I'm a Therapist, and My Patient is Going to be the Next School Shooter

by Dr Harper

  249,660 rituals. And he only missed 14 times.

  That’s a 99.995% success rate.

  “What about ‘sorry for bothering you’?” I asked. “What does that part mean?”

  He shook his head. “I have no idea.”

  We sat there in silence for a while, and I just stared at my notebook in disbelief.

  Then Phil spoke up again.

  “You have to help us,” he begged. “We’ve tried everything, but he’s always watching. I don’t think he’s human. I think– I think he might be a demon or a ghost.”

  I did my best to conceal a harumph. Yeah, I don’t believe in that stuff. To me, those are code-words for “overactive amygdala”, which was – unsurprisingly – another aspect of OCD. I like to think every mystery has a practical explanation, set here on planet Earth.

  “So your daughter – Eleanor – she had to do the same ritual, or the same thing would happen?”

  They nodded.

  There was no point in pretending to write in my notebook anymore. I had no idea what was happening.

  Father, mother, sister, daughter. Father and daughter have to perform 5-minute rituals otherwise mother and sister get stabbed by omniscient stalker.

  I didn’t know what was worse. The fact that they refused to involve the police because of this omniscient stalker, or the fact that I was about to go along with it.

  “Phil, I need to be honest with you,” I said. “Given the severity of your OCD, I have suspicions that you may also be suffering from co-morbid episodes of dissociation.”

  “Dissociation?”

  “When we disconnect from our bodies and minds,” I said. “It’s possible that you could be the man with two knives, and his victim.”

  “My god, will you stop diagnosing people with mental disorders and listen to us?” Anne spoke up angrily. “We have surveillance videos, we wired the whole house. It’s not Phil. It’s some sort of… evil spirit.”

  “You have videos?” I asked, curious. “May I view them?”

  Hopefully we could put an end to this supernatural talk, once and for all.

  She nodded and took out her phone.

  “This is from last year,” she said, handing the phone to me. “Phil accidentally said ‘Love You’ instead of ‘Love Two’.”

  I watched the footage – four panels at once. In the master bedroom, Phil and Anne made their way into their bed. In the guest room, Anne’s sister read a book in bed before shutting off the lights. In Eleanor’s room, a young teen girl typed away on her laptop before finally drifting off to sleep. The front entrance to the house showed no signs of life.

  Then I just waited. Phil did his ritual a few times on the couch while I continued watching.

  But nothing happened for a long time. I wasn’t sure if I was missing something.

  And that’s when I saw it.

  A man in full body armor marched into the sister’s bedroom. He had two butcher’s knives, one in each hand.

  I’m normally not a sucker for horror, but I’ll admit I jumped. I wanted to call out and warn her.

  And then, with surgical precision, he lifted one knife and drove it into her stomach.

  She lurched out of bed and screamed, and just like that, the man with two knives walked out of the frame. The others bolted out of bed and ran for her room, but I was busy watching the front door.

  No one ever came out.

  Jesus Christ. That video changed everything. I’ve been wrong plenty of times, but I’ve never been this wrong. Could Phil even be diagnosed with OCD if his fears were completely rational?

  I handed the phone back to Anne and said, “This is terrifying. I’m so sorry for–”

  “Love one, love two…” Phil began his ritual again. “Sorry for bothering you.”

  For some reason, that last sentence really made me uncomfortable. Something about the way Phil whispered it in that lower voice – it didn’t even sound like him.

  He pressed a button on his Apple Watch and looked back up to us.

  “Is that how you keep track of the 5-minute intervals?”

  He nodded. “It vibrates 30 seconds before. Then loud alarm at 20 seconds. And at 10 seconds, it calls everyone.”

  I shook my head. What kind of life was this?

  “I’m so sorry for doubting you,” I said. “This must be hell for you and your family.”

  “We have the video of Eleanor too,” said Anne through tears. “The one where he took her away from us.”

  I bit my lip and accepted the phone.

  For the next few minutes, I watched their family perform their nighttime routine again. And then later in the night, the man appeared again. This time, he walked into Eleanor’s room and covered her mouth. She squirmed violently, but no one in the house could hear her. Then he began stabbing her repeatedly – almost as if he was punishing her. Eventually, her body went limp, and he dragged her body downstairs and out the front door.

  I closed the phone and shoved it back to Anne, as if it had some kind of curse that could be passed along to me. What had gotten into me?

  “You’ve searched the house for him, right?” I asked. “Because he doesn’t seem to enter or exit the house.”

  “Of course we have,” said Phil. “I’m telling you, he’s not human.”

  I cleared my throat. “I fully understand your conclusions, but I’m a student of science,” I said. “Would it be okay if we tried my way – the scientific method? Just a few controlled experiments. And if that doesn’t work, you’re free to explore a medium or ghost hunter.”

  “Experiments?” Phil asked nervously.

  “I would like access to your security feed,” I said. “I think he has access too, hence why he’s able to watch your every ritual. So I want to be in a contained room with you, while we try various combinations of your ritual. If this man doesn’t know whether or not you perform the ritual–”

  “He always knows!” Phil protested. “He’ll hurt them.”

  Anne squeezed his hand tighter. “We’ll do it.”

  “What?”

  “Please, Phil,” she said. “We have to try something. I can’t live like this anymore.”

  He took a deep breath and nodded.

  “So what do you need us to do?”

  “Phil, I’d like you to stay with me in this office for the next couple of days. I’ll get some blankets for the couch,” I said. “Anne, I need you and your sister to act like everything is normal at home, even in Phil’s absence. And if you suspect anything is off, please call me.”

  They both nodded apprehensively.

  After answering a few more of their questions, I escorted Anne from my office.

  “Noah, can you stay late these next few nights? I’ll pay you overtime.”

  I needed someone to watch the door and make sure no one was listening.

  “Sure thing, Dr. Harpy.”

  I stared at him. “Harp-er,” I said. “Harpy is a rude, foul-tempered woman.”

  He went pink. “Oh, right.”

  ◆◆◆

  Experiment #1: Control Group - Do The Ritual

  First, I had to set a baseline. What happened if Phil did the ritual successfully every 5 minutes in my office, with only me watching, and no one else?

  So that’s what we did for the rest of the afternoon and evening. I just sat across from Phil and watched him perform his ritual every 5 minutes.

  He did it with such a sense of duty and purpose. It was somehow both disturbing and inspiring to witness.

  Finally, we reached 11pm and I turned to the security camera feed on my laptop. Anne and her sister made their way into bed, and for the rest of the night, nothing happened.

  A lucky guess for the man with two knives.

  Tomorrow we would make things more interesting.

  ◆◆◆

  Experiment #2: Experimental Group - Forget Love One

  “Today, I need you to mess up ‘Love One’.”

  Phil looked at me miserably. �
�Please…”

  “He won’t hurt Anne,” I said encouragingly. “There’s no possible way he’ll know you missed, let alone who you missed. It’s just the two of us in this room.”

  He took a deep breath and nodded.

  But for the next eight rituals, he continued to say everything correctly.

  “Phil, I promise everyone is going to be okay,” I said. “Don’t you want to save Anne from this hell?”

  He looked up to me and closed his eyes. “Okay.”

  We waited another five minutes for his Apple Watch to light up, and then I leaned forward in anticipation.

  “Love– Three– Love Two. Sorry for bothering you.”

  He fell back into the couch and burst into tears.

  “Oh god,” he said. “I’ve doomed her again.”

  I rushed over and comforted him. “You’re helping her,” I said. “So you don’t have to live like this anymore.”

  He continued the rituals correctly for the rest of the day and evening. Then I turned back to the security feed and watched Anne and her sister perform their nighttime routine. Phil refused to watch.

  They fell asleep and nothing happened. I knew it. The man wasn’t omniscient. He was just watching their security feed.

  But then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something change in Anne’s video.

  It was him.

  How the hell–

  I lunged for my phone and called Anne’s cell phone. She didn’t answer.

  “Fuck,” I whispered.

  “What’s happening?” Phil asked.

  “Call Anne’s sister!” I said. “Do it now!”

  I watched the video as the man walked robotically toward Anne in bed.

  “He’s there,” I heard Phil speak into his phone. “He’s going for Anne.”

  He ended the call without another word.

  “Why did you hang up!”

  “There’s no point,” said Phil, defeated. “He can’t be stopped.”

  Heart racing, I turned back to the video feed as the man walked closer.

  “Wake up, Anne…” I stared at the screen and bit my lips. “Get out of there.”

  And then I watched as the man drove the knife into Anne’s thigh.

  “What the FUCK!” I kicked my trash bin across the room. “How did he know?”

  “We keep trying to tell you… He’s not human,” said Phil.

  I shook my head and stormed out of the room.

  “Noah!” I barked. “When I took that phone call with the school yesterday, did anyone come in or out of my office?”

  “No, doc.” He shook his head, eyes wide. He’d never seen me like this before.

  “How did he know?” I repeated under my breath as I turned back toward my office.

  Then Noah spoke up again. “Maybe he really is a demon?”

  I spun around. “Are you– Are you listening to our sessions?”

  He went white. “Uh– Only a little.”

  “Noah…” I rubbed my fingers into my eyes. “You need to go home.”

  “Come on!” he said. “I’m– I’m experienced with psychology stuff.”

  “You took Psych 101 in college!” I said, exasperated. “I don’t have time for this.”

  “What if he’s really a demon though?” said Noah. “Shouldn’t you–”

  “He’s not a demon!” I snapped, turning back to my office. “Someone is listening to us.”

  And that’s when it hit me like a ton of bricks.

  Oh my god.

  I hurried back into the office and approached Phil.

  “Phil, I’m so sorry for failing you,” I said. “I need to get us some dinner. I’ll be right back.”

  Before he could respond, I held my index finger up to his lips, and reached down for his Apple Watch. I unfastened the metal strap and carefully removed it from his wrist, placing it on the table without making a sound.

  I took my finger from his lips and motioned for him to follow me out of the office.

  He did.

  “What’s going on?” he whispered when we got into the lobby.

  “I think someone is listening through your watch,” I said quietly. “You wear it wherever you go, right?”

  “Yes.” He nodded. “All day, every day.”

  “Ohhh…” Noah nodded gravely from behind his desk.

  I gave him a light smack on the head with my notebook. “Not a demon.”

  “But who would be listening?” asked Phil.

  “I don’t know,” I said. “But we’ve bought ourselves some time. He thinks you’re alone in my office, and you don’t need to perform your ritual until morning, which gives us about three hours to figure out who’s doing this to you.”

  “But how?” asked Phil. “How can we figure it out?”

  “I’ve spent all this time playing detective, I’ve forgotten to do my actual job,” I said. “Phil, I need to know about your past.”

  “What do you mean?” he asked.

  “Before the ritual,” I said. “Who were you? What was your life like? Any enemies… bitter exes, bad business deals?”

  “Or loans from the mafia…” Noah said seriously.

  I glared at him.

  “I don’t remember.” Phil shook his head. “I can’t remember anything from before the Disney trip. We woke up in a daze. It felt like we’d been drugged.”

  “You don’t remember anything about your life before that?”

  He shook his head.

  I thought for a moment, and then said, “Have you ever been hypnotized?”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Like where magicians make you do funny stuff?”

  “No, that’s stage hypnosis,” I said. “In therapy, we use it to calm the patient and access a deeper state of mind. You still have full control of your mind and body. Some call it pseudo-science, but I’ve seen several patients uncover forgotten memories with it.”

  “I’ll try anything.”

  “Great,” I said. “This isn’t exactly an ideal environment, but we don’t have the luxury of time, so we’ll have to make do. Noah, can you dim the lights?”

  He eagerly jumped out of his seat and turned down the lights. Then he sat back down at his desk.

  I looked at him and pointed to the building’s front door. “Out.”

  “Oh, come on– let me stay!” he said. “I won’t cause any trouble.”

  “Noah–”

  “It’s fine.” Phil spoke up softly. “I don’t mind.”

  Noah gave him a huge smile. I rolled my eyes and turned back to Phil.

  We sat down in the waiting room chairs and I began the hypnotic induction. You don’t do it with a swinging necklace, like in the movies. Normally I’d approach it with a gradual relaxation method, but we only had a few hours before Phil had to start his rituals again, so the rapid Elman method was probably our best bet.

  “I want you to close your eyes, and then imagine your eyes are too tired to stay open…” I said quietly. “Like when you’ve had a long few days with no sleep, and your head finally hits a pillow… Finally, you can let go and catch up on your rest… Your dreams get started very quickly… The harder you try to open your eyes, the harder they stay shut…”

  He closed his eyes, and we continued down this path for a few minutes.

  “Now, when I drop your left hand into your lap, you will go ten times deeper…” I gently lifted his left hand, then lowered it slowly and placed it on his leg. He rocked slightly from side to side.

  We did the same with his right hand, and then got started on counting clouds. “As each cloud blows away with the breeze, you fall into a deeper state… Deeper and deeper every time…”

  After a few more minutes, I felt confident that Phil had entered a hypnotic state. That was lucky. A lot of people don’t respond to it, because their logical mind is too busy trying to prove it wrong.

  I’m one of those people.

  “Now, Phil,” I spoke in a calming voice. “What can you tell me about yo
ur childhood?”

  He took a relaxing breath. “I don’t remember.”

  “That’s okay,” I said. “What about your trip to Disney with your daughter, Eleanor?”

  His face broke into a sad smile. “I loved Eleanor.”

  “She sounded like a very special person,” I said. “What was her favorite ride at Disney?”

  He swayed a bit. “I don’t remember.”

  This was unusual for hypnosis. Usually patients were more receptive to questions.

  “What about your ritual?” I asked. “Do you have any idea what ‘sorry for bothering you’ means?”

  He shook his head slowly. “I don’t know.”

  “Could you try performing the ritual for us now, Phil?”

  He nodded. “Love one, Love Two… Sorry for bothering you.”

  His voice got deep and raspy with that last sentence again. “Can you do it again?”

  “Love one, Love Two… Sorry for bothering you.”

  “Just the last part now?”

  “Sorry for bothering you.” He repeated it in that same low voice.

  “Again?”

  “Sorry for bothering you.”

  “Again?”

  “Sorry for bothering you,” he said. “But can you spare some change for a vet and his little girl?”

  He held his hand out to me.

  I stared at it for a moment. Vet and his little girl…? Spare change…?

  Did Phil used to be homeless or something?

  And then my heart started racing.

  Holy shit.

  “Noah,” I whispered. “That new patient I asked you to push back yesterday…”

  He frowned. “The dude who gave people HIV?”

  “No,” I said, “That homeless kid– the one who claimed to escape from a cult. What was that patient’s name?”

  He took out his iPad and started swiping hurriedly.

  “Homeless kid who escaped a cult,” he said.

  I stared at him incredulously. “The name, Noah!” I said. “Column A.”

  He swiped one more time and then his face froze, illuminated by the light of the iPad.

  “Woah…”

  “For god’s sake, what’s the name!”

  “Eleanor,” he whispered. “Her name is Eleanor.”

  PART THREE

  I don’t want to lose your respect, but you’re about to see a different side of me.