The Sadist

PROLOGUE

      

     The rain pounded against the windows relentlessly. It had no mercy on those brave enough to expose themselves to it. It fed off of their discomfort. In order to be comfortable, you must be uncomfortable. Even if that means looking death in the face just for a chance at redemption. Humans ruined everything they laid their hands on. They would rather kill something else before harming themselves. But that's who they were made to be. Selfish creatures who live their lives just to reach the end unsatisfied. The rain isn't selfish. It gives and it gives until it doesn't have anything left. But it is widely unappreciated.  And those who love the rain and embrace all of its glory are seen as different; odd. Looking out the window, the rain is doing its job. Plants are absorbing the nutrient, and people are running around trying to escape its wrath.

     Mr. Lorenzo smiles at the frail boy across from him. The boy jerks every 5 seconds, glancing nervously around the room in fear. Does he dislike the rain too? Or are his demons becoming too much to bear? "Is there someone in the corner?" Mr. Lorenzo questions with a small smile. His brief glances around the room assured him that no other souls were in the room. Of course, no souls that he can see. The boy looks up at the man nervously. He licks his lips as he ignores the figures surrounding him. They aren't there, and he knows this. All of the teen's life he's been called a freak. Was it too much to ask to just agree with his absurd words? 

 "Um...my gran'ma's 'hind me. I ain't familiar with the man 'hind you." He confesses as he makes eye contact with his psychologist. Mr. Lorenzo hums and turns around. The air is colder behind him. No vents can explain the temperature shift, but he isn't afraid. In fact, a thrill of excitement shoots up his spine at the implications. Something is in the room with them. Turning back to the teen, his smile gets wider. "Could you describe what he looks like? It is not uncommon to see figures that resemble family." At his request, the boy looks past Mr. Lorenzo to the figure leaning against the wall.

"Well, he's tall, I'd say 'bout six feet or so. Um...he's wearing a light blue shirt, and I've never seen a design quite like that. His eyes kinda look like yours, and his hair seems ta' be tied back. He's nice looking but he's looking at 'ya with a frown on his face." The boy mumbles as he quickly averts his gaze from the figure. It cut its eyes at him as he spoke the last sentence, causing the boy's heartbeat to quicken. "Well Kyle, I'm quite sure you don't have schizophrenia." Mr. Lorenzo smiled at the teen as he wrote down his findings. Mondays were always unexpected, but this case hit him harder. The rain had become considerably less harsh, and it was now a mere mist as it hit the windows every ten seconds. 

 "What do you mean? Is it even worse?" Kyle inquired as his right leg bounced up and down rapidly. His heartbeat was so loud, the Psychologist could almost feel it. "I believe you have a great gift Kyle, and the people you're seeing aren't hallucinations. Some people are special and get to see things we can't. Things that aren't from our world. You have the gift of sensed presence. And, from you're words today, I believe you are a medium. That is someone who can see and communicate with spirits." Confusion riddled the teen's head at the man's words. The teen made eye contact as he tried to wrap his head around the fact that he doesn't find him crazy, instead, he finds him interesting.

"How did you gather that in 30 minutes?"

"The man you described fits my father. And he's been dead for 18 years."