Soul Pills

Chapter 2

Van Kulas sat watching the clock. The clock on the wall was an old style circular clock with a white front and large black hands. From across the room Van could hear the second hand tick. He could almost feel it. The clock seemed out of place in the tidy office. It was huge, almost a full meter across. It looked almost exactly like the clock that had hung on Van's third grade classroom, only much, much larger. It seemed completely out of place in this tidy, tastefully adorned waiting room. Everything about the room seemed to be designed to calm the patients who waited here. Paintings of gentle nature scenes swept across the walls, flowers and streams. None of the paintings even featured animals, Van assumed this was to minimize the impact on clients who had severe phobias.

For some reason Van couldn't stop himself from obsessing about the clock. It was a total mystery to him. His eyes moved slowly from the clock to the receptionist. She sat at her desk clicking furiously, too furiously for it to be any sort of work related activity. He had caught a glance at the task bar on her computer as he passed by and had seen several sites minimized that were obviously meant to be workplace time wasters.

Grace glanced away from her monitor and smiled at Mr. Kulas, "He should be here any minute. He's never late." Van nodded acknowledgement and allowed her to get back to whatever time wasting web game she was playing.

Van looked back up at the mighty clock, it read eight fifty three. The second hand was already half way along it's terrible march towards the top of the clock.

With only thirty one seconds left before nine a.m. Doctor Coburn came into the office, smiling. "Good morning, Grace," he cheerfully exclaimed, "And you must be mister Kulas, how are you today?" Dr. Coburn extended a hand towards Van, smoothly timing it so that his arm reached waist height just as he arrived at Van's chair.

Van rose from his chair and shook his hand, the doctor's grip was firm but not overbearing, "I am well, Dr. Coburn, quite well thank you."

"That's good to hear, but please, just call me Marcus. Only my staff and other doctors need call me 'Doctor', isn't that right Grace?" Marcus turned towards his receptionist and she grinned.

"That's right, Doctor," and with a wink she added, "though everyone has other names for you when your back is turned."

Marcus raised an eyebrow and said, "I'm certain they do. Mister Kulas, step into my office, I think I've taken enough abuse for one day, and I'm sure Grace would like to get back to her game."

Grace felt her cheeks get hot and she glanced at her screen, which still had a game sitting clearly on the desktop. She shut down her web browser and turned to the filing cabinet and dug out a stack of papers.

Marcus opened the thick door to his office and motioned for Van to step inside. Inside the office was lavishly decorated, strange statues lined a large bookshelf at the back of the room. A heavy maple desk dominated one side of the room, it's weight was palpable and made the entire room feel a little unbalanced. On the top of the desk was a small silver placard that read, "Dr. Marcus Coburn: Parapsychiatrist".

"Have a seat, mister Kulas, anywhere is fine," Marcus said as he closed the door behind him. Van chose a large reading chair near the window and sat. Marcus came over and sat, his back perfectly straight, at the chair facing his.

"Alright, Mr. Kulas, tell me what brings you here," Marcus said, gently.

"I was referred to you by my doctor," Van said, "but in all honesty I'm a little overwhelmed." Van shifted in his seat and glanced out the window. He stared for a moment at the building across the street before he said, "It's my daughter, Hannah. She... I'm not sure how to say this. I don't even know what it is you do here. I don't know why they sent me to you."

"I understand, it's still a new field, and many people are still a little uncomfortable with it," Marcus had given this speech a thousand times before. He leaned forward, "I'm a parapsychiatrist. It's simple, you've been sent to me because your daughter has extraordinary problems, problems that you don't know how to deal with. I can assure you, you've come to the right place."

"But," Van looked over at the desk, and then again at the statues, "my daughter doesn't have a problem. Hell, I'm going to come right out and say it, she has a demon. I don't know any other way to describe it. She isn't my daughter any more. We can all feel it, the darkness, she.... Her room smells of burnt hair, the wallpaper has begun peeling. Sometimes the door to her room, it... It bends. I can't bear to look.... I can't...."

Doctor Coburn placed his hand on top of Van's clenched fist. He looked directly into his eyes and said, "You aren't alone, I've seen this before, I can help you. I can help your daughter, you were right to come. You and I can work together to stop this, to bring your family back together."

Van's voice broke as he stammered, "I love my girl. Can you really..."

Marcus saw a hint of a scowl form on Van's brow. Van looked down towards the floor and whispered, "Is it true?"

Marcus smiled, and his hand tightened over Van's. He felt the clenched fist relax beneath his grasp. The man in front of him slumped back into his chair and tears rolled down his cheeks, glinting in the sunlight from the window like flawless diamonds. Almost exactly like precious, expensive, sorrow filled diamonds.