Free The Session by Greg Curtis Page B

arrivals in the pit had a similar one as they tried desperately to deny where they were. It was human he supposed. But it did not seem a good thing in a doctor he'd come to for advice.
     
    “It's Lucifer.”
     
    “Oh.” The doctor made a small noise of surprise, grabbed a notepad and pen from his desk and started scribbling in it. It was then that Lucifer started to wonder if he'd made a mistake in coming to see him. The man didn't react when the Prince of Darkness walked into his office, but started taking notes when he refused to shake his hand or contract his name into whatever twisted mess he'd made it. There was something strange at work here. But still the man was an expert in his field. Actually he was the expert. Something the wall full of degrees behind him attested to.
     
    “Please take a seat Mr. Cypher.”
     
    Lucifer did just that, a little cautiously as he was worried the chair would collapse under his weight – especially if he let too much of his influence out and corrupted it. But it held for the moment and he slowly relaxed back into its thick cushions, annoyed by the way it didn't fit him, while the doctor sat down opposite him.
     
    “Now tell me how it is that you think I can help you.”
     
    “People don't like me.” Lucifer went straight to the heart of the matter. After all his time was precious, he had work to do, souls to torment. And he was never one to waste time on silly words. That dislike was the core of his pain. What he still didn't understand was why it should matter. He was the prince of darkness. People didn't have to like him. Fear was good enough. Obedience was better. Or at least it always had been. But he was beginning to suspect that these monkeys had done something to him. Infected him with their strange ideas. And he didn't like it. He wanted it gone.
     
    “Really now Mr. Cypher.” The doctor stared at him from his seat opposite with a knowing look. “You seem like a very personable chap. Is it that they don't like you? Or just that you think they don't like you?”
     
    “No they don't like me. I walked into your waiting room and everyone fled. Your receptionist leapt out of a window to get away from me.” Lucifer figured it was best to get things out in the open as quickly as possible. The sooner the doctor understood his problem, the sooner he could come up with a solution. A way of making people like him. Of course that might be difficult when he spent his days torturing them, but there was always hope. And after all it was just a job. It wasn't as if he did it for amusement. The sinful had to be punished. That was clear enough. Even the wicked should understand that. But already he suspected that the doctor wouldn't.
     
    “Did she now?” The doctor's face showed a touch of professional concern. “I'm so sorry about that Mr. Cypher. But you mustn't blame yourself. Sally is a recovering alcoholic. I hired her because I thought she could identify with the patients, but obviously the position was too much for her.”
     
    “And you needn't worry either. I'm sure she's all right. I had special automotive glass windows installed which shatter rather than break and so won't cut people. And the ground outside the building is planted with thick shrubs to break a fall. You'd be amazed how often this happens. One in every nine and a half thousand patients will in fact panic and do something foolish and even life threatening when faced with therapy.”
     
    “Security will no doubt tend to her and call an ambulance if it's needed. And for the moment you are the one that needs my help. So tell me – why do you think people don't like you? What is it about you that causes them to dislike you?”
     
    Something seemed wrong with the doctor's attitude Lucifer thought. Perhaps he wasn't the most socially aware as these monkeys claimed, but still it seemed strange that the doctor should so easily dismiss his receptionist's fall. On the other hand at least his session