I am a 22-year-old recent graduate from Mars Hill University. I have a double major in Criminal Justice and Religion & Philosophy. I also played collegiate lacrosse! In my free time you can find me writing fiction and hiking with my dog.
"Now what?" Amanda asked. The two travellers stretched their legs outside the car from the three hour trip. It hadn't snowed in Charity like it had in Covet, but the town was just as cold. There was a chill in the air that the afternoon sun couldn't eliminate. And the breeze helped little. It ripped through Vinnit's woolen trenchcoat, making it feel twenty degrees colder than it actually was.
THE THIRTEENTH EXCERPT FROM DR. JAGEN'S BLACK JOURNAL: "Why have you kept me around this long?" I have changed my course of action going into today's session. Now that the child chooses to speak to me, I will not pre-formulate questions that attempt to diagnose it as a brown-level patient. That will skew my interpretation of the conversation. I need to ask questions that flow naturally from the conversation, and then reflect afterwards upon the child's answers.
ACOLYTES OF THE CHOSEN
The winter sun had already taken an early hiatus from lighting the world as Dr. Dorian Vinnit approached the steps of St. Gabriel's Catholic Church. The parish was located on the corner of Auven Blvd and Bronst Ave, also known as "car crash corner" to locals.
THE TWELFTH EXCERPT FROM DR. JAGEN'S BLACK JOURNAL: We have sat in silence for close to a year. A whole year the child has made me wait to hear its first words.
SILENCE THE MIND
Dr. Dorian Vinnit closed the black journal, closing his eyes for a brief moment to reflect on the words he'd read. The words he'd read a hundred times already.
THE CHILD PATIENT
THE FIRST EXCERPT FROM DR. JAGEN'S BLACK JOURNAL: Today was my first assessment of the child patient. Have I grabbed a black journal prematurely?
FIGURE IN THE DARKNESS
There was a time in my life where it felt uncomfortable to enter the embrace of frigid, dark waters. A time when the fear of the unknown played with my mind. Where the cold of the water permeated through to my soul. Caused hypothermia. But as my body submerges into the pitch-black surf now, I feel nothing.
"Something ain't right here Greylock," Nixon radios in via coms, then continues, "The dogs man. Ain't no fuckin' poochies out here anymore."
Work as a psychiatrist didn't suddenly hault just because some sudden adventure arose. Life didn't work like the pages of some fictitious tale of sudden wonder, where the protagonist throws all caution to the wind when a mysterious journey came along. And so Dr. Vinnit didn't abandon all psychiatric duties upon leaving the Warden's office. He did not throw caution to the wind and sprint for St. Gabriel's on the corner of Bronst Ave and Auven Blvd.
THE DEVIL ITSELF
"I haven't a clue what you're talking about, doctor. Now I think it's about time you left. I'd tuck that journal away, before you do something you end up regretting. I'll see you out," the Warden said, standing immediately from his desk and motioning toward the door politely.
Darkness often falls in more than one way. Like the setting of the sun upon the cold, dark earth, so too may darkness settle upon the soul of a man.
"May I come in?" Dorian asked, peaking his head through the cracked door. "Ah, yes! Come in, won't you doctor?" Warden called from behind his cluttered desk. Loose papers and dirtied whiskey glasses laid strewn across the room.