"π°ππππ πππ, π’ππ πππ’π πππ πππππ π πππ ππ πππ πππ πππ‘π πππ‘ ππππππ."
That's what the doctor said, that's what was unnerving him. He had finally gotten somewhat familiar with his previous shrink, gotten her to believe his act of being hurt and mistreated by the system when in truth his problems lied much deeper and were far more sinister. None the less he had a good relationship with her, until she recommended him off. Maybe he should've been a more unruly sort of patient? Someone she couldn't sent off to others in good conscience? All the months they spend together, the years, and in the end SHE HAD TO SENT HIM OFF TO SOME RANDOM FUCK?
6 more months, if his drug store doctor wasn't back the next day he'd most likely lose it.
Interrupting his thoughts, someone else appeared, Joe was his name. He looked tough and gave off the impression of being streetwise. Did he say he was with the cartels? And now he wants to stay hidden...if he was indeed telling the truth then their whole group might as well have a target on their back with him around. But he looked physically capable and you could easily imagine him doing all sorts of crimes, he fits the type to a T.
Since he turned to look at Joe he took the chance to study the others, or that's what he wanted to do but the second his eyes left the thug the shadows silently crept out of his vision, like they had been staying there all along, silently observing him. He was starting to feel sick so he turned back in front of him. Nothing visible on his face but his mind was racing like crazy, trying to find something, anything to keep momentarily forgetting. His hands started shaking a little so he rubbed them together, passing it off like a cold, but his cold would never go away.
No matter, from the moment that he entered he memorized their faces and general appearance. He was certain that man was John Dorman-Smith, the rich guy, who has allegedly partaken if not organized [insert any major crime here]. No one in his branch of the company had to make any reports on his and/or his activities so he wouldn't know much. But that couldn't be. He could very well buy a psychiatrist for life, and not in the legal way, to be at his beck and call all day. He also had many enemies if even 1 of those alleged crimes really happened. Great, 2 targets on their group right now, who had the other people angered?
The other 2 were women, one was a teen. Their faces didn't ring any bells from any recent news articles. At least they didn't have some crime syndicate chasing them...most likely.
Interrupting his thoughts again, another person came in late after him. He didn't dare turn around and in the end he didn't have to as he sat next to him. Throughout all this his body was relaxed along with his face. He had to make a conscious effort most of the time to keep the relaxed persona up. Consequently, focusing on appearing relaxed took his mind off...things, actually making him more relaxed.
***
"..πΈ ππ π πππ ππ ππ ππ ππ‘ππππππ. πΎπ πππ’ππ π’ππ πππππ ππππ ππ π ππππππ βππππβ, ππ ππππππππππ ππππ ππ ππππ.β
Here it began. Was this doctor going to use some never seen before method of treatment? Were his doubts true? Had his own doctor sold him out, telling him the lie that nothing but "usual talking" would happen? Then the doctor began with the water slide exercise. From the first instruction he had already failed. He couldn't close his eyes, not now, or else the radiating essence of that thing would become to unbearable for him to endure and keep a calm persona at the same time. So he just bowed his head so no one could see his eyes. By how the doctor described it, nothing too out of the ordinary. Find something good and hold on to it. You could ask a prison inmate and they would give you the same advice.
The lights were dimmed and an exotic smell started to permeate the air as other sources of lights appeared all around him. Scented candles? That was the big treatment method? He was suddenly reminded of the church he used to go to. How the priest would light the incense and spread it around. Supposedly it represented the prayers of man rising to the heavens. Other occult groups used it to make contact with spirits as he had researched in preparation for visiting that tribe 7 years ago. In his case, it was most likely to set the mood, a relaxant of sorts. But again, judging from the fact that their group had 2 targets on their back...and he couldn't shake this eerie feeling about the situation. Or it could be that thing again.
The 2 girls asked about the smell and his thoughts were confirmed as much as the doctor was to be believed, it was a relaxant.
Then the doctor left.
.
.
.
Joe was the first to react then Dreymund got up. Joe's reaction and a smell that wasn't clean air was making him nerveous, contrary to what the doctor said he wanted to achieve. Who gets up in the middle of a mental excericize and leaves their patients? He went for the window when he noticed the salt like material on his feet. He looked around the room and he saw it scattered all around the office. Following the lines...did it form a pattern? There was only one use that he knew of for a salt circle.
"Ahahahahahahaha"-the bearded man started laughing to himself in a low tone-"He is even crazier than I am."
Magic? Rituals? If he himself knew that was was afflicting him was some kind of mental disease, possibly contracted by some unknown pathogen in Africa. Here he was, the patient suffering with a mental disease, and there goes his doctor playing Might and Magic, Occult, Wizard and Witches. Gandalf The White coat. Licensed psychiatrist his ass.
Then he noticed the sound. That dreadful sound which echoed through the halls of the building and into the walls of his mind. It didn't feel right, he wasn't feeling right. He closed his eyes on instinct like it could actually block out the noise but then he felt another closer presence still around him. The fear temporarily overrode that strangeness that was beginning to envelope him and he rushed for the window to open it.
"..everybody stay calm.."- the voice of someone else talking registered in his mind. A woman. He couldn't think, he needed some fresh air.
Dawnpath
souleaterfan320
embrace the moe