Chapter 1: Awakening in a Nightmare

Chapter 1: Awakening in a Nightmare

The first thing Aanya felt was pain—sharp, searing, and all too real.

Her breath hitched as she struggled to open her eyes, her head throbbing as though someone had driven a nail straight into her skull. The sensation was foreign yet disturbingly vivid, making her stomach churn with unease.

The last thing she remembered was lying in bed, scrolling through the final pages of Whispers of the Mad King. A psychological novel filled with obsession, madness, and an untouchable villain so dangerously captivating that readers couldn't help but be drawn to his twisted allure. Xavier Laurent—the unhinged, power-hungry madman whose love was a death sentence.

But this... this wasn't her bed.

Aanya forced her heavy eyelids open, only to be met with dim, flickering lights. The pungent scent of antiseptic filled her nose, mingling with something metallic—blood. The air was thick, oppressive, and the walls around her were painted in a dull, sickly shade of gray.

This was not her world.

A wave of nausea gripped her as she glanced down, her breath catching in her throat. The body she inhabited was not her own. The hands were slender, paler than she remembered, and an IV line was attached to her arm. Panic surged through her veins as she gritted her teeth, forcing herself to sit up despite the protesting pain in her ribs.

A mirror.

Her gaze darted to the reflective surface across the room, and the moment she saw her reflection, her blood ran cold.

Long, obsidian-black hair cascaded past her shoulders, her stormy gray eyes now sharper, lined with an intensity that didn't belong to her. Her face, though familiar, held a haunting beauty that sent a chill down her spine.

Seraphina Vale.

The name slammed into her consciousness like a freight train. The side character. The insignificant doctor assigned to Rosengard Asylum, destined to be a footnote in Xavier Laurent's ruthless reign.

Realization struck like lightning. She had transmigrated.

"No, no, no—this isn't possible," she whispered, gripping the sheets beneath her in a white-knuckled grasp. Her pulse roared in her ears, her mind racing as she tried to make sense of the impossible.

Just then, a sharp knock echoed against the door.

Aanya—or rather, Seraphina—tensed. Her breath stilled as the door creaked open, revealing a man clad in a crisp white coat. His emerald-green eyes bore into hers with unreadable intensity, his sharp features set in an impassive mask.

Dr. Lucian Graves.

Her heart pounded. She knew him. In the novel, he was the asylum's head psychiatrist—a man of rigid morals and an unwavering sense of justice. He had been one of the few who saw through Xavier's insanity, and yet, even he had been powerless to stop the storm that followed.

"You're awake," Lucian stated, stepping inside. His gaze swept over her, assessing, scrutinizing. "How do you feel?"

Like I've been tossed into a nightmare I can't wake up from.

Aanya swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay composed. "Confused. My head... it hurts."

Lucian nodded, his expression unreadable. "You were found unconscious in your office two days ago. The staff said you collapsed suddenly. Do you recall anything?"

Lies. She needed to tread carefully.

"Not much. Everything is... hazy," she murmured, lowering her gaze to feign disorientation. "How bad was it?"

Lucian hesitated for a fraction of a second before responding. "Your body was under extreme stress. The symptoms pointed to exhaustion and shock, but given your history, I wouldn't be surprised if something else triggered it."

Her history. Right.

Seraphina Vale had a past. A past Aanya knew too well from the novel.

She was an orphan. A prodigy in medicine. And most importantly—she was one of the few doctors who had ever come face to face with Xavier Laurent himself.

And survived.

A shudder ran down her spine at the memory of what she had read. In the novel, Seraphina had only one significant role—to treat Xavier after one of his violent rampages. She had been a ghost in the background, a fleeting presence in his chaotic world.

Until she died.

A brutal, merciless death at the hands of the man who had no capacity for mercy.

Aanya's fingers curled into fists. That wouldn't be her fate. She refused to be a disposable character in someone else's horror story.

"I'll be fine," she muttered, forcing herself to meet Lucian's gaze. "I just need some time."

Lucian didn't look convinced, but he nodded. "I'll have the nurses monitor you. Get some rest."

He turned to leave, but before he could step out, Aanya found herself asking, "Dr. Graves."

He halted, glancing at her over his shoulder.

"Xavier Laurent..." She forced her voice to remain steady. "Is he still in Rosengard?"

A heavy silence fell between them. The air in the room thickened, suffocating.

Lucian's jaw tightened. "Yes. But I'd advise you to stay far away from him, Dr. Vale. For your own good."

With that, he walked out, leaving Aanya alone in the sterile, dimly lit room.

Her heart pounded in her chest.

Xavier Laurent was here. And if the novel was anything to go by, it was only a matter of time before their paths crossed.

And when that happened—she had no idea if she would survive.

What will happen next?