The patient entered the session with slow, hesitant steps and an avoidant gaze, as if he knew something unseen lurked behind him. His hair was disheveled, his eyes wide with anxiety, and his breathing shallow. His hands trembled, betraying a fear that belied his otherwise calm exterior. He reported having recurring nightmares for several years—dreams filled with empty rooms, walls bending impossibly, and whispers that spoke secrets even he could not comprehend. Every time the conversation touched on themes of power, control, or mysterious presence, his body reacted involuntarily, a physical echo of latent trauma and chronic sleep disturbance. Observations: Speech was slow, deliberate, punctuated with long pauses, each sentence laden with psychological horror. Hands and feet twitched repeatedly, as if grappling with an invisible shadow in the room. Multiple references were made to a shadow that, according to him, followed him relentlessly in his environment. He described dark rooms without windows, which he could sense even in daylight.

The door creaked open, echoing through the empty apartment. The air smelled faintly of damp wood and forgotten memories. He stepped inside cautiously, eyes darting to every shadow. Even the faintest sound—a creaking floorboard, the whisper of wind—made him flinch.