The Veil Institute for the Criminally Insane, hidden in the remote hills of Northern California, is not just your ordinary mental institution. Founded in the late 19th century as "the last refuge for broken souls", the institution has treated more than ten thousand extreme cases over more than 130 years. In addition to patients with severe schizophrenia, psychosis, and dissociative personality disorders, The Veil is known among psychiatrists and parapsychologists as a place that "collects" cases involving mystical elements, possession, and phenomena that cannot be explained by medical science. modern.
Here are some famous mystical cases recorded in The Veil's secret archives (some leaked to the public through former staff or independent investigations):
1. The Case of "The Whispering Choir" (1957)
A 34-year-old woman from Louisiana was admitted with a diagnosis of "schizophrenia with auditory hallucinations." He claimed to hear a children's choir singing church songs in ancient Latin every night. Doctors initially thought it was a simple delusion. However, as night fell, the entire ward heard the same singing sounds — the unmistakable voices of children, even though there were no children in the facility. Audio recordings made by staff captured the sounds, including lyrics that predicted a nurse's death two days later. The woman was eventually "cured" after a series of unrecorded sessions, but to this day, night staff still report hearing the whispers of a choir in the empty corridors.
2. The case of "Patient Zero-X" or "The Smiling Man" (1973)
An unidentified man was found naked in the woods near the institution. He smiled constantly, even while being tormented by hallucinations. The doctor noted that every time he smiled, the room temperature dropped drastically and the lights flickered. This patient could speak 17 languages he had never learned, including ancient Sumerian. He once predicted a small earthquake that occurred a week later. After two years, he disappeared from his locked cell without a trace — leaving only a bloody smile on the wall made of fingernail scribbles. This case is one of the most closely guarded secrets in The Veil.
3. The Case of "The Levitating Girl" (1989)
A 16-year-old girl from Mexico who was brought in for "epilepsy with levitation."Eyewitnesses (including doctors and nurses) reported he often hovered 30-50 cm above the bed during attacks, eyes rolled back, and spoke in an old man's voice cursing the staff in archaic Spanish. During the exorcism-like treatment carried out by The Veil's special team, the room temperature dropped to minus 10 degrees Celsius and the smell of sulfur filled the entire floor. The girl was "cured" after 11 sessions, but to this day she is still treated as an outpatient due to "residual entities" that occasionally reappear.
4. The Case of "The Shadow Surgeon" (2004)
A former surgeon who becomes a patient after he begins performing operations on himself at home. He claimed there was a "doctor's vision" who ordered him to cut off parts of his body to "cleanse his soul". At The Veil, the staff discovered that every time this patient slept, a black, human-shaped shadow in an old doctor's coat appeared on the CCTV and performed surgical movements in the air above the patient's body. Several other patients in the same ward reported feeling invisible blades touching their skin. This case became the basis for the "Shadow Containment" protocol that is still used today.
5. The Case of "The Eternal Choirboy" (2017)
A 19 year old young man came in with symptoms similar to Rina's: an adult man's voice coming out of his mouth, excessive physical strength, and injuries that appeared for no reason. He claims to "share a body" with an entity that is hundreds of years old. During isolation, he often sang spiritual songs in a beautiful child's voice, but the lyrics turned into curses in an unknown language. This case is similar to many classic possession cases such as Anneliese Michel, but The Veil managed to "stabilize" the patient with a combination of heavy drugs and unpublished contemporary rituals.
The Veil Institute is built with an old castle-like architecture, with special wings for "level 5 cases" (disorders suspected of involving external entities). They have an interdisciplinary team: psychiatrists, neurologists, theologians and even parapsychologists working in secret. This hospital has treated thousands of variations of mystical disorders - from classic demonic possession, spirit attachment, poltergeist activity, to cases where patients claim to "share a body with the ruler of another realm".
For Rina, her arrival at The Veil was not the end of suffering, but rather a new chapter. Here, thick walls and strict protocols were no longer enough to contain what was inside him. The Lord of the Dream Realm smiled in the darkness of his mind:
"They thought they could lock us up here, my queen. In fact, this place is full of tired souls waiting to be devoured."
When the door to Rina's solitary cell was locked for the first time, a faint roar could be heard from the distant corridor — as if all the old mystical cases in The Veil were joining in welcoming the arrival of their new "queen".
The story at The Veil Institute is just beginning. And here, the line between patient and "treated" is often blurred.
The following is a continuation of the story according to your request:
The plane lands at San Francisco International Airport under gray Northern California skies. Rina was taken in special handcuffs and escorted by four security officers and a psychiatric nurse. The road trip to The Veil Institute takes almost three hours along winding roads in the middle of dense forests and misty hills.
As the black car passed through the tall iron gate guarded by cameras and an electric fence, Rina looked up at the main building of The Veil Institute. The dark gray old stone building indeed resembled an ancient castle—tall towers, small barred windows, and thick walls that seemed to swallow the sunlight. The air here is colder and damper than Jakarta, as if this place was purposely built to make people feel buried alive.
The main entrance opened with a heavy sound. Head doctor, Dr. Eleanor Voss, a woman in her 50s in a neat white coat and thin glasses, greeted him in the lobby.
"Welcome to The Veil, Miss Rina. We have read all the medical records and police reports from Indonesia. You will be placed in Wing C — the wing for level 4 and 5 cases. Here we are used to handling things that are… beyond the usual medical explanation."
Rina just smiled a little, didn't answer. His eyes swept across the long, dimly lit hallways, the smell of antiseptic medicine mixed with the damp smell of old stone.
He was immediately put through the admissions process: a complete physical examination, blood tests, brain scans, and an initial interview with the psychiatric team. The wounds from his father's buckle had begun to dry up, but the lacerations were still clearly visible on his back, arms and chest. The doctor noted everything down without much comment.
The first night, Rina was placed in a temporary isolation room — a small room with white padded walls, an iron bed bolted to the floor, and a CCTV camera glowing red in the corner of the ceiling.
In the following days, Rina was allowed to interact with other patients in the common recreation area of Wing C. The room was spacious, with worn sofas, plastic tables, and tall windows lined with thick bars. The patients here vary — from those who just stare at the wall silently, to those who talk to themselves loudly.
What was strange was their reaction to Rina.
As soon as Rina entered the common area for the first time, the atmosphere immediately changed. Several patients who were drawing immediately stopped, their pencils falling to the floor. A middle-aged woman who usually sang quietly suddenly covered her mouth and retreated to a corner of the room. A big man who was known for being angry actually lowered his head deeply, as if he didn't dare look at Rina.
They are scared.
A young male patient whispered to his friend, his voice shaking:
"That... he just came from Asia. I felt... someone came with him. It's so cold..."
Rina walked slowly between them. A small smile still remained on his thick lips. He felt the frightened gazes, but instead felt… calm. It was as if his mere presence was enough to make them retreat.
Until he met a different person.
In the corner of the room, near a shelf of children's toys provided for therapy, sat a man around 30 years old. His body was stocky and muscular, broad shoulders, big arms, but there was a slight soft bulge in his stomach that made him look more human. His face was handsome—firm jaw, sharp nose, warm brown eyes, and short, slightly messy brown hair. His name is Ethan.
Ethan was sitting on the floor hugging an old, worn teddy bear. When he saw Rina approaching, he didn't back away. In fact, his eyes sparkled like a child's.
"Hi… you're the new one, right?" his voice was soft, high pitched like a six year old child. "I'm Ethan. Do you want to play with me? This teddy bear is called Mr. Fluff. He's scared of the people here… but he says you're nice."
Rina stopped in front of him. For the first time since arriving at The Veil, he felt interested.
"You… are not afraid of me?" Rina asked quietly.
Ethan shook his head quickly, then smiled broadly while rocking his teddy bear. "Not afraid. Mr. Fluff said you have big friends inside. Friends who are cold as snow. But Mr. Fluff said your friends love you. So I love you too."
He crawled closer, then suddenly hugged Rina's waist affectionately, his head resting on Rina's stomach like a child asking for a hug.
"Hug me, bro... I'm afraid that tonight there will be another voice in my head. You hug me, okay, Sis Rina?"
Rina was silent for a moment, then her hand slowly stroked Ethan's hair. The burly 30-year-old man now behaved exactly like a six-year-old little girl — spoiled, innocent, and very dependent.
Since that day, Ethan has been the only patient who dared to approach Rina without fear. He often follows Rina everywhere in the recreation area. At mealtime, he sat next to Rina and asked to be fed. During a group therapy session, he held Rina's hand tightly while playing with dolls on her lap.
"Sis Rina... let's play with dolls again. Mr. Fluff wants to tell me about the snow palace. He said there is a snow king who looks like you," he said one afternoon while leaning his head on Rina's shoulder, his voice spoiled and high.
The other patients just watched from a distance with fearful eyes. Some whispered, "He dares to be close to the new guy... Ethan has been strange for a long time, but now... he seems to have been chosen."
Rina herself is starting to feel comfortable with Ethan. Amidst the cold walls of The Veil, the presence of this burly man who acted like a child gave him a strange sense of "normalcy". He often let Ethan hug him, play with dolls with him, and even sing children's songs with his soft voice which contrasted with his muscular body.
But inside Rina's head, the Lord of Dreams is always watching.
One night, when Rina and Ethan sat in a quiet corner of the common area, Ethan suddenly hugged Rina tighter than usual. The voice is still spoiled, but there is a strange tone:
"Sis Rina... your friend is cold inside you... he's angry, right? I feel very cold... but I still love Sis Rina."
Rina smiled faintly as she stroked Ethan's strong back.
"He's not mad at you, Ethan. He's just…protective."
Inside Rina's mind, the deep sound of the cello echoed softly:
This little guy is cute. But remember, my queen… in this place, all souls are ours someday.
The Veil Institute, with its long history of dealing with mystical cases, now has two new residents who complement each other in the most unexpected ways: a woman who carries the master of dreams within her, and a burly adult man who chooses to live as asix year old little boy.
And between those thick walls, something darker began to move slowly.
Other patients approached less and less. They knew — something was wrong with Rina. And Ethan, innocently speaking, was getting more spoiled and clingy to her every day.
Night after night, Rina increasingly felt that The Veil was not a prison.
This is a new stage.
And this stage… was much wider than he had imagined.
The plane lands at San Francisco International Airport under gray Northern California skies. Rina was taken in special handcuffs and escorted by four security officers and a psychiatric nurse. The road trip to The Veil Institute takes almost three hours along winding roads in the middle of dense forests and misty hills.
As the black car passed through the tall iron gate guarded by cameras and an electric fence, Rina looked up at the main building of The Veil Institute. The dark gray old stone building indeed resembled an ancient castle—tall towers, small barred windows, and thick walls that seemed to swallow the sunlight. The air here is colder and damper than Jakarta, as if this place was purposely built to make people feel buried alive.
The main entrance opened with a heavy sound. Head doctor, Dr. Eleanor Voss, a woman in her 50s in a neat white coat and thin glasses, greeted him in the lobby.
"Welcome to The Veil, Miss Rina. We have read all the medical records and police reports from Indonesia. You will be placed in Wing C — the wing for level 4 and 5 cases. Here we are used to handling things that are… beyond the usual medical explanation."
Rina just smiled a little, didn't answer. His eyes swept across the long, dimly lit hallways, the smell of antiseptic medicine mixed with the damp smell of old stone.
He was immediately put through the admissions process: a complete physical examination, blood tests, brain scans, and an initial interview with the psychiatric team. The wounds from his father's buckle had begun to dry up, but the lacerations were still clearly visible on his back, arms and chest. The doctor noted everything down without much comment.
The first night, Rina was placed in a temporary isolation room — a small room with white padded walls, an iron bed bolted to the floor, and a CCTV camera glowing red in the corner of the ceiling.
In the following days, Rina was allowed to interact with other patients in the common recreation area of Wing C. The room was spacious, with worn sofas, plastic tables, and tall windows lined with thick bars. The patients here vary — from those who just stare at the wall silently, to those who talk to themselves loudly.
What was strange was their reaction to Rina.
As soon as Rina entered the common area for the first time, the atmosphere immediately changed. Several patients who were drawing immediately stopped, their pencils falling to the floor. A middle-aged woman who usually sang quietly suddenly covered her mouth and retreated to a corner of the room. A big man who was known for being angry actually lowered his head deeply, as if he didn't dare look at Rina.
They are scared.
A young male patient whispered to his friend, his voice shaking:
"That... he just came from Asia. I felt... someone came with him. It's so cold..."
Rina walked slowly between them. A small smile still remained on his thick lips. He felt the frightened gazes, but instead felt… calm. It was as if his mere presence was enough to make them retreat.
Until he met a different person.
In the corner of the room, near a shelf of children's toys provided for therapy, sat a man around 30 years old. His body was stocky and muscular, broad shoulders, big arms, but there was a slight soft bulge in his stomach that made him look more human. His face was handsome—firm jaw, sharp nose, warm brown eyes, and short, slightly messy brown hair. His name is Ethan.
Ethan was sitting on the floor hugging an old, worn teddy bear. When he saw Rina approaching, he didn't back away. In fact, his eyes sparkled like a child's.
"Hi… you're the new one, right?" his voice was soft, high pitched like a six year old child. "I'm Ethan. Do you want to play with me? This teddy bear is called Mr. Fluff. He's scared of the people here… but he says you're nice."
Rina stopped in front of him. For the first time since arriving at The Veil, he felt interested.
"You… are not afraid of me?" Rina asked quietly.
Ethan shook his head quickly, then smiled broadly while rocking his teddy bear. "Not afraid. Mr. Fluff said you have big friends inside. Friends who are cold as snow. But Mr. Fluff said your friends love you. So I love you too."
He crawled closer, then suddenly hugged Rina's waist affectionately, his head resting on Rina's stomach like a child asking for a hug.
"Hug me, bro... I'm afraid that tonight there will be another voice in my head. You hug me, okay, Sis Rina?"
Rina was silent for a moment, then her hand slowly stroked Ethan's hair. The burly 30-year-old man now behaved exactly like a six-year-old little girl — spoiled, innocent, and very dependent.
Since that day, Ethan has been the only patient who dared to approach Rina without fear. He often follows Rina everywhere in the recreation area. At mealtime, he sat next to Rina and asked to be fed. During a group therapy session, he held Rina's hand tightly while playing with dolls on her lap.
"Sis Rina... let's play with dolls again. Mr. Fluff wants to tell me about the snow palace. He said there is a snow king who looks like you," he said one afternoon while leaning his head on Rina's shoulder, his voice spoiled and high.
The other patients just watched from a distance with fearful eyes. Some whispered, "He dares to be close to the new guy... Ethan has been strange for a long time, but now... he seems to have been chosen."
Rina herself is starting to feel comfortable with Ethan. Amidst the cold walls of The Veil, the presence of this burly man who acted like a child gave him a strange sense of "normalcy". He often let Ethan hug him, play with dolls with him, and even sing children's songs with his soft voice which contrasted with his muscular body.
But inside Rina's head, the Lord of Dreams is always watching.
One night, when Rina and Ethan sat in a quiet corner of the common area, Ethan suddenly hugged Rina tighter than usual. The voice is still spoiled, but there is a strange tone:
"Sis Rina... your friend is cold inside you... he's angry, right? I feel very cold... but I still love Sis Rina."
Rina smiled faintly as she stroked Ethan's strong back.
"He's not mad at you, Ethan. He's just…protective."
Inside Rina's mind, the deep sound of the cello echoed softly:
This little guy is cute. But remember, my queen… in this place, all souls are ours someday.
The Veil Institute, with its long history of dealing with mystical cases, now has two new residents who complement each other in the most unexpected ways: a woman who carries the master of dreams within her, and a burly adult man who chooses to live as asix year old little boy.
And between those thick walls, something darker began to move slowly.
Other patients approached less and less. They knew — something was wrong with Rina. And Ethan, innocently speaking, was getting more spoiled and clingy to her every day.
Night after night, Rina increasingly felt that The Veil was not a prison.
This is a new stage.
And this stage… was much wider than he had imagined. That night at The Veil Institute, the common area of Wing C was starting to get quiet after dinner time. Dim lights illuminate worn sofas and graffiti-covered plastic tables. Only a few patients remained in the corner of the room, but they kept their distance from Rina and Ethan.
Ethan sat on the floor as usual, hugging Mr. Fluff with spoiled. His strong, muscular body was in stark contrast to his demeanor, which was like a six year old child. He suddenly raised his head, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement.
"Sis Rina... today Ethan wants to paint! The doctor gave me watercolors and large paper in the therapy room. Is that okay? Ethan wants to paint Sis Rina... Sis Rina is really beautiful, like the snow white from Mr. Fluff's dream."
Rina stared at him for a moment. A small smile appeared on his thick lips. "Yes. But don't take too long, the nurse will get angry."
Ethan immediately let out a small cheer in a high voice, crawled up and pulled Rina's hand gently. The two of them walked to the corner of the therapy room which was still open. There are medium canvases, watercolors, brushes and palettes available. Ethan sat on the floor again, positioning Rina to sit on a simple wooden chair in front of him.
"Don't move, Sis... Ethan wants to do the best."
The burly 30 year old man started painting with full concentration. His big hand that usually hugged the doll now held the brush with surprising tenderness. His eyes couldn't leave Rina's face—slant eyes with curled eyelashes, yellowish-white skin of Chinese-Arab descent, thick lips that used to be insulted, black hair that flowed softly, and a slender body that still had faint scars on the neck and arms.
Time passed almost two hours. Ethan painted non-stop, occasionally muttering softly like a child engrossed in playing, "Mr. Fluff said to add light to the eyes... yes, so it looks like sparkling snow..."
When he finally put down the brush, his face was covered in small amounts of paint but radiant.
"Done! Sis Rina... look!"
Rina stood up slowly and moved closer to the canvas. His breath held for a moment.
That painting is… amazing.
On the canvas, Rina is not depicted as an ordinary girl from the outskirts of Jakarta who is full of wounds. She was like a living porcelain statue from Greek mythology—her face was perfect with timeless soft lines, her skin glistening white like moonlit marble, but still harboring a subtle yellowish warmth. Her narrow eyes that were once despised now looked mysterious and enchanting, like the eyes of a goddess that could penetrate the soul. Her thick lips are described as full, sensual, and beautiful like honey dripping from the statue of Aphrodite. Her black hair flowed like night silk, given a soft light effect as if there was snow dew on it.
Her body in the painting is even more amazing. Slender shoulders, long graceful necks, firm breasts with perfect curves, slender waists, and soft hips—all depicted with fine details like the sculptures of Olympian goddesses. The light in the painting seemed to come from within herself, making her skin glow like a heavenly porcelain statue. His old wounds were invisible; there was only pure, cold, eternal beauty. Her beauty in the painting is not merely human beauty—she rivals that of Greek goddesses: more delicate than Aphrodite, more mysterious than Artemis, more graceful than Hera. As if Rina was a new goddess born from snow and wounds, an irreplaceable queen.
Rina touched the edge of the canvas with trembling fingers. "Ethan… this… me?"
Ethan nodded quickly, smiled broadly as he hugged Mr. Fluff. "Yes! Sis Rina is like a snow goddess! Mr. Fluff said her painting is so good, even the goddesses in the sky are jealous. Ethan is happy... Sis Rina likes it?"
Inside Rina's head, the cello sound of the Lord of Dreams echoed softly, full of satisfaction and a hint of subtle jealousy:
Look, my queen… even this little soul can see the true beauty I have in you. You really deserve to be the queen of my palace. This painting... is just a small reflection of how perfect you are in my eyes.
Rina smiled faintly, then knelt in front of Ethan and hugged him gently. The burly man immediately hugged back spoiledly, his head resting on Rina's chest like a happy child.
"Thank you, Ethan. The painting is very beautiful. You are great."
Ethan chuckled in a high voice. "Tomorrow, Ethan wants to paint again, right? This time Sis Rina is wearing a white dress like a snow queen... Mr. Fluff has already told the story."
That night, when Rina returned to her isolation room, she couldn't stop thinking about the painting. For the first time in his life full of insults—from his father, from Ainun, from the harsh world—he saw himself as something beautiful, eternal, and worthy of worship.
In the small mirror in the bathroom of his cracked cell, the image of the Lord of Dreams appeared behind its reflection. Her long flowing black hair, snow skin, enchanting death gaze. He smiled faintly, his voice soft as a cello:
"You've always been beautiful in my eyes, Rina Snow. That little child's painting just reminds you of what existed a long time ago. In our palace, you're not just a queen… you're a goddess that even the Greek gods would kneel to."
Rina touched the mirror slowly, her finger touched the reflection of the man's face.
"One day… I want to see that painting hanging on the wall of our dream palace."
The ruler nodded slowly, his gaze full of gentle ownership.
"And Ethan… he may paint more. His little soul is pure. But remember, my queen… in this place, all brushes, all canvases, and all souls will ultimately serve us."
In the common area the next day, Ethan was waiting with a new canvas, his eyes sparkling with excitement. The other patients kept their distance, but Rina just smiled slightly.
This new stage at The Veil Institute is getting more interesting.
And that first painting was just the beginning of many masterpieces that would emerge from the hands of the burly man who lived as a child—masterpieces that immortalized Rina as an irreplaceable snow goddess, more beautiful than any porcelain statue of any Greek goddess.