Delirium Novels & Stories

My appetite was long gone. After Scarlett, none came into my room. The whole house was a mess. Shattered glasses, furniture, and blood were everywhere. The next morning, I woke up with a bitter headache and red eyes. I managed to freshen up and take a quick shower but didn't make a move to leave the room. The previous night's activities would keep rolling in my mind if I let myself get outside. I couldn't believe that Delilah was dead. I never thought that Delilah was mentally ill. She just needed help but her father used her as a weapon and forced her into his criminal organization.

My name filled in where Claire's and Madison's had been. Diagnosis: Delusional disorder with erotomania features. Recommended treatment: Long-term psychiatric hospitalization. Declan's signature at the bottom, bold and undeniable. "He was going to have me committed." The words came out hollow. "He was planning my erasure just like the others."

It’s a wife's intuition" Emilia tried to sound cold. “I know my husband, he would never do anything to harm me. You’ve just been messing with him. I’ve heard all the rumors about you. You’re nothing but a mere stripper.” For the first time, Delilah's composure cracked slightly. Her eyes widened just a fraction before she recovered. "That must be very difficult for you, Mrs Romano," Delilah said carefully. "You’ve been reduced to hallucinations and hearing things that are not real. Stress can do strange things to a person's mind. I’m just your husband’s assistant. You’re seeing threats where there aren't any."

Chief Physician Moren nearly dropped his pen, one of the scholars looked seconds away from forgetting how breathing worked, and even Selene’s quill stopped above the parchment mid-sentence. Across the chamber, Halrem stared at Draevor in complete stillness as the realization settled heavily over everyone present. The barbarian had somehow turned an elite physician symposium into a public medical confession. After a long moment, she quietly lowered the protocol sheet onto the table. “Chief Moren,” she said without taking her eyes off Draevor, “kindly note a new syndrome for the infirmary records.” Moren swallowed. “Y-yes, Your Majesty.” “Advanced northern delusion,” Halrem continued coolly. “

"You were found stabbed in the arm and bleeding out on your balcony after a robber entered your penthouse on December thirty first, according to security footage. Your blindfold will be removed, and you will be tested further upon your calming down." Silence followed, and the man spoke again. "You are currently tied up due to your delusions of persecution that prompted abnormal metarepresentation and violence, so please try to understand. We believe you have delusions of grandeur and sensory hallucination. Within a week, your serotonin and dopamine system will be monitored with extensive ERP scannin..." Uriel zoned out.

The conversation was less new information and more confirmation. Earlier in the day they'd lessened her medication, trying to lure her out of her drug-induced sleep. Dr. Miller said it isn't good to keep her that way. They'd hoped that she'd been unconscious long enough to have missed the severe delirium tremens—the DTs. But as she began to come out of the medicine, she became delirious, hallucinating and shaking. Before they could restrain her again, she attacked herself, scratching at her own skin. It took multiple orderlies, but they stopped her before she tore her face, once again restraining her hands.

"Reinforced glass partition. Security personnel nearby. You can leave at any time." "What's his current mental state?" Olivia asked. "Fluctuating. He has periods of clarity mixed with delusional episodes. The physical symptoms are constant—the tremors, the paralysis. But mentally, he's... unstable." "Define unstable," I said. "He sometimes believes he's still running his company. Asks staff about meetings that don't exist, projects that were never real. Other times he's lucid and expresses what appears to be genuine remorse." "Appears to be?"

“Heartbeat slightly fast, but within safe range. Breathing also fairly stable.” Catrine held Rebecca’s arm, worried. “Why is she speaking strangely, Doctor? Why doesn’t she recognize us?” The doctor packed up his tools, then looked at them seriously. “Madam, Sir, this is a common reaction for patients after a long coma. Remember, Ellya has been asleep for over a year. Her brain must be disoriented upon waking. This condition is called post-traumatic confusion. Patients may think they’re someone else, or even create a different identity.”

Delilah's eyes fluttered open, her vision blurred and swimming with confusion. A dull ache pulsed through her head as she tried to make sense of her surroundings. She found herself standing in the middle of a hall, the walls adorned with unfamiliar objects and strange markings. Panic began to rise within her chest as she struggled to remember how she got there. She blinked rapidly, trying to clear her vision, but the disorientation persisted. With shaky steps, she stumbled forward, her hands reaching out instinctively to steady herself against the cool surface of the wall. As she moved, a series of beeps echoed around her, their sound sharp and alarming.

Another pause, longer this time. “Memory gaps after intimacy aren’t normal unless alcohol or drugs are involved,” Daniel said evenly. “Especially if it’s a complete gap. That suggests sedation.” The word seemed to settle in the air between them. Sedation. Elliot swallowed. “What sort of drugs?” “Benzodiazepines. Strong sleep medication. Anything that depresses the central nervous system.” Daniel’s tone shifted slightly. “Why? What’s happened?” “Nothing,” Elliot replied too quickly. “Curiosity.”