I'm Not Afraid Of You

New Psychologist

Here we go again. Kidd has been at the Vision Lane Asylum for about a year and this was his thirteenth therapist. Oh, when are they gonna give up! Kidd thought. In his opinion there is no cure for insanity. Or at least not for him. This is who he is, he just loves the rush of killing, the beauty of it. These psychologist are trying to change him. And he didn't like that.
Kidd's designated guards, Fred and George, came into his white cell at about nine in the morning.
"Morning, boys!" Kidd said as the guards yanked him roughly to his feet and dragged him out.
They took him to another white room, with a metal table set. The guards sat Kidd down in the farthest chair and stood beside him. After a minute or so, Kidd became impatient.
"Where is this guy," he asked the guards in an irritated tone. "I've got a cell to rot away in."
Just then a woman with her curly brown hair in a ponytail, carrying a bundle if papers came in. She wore a plain black knee length dress under her white lab coat and black heels that sound like firecrackers on the tiles. She sat down across from the brown haired lunatic. She put reading glasses on over her blue eyes and read from a paper in the top file. She then looked up into Kidd's calculating brown eyes and smiled.
"Good morning, Mr. Gramm. My name is Dr. Woods. I'm your new psychologist," Dr. Woods finally says.
Dr. Woods was about to hold out her hand to shake, then realized he was in a straight jacket.
"Sorry, doll. My hands are tied. And please, call me Kidd," Kidd said with a handsome smile.
Sadly for him, Dr. Woods didn't fall for him as easily as his victims. She smiled again.
"I'll keep that in mind, Mr. Gramm. Do you gentlemen mind leaving me with my patient?"
"You sure, Dr. Woods," Fred asked.
"Yeah. You know he's a serial killer," George said.
"Boys, boys." Dr. Woods got up and began guiding the guards toward the door gentle, by their shoulders.
"His job was to physically rip people's insides out and kill them. Yes? And my job is to mentally rip people's insides out, but I keep them alive and suffering....Plus he's wearing a straight jacket." Dr. Woods pushed the guards out the door. "I'm sure I'll manage." And with that she slammed the door.
She then came and sat back down across Kidd, who stared at her in awe. She crossed her golden toned legs and grabbed her files.
"Damn, you are one scary lady," Kidd said after a while.
Dr. Woods smiled and looked at Kidd over her reading glasses.
"What can I say, I'm the Amanda Waller of psychologist."
Then she opened a note pad and clicked her pen once.
"What's your favorite color, Mr. Gramm?"
Kidd leaned forward with a charming smile, looking into Dr. Wood's eyes.
"How about you let me out of this jacket?"Kidd said smoothly.
"How about you answer the question?" Dr. Woods retorted.
Kidd sat back, pouting. He sighed, looking down.
"Red," he mumbled.
She scribbled on the paper.
"Why?"
"Because it reminds me of blood," Kidd stated, now annoyed.
Dr. Woods scribbled some more.
"Why do you like blood?"
"Because I like to kill."
Scribble.
"Why do you like to kill?"
"Why do I like to kill? Such a simple question, that seems like it would involve an extremely complex answer, huh?But doesn't," Kidd said as he moved in his seat. "It's because it's beautiful."
He stared down at the table, a slight smile on his face. He was remembering his crime scenes, pleasantly.
"Why is it beautiful, Mr. Gramm?"
"You've heard of the Renaissance artist, Michael Angelo, yes? He was a brilliant artist. And when he painted the Sistine Chapel ceiling he depicted St. Bartholomew holding his flayed flesh. And all the characters are nude in this gory bloody bath. It was primitive, blunt. There is beauty in guts, and gore, and blood, and everything we try to shield ourselves from. It is life... It is humanity itself."
There was silence from a moment. Then Kidd looked up to see her reaction.
"That was beautifully said Mr. Gramm. So, you feel that you are an artist?" Dr. Woods spoke with emotion in her tone, nor on her face, as she continued to scribble. Kidd smiled again.
"I guess you could say that. I don't know," Kidd said, biting his lip.
"You guess? How would you put it, Mr. Grammar?"
He thought for a moment. He had spend a year in solitude, thinking about things like this. Yet here here was thinking more, instead of having all of the answers, like he normally did.
"I see myself more as a messenger. I was born to bring a message from the universe: that no matter where we hide, or try to bury, it's still there. The darkness festering in our souls. The sickness that resides within every human being, but is simply hiding in the shadows... It waits for us. It is pure, raw, uncensored humanity, insanity."
Again, when Kidd looked up, she held no reaction. Not fear, nor excitement. She only scribbled in her notepad.
"Thank you for cooperating, Mr. Gramm. I'm afraid our time is up. Allow me to escort you to the door."
Dr. Woods took off her reading glasses and put them away. Then she stood and helped Kidd to his feet. She walked him to the door, holding his arm with a strong grip. Before she opened the door, Kidd swiftly kissed her cheek. Before she could respond the guards grabbed him and dragged him off.
"It was lovely meeting you, Doctor." Kidd called behind him.
Dr. Woods wiped her cheek with her coat sleeve childishly, as she blushed madly. She turned to go back into the room to collect her work.
"Dr. Woods!"
Dr. Woods turned back to see her supervisor, Dr. Pelissier, trying to catch up to her.
"Can I help you Dr. Pelissier," Dr. Woods asked.
"I wanted to know about your first day with...Mr. Gramm," Dr. Pelissier said walking Dr. Woods to collect her files and notes.
"Well, there defiantly progress in his trust in me. And he certainly likes me," Dr. Woods replied.
"Well, that's good. Um, I was also wondering if, you know. Maybe we could, perhaps-"
"Dr. Woods. You're needed in room C-23, Dr. Woods," said the asylum intercom.
"Oh, I'm sorry. Can we continue this conversation another time? Tomorrow, perhaps?"
"Of course, Dr. Woods. I look forward to it," Dr. Pelissier replied nervously.
Then Dr. Woods walked off, her heels clicking away. Dr. Pelissier staring after her. Wait, what did she mean by that patient 'certainly likes' her. Dr. Pelissier thought after a while. Am I jealous? He asked himself. Then brushed it off. No, I have no reason to be jealous of a murderous psychopath.
Back in his cell Kidd could not stop thinking about Dr. Woods. He wanted to kiss her blood red lips. He wanted to called her by her first name, whatever it was. She must have some sort of lust magic to make people talk. All she did was tell off a couple of goons and ask some questions, and yet she has affected him in such a dramatic way. Kidd Gramm certainly likes his new psychologist.