The words ring in my head like some blaring fire alarm, ‘obsessive compulsive disorder’—that’s what it says in his file. A person just as crazy as me. The very words that once threatened my dream, the very secret I buried on this day 5 years ago. Life has a way of things, doesn’t it? Whoever is up there laughing at me in this moment, FUCK YOU!
It’s diabolical how I hid my OCD so well…well enough that I landed a job here, I can imagine myself in the patient’s place, covered with blood, chained…caged like the monster I am.
The thought is enough to have chills running through my spine. The possibility of being exposed, of people seeing what I truly am, is indeed terrifying. In fact, it probably is my biggest fear.
He has worse conditions than OCD but those are the only three words that catch my attention. He’s kinda cute, no what the fuck am I thinking he’s crazy…just like me.
Tucking his file under my arm I make my way to the room I’ve been assigned — his room. Knocking on the door, I open it plastering a big wide smile on my face like I always do with my patients. It somehow helps them to be more at ease but for Riven, I don’t know. He fixes me with a scrutinizing stare as if he’s analysing my every move, calculating when to strike…he most probably is doing exactly that, but it doesn’t bother me too much.
“Well, hello Mr. Riven. Nice to meet you. How are you feeling now, considering you were sedated?” I smile through all the words, it always helps. He doesn’t even bother to look at me, his eyes cold, detached, zoned out. “I’m doing better” he replies in a monotone. “I want to ask you a few questions and I want you to reply to them honestly but for now, let’s pause it. Do you want to start with introductions first sir? What would you like to do first ?” I press on.
“Which one’s faster ?”
“The questions…”
“Good, then we start with those” His tone holds quite a lot of arrogance, like he’s trying to bring me down…trying to prove that he’s superior in some way.
Stormy grey eyes meet mine…and they are hunted in the most devastating way possible.
“Okay sir then as you said I will be asking you a few questions and please answer them honestly, It’s for your own betterment. So, firstly, do you feel any guilt or remorse for you victims?” I didn’t want to ask a question like this so soon, but he was the one who wanted to get over with this…I’m just giving him what he wants.
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He gives me a grin, the kind that could shake people to their core—The one which I wore today five years ago. “I don’t feel guilt. I feel her. Every single person that dies counts as my revenge to this universe for wronging her. So, doc, no I don’t feel guilt I feel relief, I feel clarity, I feel her and if killing is the only way I can feel her then so be it…” he replies with a shrug as if he’s talking about something mundane like the weather.
Damn, this man is one of his kind. I write down those chilling words he said on the notepad and God, if it was someone else in here, they would have had shit their pants listening to him…but unfortunately, no one’s normal in this room. Neither me nor him.
“You know compared to the previous shrink, you seem pretty unbothered” He tilts his head, he’s inspecting me, waiting for the moment when I break under his gaze and he strikes. But instead, I mirror his gaze with an almost manic one of my own, a small glimpse of the craziness just beneath the surface—he flinches internally but that expression is gone as quickly as it came…but not quick enough to go unnoticed. The fact that he’s disturbed in my presence even if it’s just a tiny bit has a heady mix of power and ego rushing to me. We both look at each other, manic stares on both our faces before I clear my throat and go back to the psychiatrist persona. He seems rather confused with this sudden change—perfect, exactly what I want, Confuse him and then gaslight him.
“Moving on to the next question sir, do you remember the exact reason and way you killed all of your victims?” I still have a smile plastered on my face but its not like the grin before, this one is composed and professional.
“Each and every single one of them…I don’t forget. In fact, I even have little souvenirs from each adventure—you know maybe a piece of torn cloth or their hair. If you want, I can sit back and tell u the names of all 24 of them along with the reason why I killed them and a bit on their background.” He leans in close as far as the chains allow him to “anything for you pretty shrink.”
He wants me to break, he wants to see me run as fast as I can in the other direction,
But I won’t…
