|
|
Post by Ayen on Aug 3, 2011 22:07:43 GMT -6
“Doctor Mathers overseeing Patient #6274.”
The room was…. gray. Very gray and very small. Big enough to fit in one table with a chair on each side and maybe three or four more people but that was it. The door to the right opened up and being accompanied by two guards was the woman herself. The same woman who tore her arm through a wall and choked the life out of a pastor’s throat while still inside the confessional. Her long raven black hair covering her face, dressed in all white with her hands tied up at the front. She was escorted to the chair where she sat quietly before the guards left the room for the doctor to conduct his “therapy” of the woman now sitting across from him.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Mathers asked.”
The female remained quiet, simply staring towards the doctor through the strings of hair in her face. Making out a man with short curly brown hair and hazel eyes, looking to be into his late twenties. It was hard to tell how tall he was while sitting down but he looked to be around six feet, average build, fairly attractive, in her mind at least. You couldn’t tell what she was thinking on her face, and not just because there were only bits of it exposed either.
“Your face is covered.”
The doctor of the painfully obvious. The woman moved a single string of hair over her right eye, the dark brown eye now staring into his, sizing him up, still keeping her first impressions of the good doctor to herself. Dr. Mathers had a video camera set nearby to record the session. She looked at that for a moment before finally bringing her hands up to her hair and combing it back, finally revealing her face to both doctor and camera.
“There. That’s much better.”
“Is it everything you’ve ever dreamed of, Doctor?”
Small hints of a seductive tone lied underneath her words, especially when “doctor” left her lips but they were lost on him. He signaled for her to look at the camera but she was much more interested in looking at him, reading his facial expressions and body language as he carried on with the session.
“Patient is suffering from delusions….”
“Delusions.”
“Prone to random outbursts of violence….”
“Not so random.”
“Believes herself to be a vampire.”
“Rawr!” she replied mockingly, opening her mouth and biting her teeth teasingly towards the doctor.
“You say your outbursts are not trigger at random?”
“I didn’t say all that now. But everything has a purpose.”
“And your vampricy? What purpose does that serve?”
“You’d have to ask the man upstairs. He’s the one who made the bastard that turned me.”
The woman leaned forward from her chair, arms now plopped up on the table as her eyes fell upon the name tag: Dr. William Mathers.
“Are you a spiritual man, William? Can I call you William?”
“I’d prefer it if you would call me Dr. Mathers.”
“Then I’d prefer it if you would call me Ms. Melantha Arachne. But I much rather you call me “Melantha.”
“Arachne. Your father was Father Methusela Arachne.”
“In a manner of speaking,” replied Melantha.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean the “Father” wasn’t much of a father. You never answered my question.”
“Baptist.”
“Baptist…. Catholic myself as you have no doubt already guessed.”
“Your father was found dead in his home two weeks ago with his wife, your mother, where were you during all of this?”
“You tell me, William. Where was I during all of that?”
“Doctor Mathers,” corrected William.
“Yes, yes of course!”
“Did you kill your father?”
A small smile curved her lips.
“I believe I have the right to remain silent on that, Doctor.”
“You were already arrested on charges of murder and found “not guilty” by reason of insanity. That’s why you’re here.”
“I’m sure the DA loved that verdict. She had such a powerful closing argument about me.”
“What was your relationship with your father?”
Melantha was quiet for a moment, leaning back against her chair while never breaking eye contact with William, not caring at all about the camera recording her or who it would be shown to.
“Distant.”
“Why?”
“He was always working. Always at the church doing this, or that. Never had much time for us.”
“Us being you and your mother? Any siblings?”
“One. My sister.”
“Where is she now?”
“Who knows. Disappeared right before they turned up dead. Suspicious, if you ask this humbled vampire.”
She smiled again, rubbing her chin lightly with her right hand while the doctor still didn’t know what to make of Melantha.
“What was life like growing up?”
“Trying to find the key to my psyche through my father, Doctor? He never abused me sexually if that’s what you’re going after.”
“Did he abuse you in other ways?”
“He would beat me when I was bad.”
“Can you specify on that?”
Melantha leaned up towards the doctor again, licking her lips and looking at him more seductively than usual. Like she could just eat him up.
“When I was naughty, Doctor. One time he caught me masturbating to the LA Lakers Point Guard and he just beat the shit out of me, or the “sin” as he would call it. My father, when I was bad, would often drag me down to the basement, sound proofed, not a soul could hear us down there, and beat me down with a belt. Some times, if I’m real lucky, he’ll get out a whip, rip the back of my shirt open and deliver thirty-nine lashes to my back.”
“Was anyone aware of this?”
“The only ones who knew were the ones who wouldn’t speak out, daddy made sure of that.”
“So the scars found on your back was from the whipping?”
Melantha nodded before replying, “I was always too afraid to go to the police. Now I guess it doesn’t matter.”
“Is that why you killed the priest? He reminded you of your father?”
“I killed him because he was a child molester and now he is burning in hell where he belongs!”
“No evidence was found to support your claim that he ever touched a child.”
“There never is.”
“Let talk about your mother, what was she like?”
“Fragile little thing. I was always afraid she could fall apart at any moment.”
“Did your father ever abuse her or your sister?”
“He never touched my sister. Mother sure. But never my sister.”
“Why not?”
“She never gave him reason to. Not like me apparently. No I--- I was always the disobedient one.”
“Masturbating to men you find attractive is hardly what I’d call disobedience.”
“Catholic.”
“Not all Catholics beat their children for what they consider to be sinning.”
“No? No. Perhaps not….”
“Were you close with your sister?”
“I used to be,” replied Melantha grimly.
“What changed?”
“She did! She became alienated from the rest of us right up until her disappearance.”
“Where does your “vampricy” fit into all of this?”
“One day I decided “enough is enough!” and ran away from home! I slipped out of my window while everyone else was asleep and ran as far away from them as I could. While I’m running down the street I hear a noise. Quiet at first, then, then it became louder. I turned around and a man grabbed me by the throat and slam me to the wall. At first I thought it was my father but no, I heard an evil hiss and naturally assumed that the devil had caught me. His eyes were blood-shot, his breath, his whole body even, reeked with death. And then he bit me. Right here---” Melantha tapped against the vein on the right side of her neck--- “I tried to fight back but couldn’t. He overpowered me. When he was finished he ripped open the front of his shirt and sliced himself right above his breast, forcing my lips to taste it. The next thing I remember I wake up in a forest surrounded by wolves wanting to eat me. They bit me, clawed all over my body but I managed to kill them all. Every last one.”
“What happened to those wounds?”
“Healed over instantly.”
“But the scars from the whip remained?”
“My vampricy is unable to heal any scars made before my turning.”
“You’re sure this man was a vampire?”
“Do I have to throw myself out in broad daylight and catch fire for you people to believe me?”
“You know what I think? I think you were attacked by a raging lunatic. I think your imagination made him into a vampire and you made yourself believe you were a supernatural entity of urban legend so you could feel in control. So you didn’t have to fear your father’s shadow anymore. Are you a big vampire fan, Melantha?”
“I like Bram Stoker’s work. Anna Rice. None of that Stephanie Meyer bullshit all the teenage girls and old ladies are into these days. I don’t glitter! That theory is good by the way. The whole “you made yourself believe you were a supernatural entity of urban legend so you could feel in control” very nice. You stay up all night with that one?”
“Now you’re getting defensive.”
“I AM NOT GETTING DEFENSIVE!”
Melantha slammed her fist down into the table, breaking right through it. Right when William thought she was going to attack him she calmed herself down while the door came swinging open and more guards rushed in.
“I’m fine! He’s fine! Everything’s fi---! Get off me!”
The guards grabbed her, forcing her up from the chair and out of the room.
“DON’T TOUCH ME!”
Melantha knocked one back into the wall and started to fight off the others. One man was thrown right through the wall back into the doctor's room and crashed into the table before another guard snuck up from behind and gave her a shot. She felt her body starting to go numb, her vision blurring up until finally everything went black. |
|
