#cause obviously my brain can't tell the difference between what's real and what's not anymore

[forfearofwolves-blog]

Click. Click. Click.

Strange. Strange. Strange. Strange. The office. It looked the same, but different all at once. Dr. Morgan looked the same, but there was a bizarre aura about him. Though he hid it well, he seemed… nervous as Cyril entered the room. His body language gave him away. The way he stared right through the Egyptian man. The way his hands were folded together tightly. The way he so obviously forced the smile upon his face. His beard was overgrown and he seemed exhausted. Whether it was mentally or physically, or both, it was there regardless. “Good evening, Cyril,” Dr. Morgan said, as Cyril took his seat, eyes never leaving the doctor, “or… are you Cyril right now?” His green eyes rolled, arms crossing over his chest. ”I’m Cyril.” He responded, “at least for now.” A smirk formed on his olive toned features and even though Dr. Morgan returned his remark with a smile, he could tell that his anxiety was consuming him. He was afraid of Cyril. “So today,” Morgan began, standing to his feet and making his way quickly to the other side of the room, “I thought we could try something new. You mentioned that you believe you have another personality. I’d like to meet them, if that’s okay with you.” He returned to his seat wielding a strange, small black object, thumb pressed to the top of it. Despite his skepticism, Cyril nodded. This could be interesting. “I want you to focus on me,” Dr. Morgan continued, holding the object up, “focus on my voice. Let it sink into your brain. Swim in your conscious. Let it be the only thing you can hear right now.” Cyril obliged, his body relaxing into the chair. Melting. Melting. Melting. “When I click this, you won’t be Cyril anymore. You’ll be someone else.” Melting. Melting. Melting. Let’s give him what he wants. Click. “Why not both, Dr. Morgan?” That voice. It wasn’t as icy as Rylic’s, but it still had a strange eeriness to it. This one was more comforting. More soothing. More feminine. It could talk you to sleep. Dr. Morgan arched a brow, tilting his head to the side a little. “I assume you’re not the more aggressive personality, are you?” He asked, thumb still pressed to the clicker in his hand. Cyril shook his head, a warm smile on his face. “I am not that savage,” He said, leaning back in his seat, “my name is Judy. It’s nice to meet you, James.” Morgan blinked, moving back in his seat, a little astounded. “Call me Dr. Morgan.” He said, narrowing his eyes a bit, but Judy only shook his head. “I will call you James, and you will call me Judy.” He said, tone eerily calm, “Now, you said you wanted to meet me, so here I am.” His lips melted into a soothing smile, but the doctor still had skepticism painted all over his face. Why was he so nervous? This certainly was a change of pace from the last time they’d met. “Alright, Judy,” Morgan said, adjusting himself a little as he hovered over his notes, “what are your intentions with Cyril then?” Dark brow arched in curiosity at the question, going over the answer in his head. Was this really a question for Judy? Or was it one for… “The real fucking question,” The icy voice spat out, “is what the hell are yours?” Dr. Morgan looked taken aback, eyes widening at the sound of Rylic’s voice chiming in. “Wait a minute, but I thought…” He started, but was cut off abruptly by Rylic leaning across the table. “You thought? You thought what? Cat got your fucking tongue?” He spat, hands slamming down onto the surface of the desk as Morgan coward away. “You thought I was prancing frilly little Judy didn’t you? Well, I am. I’m both… We’re us, me, him. We’re everyone.” Morgan looked confused now, obviously waiting for an explanation. Instead, Judy leaned over the desk, picking up the glass of water the doctor had for himself and taking a sip. “Sorry about that,” Judy said, one leg crossing over the other, “He gets a bit cranky sometimes, but both knew that.” Bewilderment painted across Morgan’s face, but he remained silent. Skeptical even. Almost as if he was waiting for him to burst again. “I'm not cranky!” Rylic said, “I'm just not an uptight prick like you!” Suddenly he raised the glass in his hand above his head, turning it over and dumping the contents into his own dark locks. As it dripped down his face, his eyes remained closed, and he remained silent. “Cyril… Judy… Ry...Rylic?” Morgan's voice was trembling now. Violently. “That was quite unsettling, wasn't it?” Judy mused, wiping water away from his face. Though angry, he remained calm. His best trait was the ability to remain calm. “Who are you right now?” Morgan said, urgently standing to his feet, “I can't… this session is over. You need to leave.” He raised a brow, but remained seated. “It hasn't been an hour, Dr. Morgan. Sit. His voice was firm. Morgan sat. Judy’s eyes darkened. “You didn't answer my question,” Rylic said, folding his hands in front of him, leaning closer, “what are your intentions for our boy, huh?” His tone sent chills down the doctor’s spine, hands shaking so much now that the clicker in his hand had fallen and rolled to the other side of the desk. “I want to help him.” He replied, nodding his head. Rylic scoffed. Judy did too. “Help?” In unison now, both seemed equally skeptical. “You want to help him? Or do you want him to run through a maze like a little mouse so you can see how his brain ticks? That’s it, isn't it?” Morgan shook his head. Rylic slammed his fist down onto the desk hard. “LIAR!” He screamed, eyes popping, veins as well. “This is nothing but a quick way to make money,” he continued, closing as much space as he could between he and the doctor without actually touching him, “just toy around and pretend you care about psycho boy so you can get a paycheck. He's just an interesting specimen for you. Admit it.” Morgan shook his head. Rylic brought the palm of his hand over the doctor’s cheek hard, causing the older man to yelp. “You… you hit me.” Morgan said, hand raised to his face in shock, red forming on his skin where he'd been hit. “You can't lie to us.” Rylic said, leaning closer. “Rylic, come now,” Judy replied, “you've practically made the man soil himself.” “I don't care. Fuck this weasel.” “Rylic. That's assault. Assault gets our boy in jail.” “Then we should just kill the bastard so he doesn't open his fat mouth to people.” ”Rylic.” He hesitated a moment, nostrils flaring, Morgan whimpering in his chair. “Fine.” He growled, moving back before snatching the clicker, “but we’re taking this.” He wiggled the object in Morgan's face, before turning to leave. His foot met a trash can on the way out, sending it flying across the floor. ”Click, click, click. Our boy’s sick! And the doctor doesn't give a shit!” Rylic sang, repeating the same line over and over again as he disappeared down the hallway. Click. Click. Click.

#narrative #narratives