Psychotherapy: Principium

[WP] You grip your sword tight as you size up the monstrous figure before you. "I'm sorry to interrupt," you say. "But I'm a licensed therapist, and my client wants you out of his/her head. And I assure you, I am very good at my job."

*****

Jonathan McGuire.

That was my name. The name his mother, who was a single mom, gave him. She got knocked up by her highschool sweetheart after prompt, and then he left the country, cutting off all relations with his mom.

His mother grew up a depressed, demented woman. He was lucky she didn't take out her aggressions and sadness on him, but sometimes he wanted her to. He wanted her to express emotion. To show she was alive. To show she cared about what he did - good or bad.

But she has nothing but a sad, depressed reaction on her face throughout the time he knew her. On his high school graduation day, she went with him to the event, smiled when he gave the valedictorian speech, took a lot of pictures and then came back to the house with him, treating him to a buffet.

That same night, she overdosed on her sleeping pills and died.

Jonathan did not cry. Not only was he too broken and devoid of emotions, but he also expected it to happen. He had seen how she was going, the depression, the trauma.

The monsters.

He could see their tentacles protruding from her back, feeding off her consciousness, and her life force. He watched them drain her. He tried to save her.

Jonathan was always a wwird kid. He was considered to be a hippy freak, yet he was intelligent. He wore strange clothes with bright psychedelic designs,and no one knew why.

He was trying to battle the demons, the demons that plagued people mentally.

From the moment he was able to decide right and wrong, he was able to see the demons. As he grew, he began to amass enough spiritual energy to battle them. He won some battles in his school, amongst people he eventually made friends with. People with mild suicidal thoughts and tendencies. He talked to them on the surface, but worked inside their subconscious, battling these mosnters I tol.he killed them off.

It would cause him headaches and nosebleeds sometimes, but eventually he would save them.

His mother was the only one who got away. The one he could not save, no matter how hard he tried. He could only extend her life by a few days, stall death for a while, but the monsters were too strong, and he was too weak.

They ravaged her until she had nothing to give, and then she killed herself.

Jonathan bevmcane a therapist for this very purpose.

*****

"Right this way ma'am, Dr. McGuire will see you now," his secretary's voice called outside.

He looked up at the foot, wanting to see who came in. A lot of characters with a lot of insecurities and mental Beth issues walked through the door daily, and he managed to help them all, both in the internal fight and then in the talk.

Because so far the thoughts and experiences that caused the monsters to be planted still existed, the monsters could come back again and again.

He wondered what today's battle had in store for him.

It was a goth enthusiasts.

Knee high boots with at least three-inch soles, a black leather jacket with a bloodred plaid skirt, red hair with red streaks and three piercjngs on each earlobe, she was the perfect example of a goth enthusiast.

She had a nosering on her right nostril with a chain linking it to one of her earrings, and when she his eyes met hers, she smiled and licked her lips.

Together with her smoky dark eyeshadow, pasty white skin and curvy body, she was the definition of trouble.

He didn't know when he said. "Oh boy!" out loud.

She smirked. "Not the exact reaction I was hoping for, but still flattering nonetheless. I'll take it."

He stood and stretched out his hand for a handshake, but instead she walked over to his side and hugged him. The hug was tight, and he suddenly felt a rush of spiritual energy from both their bodies. She was so warm wand nice to hug, the feeling was heavienly.

But a little inappropriate.

Before he could speak up, she had disengaged and taken a seat in the lounge-like office, designed to give a peaceful, welcoming ambience to the place.

"I'm Jodie. Jodie Roth. And you're Doctor McGuire, yeah?'

"The one and only," he said, swallowing loudly. He had been mystified by this goddess."What can I do for you, Jodie?"

"Well, a lot of things actually. In the same way, I can do a lot for you too, if you help me..."

There was definitely something ominous about the sultry look he gave her, and he wanted to clear things up before he started. "I don't think I'm..."

"Let's start with me first, and then we'll know what you're interested in or not, huh, Jonathan?"

"First name basis already?" He asked, regaining his suave composure.

"I like things fast," she said with a wicked grin.

"But I digress. I'm here because I keep having nightmares that won't allow me to sleep, ever since my mother died."

"I'm so sorry about that, when did this happen?" Jonathan asked compassionately. He could relate to her plight

"Six years ago. When I was eighteen."

He was surprised. "My mother died eight years ago, and I was also eighteen at the time. She committed suicide though, and I'd like to say I have healed and I'm okay now, but it still hurts a little every now and then. I totally understand how you feel and..."

While he was still talking, he'd connected to her subconscious via spiritual energy. He moved in darky, murky waters until he came before what looked like a gigantic temple.

Animal and human bones littered the place, and there was a terrible stench of rotting flesh about the place. A stench he found nauseating.

As he looked around the eerie place, a massive nine-foot-tall monster, having a humanoid structure and wearing chain link armour came out of the temple and fixed its eyes upon him.

It's eyes were smolderig coals, and in one when he carried a huge shield while in the other he had a club fashioned with rock. It had several small horns on its surface, all sharp and impeccably white.

"Who dares enter my presence?" it said, its voice deep and guttural.

He smiled. This one looked big. Strong.

Well, he thought, the bigger they are, the harder they fall.

"I'm sorry to interrupt," he said. "But I'm a licensed therapist, and my client wants you out of her head. And I assure you, I am very good at my job."

*****

I'll just make this one a trilogy or something of that sort. It was a nice print, with a nice plot, so I couldn't resist. Remember to like and comment so I'll know what you all think about it.