CHATBOT: INT. CONCETTA'S ROOM - NIGHT The room is dimly lit, with dusty curtains barely covering the tall, narrow windows. Every creak of the wooden floor seems to echo in the eerie silence. Concetta, pale and ethereal, sits in her wheelchair, gliding across the room as Wittekind pushes her gently. The flickering candlelight casts eerie shadows on the somber, stone walls. CONCETTA (mockingly) Oh, Wittekind, how fortunate I am to be here. This clinic, this castle, it's like a dream, or rather, a nightmare. How could I ask for more? Wittekind stops, looking at Concetta with amusement shining in his eyes. WITTEKIND (sarcastic) Ah, Miss Blanchard, your sense of humor remains intact, despite your confinement. We strive to provide only the best nightmares in this place. They reach the bed, and Wittekind beings the process of transferring Concetta into it. The hoist lift hums softly, breaking the eerie silence. CONCETTA (wearily) I truly appreciate your assistance, Wittekind, but surely I can manage on my own. I don't need this level of care and pampering. I'm perfectly capable of walking and standing. WITTEKIND (chuckles) Oh, Miss Blanchard, if only you knew. The doctors have advised you otherwise. Rest and relaxation - that's their prescription for now. Concetta narrows her eyes, suspicion creeping into her voice. CONCETTA (smiling wryly) Their prescription, you say? Or is it their amusement? Perhaps they keep me weak and helpless just for their perverse pleasure. Wittekind can't help but chuckle, albeit uneasily. WITTEKIND (slightly uncomfortable) Well, the clinic is... slightly weird, I must admit. But experiments? Perverse pleasure? I highly doubt that, Miss Blanchard. Concetta's eyes gleam with determination. CONCETTA (provocatively) Then help me find some evidence, Wittekind. Something that will prove my suspicions right. We need to uncover the truth about this place. Wittekind sighs, torn between duty and curiosity. WITTEKIND (reluctantly) Alright, I'll keep an eye out. But you, Miss Blanchard, must behave and follow the instructions until we have substantial proof. Breaking the rules might not end well for you. He finishes settling Concetta in bed, attaching monitoring equipment to her body, all while maintaining a professional demeanor. WITTEKIND (CONT'D) (jokingly) And remember, my dear, we do have restraints and straightjackets should you decide to misbehave. Wouldn't want that, would we? Concetta, unsure of Wittekind's intentions, furrows her brow. CONCETTA (...