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"And then there's a sharp pain in my left leg, but when i look down .. there's a flower growing out of it." muttered James. "Can you remember what kind of flower james?". "No, just that it has thorns and lots of leaves .. no color to it at all." Just as she had thought, a suppressed emotional scar from an early childhood event. While she would love to jump right in and wrench this man's brain, she would have to follow the process. <bzzzzzzt> "Mrs. Sather, your 5 o'clock is here" hummed the lilting voice of the receptionist. "I'm sorry Mr. Treece, we'll have to continue another day." and they ended the session for the afternoon.
Her '5 O'clock was here', just what she needed, another distraction .. another delay.. but she'd get through and leave as soon as she could. She had planned this evening for over 3 months due to the difficuly in arranging all the details. She could only hope that all went as planned. Would the strippers be on time? Did the Limo driver know the fastest way out of town?
Blood pellets and blanks had to be loaded and they needed public witnesses.
In walked the infamous 'Mr. Riddles', and his timing couldnt have been worse. He sat down and arranged the magazines into a tidy littel pile with the dates of each publication showing just above the cover of the next, all the bindings aligned, staples forming a row of perfection. He remembered himself and placed his fingers on his knees to stop them from fidgeting. "I hope I am on time" said Mr. Riddles. "Plenty early. as usual" she said "How has your week gone?". he droned on his knees with frantic fingers that flitted almost in time with his hectic eye movements. "Good, very good, only 10 incidents this week."
What did she care, after tonight it would be pina coladas and white beaches. No more listening to these whiny little clients and thier stupid little quirks. With the 28 million she would abscond with tonight, she would have no worries. The officials were now "family", the police in thier pockets. The housing, well concealed and remote. All the little things were taken care of. All that was left was the facade this evening...
"... and when he moved the spoon to place the bowl, I couldn't help it, i moved it back .. but a little too forcefully, the soup ended up all over his apron and pants, and those shoes.. those pretty shiny shoes.. i messed them up, I had to run from the restaraunt, I couldn'd handle..."
Good gods, there was far too much going on for her to deal with his petty issues. She reached behind her desk and pulled out the syringe that the used to medicate patients before hypnotherapy...
"What is that for... we dont have a session for that today, i'd hate to mess if that clean needle. If i had known I would have worn a short sleevel shirt. I can unbutton the sleeve, but you must wait while i roll up the sleeves.. must be 4 folds, very tight you know, no wrinkles"
She reaches into the drawer and pulled out the small vial of zaleplon and stuck the needle into it. As a physician and psychiatrist she was well used to administering these treatments. she glanced at the dosage recommendations.. <height .. 5'8".. weight ... 230 lb... recommended dosage 2 ml>... she then drew in 25 ml of the clear liquid and flicked it out of habit to remove the air bubbles.
"Lie back Mr. Rubenistien.. " he interrupted "Mr. Riddles"... "Of course, Mr. Riddles" she said as she slowly inserted the needle into his arm and pressed the plunger. He visibly relaxed and his eyes were beginning to get drowsy. She grinned to herself <Who would know, besies... tomorrow i'll be dead to the world and out of this place on to bigger and better things>
As she opened the door she heard Mr. Rubenstien's last breath exhale as he slipped into oblivion "Rosie, keep an eye on Mr. Riddles he's relaxing before we continue the session" and with that she left the office with a grin on her face and her mind on the tasks at hand....
Silvertiger
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