THE FIRST STEP INTO THE DARK
It was 2007, and this is where our story comes to life, in a country with a rich culture and centuries-old traditions: Estonia. The country was a unique mix of history and modernity. Tallinn, the capital, embraced a medieval past with its old town, while its rural landscapes boasted lush forests and picturesque villages.
Roman Zhirov, thirty years old, stood out for his slender and muscular build, brown hair and calm hazel eyes, which showed off a white complexion. A kind and kind-hearted man, Zhirov had spent his years as a policeman, but a harrowing episode had left a deep impression on him, prompting him to abandon his uniform.
Despite the trauma, the necessities of life drove Zhirov to look for work. So he applied to the Saarne Institute, a psychiatric institution that housed mentally ill criminals. Curiously, his application was accepted.
The saarne institute stood as a large stone structure in the heart of the Estonian forest. The high walls hid a dark past behind them. The sinister and melancholic environment permeated every corner of the building, underlined by the unreal silence that drowned out every sound even on the brightest days.
When the automatic door was opened, Zhirov entered the gloomy atrium of the building, immediately feeling the unnatural and unsettling sensation that hung in the air. The silence was so thick that he could hear his breathing, broken only by the sound of his shoes on the marble floor. He approached the front desk, where there was a guard. The guard, a bald, tall, slender man, about 40 years old, wearing a black uniform, came out from behind the counter and with a tone of voice, which exuded authority, ordered "put your hands up, I have to search her, it's the practice" zhirov, calmly, raised his hands in the air and waited for the search. The guard searched him thoroughly, running his hands over his entire person in search of forbidden items. Finally he was satisfied and nodded, letting zhirov speak "my name is Roman Zhirov, I was recently hired as a security guard at this place, I should start today!", the guard raised an eyebrow, staring at Zhirov from head to toe, then went to the counter and checked some paperwork. After a minute, he looked up again" ah, yes, here she is. You're the new guard, huh?" Zhirov, trying to hide his inner tension again, gave a toothy smile and replied "yes, it's me!". The guard stared at him from head to toe one more time, then nodded grimly, "okay, but I remind you that the security standards here are very high. There will be no second chances if he does something wrong." Zhirov clenched his jaw, trying to contain his discomfort and nervousness, "I totally understand." He said, maintaining a neutral appearance. The guard then replied "well, follow me, I'll take you to the director..."
Zhirov began to follow the guard along the silent corridors. Each step echoed against the cold stone walls, creating a sinister atmosphere around them. The sour smell of disinfectant pervaded the air, reminding them that they were in a psychiatric hospital.
When they arrived in front of the director's study, the guard knocked on the door. After a few seconds, a baritone voice rang out from within "come on!".
The guard opened the door, motioning for Zhirov to come in. Zhirov took a deep breath and walked through the threshold of the study. Sitting behind a large oak desk, a man in his fifties, with wrinkles and gray-brown hair, greeted him with an attentive look. "Ah, Zhirov, right?" The manager said, pointing to a chair in front of the desk. "Sit down, please. Welcome to the Saarne Institute". Zhirov nodded and settled into his chair, maintaining a calm air. The director introduced himself, "My name is klim värava, but you can call me Dr. Värava if you prefer." Zhirov nodded in understanding, appreciating the director's professionalism. "Very well, Dr. Värava, I am glad to be here. I hope to do my best in my new role as a security guard." Dr. Värava nodded in approval, resting his arms on the table. "I'm sure he will. Here at Saarne Institute we take safety very seriously. Every criminal we harbor is potentially dangerous, so a watchful eye is needed at all hours." Dr. Värava's gaze became thoughtful as he went on. "This institution houses patients suffering from mental disorders, some of whom are in very precarious conditions. The role of the guard is not only to prevent escape attempts, but also to maintain order within the walls of the institution, preventing any accident or aggression between patients." Zhirov nodded, "I totally understand what you mean!" Dr. Värava nodded in appreciation of Zhirov's words. "Excellent. His experience as a policeman will be extremely useful, especially when it comes to handling sensitive situations. Of course, you will receive all the necessary training and the medical staff is available if you have any doubts or questions." Then he opened a desk drawer, took out a folder and handed it to him: "these are our safety rules, read them carefully." Zhirov took the file and began to leaf through it, examining its contents carefully. There was detailed information on the institution's safety procedures, regulations to be followed, rules of conduct towards patients and emergency protocols. The pages were filled with details that emphasized how important every little detail was to maintaining order within the institution.
Leena Klammer watched the armored door of her room with watchful eyes. His hands, small but dexterous, clutched the edge of his hospital gown. Despite her fragile and childlike appearance, Leena was far from helpless. Just over six feet tall, with pale skin and brown hair tied up in a ponytail, her figure betrayed an innate duplicity. Outside his door, the corridor was immersed in a surreal silence, interrupted only by the footsteps of the nurses and orderlies who came and went. Leena waited, holding her breath, counting the seconds. He knew that the opportunity would soon present itself. And like a patient predator, she was ready to seize it. When the last step moved away and the corridor became deserted again, Leena acted. From the pocket of his gown he pulled out a hairpin, deftly stolen from a nurse. With firm and quick hands, he inserted the hairpin into the lock of the armored door and began to manipulate it. His concentration was total, his breath barely a whisper in the oppressive silence.
With a satisfactory click, the lock gave way. Leena opened the door carefully and looked out into the empty hallway. With his heart pounding, he came out of his prison.
She had no time to take more than a few steps, when a hoarse and insistent voice interrupted her: "Play with me! Play with me!" shouted a patient from his room, his thin, bony hands banging against the door. Leena paid no attention to him. Looking straight ahead, he continued down the hallway, his feet gliding silently across the cold floor. Each step brought her closer and closer to freedom, but she knew she couldn't afford distractions. Suddenly, the sound of light but firm footsteps rang out across the hall. Someone was coming. Leena stopped with her heart in her throat, and quickly sought shelter. Without a second thought, he crouched against a wall, hiding in the nearest shadow. Her hazel eyes followed every movement, her ears strained to listen to every single sound.
Zhirov used his security card to open the armored door of the corridor, entered and closed the door behind him. After making sure the door was closed tightly, he began his first shift at the Saarne Institute, walking down the hallway. As he walked, Zhirov felt the security guard uniform uncomfortable; he much preferred his old police uniform. Then he shook his head: he didn't want to think about his old job, he didn't want to remember that event...
Suddenly, Zhirov heard a sound, it sounded like the cry of a child. He followed the sound and saw a little girl with brown hair gathered in a ponytail. The little girl had her face covered by her small hands and was crying, curled up against the wall. Zhirov wondered what a 9-12 year old girl was doing in a psychiatric institution, but he could not give any answer, so he decided to get closer.
"Is something wrong, baby?" asked Zhirov, approaching the little girl. She removed her hands from her face and looked at him with her hazel eyes full of tears. "I want my mother," he said with a sob. Zhirov, trying to comfort her, asked her, "Where is your mother?" The little girl, continuing to cry, replied: "She got out of here. I wanted to follow her, but the bad men scared me." Zhirov, maintaining a reassuring tone, asked her: "What does your mother do?" The little girl replied in a faint voice: "The nurse." Zhirov smiled, an attempt to cheer her up, and said, "It's a good job, you know, right?" But she didn't answer. Zhirov then said, "My name is Roman Zhirov and you?" The little girl replied shyly, "Leena Klammer."
Zhirov lowered himself slightly to look Leena in the eye, and with a reassuring smile told her, "Come, I'll take you back to your mother." Leena stopped crying, slowly rising to her feet. Unexpectedly, she threw her arms around his neck in a tight, silent embrace. Zhirov, surprised but softened, returned the embrace gently. "Let's go," he said in a calm voice, moving away slightly to take Leena's hand.
The two began walking down the long corridor of the Saarne Institute. Their figures advanced silently, accompanied only by the echo of Zhirov's footsteps. As they continued, his gaze stopped on a panoramic window that revealed the silhouette of a burly patient. The man, who was initially watching them closely, suddenly retreated into the shadows of his room as soon as they passed him. Zhirov frowned, finding the patient's behavior disturbing. He would have liked to understand the situation better, but his thoughts were interrupted by the sudden embrace of Leena, who was hugging him tightly. "I'm afraid," he whispered in a trembling voice. Zhirov, feeling his heart accelerate, stopped to calm her. "There is nothing to fear. I'm here, everything will be fine." Leena nodded weakly, keeping her grip on him. Zhirov continued walking with Leena beside him, until he reached the exit of the corridor. He opened the door with his security card and the two headed for the reception, Zirov's heart was divided between the sense of protection for the child and the restlessness that grew in him in that sinister institution.
Upon arriving at the reception, Zhirov and Leena were immediately stopped by the security guard. The man, visibly alarmed, raised a hand to block them. "What do you plan to do?" he asked in an authoritarian voice. Zhirov, trying to keep calm, was about to reply that he was taking the child to her mother, but he did not have time to utter a word. Suddenly, Leena let go of his hand and lunged at the guard, biting his side with unexpected ferocity. The guard bent over in pain, groaning, and Leena took the opportunity to grab the handcuffs that the man wore on his belt. With surprising speed, he climbed on his rump and began to strangle him with the chain of handcuffs, tightening it around the neck of the unfortunate man. Zhirov was paralyzed, unable to react to the sudden and brutal violence of what until recently had seemed to him a sweet and innocent child. The contrast between the image of Leena as a fragile creature and the reality of her brutality took him by surprise, leaving him confused. But he was abruptly brought back to reality by the muffled words of the guard who, now red, implored him: "Call... The Guards... please...". With trembling hands, Zhirov pressed the button of his PEC, the emergency device hanging from his belt. While he was waiting for reinforcements, however, something inside him clicked: he could not stand by and watch. Without a second thought, he knelt in front of Leena, trying to grab her hands and release the grip on the handcuffs. However, the little girl gave him a violent bite on the nose. Zhirov recoiled with a cry of pain, staggering backwards and bringing his hands to his bloodied face. Leena's grip on the handcuffs loosened and the guard, now exhausted and lying on his stomach, began to breathe hard. Leena nimbly climbed off the man's back, without even looking at him, and walked towards the exit of the Saarne Institute with a sure step. But Zhirov, ignoring the pain still throbbing in his nose, quickly got up and ran towards her, grabbing her by the arm before she could get out the front door. Leena turned to look at him, and for a moment her face took on an innocent, almost desperate expression. "You promised to help me find my mother," he said in a trembling voice. "I trusted you." Those words struck Zhirov like a blade in the heart. Still shaken, he hesitated. But it was a fatal mistake. Leena turned completely towards him and, without warning, punched him violently in the testicles. The pain was unbearable. Zhirov immediately released her arm and fell to his knees bringing his hands to the affected part, while his face writhed in agony. Leena, satisfied with the result, gave him a pleased look, mocking him. "You're too gullible!" he said with a grin. Since both Zhirov and the security guard were now harmless, the little girl decided to take her time. Calmly, he slipped the truncheon from Zhirov's belt, raised it high above his head and, without any hesitation, prepared him to strike Zhirov, perhaps with the intention of finishing him off once and for all.
