CrystalNinjaPhoenix

Hi, I'm Crystal!

24 years old. I'm trying this out. Mostly a fanfiction writer. Pretty much only for jacksepticeye egos haha.


Part One of the PW Timeline
A JSE Fanfic
[This is the start of a complete series I wrote called the PW Timeline! It started out as a one-shot for an event on Tumblr in July 2019, but then spiraled from there into a 30 chapter series that wrapped up in July of 2022. Original characters play a big part in this series, so if that isn't your thing, you're warned now haha.]
[Dr. Schneeplestein returns after a nine-month-long disappearance, and is quickly accused of a series of murders committed when he was missing. Due to a preexisting condition, he's sent to a mental hospital. His psychiatrist tries her best to help him, but is it possible there's more to this case than it appears? What initially appeared to be a series of confusing delusions might actually have a ground in reality.]
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The room was pretty empty. It had to be, in accordance with the hospital regulations. Dr. Rya Laurens liked to think that though it was empty, it wasn’t hollow, but the truth was that you still couldn’t help but notice a clinical sort of feeling. It was in the white-painted walls and the gray carpet, in the fluorescent lights overhead whose bright light evenly covered the room. There were only three pieces of furniture in the room: a table and two chairs.

Dr. Laurens tapped the edges of the folder against the table surface, making sure all the papers were contained inside and not slipping out. Then she set it down and looked up at the man sitting across from her. Brown hair. Blue eyes that had been hidden behind glasses before, but those hadn’t complied with the hospital regulations either. Simple sweater and pants. His arms were folded on top of the table, fingers drumming a rhythm of some sort on his sleeve. She smiled at him. “Hi. My name’s Dr. Laurens. Are you ready to start, Mr. Schneeplestein?”

“Doctor.”

“Yes?”

“No, no.” He shook his head. “My name is Dr. Schneeplestein. You are using the wrong thing in front.”

“Oh.” Laurens checked the first page in the file real quick. She didn’t know why, exactly, because she already knew this guy was a surgeon. Probably just to cover her tracks or something. “Yes, that’s the wrong prefix. Sorry.” She coughed, a jittery sound. “Can I call you Henrik?”

“No.”

Laurens raised her eyebrow. “You sure? I don’t want to accidentally mispronounce your name or anything.”

He shrugged. “I suppose you can call me ‘Schneep.’ It is a nickname my friends have given to me.”

“Alright.” Laurens clicked her pen on and made a note of the name in the file. “So, then. Schneep. Do you know why you’re here?”

Schneep’s fingers stopped tapping. “In this room, or in this building?”

“Either one.” Laurens smiled patiently. “Or both, whichever you prefer.”

Schneep looked down at the table surface and didn’t say anything. Dr. Laurens decided to wait for a bit, double-checking that everything was in order in the file. She swallowed, a bit nervous. After a few seconds, Schneep looked back up at her and said, “No.”

“You don’t know why you’re here?” Laurens clarified.

“Well…I have some idea,” Schneep admitted. “But I do not see the sense in it.”

Laurens pursed her lips. “I see…” She leaned back in her chair and began rifling through the folder again. “Well, I can try to help you with that. I have some recordings of past events here. I can…remind you of things, and maybe then you’ll, ah, see the sense in it.”

Schneep didn’t say anything. Laurens glanced up at him briefly before turning her attention back to the papers in the folder. She cleared her throat. “So. On August third last year, you were in your office at the hospital when your friend—Jack, correct?” She waited for his stiff nod before continuing. “Your friend Jack showed up, apparently to ask for a check-up. You decided to help, and went with him to an examination room. About forty minutes later, you left the examination room with Jack, except he was losing consciousness. You took him to one of the empty operating rooms and refused aid when offered by some of your coworkers. Five hours later, you left the room, and then the building.”

“I did not leave,” Schneep said quietly.

Laurens jumped, not expecting him to speak. “Well, you were seen leaving. Both by several doctors, nurses, and patients, and the security cameras.”

“I did not leave,” he repeated insistently.

“Well…” Laurens took a deep breath. When Schneep didn’t say anything else, she continued. “Regardless of when or if you left, when one of the nurses next checked the room, Jack was unconscious, in fact, in a coma upon further examination, and surrounded by the tools and evidence of a botched operation.”

“Yes, well, that is true,” Schneep admitted. “I did preform an operation on Jack, once it seemed there was no other option to save his life.”

“From what? According to his medical records, Jack was perfectly healthy at the time.” Laurens pulled out another paper. “Not to mention the examination brought up traces of sedatives in his system, and various other medications he didn’t need.”

“It is…difficult to explain,” Schneep said slowly. He leaned forward. “But it was not my fault. I did not mean for Jack to go into the coma.”

“I believe you.” And really, she did. On that part, at least. She took a deep, shaky breath. She replaced the paper she’d withdrawn. “But what about the others? Those weren’t your fault either?”

Schneep hesitated. “The other…what? I-I do not know what you mean.”

Laurens flipped through the file, glancing back up at him every few seconds. “November 11th, last year. December 21st, last year. December 24th, last year. January 17th, this year. February 5th, this year.” She paused in her flipping. “You don’t recognize these dates? I have more.” Schneep didn’t say anything, eyes cast downward again. She closed the folder. “Thirteen people are dead—”

“Is not my fault!” Schneep’s head whipped upward, eyes wide. He unfolded his arms and banged his hands against the table. Laurens jumped, scooting her chair back an inch. “You must understand that! Nobody does, but it is the truth. It is not my fault.”

Laurens forced herself to lean forward again. The room was silent except for the small sound of her pen rolling across the table. She didn’t bother to grab it again. She smiled; it wavered for a bit before steadying. “You have to look at the facts, Dr. Schneeplestein. You disappear after this operation on your friend, only to be witnessed at the scene of several kidnappings, and the victims turned up later, dead. Killed in a way similar to being operating on, using medical equipment, some of which had your fingerprints. And no one else’s.” She kept the friendly smile plastered on her face, even as she remembered the crime scene photos she’d looked over in preparation for this meeting. If there was ever a definition of a ‘gristly scene’…she hadn’t even thought the human body contained that much blood.

“Okay, I admit how that looks.” Schneep laughed a bit, cutting himself off abruptly. “But trust me. It—it is more complicated than that.”

“Well, can you tell me about it?” Laurens prompted.

Schneep opened his mouth, hesitated, then closed it again. “I…I cannot.”

“You can’t? Why?”

He rubbed his neck. A bit of an odd gesture. Laurens narrowed her eyes. He seemed nervous, or even scared. But then he took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and when he opened them again they were angry. “Because I know you will not believe anything I will say.”

“That’s not tru—”

“It is!” Schneep snapped. Laurens fought the urge to lean backwards again. “It is the nature of this place, even if I give you a reasonable explanation, you will not believe me! You will say it is just in my head.”

“I…you’re justified in thinking that,” Laurens admitted. “But I can promise you, I’ll look to follow up on any explanation you give me. Even if you think I won’t believe you.”

Schneep rolled his eyes. “Forgive me for my doubts. Besides, I do not think you can follow up on this, and even if you could, he—” He clamped a hand over his mouth. His eyes had suddenly gone very wide, the color draining from his face.

“Who’s ‘he’?” Laurens asked curiously.

Schneep shook his head, hand still covering his mouth.

“Well…you can tell me later, if you want,” Laurens said. She tried to sound encouraging. “But in the meantime…if it turns out you aren’t responsible for this, you can leave. And it can’t hurt to take some anti-”—she noticed Schneep jump—“-psychotics in the meantime. Your records say you stopped taking yours sometime in early July last year?”

Schneep’s eyes darted to the left, then to the right, and he nodded, lowering his hand but not saying anything.

“That’s not good, regardless of who you are or what you did,” Laurens said sympathetically. “There should be an orderly on the way with some pills for you to take, if you want. I can stay—” She was cut off by a sudden beep from her pager. She sighed irritably, checking it where it was belted to her waist. The message was short. What pager messages weren’t? She really wished they could be allowed to use their phones inside the main building, but again, it was against regulations. Nothing that could communicate to the world at large was allowed, and had to be dropped off in employee lockers. She looked back up. “I’m really sorry, but I have to go now. You’re okay with waiting a bit while I take care of this?”

He nodded, again staying quiet. His eyes flicked over to a spot over Laurens’ shoulder, then back again. “Thank you so much. Don’t worry, I’ll be right back.” She gathered her folder and stood up. She pushed her chair back under the table, and walked quickly over to the room’s only door. Before leaving, she glanced behind her one more time. Schneep was leaning on the table, and not looking at her. She sighed quietly, and closed the door behind her.
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“Is this important?” Laurens asked quietly as she walked into the next room. “I don’t like leaving patients alone.”

Her boss, Dr. Jennifer Newson, rolled her eyes. “What’s he gonna do? Poke himself?”

“No, I mean…never mind.” Laurens sighed. “What is it?”

Dr. Newson didn’t answer for a while, turning her attention to the one-way window connecting them to the other room. Laurens didn’t approve of that window. The people in the observation room deserved to know if they were being watched. Currently, Schneep was on the other side of the glass, his head in his hands, elbows propped up on the table. “I wanted to ask you if you’re sure,” Dr. Newson said.

“It’s…a little late for that, isn’t it?” Laurens laughed nervously.

“Rya, I’m serious.” Dr. Newson turned to face her. “This is a highly sensitive case, and you just came back from…leave.”

Laurens didn’t like the way she said ‘leave.’ Like she’d skipped out on her duties to drink pina coladas in Costa Rica, instead of taking a break to try out being a personal therapist instead of part of an organized institution. But she didn’t say anything.

“I’m just saying.” Dr. Newson raised her hands like she was being arrested. “If you’re feeling out of your depth, it’s totally fine to ask someone else to take over.”

“Like who? You?”

Dr. Newson shrugged. “Well I mean, if I have to.”

Laurens glanced over to the window. Schneep was sitting up straight, looking around the room. She watched as his eyes settled on looking at something on the wall opposite the window. “Wouldn’t that be…confusing?” she asked.

“What?” Dr. Newson followed her eyes. Schneep was starting to look a little on edge, shoulders raised. His lips moved, but without the intercom on it was impossible to tell what he was saying, if he was saying anything out loud at all. “Oh. He’ll be fine,” Dr. Newson waved Laurens’ concern away. “It’s just one session, it wouldn’t matter.”

“You don’t know that,” Laurens whispered, hugging the folder she was still holding.

“What? Speak up, Rya.”

“I said you don’t know that,” Laurens repeated in a louder voice. “Sometimes people get upset with changes in routine, and it can take just one meeting to establish that routine. I don’t think we should make people upset.”

“Especially not in this case, huh?” Dr. Newson laughed. “It’s gonna be fine. You think we can’t handle one guy?” She jerked her thumb over her shoulder, pointing back out the window without looking.

Laurens glanced out the window again. Schneep had pulled his legs up onto the seat of the chair and was covering his ears. His eyes were tracking some movement along the wall opposite him. He looked…he looked scared. Laurens’ heart twisted. “But…Dr. Newson, I’m really fine with this assignment. I don’t need a transfer.”

Dr. Newson cocked an eyebrow. “You sure? I’ll be honest, you looked a little nervous through that whole talk in there.”

Another glance at the window. The room’s door had opened, and an orderly walked in, balancing a metal tray with a paper cup on one hand. Schneep didn’t notice, staying completely still except for the occasional twitch. “I was kind of nervous,” Laurens admitted. “But that doesn’t mean I’m going to give up when—when someone ne-needs help. I can…only take this assignment, and no others, if it helps. So I can devote full attention to it.”

Dr. Newson sighed. “Alright, fine.” She stepped closer to Laurens, placing a hand on each of her shoulders. “But. If you ever change your mind, come talk to me. I’m sure I could find someone else who’d take this one. And if I can’t, I’m willing to do it myself.” She smiled wide. “Okay?”

Laurens tried not to squirm at the weight of Dr. Newson’s hands on her shoulders, or the pressing sensation of having her boss stand this close to her. “Okay,” she agreed.

“Attagirl!” Dr. Newson clapped her on the back. “Now, you can finish the session. I’ll still be here, watching for anyth—” She turned around. And stopped. “What the fuck?!”

Laurens peered over Dr. Newson’s shoulder, looking at the window. She also froze. And then she dropped the folder and shrieked.

“Go, go, go!” Dr. Newson was pushing her out the door, and she was halfway through before her mind could even process that she was. “Go get someone! I’ll deal with this!”

Laurens sprinted down the hall, half-stumbling, hand tracing the wall for balance. She reached a corner and started shouting, drawing the attention of a pair of orderlies. She wasn’t even truly aware of what she was saying, just that the words ‘accident’ and ‘right now’ were coming up a lot. The orderlies ran towards her, and she gestured for them to follow, heading back towards the observation room. The door was now wide open. Against regulations. She skidded to a halt and stared inside.

The chair had been knocked over at one point. The orderly from before was lying on the floor, his hand pressed against his neck, blood leaking from beneath his fingers, as well as three puncture wounds on his arm. Dr. Newson and Schneep were also on the floor. Dr. Newson was holding Schneep’s wrist in one hand and pushing him against one of the table legs with the other. And Schneep was pushing back, grabbing at her hand with his free one and kicking out. Laurens was admittedly impressed by how unfazed Dr. Newson was. Her eyes drifted over to Schneep’s hand, the one Dr. Newson was determinedly keeping away from her. He was holding her pen. Her pen, which she realized with a jolt that she’d left behind. It was covered in blood. Blood that splashed up his hand and stained the cuff of his sweater.

Dr. Newson glanced over at her and the two orderlies, shouting something about twenty cc’s of something. One of the orderlies rushed to help their injured comrade, the other joining Dr. Newson. Laurens stayed rooted in the doorway, helplessly watching.

Schneep broke away from Dr. Newson and the orderly for a moment, scrambling across the floor. “I am sorry,” he gasped. “Sorry, sorry, sorry, sorry. I did not mean—please—” He broke into laughter, harsh and maniacal. The laughter then turned into a scream. “Leave me alone!” Tears were leaking from his eyes.

The orderly caught up to him, wrapping an arm around him. He was holding a syringe in his other hand, and awkwardly tilted Schneep’s head back and plunged the needle into his neck. Schneep jerked his head away, but it was too late. “Was not my fault!” he shouted. “Was not my fault. Believe, believe. Was not my…fault. Please…” He slowly slumped over, and within thirty seconds he was out.

Dr. Newson stood up, brushing off her sleeves. “God, can’t believe we actually had to do that. That’s supposed to be a last resort.”

“Was there another way?” Laurens asked. But the question was so quiet, it didn’t carry.

“Hey, how’s Jenkins doing?” Dr. Newson asked.

The orderly tending to the injured one looked up. “He’s alright for now, but losing a lot of blood. We need the medical team, now.”

“I’ll page them,” Dr. Newson said, already taking out her pager and flipping it open. As she typed, she looked over to Laurens. “Still wanna take this?”

Laurens glanced down at Schneep, still unconscious and being held by the orderly. The bloody pen had rolled away from his hand. She nodded.

“Wow. Okay. You’re really sure? He just tried to kill someone.”

“That was my fault, Dr. Newson,” Lauren said. “I left the pen in the room.”

“Oh, like he wouldn’t have found a way to do it anyway.” Dr. Newson snapped her pager closed. “But guess it’s your risk to take. Though I suggest you continue the session tomorrow, after he’s had a chance to cool down. Harrison, you can take him back to his room.”

The orderly nodded, standing up, adjusting the way he was holding the unconscious Schneep. “Um, Dr. Newson,” Laurens piped up. “May I accompany them?”

Dr. Newson shrugged. “Sure. Uh…and while you’re there, double-check for anything that can be…used.”

“I will.” Laurens nodded, and followed the orderly out the room and down the hall.

This new assignment was sure to be…interesting. Maybe difficult, though you could never tell this early on. But Laurens was sure of one thing:

Schneep was just as scared of what was going on as the rest of them were.


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