The Psychologist

     "The blood isn't enough anymore, you see." He shook his head, causing a lock of hair to fall over his forehead. Impatiently he shoved the blue-black forelock out of his eyes and met her gaze again.

     "I just don't know how to deal with it. I'm afraid of what might happen next. What do I do?"

     The psychologist started to say something, but tightened her lips against the comment. She studied her subject, the only one who insisted on night sessions. He was her pet project, this man who thought he was a vampire.

     She'd been working with him for three months now, and she'd seen him in all his moods.  She could often tell how he would be during a session by the current color of his hair. The red had been the worst. It had taken her 4 days of non-stop searching to find replacements for all
the equipment he'd destroyed.

     He sat up suddenly, swinging his legs over the side of the couch.
     "I'm afraid," he repeated.

     "Well," she said, "I think the main thing that we need to work on is the obsession with vampires that you have."

     She started slightly as he slammed his hand down on the arm of the couch. Dust flew.

     "It is not an obsession!" he shouted. "I am a vampire!"

     "Mm-hmmm," she nodded. It was not the first time he'd claimed that.

     "Dammit!" he screamed. "You're supposed to HELP me!"

     He launched himself off the couch and across her desk. Papers flew as he slid across the top. He had her then, her arms pinned to her sides by his hands.

     "You had to do that," he snarled. "Now I'll have to prove it to you."

     Dimly she realized that his eyes had changed color, from a dark brown, to a vivid, animalistic green. She was still thinking about the color of his eyes when she felt the heat of his breath on her neck. She was still thinking when she felt the icy chill as his teeth pierced her skin, followed by a terrible rushing heat through her body. Then she thought no more.

"The Psychologist" is copyright 1998, 1999, 2000 Gryphon Illustrations