At first, it seemed like a coincidence. Maybe a medical error, maybe a misdiagnosed condition. But when five women from a high-security psychiatric ward ended up pregnant within a few months — the doctors realized something unexplainable was happening.

The clinic was isolated, surrounded by thick woods and secured with towering fences. Inside, patients lived under strict surveillance — women diagnosed with severe mental disorders: schizophrenia, delusions, deep psychosis, trauma-induced dissociation. Their days were structured to the minute: meals, medication, therapy. And they were supposedly monitored 24/7.

The first pregnancy stunned the attending psychiatrist. A 42-year-old woman, almost completely nonverbal, diagnosed with paranoid schizophrenia, with no access to the outside world — was suddenly confirmed to be eight weeks pregnant.

Pregnancy in a psychiatric institution is a serious incident. An immediate investigation was launched. Surveillance footage — clean. Visitor logs — spotless. Staff routines — fully accounted for. No violations, no gaps.

Three weeks later, another patient was pregnant. Then a third. And then two more. All unrelated. All women who, in theory, could never be left unsupervised, let alone have physical contact with anyone outside the facility.

At first, suspicion fell on the orderlies. Several were temporarily suspended, subjected to grueling interrogations, polygraph tests. Security was intensified. Cameras were added in new angles, even in spaces previously considered off-limits due to ethics. One security guard committed suicide, leaving a chilling note:
«It’s not me. But you’ll never catch who’s doing this. He comes when you’re not here.»

With five pregnant patients and no clear explanation, panic spread. Families filed formal complaints. The Ministry of Health initiated a special oversight committee. The reputation of the clinic was hanging by a thread.

Then came a disturbing clue.

Some patients began whispering strange things during therapy sessions. Phrases like “the garden where no one watches,” or “he comes at night like he used to.” Initially dismissed as delusions, the eerily similar phrasing in unrelated patients’ statements made the doctors reconsider.

That’s when they made a bold move. An unused storage room was found on the blueprints — one that hadn’t been entered in years. Inside was an old ventilation shaft leading out of the facility. The shaft wasn’t listed on any recent building plans. They installed a hidden infrared camera.

What the camera recorded was more terrifying than anyone expected.

Late at night, when the ward was quiet, the camera captured several women silently entering the storage room, one by one. They didn’t speak. They didn’t look at each other. Their movements were slow and robotic. They waited.

Then, from the shaft, a man emerged.

His face wasn’t visible, but his familiarity with the space was obvious. He moved confidently, silently. And the women approached him willingly. No force. No resistance. No fear. Their eyes were blank. Their expressions — empty. It was as if they were hypnotized.

The acts were swift. The man would disappear back into the shaft. The women would return to their rooms as if nothing happened.

When the footage was shown to the authorities, shock turned to horror. A manhunt began. The shaft was sealed. The facility went into lockdown.

And then — they caught him.

He was a former patient. Released years ago after being declared stable. But he never really left. He had been living in the nearby woods, surviving off stolen supplies and scraps. And he had an extraordinary ability: he could manipulate minds.

Even during his initial treatment, doctors had noted his bizarre influence over other patients. He could quiet an entire room just by standing in it. He could make others obey, cry, smile — on command. Back then, they assumed it was a symptom of his condition. But it wasn’t.

He wasn’t sick. He was something else.

He was finally contained, and the women were transferred to different institutions. The clinic was cleared — or so they thought.

Because something worse remained.

The women didn’t fear him. They missed him.

In their new wards, they began exhibiting the same behavior: staring into corners, whispering into the dark, smiling at nothing. A sixth woman became pregnant. Then a seventh.

Security footage from a different hospital caught one woman murmuring a phrase repeatedly in her sleep:

“He’s still with us. You just can’t see him anymore.”

This was never just about one man.

It’s about something else. Something that came through with him. Something that still lingers.

Because sometimes, what slips through the walls isn’t human — and it never leaves.