A renowned surgeon, Dr. Aanya Malhotra, finds herself trapped in a spine-chilling novel she read the previous night—a novel brimming with obsession, insanity, and an enigmatic villain whose very name sent shivers down readers' spines.

The original story followed an unhinged, dangerously intelligent villain—Xavier Laurent—who was obsessively in love with the novel's female lead. He razed cities, eliminated rivals, and orchestrated psychological warfare, all in his pursuit of love.

But Aanya is not the female lead. She’s merely a side character—a doctor stationed at a mental asylum, fated to meet an untimely demise.

Yet, things take a sinister turn. Xavier Laurent, a man as unhinged as he is hypnotic, shifts his deadly obsession…

To her.

Main Characters:

Dr. Aanya Malhotra (Now Dr. Seraphina Vale)

Age: 26

Occupation: Top cardiothoracic surgeon in her previous world, now the head doctor at the Rosengard Asylum in this new world.

Appearance: Long obsidian-black hair, stormy gray eyes with silver flecks, a sharp yet delicate face that exudes both intelligence and allure.

Personality: Logical, composed, and resourceful. Aanya doesn’t believe in supernatural forces, yet she’s forced to confront the surreal reality of her transmigration. She refuses to be a mere side character awaiting doom.

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Xavier Laurent (The Villain, Now The Male Lead)

Age: 30

Occupation: CEO of Laurent Industries & Secret Ruler of the Underground.

Appearance: Midnight-black hair, hypnotic violet eyes that flicker between indifference and insanity, an aristocratic yet dangerously charming face.

Personality: Obsessive, unpredictable, and calculating. He is a man of absolute control, yet something about Aanya—now Seraphina—throws his entire world into disarray.

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Eleanor Vance (The Original Female Lead)

Age: 24

Occupation: Heiress of the Vance Conglomerate.

Appearance: Auburn hair, cerulean-blue eyes, and a delicate, angelic beauty.

Personality: Kind yet naïve, oblivious to Xavier’s true nature.

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Lucian Graves (The Male Supporting Character)

Age: 28

Occupation: Detective investigating Xavier Laurent’s underground dealings.

Appearance: Ash-brown hair, emerald-green eyes, rugged yet handsome features.

Personality: Cynical but just. Has a strong sense of morality and becomes one of Aanya’s unexpected allies.

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The Setting:

The world is a twisted version of reality—a place where power, wealth, and secrets dictate survival. Rosengard Asylum is at the heart of the chaos, housing the most enigmatic and dangerous minds. And among them is Xavier Laurent—the most terrifying of them all.

But Aanya’s fate is no longer that of a mere side character.

Because the villain’s eyes are now on her.

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Let's see what happens

By y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y y

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.

**Chapter 2: The Asylum’s Labyrinth**

......................

The corridors of Rosengard Asylum were a chiaroscuro of shadows and flickering fluorescence, each step Seraphina took echoing like a dirge. Her new identity clung to her like a second skin—ill-fitting, suffocating. Yet survival demanded adaptation.

She memorized the asylum’s layout from the novel: the West Wing housed non-violent patients, the East Wing was a fortress of padded cells and iron bars, and the subterranean level... that was where *he* resided. Xavier Laurent. The Mad King.

Lucian’s warning reverberated in her mind, but curiosity was a siren’s call. *Knowledge is armor*, she told herself.

"Dr. Vale," a nurse greeted, her voice tremulous. "Patient Seven in Ward B is febrile. He’s asking for you."

*Patient Seven.* The asylum’s coded nomenclature for its most dangerous residents. Seraphina’s pulse quickened. *Not him. Not yet.*

"Prepare antipyretics and a sedative," she ordered, her tone steadier than she felt. "I’ll assess him shortly."

The nurse paled. "But Dr. Vale, he’s—"

"—under my care," Seraphina interjected, channeling Aanya’s surgical precision. "I’ll handle it."

---

**Ward B** was a crypt of whispers. The air reeked of bleach and desperation. Behind a reinforced glass door, a man thrashed against leather restraints, his roars guttural, inhuman.

Seraphina’s fingers tightened around her stethoscope. *This isn’t the OR. These aren’t sterile problems.*

"His fever spiked an hour ago," the nurse said, hovering at the threshold. "He claims he’s burning from the inside."

Seraphina approached the bed, her gaze clinical. The patient’s pupils were dilated, veins bulging like inkblots beneath his skin. *Poison? Psychotropic overdose?*

"Who administered his last dose of medication?" she demanded.

"Dr. Graves. Per protocol."

A muscle in Seraphina’s jaw twitched. Lucian’s protocols were meticulous, but the novel had hinted at sabotage—a mole in Rosengard, feeding information to Xavier.

"Draw blood for toxicology," she instructed. "And cancel all further sedatives until we rule out—"

A laugh cut through the room. Low, melodic, and laced with madness.

Seraphina froze.

The sound came from the corner—a figure slouched in shadows, wrists cuffed to a chair. His head tilted lazily, violet eyes glinting like shards of amethyst under moonlight.

"Hello, Doctor."

Xavier Laurent’s voice was silk wrapped around a dagger.

Her breath hitched. The novel had described his allure, but reality was a sucker punch. His beauty was grotesque—a fallen angel carved from marble and malice.

"You’re not supposed to be here," she said coldly, though her pulse betrayed her.

His lips curved. "And yet, here I am. Fascinating, isn’t it? How the universe bends to my whims."

She turned to leave, but his next words coiled around her like a noose.

"Tell me, Seraphina Vale... do you taste copper when you lie?"

---

**The Observation Room**

Lucian’s fist slammed against the one-way glass. "What is she *doing* in there?!"

The guard stammered, "Sh-she insisted, sir. Said it was her duty."

"Duty?" Lucian snarled. "Laurent’s a viper. He doesn’t converse—he dissects."

On the other side of the glass, Seraphina stood rigid, her face a mask of icy composure. Xavier leaned forward, chains clinking, his gaze predatory.

"Your hands are trembling, Doctor," he purred. "But not from fear. From *recognition*. You see it too, don’t you? The rot festering in this place."

She met his stare. "You’re delusional."

"Am I?" He laughed, the sound jagged. "Then why does your heartbeat sing to me? *Lub-dub. Lub-dub.* So... *alive*."

Seraphina recoiled. *He can hear it?*

In the novel, Xavier’s hyper-awareness bordered on supernatural—a side effect of his psychosis, the author had implied. But fiction was one thing. This...

"Stay out of my head," she hissed.

His smile widened. "But where’s the fun in that, little sparrow?"

---

**Later, in Her Office**

Seraphina stared at the bloodwork report, her mind racing. The toxicology screen was clean. No toxins. No drugs.

*Impossible.* The patient’s symptoms suggested acute poisoning, yet...

A knock interrupted her thoughts. Lucian stood in the doorway, his expression stormy.

"You interrogated Laurent."

"Observed," she corrected. "And he’s not the source of the outbreak."

"Outbreak?" Lucian’s brow furrowed.

"Three patients now present with identical symptoms—fevers, hallucinations, vascular distress. It’s not random. It’s a pattern."

Recognition flickered in Lucian’s eyes. "You think someone’s testing a substance on them?"

"Or *someones*," she said pointedly. "Laurent’s empire spans biotech. He’d have the means."

Lucian shook his head. "He’s been incarcerated here for months. No outside contact."

Seraphina leaned back, steepling her fingers. "And you trust your staff implicitly?"

The question hung between them, charged.

---

**Midnight, Subterranean Level**

Xavier Laurent traced a finger along the cold steel wall of his cell, humming a lullaby only he remembered. The guard outside slumped unconscious, a syringe glinting in the dim light.

The door creaked open.

"Took you long enough," Xavier drawled without turning.

A figure stepped inside, face obscured by a hood. "The doctor suspects."

Xavier’s grin was feral. "Let her. She’s far more entertaining than Eleanor ever was."

"You promised me protection," the figure hissed.

"Ah, but promises are such fragile things." Xavier rose, his chains falling away—fake, always fake. "Tell me... does she dream of me yet?"

The figure hesitated. "She’s not like the others."

"Precisely." Xavier’s violet eyes gleamed. "She’s the first knot in my unraveling. And I do so love to... *tug*."

---

**End of Chapter 2**