Deadly Strike ( Hiatus )

Chapter 1: In Which She Hates Her Therapist

Annoying Author's Note:
-----------------------------------------------------WARNING: The following content may contain mature content. Mature readers only! I am not responsible for the outcome in which you took in continuing on to the next page. Also, UNEDITED as well...BEWARE of whatever may happen when reading on..you may throw up glitter! Please be advised that this is my first time...So by all means...Enjoy! And watch out for glitter puke!
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"Darkness"

"A blob of nothing"

"Endless pit of--"

"Enough Ares!" She exclaimed with an exhausted sigh. "At least try to participate in the exercises shown above." As she flashed another deck of cards containing blobs of paint in which I'm suppose to guess what it means. This horrible form of torture that I've been enduring for the last couple of years is what I like to call--Therapy, in which she gets paid $150 an hour, while I suffer her continuous claims of 'depression'.

"Are we done yet?"

"Not until the session is over"

As she shuffled a new deck of cards and faced a new slide towards me, the black and white painting resembled a shape of a butterfly.

"Your face!"

"Surely you know what a butterfly is?" As she gave me a are you serious face and jotted down notes in her black leather notepad.

"No shit sherlock" I said sarcastically.

"Ms. Demeraz this is a profanity-free environment"

"Bull--"

"Ms. Demeraz!"

"Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit." I exaggerated loudly and proudly smirked.

With a exhausted sigh she jotted down more notes and softly muttered hopeless case.

Ha! Take that therapist! Ares-1, therapist-0.

For all that is worth, why would I make it any easier for my therapist, Dr. Coleman, when obviously she doesn't even get the main point that I've have been trying to express, I am not depressed...no not even close, but simply pissed!

And I have ever right to be! If you even went through half of what I've been through who wouldn't want to a stab the male species in the heart and ruin their genetic features so they will no longer be able to produce any more of their retched kind! Maybe I do need therapy...nah!

"Look Ms. C" I sighed.

"That's Dr. Coleman to you, this is strictly a Dr.--patient relationship"

We have a relationship? Since when? I'm pretty sure I made it clear that I despise you!

"Err...whatever... Look we both know I DON'T want to be here, so without further a do..I'll just leave." I stated flatly and began to quickly wheel my way towards the door.

"You aren't excused until this session is over or should I call security to keep you restraint?"

She wouldn't dare! I glared narrowly towards her round face with freckled cheekbones. And I couldn't help but notice that Ms. C looked different? With her usual quaint dress pants and blazer, that she wore regularly. Today she sported a waist high black pencil skirt and a nude blouse showing off enough goods for clearly a woman her age. Isn't she like 45? I wrinkled my nose in disgust.

Not only that but she actually wore high heels and make up that highlighted her vibrant green eyes. She had also let her hair down, instead of her usual tight bun, and now it flowed down in soft wavy caresses. Since the lighting was good it clearly highlighted her auburn highlights. Who she trying to look good for? Then it finally clicked.

"You would like that wouldn't you?" I smirked lazily and slouched back in my chair relaxing.

"E-excuse me?" She stuttered stupidly.

Bingo! She couldn't be any more obvious.

"Oh Ms. C someone's been a really baaaad girl!"

As her cheeks reddened and she fumbled around with her pen and sputtered a lame excuse of the room being too hot. I couldn't help but wonder...which security guard did she have the 'hots' for? I could definitely use this to my advantage!

"The way I see it Ms. C you have only one option drop my therapy classes from my schedule or else!"