The setting is that of a doctor's office where two men sit on either side of a desk. The one is dressed rather simply in jeans and a tanktop while the other bears all the hallmarks of being a learned physician. The first is cool and calm without a hint of nervousness, while the healthcare professional is sweating and having difficulty keeping a steady breath.
The one in street clothes is a new patient, here for a routine psychiatric evaluation to see if he needs any further observation. He's concerned that he might be dealing with something that requires assistance beyond that which he can give himself. So, he has checked himself in and signed a waiver that allows for whatever treatment is deemed necessary.
As such, he was issued a routine, psychiatric evaluation that uncovered something sinister. It seems that though the man seeking help answers all the control questions with calm efficiency, as is to be expected, but when it comes to the more emotional provocation queries the responses seem to belong to another individual.
The doctor, one Cecil Alencoe, should have stopped when he crossed the danger line, but his professional curiosity got the better of him and he kept on digging till the individual known as Scott Longsmith was buried completely and a new man appeared as though from out of a fog, where they had been waiting all along.
Doctor Alencoe is nervous now. This new man, who calls himself Eric The Red, seems to have an underlying almost silent maliciousness and a kind of cunning. The physician feels less like a man of agency and more like prey in the sight of a predator. This man, this monster, only looks as though human, but is in fact the veritable wolf in sheep's clothing.
Putting forward all of his training and self discipline, Cecil gradually slips his hand beneath his desk, outside of his patient's observance and pushes a small, white button located at the bottom of his desk and off to the left. From this point it is only a matter of moments before a reaction takes place, but it will be the longest moments of his life.
At long last the doctor's door opens and within its frame, passes two, very large men. They both wear the same, stark white clothes and seem more appropriate to be bouncers, rather than orderlies. They stop to either side of the seated patient and hold themselves ready for anything without exhibiting an outward threat.
Doctor Alencoe clears his throat. "These men are here to make you comfortable," he speaks, while trying to conceal the nervous bubble growing inside of him.
Each of the men set an oversized hand on Eric's shoulders. "Please sir," one of them entreats and leans forward. "Would you not come with us?"
All at once, a violent altercation takes place that is over in a matter of seconds. This seemingly weak individual at a clear disadvantage goes through a transformation in which nothing is transformed and all present are incapable of following his actions accurately. Luckily, being the narrator I am outside of such limitations.
Without unseating himself, Eric takes hold of both hands and violently pulls them forward. A sickening series of pops echoes through the enclosed room as both men's arms are dislocated in three places: the wrist, the elbow and the shoulder. The sufferers of these injuries do not even have a moment to feel their wounds as they are now slumped fully forward.
The man of incredible strength that belies his small stature, then twists each arm behind the owners back till they scream aloud as their muscles tear from extreme torsion. This drives both men to their knees, but they haven't even a moment as their opponent simply pushes them away and they fly against the wall like rag dolls before being rendered unconscious.
Eric remains cool and calm. He's not even breathing heavy. The only indicator of excessive violence upon his person is the little bit of dribble sliding down from the corner of his mouth. All the while, the two orderlies groan in fitful sleeps while contusions of black and blue form along their skin like morbid tattoos.
Doctor Alencoe is horrified by the outcome as he gazes upon his protectors who haven't the means to protect anyone at this point. He crawls ever backwards into his chair wishing he could disappear. All the while, his bladder empties and the noxious liquid spills upon the floor as the smell rises in the air.
"That wasn't very comfortable," Eric relays to the doctor, with words that are clear and concise.
"I'm sorry," Doctor Alencoe apologizes, as he begins to regain his courage, having realized that he's no longer in danger. "They were simply going to escort you to your room. I'm sorry you thought they were a threat."
"Think nothing of it," Eric assures him, as he makes himself comfortable in the chair he sits in by crossing his leg and leaning back with his hands folded.
Doctor Alencoe nervously clears his throat and adjusts his tie. "Can I please talk with Mister Scott Longsmith?" he inquires as he recognizes the difference in the men and would prefer to deal with the more demure one.
"Now tell me doc," Eric goes on and throws a skeptical look. "You don't really want to talk to him, do you?"
"What do you mean?" the doctor asks, uncertain of what he'd been asked.
"Come now," Eric carries on and fiddles with his fingers. "He's not so interesting. You want to talk to it, don't you?"
"It?" Doctor Alencoe returns, growing more bold with each second that passes.
"It, me," Eric clarifies and raises his hands. "The one who just redecorated your office."
"You mean, you are aware of another person inside of you?" Doctor Alencoe probes deeper and even sits forward despite the wetness of his trousers.
"Quite, though I wouldn't call it, me, a person," Eric corrects him and raises his eyes to the ceiling. "More of a beast really, or a demon perhaps."
"And you can just let him, it, you, out?" the doctor stumbles all over himself as his mind fights to put the piece together.
"I should say," Eric replies and looks back at the doctor. "I am in charge of the leash after all."
"So, you let him trash my office on purpose?" Doctor Alencoe asks while making sure there's no hostility in his voice or person.
"Sorry. Maybe I should have mentioned, I have an issue with personal space," Eric points out before offering a bit of admonishment and rubbing his arm. "Though being a psychiatrist, you probably should have asked."
Doctor Alencoe nods. "You are correct," he admits and turns a bit sheepish. "As such, I apologize for my decision."
"So, would you like to talk to it, me?" Eric offers completely ignoring the apology and moving on with the conversation.
"Would it be safe?" Doctor Alencoe inquires, wary of any violence that might be bubbling under the surface.
"So long as you don't encourage its, my, violent behavior," Eric assures him as he brushes off his hands with his fingers. "You have nothing to worry about."
Doctor Alencoe is sure he should say no, given what has occurred, but finds himself nodding, his curiosity demands nothing less. The man does nothing, simply lowers his head. Then he rises it and there's nothing different.
"Am I talking to him or it?" the professional proceeds with caution and searches the patient for any outward signs of threat.
"It?" Eric speaks, and his voice is the same, but his demeanor is far more confident. "Must we really be so informal as that?"
"I'm sorry," Doctor Alencoe apologizes and returns to scribbling on his pad. "What would you like to be called?"
"Called? Eric returns incredulously and nonchalantly inspects his fingernails. "How about my name?"
"And may I ask what that is?" Doctor Alencoe seeks clarification and scribbles some more.
"You may indeed," the patient responds simply. "Eric The Red is my preferred nom de plume."
"Eric The Red?" Doctor Alencoe returns somewhat incredulously and casts a suspicious eye his way. "Forgive my possible ignorance of the matter, but wasn't he an explorer?"
"A conquerer," Eric completes the profile with great enthusiasm and sits up a little straighter as he tightens a fist. "A warrior. A king."
"So then," the doctor proceeds as he latches onto one of the descriptors. "You are a king?"
"I am," Eric assures him and looks slightly annoyed. "And let's drop the skeptical tone, shall we?"
"Sorry," the doctor further apologizes and sets his pen to work. "But what are you the king of?"
"Fairyland," Eric answers and gives a flat look.
"I beg your pardon," Doctor Alencoe returns and stops scribbling. "Fairyland?"
"Not really, but that's what you expected me to say isn't it? Or something like it?" Eric points out and adjusts his seating. "No, I am king of this body."
"You are the king of the body," the doctor lays the pieces together and absentmindedly scratches his chin. "But he holds the leash?"
"I possess the sovereignty," Eric clarifies as his demeanor dips a bit. "But he possesses the power.
"And you can only come out as long as he lets you?" Doctor Alencoe pushes further into the issue as he taps his pen.
"For now, yes," Eric further admits and gives a slight shrug.
"You mean it won't always be that way?" Doctor Alencoe inquires and sits forward.
"No, it won't," Eric promises and delivers a hard stare.
"And what will change it?" Doctor Alencoe picks at the brain of the man sitting across from him as he glances his notes.
"When he burns the chains," Eric informs the physician and holds his hands out as if in display.
"The chains?" Doctor Alencoe repeats the last two words in the form of a question as he gazes at what he thinks he's supposed to see.
"Chains," Eric repeats as though that explains everything and gives a nod. "A long time ago I constructed chains to hold me back."
"And why would you do that?" Doctor challenges somewhat softly as he leans forward and places both hands under his chin.
"Well, at the time," Eric endeavors to explain as he tilts his head. "He was no more than three years old and hadn't enough power to satisfy me properly."
"And now?" Doctor Alencoe pries and looks over his glasses.
"Now," Eric stretches out the word and angles an eye to the corner of the room. "I wait until he gives me control."
"So," Doctor Alencoe presses on and taps his pen on his pad. "You are stuck inside him?"
"Yes," Eric affirms his suspicion. "I am."
"Why?" Doctor Alencoe pursues the truth of the matter and leans forward. "I just saw you take apart those men and he couldn't have done that, so why?"
"Because that was physical strength," Eric points out and gazes upon his fingers drumming on the desk. "And it can't hope to measure up to the strength of will."
"So, you possess the greater strength," Doctor Alencoe relays as he struggles to keep things in their proper place. "And he, the will?"
"That's about the size of it," Eric affirms the consolidation of facts and tips his head.
"And you are confident," Doctor Alencoe proceeds, his bravado building with each word uttered. "That one day, he will let you out?"
"Yes, I am," Eric replies as a smile twists the corners of his mouth.
"Why?" Doctor Alencoe returns and stops scribbling.
"That does seem to be your favorite word," Eric observes and tilts his head. "Can't you say something else?"
"Would you elaborate?" Doctor Alencoe reaffixes the same notion with prettier paper and gives a slight cough.
"Ah, that's better," Eric breathes before focusing on the question itself as he leans forward. "Because he only lets me out when he needs me, like before. And lately, he's needed me more and more. Eventually, he'll give up all pretense and let me take control, permanently."
"So, you will be in control," Doctor Alencoe perceives and sets to tapping his pen. "But what will happen to him?"
"Probably be buried," Eric says nonchalantly and gives a shrug before turning deadly serious. "Like I was."
"And you don't think he'll be able to get out like you did?" Doctor Alencoe inquires and leans on his elbow.
"No," Eric returns flatly and looks down his eyes.
"Wh-" the doctor begins, before correcting himself as he gives a slight shake to his head. "What makes you so sure?"
"There you go. Keep it fresh," Eric congratulates him while giving a pseudo pat on the back. "One shouldn't use the same words over and over again, when they have a whole vocabulary to choose from. But to put it simply, he's not as strong as I am."
"How can you be certain of this?" Doctor Alencoe queries and sets his pen down altogether.
"Because, he's let people run his life from the very moment he was able to create a thought," Eric explains and makes himself more comfortable. "He doesn't trust himself, and he values the opinion of others far more than his own. I'm not so weak as that. I'd rather have my own way, even at the expense of others. So, if he ever did climb out he'd probably just sit idly by while I ran things."
"Do you think that wise?" Doctor Alencoe pries in a genteel fashion and sets a hand to his chin.
"Wisdom has nothing to do with it," Eric deflects the assertion and taps a hand against the desk with slightly more violence than necessary. "It's simply a matter of desire. I want out, and I will get out."
"Then what?" Doctor Alencoe presses on as he tries to understand the puzzle that's the man sitting across from him.
Eric is silent.
"What will happen once you do get out?" Doctor Alencoe carries on and sets a hand flat against the surface.
"To be honest, I don't know," Eric admits and lowers his stature. "But I'm sure it'll be worth it."
"What makes you so certain?" Doctor Alencoe ponders aloud and rubs at his chin.
"Because, it's boring inside here and I have absolutely nothing to do," Eric complains and slaps his fist on the desk. "Hell, I'll even give you an example. There's this girl he's sweet on and the other night, she practically throws herself at him, but he doesn't do anything."
"Why not?" Doctor Alencoe inquires and picks up his pen again.
"He doesn't know what to do," Eric answers and resettles himself.
"You mean he doesn't know about sex?" Doctor Alencoe proceeds, unashamedly without even a hint of blush to his face.
"No, he knows plenty about that," Eric corrects the assertion and gives a wry smile. "After all, the media hasn't allowed anyone to be ignorant, in this day and age. No, he just doesn't know what to do with himself. A good example comes from a movie he watched a long time ago, and to put it bluntly, the guy said he'd rather shit himself than change his universe in any way. This guy's the same way. You see she was waiting on him as she figured she'd gone half the distance, now all he had to do was meet her there. But that's not him. Now me on the other hand, I'd have jumped her right there. Even before she got her clothes off."
"So once you are out, do you plan on sleeping with this girl?" Doctor Alencoe persists with the personal inquiry as he jots something down.
"That'd be wrong, and sick," Erci shoots back and is physically repulsed.
"Why is that?" Doctor Alencoe returns completely stupefied by the response.
"Because she's dead," Eric reveals the truth of the matter and returns to a forward position.
"Dead?" Doctor Alencoe replies, puzzled.
"Yeah, she couldn't handle the silent rejection and jumped out the window," Eric clarifies and delivers the bad news as though he were remarking on inclement weather. "Of her high rise apartment."
"And you don't feel any remorse for this?" Doctor Alencoe queries, alarmed by what he's hearing.
"No," Eric states flatly and looks him dead in the eye.
"Would you tell me why?" Doctor Alencoe replies and scrawls some more.
"Because she and people like her, are just a stones throw away from being just like him," Eric points out with a cold indifference that's quickly warming up. "You have to be strong to live, and you can't live for someone else."
"That is an interesting perspective," Doctor Alencoe admits while maintaining a moral high ground. "But I fear it is one that can only be held by individuals such as yourself."
"What do you mean?" Eric presents a query for the first time as he leans forward.
"Well, I'm not certain what it's like inside the place you live," Doctor Alencoe explains and splays a hand around the room. "But out here, it's very different. You see we, who are on the outside, need companionship, and our desire to procreate is strong."
"That I have no problem with," Eric points out and gives a chuckle.
"I surmised as much, but there is more," Doctor Alencoe elaborates and returns to writing. "Even if a man were given free reign to do as he pleased, he would eventually change. The more you do something the more it diminishes, until it becomes so small that you have to give it meaning, or else, it's extinguished. In other words, I think the only reason you want out so badly is because you're in, but if you do get out, you'll probably just want in again."
There's a long period of silence as each man looks to the other.
"Do you agree with me?" Doctor Alencoe asks, breaking the silence.
"Well," Eric begins, as he mulls it over in his head. "I'm not sure. But you have given me a lot to think about, and I'll have to take some time and consideration before I answer."
"Take all the time that you need," Doctor Alencoe offers and sets down his pen.
"Oh, I will," Eric assures him and readjusts his seating. "I just wonder if you'll still be around to hear me then."
Doctor Alencoe looks confused.
"Don't worry about it," Eric waves him off as he stands up. "Well, it was nice meeting you, but I'm going back in now." He takes the doctor's hand, which he pumps vigorously, before dropping his head. "So how'd you like him?" The patient raises his head and asks as though he hadn't heard a word that had transpired.
"He was rather, enlightening," Doctor Alencoe scrambles for the right word as he retrieves his hand.
"Isn't he though," the patient returns and wipes his hand on his pants as though something untoward had infested his skin. "Now, about that room."
Doctor Alencoe smiles as he stands up and escorts the man to a vacant room, where he says goodbye and returns to his office. But not before changing his pants.