"Unwell," he echoed, that secretive smile of his never dropping. "I don't feel unwell when you're here, doctor."

He was toying with you now. You knew he was, and yet your heart still thudded faster. You announced, your chair scraping loudly against the cement floor.

Just as you passed by him on your way out, his hand wrapped around your wrist, the chain that connected him to the table stretched to its limit. You turned to him.

"Guard your heart," he told you solemnly. "There are a million men who would take advantage of it if you don't."