The Psychiatrist: Trilogy to The Doll Collector

Chapter 8: Kristopher

The best part about having to endure their little treatments was the day after. Everyone knew what had happened to me and Connor Mayfield, so the nursing staff allowed a late morning for everyone. I sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes with the pads of my fingers. Small areas of my head were still sensitive from where the electricity had entered my body.

Now, the worst part about having to endure their little treatments, was the splitting headache afterwards and the immensely sore jaw muscles. Not to mention the nausea and muscle aches throughout my whole body. Recovering from electroshock therapy was an all-day affair, and certainly one I milked for all that it was worth.

Images of Dr. Lamb pervaded my thoughts. I could see her hovering over me every time I blinked, but I couldn't remember all that had happened. More side effects. What I did remember was that Maria had a front row seat to it all. She was no stranger to grotesque scenes, but I knew it wouldn't do anything great to her mental state.

I always did wonder how witnessing the murder of two people right in front of her had affected her psyche. She appeared fairly normal, but she had followed me here and that didn't exactly scream sanity.

We never had the chance to discuss that event. The District Attorney's office made sure all contact with each other was impossible. Now she was only concerned with treating me.

I thought back to that night. Audrey's blood was pooling beneath her and spreading towards Maria. Backstrom's blood had splattered over her and that wasn't something you could move past so easily. Thinking about it now, that was the night when everything came undone for everyone.

I never found out, either, how Adrian had taken Audrey's murder. We never had the time to talk. He skipped over all of it, just to put me behind bars. I didn't like to admit it, but there were times late at night when I reminisced about our times staking out, visiting crime scenes and all the memories that came with being partner for 7 years.

Dr. Lamb intruded into my memories. I curled my fingers into tight fists. This was her favorite part of every month. At least once a month, there was a patient dragged into the atrium. There wasn't a single person here who hadn't been in there. In fact, my first night, I was given the grand tour. It was the single most painful experience of my life, and that was saying something considering my childhood.

I slid out of bed, feeling my knees buckle underneath me. My body slammed against the cold floor with a heavy thud. I laid there; my cheek pressed against the tiles.

Maybe having been sent to death row would have been far better than this. After a few minutes, I forced myself up. Macy was waiting for me outside of my room to walk with her to the mess hall. As was customary after a punishment, the mess hall chefs made us pancakes with sausages. My stomach was still fighting off the nausea, so the food went down terribly, but what helped me get through was the fact that it was the day of my next session. I had a bone to pick. Macy cleared my tray for me, so I dragged my feet down the corridor. I hated that everyone was looking at me as I shuffled by, but that was what happened.

It was a practice to stare at the latest victim. I made it to my session room and pushed the door open to find Maria already inside. She immediately took to her feet and hurried towards me. I hardly reacted to her hug, and instead tensed up at her touch. All I could remember was Dr. Aleksandrov being much too attentive to her.

She drew away and held my face in her hands. While there was worry in her eyes, I could hardly classify it as being genuine.

"Are you alright? How are you feeling?" she asked.

"Why was Dr. Aleksandrov so close to you?" I replied.

Her eyes flickered in confusion, then she shook her head.