Life and the cheesy crime flicks from the 90's (WIP)

-PROLOGUE-

"So, mister Lancer. How have you been for this past couple of weeks now? we haven't done this in a long time." 

The light raindrops fell on the window flooring making a light sound of drops while the rain has stopped not too long ago. That was the only thing i could think about for a moment dozing out as doctor Richard said in his quiet and friendly tone looking as if he would actually care for a stranger. A type of buddy that would come with you and have a beer or something at the nearest bar down the rainy street. 

"They have been. quiet. thanks for asking." i replied while the doctor gestured towards the nearest comfy yet old and soft chair making me wonder how many suckers he pulled off taking their hard earned buck for a simple chat. Yet for no apparent reason making things actually work out. Maybe he is actually god and trying to make the world a better place, or its the more obvious option that involves nice lavender smells and a small placebo effect. 

Anything to get out of this mess. That's the way to go in these situations.  reminds me of the nice and quiet outskirt of town where my first plan for a big score planned out for some reason, there is something in the look of the room that makes me remember of it all. 

"Well mister Lancer, do you have anything you would like to share with me today?" The doctor said looking at me as if he is going to bend over and give me some brains. 

"Lately I've been having these reoccurring dreams about a woman screaming in terror."

I said it as if i actually had a problem with the same stupid dream over and over. Yet. The dream never made me feel bad or upset. In fact it was the only thing that kept the thrill of the first heist so over emotional. 

"Tell me about that woman mister Lancer. Is she someone familiar to you? Or is she someone completely made up."

 I was scared to answer that question. The stench of suspicion and paranoia made me weak and scared, yet in my defense i could tell him half of the unholy truth about my so called nightmare. At this point i don't even think that i have even a single fuck about that person indulging me into a complete feeling of stoicism. "I could not see her face. In my dream i saw her as a shadow figure. Nothing more.. Just a shadow. Screaming her lungs out while facing me." 

If only the doctor knew the real story of that woman's fear. Maybe one day i will be able to forgive myself for the deed i commenced back in that bank five years ago.