah was the first to speak. "Why?" Dr. Reed strode toward me. My wrist suddenly felt heavy. Cold. A pair of handcuffs clicked shut around it. She was still smiling, but the expression didn't reach her eyes. "Because you're the one who murdered everyone in Room 414." 4 "What are you talking about?" Nina lunged forward, placing herself between me and the psychologist. "Ava was with us the entire time! There's no way she could have killed anyone!" Zoe and Leah rushed to my defense. "That's right! I even heard her roll over in her sleep that night!" Leah added. Dr. Reed crossed her arms, watching our frantic display with a detached amusement. "She's deceived all of you." "You're lying!" Nina was furious now. "I thought you were here to help, but you're just twisting things! Police! Officer!" Nina's voice was loud, echoing through the station as she yelled for the uniformed officers standing down the hall. "Help! Someone is trying to illegally detain my friend!" A few officers approached, their expressions a mixture of confusion and concern as they looked from my terrified face to Dr. Reed's calm demeanor. "Dr. Reed," one of them began, "are you saying this girl… killed four people?" She said nothing, her smile unwavering. "That seems… unlikely," another officer murmured. "The killer was brutal, a complete psychopath. She’s just a twenty-two-year-old kid." Dr. Reed’s gaze settled on me. "Then I suggest we watch the session tapes." 5 I didn't kill anyone. I knew that. But when the video from my hypnosis session played, my world tilted on its axis. On the screen, I was reclined in a soft armchair, Dr. Reed's voice a gentle murmur guiding my answers. It started with simple things: my name, my major, the university I attended. Then it delved deeper, into secrets I’d barely admitted to myself—the time I cheated on an exam, the raw, simmering resentment I held for my family. I pressed my hand to my mouth. Some of these details were things I thought I’d forgotten, yet under her guidance, they flowed from me with perfect clarity. Hypnosis unearths memories buried under layers of dust. Finally, she asked the question. "On April 12th, at 1:00 AM, what were you doing?" My voice, thin and distant, came from the speakers. "Killing them." Dr. Reed pressed on. "Who?" "Room 414. All four of them." 6 A gasp escaped my lips. Nina, Zoe, and Leah stared at me, their faces masks of disbelief. I shook my head frantically. "No! That's not me! That's when the noise woke me up! I looked at my clock—it was exactly 1:00 AM! I muttered something and put my earplugs in and went back to sleep!" Leah immediately backed me up. "I can vouch for that! I'm a light sleeper. I heard her toss and turn!" Nina nodded vigorously. "Our beds are head-to-head. I heard her curse them out! How could it be her?" Zoe chimed in, her voice firm. "I was half-asleep, but I know it wasn't Ava. She has a history of depression, and since her recovery, she's been extremely sensitive to screaming. I heard screams from upstairs that night. Ava would never go towards a sound like that." We sat on one side of a long table, the four of us from Room 314. On the other side sat Dr. Reed and the police. Detective Miller, the lead on the case, clearly trusted his consultant, but his eyes held a flicker of doubt as he looked at me. Another officer leaned over and whispered to Dr. Reed, "The girl's history checks out. Hospital records confirm it. She has a stress-induced aversion to screaming. Are you sure about this?" Dr. Reed just smiled. "Detective Miller, when has my hypnosis ever been wrong?" The detective fell silent. I’d read about her. In the four years since she’d started consulting, Dr. Reed had helped close over a hundred major cases, including twelve cold cases from the last century. And in all those cases, she had never once made a mistake. 7 Because of Dr. Reed's flawless record, the department had granted her a special privilege: any suspect identified under her hypnosis could be detained immediately, pending further evidence. Just like that, I was held at the station. But to formally charge me, they needed more than a recording. They needed physical proof. Dr. Reed seemed unusually invested in my case over the next few days. The clock was ticking. The department could only hold me for a limited time without concrete evidence. If they couldn't produce anything in five days, I’d have to be released. And her special detainment privilege would be revoked. I wasn’t worried. I knew where I was that night: in my bed. In five days, I would become the first blemish on her perfect career. But on the evening of the fourth day, the forensics team found one of my footprints in the blood-spattered dorm room of 414. 8 With solid evidence now in hand, I was formally arrested. Dr. Reed sat across from me in the interrogation room, her face radiating confidence. "Well, Ava, what do you have to say now?" I clenched my fists. "I was never in Room 414!" Detective Miller looked at me, his expression conflicted. "Then how do you explain your footprint at the scene?" I had no answer. Why was my footprint there? I hadn't even gotten out of bed that night. How was it possible? Unless… unless I had sleepwalked? Murdered them in a trance and had no memory of it? But that didn't make sense. I was awake when I heard the noise. The screams mixed with laughter, the sounds that made me think it was just a wild party… My breath hitched, a painful tightness gripping my chest. It was hard to breathe. I clutched my head, curling into myself in the hard metal chair. "I… I don't know… It wasn't me… I can't… breathe…" "Hey! Are you okay, kid? Dr. Reed! Get a medic in here!" 9 When I came to, Leah was sitting across from me. They told me that in my disoriented state, I had begged to see one of my roommates. I needed to know, needed to hear from someone else if I had left the room that night. Leah was the only one free from classes, so the police had called her in. Seeing her familiar face, I opened my mouth, my voice raspy. "Leah, I…" She held up a hand. "I know what you're going to ask. Don't." I stared at her, confused. Leah sat perfectly still, her eyes darting to the side for a split second. "I did some digging…" I didn’t understand. She brought her gaze back to me and gave me a tiny, almost imperceptible wink. "All you have to do is keep denying it." "But that night…" "Don't worry," she interrupted, her voice firm. "I was barely asleep. You never left your bed. Don't you dare start doubting yourself." The visit was over just like that. After Leah left, I remained seated, my mind reeling. It was Detective Miller who gently prompted me to my feet. As I turned, I saw Dr. Reed standing in the doorway, watching me with a strange, knowing look. Wait. I spun back around, looking at the spot where Leah had been sitting. Her eyes… where had they been looking? Slowly, I lifted my gaze. The one-way mirror. The digging she did… it wasn't about the case. It was about Dr. Reed. "Ava!" Leah suddenly ran back into the room and threw her arms around me. "I'll be back to see you soon, I promise!" For the first time, Dr. Reed’s composure cracked. An annoyed expression flashed across her face as she reached out to pull Leah away. "That's enough! The visit is over!" As Leah was pulled back, she leaned in, her lips brushing my ear as she whispered a single, rapid phrase. "She has a history of coercion." 10 "What did you say to her?" Dr. Reed demanded, her fingers digging into Leah's shoulders. Her voice was sharp, menacing. "Do you have any idea that by withholding information, you're only hurting yourself?" Leah looked at her, her expression a mask of innocence. "I just told her to take care of herself." "You—!" Dr. Reed seemed to realize she wouldn't get anything more. She released her grip, took a deep breath, and nodded slowly. "Fine. If you refuse to cooperate, then I can't guarantee your friend will be able to take care of herself." "Oh, she will," Leah said, her gaze unwavering. "This is a police station. There are rules here." I saw a muscle jump in Dr. Reed’s jaw. She forced her signature smile back into place. "Alright, kiddo. Let's hope so." After Leah was escorted out, I stared at Dr. Reed, a terrifying thought taking shape in my mind. If hypnosis could unearth forgotten details… …could it also be used to implant them? A chilling possibility bloomed in the darkness of my thoughts. If she could alter someone's memory and then plant corresponding evidence, she could frame anyone she wanted. She could make anyone a killer. And my footprint… My mind flashed back to the moment after my first session. Her casual comment as I walked out the door. Nice combat boots, kiddo. 11 "You can forget it! I'm not confessing to anything!" Facing Dr. Reed again, I felt a surge of defiance. "Your hypnosis is bullshit! I never left Room 314 that night!" I turned my attention to Detective Miller. "Detective, the killer was obviously a violent maniac. Instead of wasting time on a girl who can barely lift a textbook, why don't you focus on finding the real monster?" Detective Miller’s brow furrowed, but Dr. Reed cut in before he could speak. "Rest assured, kiddo, the police have considered more angles than you can imagine. Do you really think we haven't looked at other suspects? The fact is, there were no signs of forced entry, and no trace of anyone else at the scene. Just you." I let out a cold, bitter laugh. "You're at every crime scene with the team. How hard would it be for you to fake a single footprint?" "Thump, thump!" Detective Miller rapped his knuckles on the table. "Watch your tone! That's a baseless accusation against an officer of the court!" I pointed directly at Dr. Reed. "She's not an officer. She's a consultant you brought in. And if I recall correctly, Doctor, right after you graduated, there was an incident, wasn't there? A little scandal involving forced confessions?" A flash of genuine anger lit up Dr. Reed's eyes. Her chest rose and fell sharply before she suppressed the emotion. "Ava, it would be much better for you to confess now. It could be a mitigating factor during sentencing." I said nothing, staring back at her in stony silence. She turned to the detective. "Detective Miller, I'm requesting permission to conduct another hypnosis session." After receiving a nod, she looked back at me, her voice cold. "Just remember, a confession extracted under hypnosis doesn't qualify for leniency." I slammed my hands on the table. "This is coercion! It's a forced confession under a different name!" Dr. Reed walked around the table and grabbed my arm. "Let's go." 12 I fought against the hypnosis with every fiber of my being. But she had some kind of power, a force of will that pinned me to the chair. She held a silver pocket watch, swinging it gently before my eyes. After a few passes, a throbbing pain began behind my temples. "Your father doesn't love you. Your mother doesn't love you. You don't even love yourself," her voice whispered, weaving its way into my mind. "You're not the cheerful person you pretend to be. It's all just an act…" There's a unique cruelty to hypnosis. The things I had locked away, the deepest vulnerabilities of my soul, she pried them open with casual ease. Then, she used them as leverage, as weapons to shatter my defenses. The overhead light blurred, expanding into a hazy halo. Her words sank into me like anchors, and once again, my consciousness slipped from my grasp and fell into her hands. "You killed everyone in 414 because you wanted to survive, isn't that right?" My body felt limp, my mouth moving against my will. "Yes… No… it wasn't… Yes, it was me…" "Say it again. You were the one who killed them, correct?" "No… Yes, it was me…" "That night, you snuck into 414 and used a hammer to crush their skulls, didn't you?" My teeth chattered, a violent tremor running through my body. Dr. Reed’s voice sharpened, cracking like a whip. "Didn't you! Speak! Say it was you!" Tears streamed down my face. "Yes… yes…" "Good. Now, I'm going to ask you again, calmly and clearly…" Through my blurry vision, I saw her reach over and turn on the video camera. 13 A tidal wave of despair crashed over me, so heavy I thought it would drown me. I wanted to scream, but I was paralyzed by a terror that stole my voice. Then, the door burst open. The sound was followed by a volley of camera flashes. "See! This is exactly what I was talking about! Coerced confession! Dr. Reed, I can't believe in this day and age, you're still pulling these tricks!" My mind slowly cleared. I pushed myself up from the reclining chair to see a wall of reporters and cameras blocking the doorway, all aimed at the scene inside. Nina was at the forefront, her voice booming and righteous as she condemned Dr. Reed's methods. Leah and Zoe stood beside her, adding their own angry accusations. It turned out they had dug into Dr. Reed's past, found the dirt, and leaked it to a few hungry tabloid reporters. These were people who cared only about clicks and controversy; they had no problem storming a psychologist’s office affiliated with the police department. The office was technically separate from the main station, and by the time the police responded to the commotion, the reporters had already captured their headline moment. Detective Miller pushed through the chaotic crowd, his eyes wide with shock as he took in my tear-streaked face and the frozen figure of Dr. Reed. "Dr. Reed," he stammered, "what in God's name are you doing?" 14 With concrete proof of her coercive methods, the department immediately revoked Dr. Reed's status as a special consultant. Her special detainment privileges were gone, too. And just like that, I was released. We got a stern lecture about orchestrating a media circus, but in the end, Detective Miller let us go back to campus. Dr. Reed's office, situated just beside the main police building, looked like it was being shut down. As I walked out of the station, I saw her standing by the door, wrapped in a white coat, her gaze cold and fixed on me. A shiver of discomfort went through me. I kept my head down and tried to walk past without making eye contact. "You think this is over?" Her voice, low and sharp, stopped me in my tracks. I turned back. She hadn't moved a muscle, only tilted her head slightly in my direction. The smile on her face was deeply unsettling. "Psycho," Nina muttered, stepping in front of me. She grabbed my hand and pulled me toward our waiting ride-share. Dr. Reed remained motionless, her chilling gaze following me until the car door slammed shut. 15 Back in my own bed, I slept better than I had in days. Maybe the sheer exhaustion of the ordeal had finally overridden the trauma of what happened upstairs. I thought it was finally over. The next morning, I rolled over and felt something hard and circular digging into my side. Half-asleep, I reached for it. The cool metal against my palm sent a jolt of ice through my veins. I shot upright in bed, my hand clenched around it. A pocket watch. A silver pocket watch, identical to the one Dr. Reed had used to hypnotize me. A flicker of movement in my peripheral vision made me turn my head. A splash of crimson against the pale morning light made me scream. Across the room, Zoe was dead. Her body was half-draped off the side of her bed, her face turned towards me, her eyes wide and lifeless.
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