Prologus

There is a place that is not on the maps. A place that only shines in the broken, cobweb-woven minds of older women as a memento.

THE INFINITE FOREST CLINIC has been established for a hundred years. It was created by Robert Ledoux and his wife, Mary Ledoux, in 1919, exactly one year after World War I, when the number of people struggling with mental health problems suddenly skyrocketed due to the terrible ordeals of the war. This place is not home to an average hospital; it was a vast countryside, the territory of a carefully maintained Mental Hospital.

The estate was called the ENDLESS FOREST, and the building of the Institution itself was once built by a wealthy Victorian prince for his own pleasure. The name referred to the mountains surrounding the estate and the Clinic in its heart.

And nowadays to what's left of it.

THE CLINIC, WHICH WAS WORKING WELL, was now in its final days. The iron gate squeaked eerily every time even a soft breeze hid between its rusty iron bars. Grass rising high across the estate ran through and suffocated the landscape. The once magnificent, pale yellow whitewashed building now mourns the time and painful minutes of passing with crumbling plaster.

At the wrought iron gate is a "ENTRY IS STRICTLY PROHIBITED! PRIVATE AREA!" labeled hanging. It was superfluous, people did not venture not only into the territory of the Infinite Forest Clinic, but even into its surroundings. No one was attracted to a pile of rubble from the last century.

Except for a company of five ..