The Session Read online

  “Drugs?! You want to drug me?” Few things in the last twenty thousand years had surprised Lucifer but that did. In fact it was profoundly shocking and for a few seconds he didn't know quite what to think. The doctor was insane. The clock on the wall paid the cost of his confusion as it began to melt.

  “Treat Mr. Cypher. Treat. The medicines I'm going to prescribe aren't narcotics of any sort. They won't get you high and they aren't addictive. In fact they're very safe and I'm only going to suggest starting you off on a very low dose. The anti-anxiety medication will do nothing more than take the edge off so that you're not always worrying about how others will react to you.”

  “Medicines?! More than one?!” He wasn't just talking about one drug Lucifer realised. He was talking about several at least. Maybe a whole pharmacy!

  “Well yes. It's clear that you're suffering from a mild depression as well and I think we need to deal with that.”

  “Depression?” Lucifer was shocked all over again. He hadn't felt at all depressed until he'd walked into the doctor's office. And he still wasn't feeling depressed. He was feeling shocked – and maybe just a little annoyed by the obvious impertinence of the idea. That would not be a good thing for the doctor – or the clinic.

  “Again it's very obvious to someone with some experience in these things. You're uptight and withdrawn. Sitting as far away from me as possible, arms across your chest in a defensive posture. Your answers to my questions have been short at best as you try not to give away anything of a personal nature. And your general affect is very flat. Normally people would be profoundly affected by the things you've described.”

  Lucifer wondered if there was any point in telling him the obvious. That he was sitting as he was because the chair had never been designed for a person of his size, nor one with wings. That his arms were crossed because having his wings crushed against the back of the chair was forcing his shoulders and arms forward. Or that he was sitting as far away from the doctor as he could because he didn't want to accidentally incinerate him. But there probably wasn't any point. The doctor wouldn't hear him. And he'd likely just prescribe him more drugs.

  “These are all very classic signs of depression and a little bit of paranoia and the sooner we can get onto them the better.”

  “So I'm going to prescribe you an SSRI – that's a selective seratonin reuptake inhibiter, but you don't really need to know all of that psychobabble. All you need to understand is that it's a mood enhancer. It will make you feel better. Life will seem just that little bit cheerier. And again it's going to be only a very low dose. There is no danger of addiction and you won't have to worry about it making you feel strange or anything.”

  Actually Lucifer thought, he was already feeling a little strange just then listening to the babbling idiot. How could anyone have thought the man knew anything about anything? Where had he got all his degrees from? A box of breakfast cereal? But he guessed that it was his own fault for listening to his pets. They tended to say anything to avoid being roasted alive – again. Still they were going to have to suffer for this. Suffer for eternity.

  It was time to leave Lucifer decided. Whatever was happening, whatever was wrong with the doctor, he wasn't going to be able to help him. In fact he was just adding to his woes, not least because Lucifer was slowly giving into his anger. He wanted to roast him alive for his blindness but he knew that those upstairs would get upset with him if he did. Best to leave peacefully before that happened. To make his excuses as the monkeys said.

  “Is that it Doctor?”

  “No I'm afraid not.” The doctor shook his head and there was a slightly sad look in his eyes. “There's one more thing I think we have to get on top of. Your paranoid delusions.”

  “Ah huh.” For a moment Lucifer thought about simply letting his control slip completely and showing the doctor who he really was – then he'd start to know what a paranoid delusion was. But them upstairs wouldn't approve, so he held it back. Besides the doctor was so impossibly blind and stupid he still might not understand.

  “Look, I don't want to seem hard with you.” The doctor leaned forward in his chair and stared straight at him. “I mean this isn't your fault at all. But it's obvious that things have got a little out of control in your life.”

  “All this talk about Hell and being given the job of punishing the wicked. Doesn't that strike even you as a little odd?”

  “Okay …?” Lucifer decided to play along. After all this was going nowhere fast and he'd soon be out of here. And oddly he was a little curious as to what further insanity could come out of the doctor's mouth. The man was clearly barking mad.

  “Look here's the thing. A little imagination is a good thing. And if it helps you cope with the stuff life throws at you so much the better. But there comes a point when imagination goes beyond that. When it becomes hard to distinguish between what's real and what's not. And I'm a little worried that you've reached that point. And once you're there of course it becomes very hard to find your way back.”

  “That's when things go wrong of course. When people go beyond just thinking delusionally, they start acting on their delusions. And I'm sure you agree, we can't have that. Especially not when you're talking about punishing people. If you were ever to act on those thoughts you could get in a lot of trouble.”

  “Ever to act …?”

  “Exactly. We can't have that. Which is why I'm prescribing you an anti-psychotic. Now don't worry yourself about the term.” The doctor held up a hand as if to stop him doing something. “It's just a word. And it doesn't mean that you're crazy.”

  It wasn't him who was crazy Lucifer thought. But it would have been both pointless and rude to have said that to the doctor.

  “And in fact the particular medicine I'm going to prescribe for you is actually only for hallucinations and paranoia. It's very safe and has no side effects at all. And you're actually very lucky because it's only just come on the market a month ago. It's called Redobax and what it will do is not take away the hallucinations and negative feelings of persecution, but just give you a little distance so that you can see them for what they are.”

  “Redobax.” Lucifer was idly beginning to wonder if he should be getting a medicine cabinet with all the drugs the doctor was prescribing. The man was mad – and that did not seem a good thing for a doctor to be. Even monkeys deserved therapists with some basic measure of sanity. Then again maybe that was why so many of them came to him when they died. That they'd seen therapists like this one. Well meaning fools who clearly had no idea what they were doing.

  “Yes. Brand new on the market and if I do say so myself it will change the entire nature of psychosis management. And I should also mention in the interests of full disclosure that I did design it myself. One of my interests is pharmacology. But it has now completed its stage three drug trials and been proven one hundred percent safe and ninety eight point two percent effective. So I'm not foisting an experimental drug on you or anything.”

  “Uh huh.” Lucifer wasn't completely sure he believed him. Certainly there was nothing of deception in the doctor, though maybe a touch too much pride. But still –?

  “And just between you and me, I can personally attest to its effectiveness. I'm on it right now.”

  Lucifer's mouth dropped exposing his rows of yellow teeth to the world and letting a little of his naturally sulphurous breath escape. The floor creaked alarmingly underneath them as it's steel and timber beams started to corrupt. And the ceiling started to bulge, threatening to fall down on top of them. For a while it was all he could do to contain himself as he heard the doctor's unbelievable confession and it took some time before he could ask the obvious question.

  “You're taking anti-psychotic medicines while you're treating patients?” That seemed wrong to Lucifer somehow. In fact it seemed like some sort of sin. And when he thought about it he had a great many drug taking bungling doctors in the pit. The only difference being that they'd been on narcotics – giving in to tempta
tion in place of caring for their patients. And yet perhaps it explained a little of the doctor's blindness. Finally something did.

  “Yes, and you would not believe how effective it is. I mean right now I'm seeing all sorts of things you would not believe. I mean when I look at you and hear what you tell me I actually see all sorts of strange things. Things I couldn't even describe. But thanks to the Redobax I'm able to completely distance myself from those things, and to know what's real and what isn't.”

  “Is that ethical?” Lucifer thought that he'd better ask – if only so that he could isolate the sin and work out just how likely it was that the good doctor would be coming to him in due course.

  “Completely.” The doctor smiled reassuringly at him. “Redobax actually helps me in my work. It lets me concentrate and focus on my patients. Since I started taking it my patients have experienced an eighteen percent decrease in the need for appointments. They're being treated more effectively.”

  “Uh huh.” It seemed more likely to Lucifer that they were not coming back simply because they thought their therapist was crazy. And he just might be. However he was certain that the doctor wouldn't see things that way.

  “It truly is a miracle drug. And you'll find it just as effective. Honestly Mr. Cypher, in a few days you'll see things so much more clearly that you'll wonder how you could ever have imagined what you did.”

  Lucifer stared at the doctor for a bit, wondering just how mad he truly was. The man was designing his own drugs and taking them. Surely that had to be the very height of madness. And the fact that he then felt sufficiently well to treat patients only added to the craziness of it all. And despite what he said Lucifer was certain there had to be some sort of medical ethics breach occurring. Then there was the fact that the drugs had actually cost him any chance of seeing what was right in front of him. He had made himself so sane that he actually could not see a fallen angel sitting in his own office. Because that would be insane. Suddenly Lucifer felt the need to return to the more honest sanity of hell.

  He stood up. It was time to go.

  “Well thank you Doctor, you've been an eye-opener.” And he had, but not in the way the doctor would have expected. The man thought he was doing a good job.

  “Good, good. Most of my patients seem to think so.” He meant it too. There was not a trace of a lie on his lips or in his heart. He seriously thought he meant it as a compliment and Lucifer wasn't completely sure whether that was the drugs talking or simply the doctor's own ego.

  Yet strangely Lucifer realised that the doctor had actually helped him. Not as the doctor would have wanted to, and definitely not as he thought he had. But simply by his example. This man was one of the Earth's top rated therapists. He was considered incredibly bright, had done all his degrees and a lot more besides. He was actually developing drugs in his spare time to help in the treatment of his patients. And yet he had drugged himself to the point where he couldn't see reality.

  It was an odd thing to realise but if this was one of the monkeys' most intelligent members and a man considered sane enough to treat others, then what were the rest? Why should he expect any intelligence at all from those in the pit. Or sanity? Why should he care what they thought? If they feared, or loathed or hated him? If their best and brightest didn't have a clue what was real and what wasn't, how could he expect it from them? And how could he consider their opinions to be worth anything at all?

  Suddenly Lucifer felt quite good about himself. In fact he felt a renewed enthusiasm for his work. No more would he worry about the monkeys in his care and what they thought of him. He would not consider being gentle on them because they might get upset with him. If they didn't like him, so what! Their opinions were worthless.

  In fact he thought, he might start increasing the torments. Really start burning the wickedness out of them. It was time to stop being easy going as the monkeys said. It was time to get serious about his work. To heat those flames until the exquisite agony they caused could be felt even here on Earth. To make the screams of the damned loud enough to be heard by the deaf.

  “Well I hope I've provided some insight into your condition and a little light at the end of the tunnel. And I do want you to know Mr. Cypher that you will get through this.”

  “Of course Doctor. I feel better already.” Which was the literal truth. In fact he felt renewed in a way he would never have expected. Actually he was in a hurry to return to the pit and continue his work.

  “Good.” The doctor stood up as well, finally finished at least with writing in his notepad. “I'm glad.”

  “You can pick up your prescriptions from the front desk in a few hours, and I expect to hear that the drugs have helped when next we meet. Now obviously I'm going to want to do a follow up session with you in a week. But after that I'm sure you'll be feeling so good that you won't need to come back save for repeat prescriptions and check ups.”

  “Of course Doctor.” Obviously Lucifer had no intention of picking up the prescriptions. Why should he? Even if any drugs at all would have worked on him he would never have trusted anything this man would proscribe. He would never trust anything a human soul said or thought again. “And thank you.”

  “You're welcome and I wish you all the best.” The doctor held out his hand once more, and this time Lucifer really did wonder if he should shake it. It might be the kindest thing for the doctor after all. The best thing for his patients too. But he decided against it. He didn't need the trouble from upstairs. Besides if this drug taking fool really was trying to help others by pushing his drugs on them there was a very good chance that he was actually inadvertently sending more souls his way. Maybe those upstairs had been hoping he'd kill him. That he'd do the thing which they couldn't.

  “Perhaps next time Doctor.”

  And with that Lucifer walked out of his office feeling really quite good about things. He couldn't wait to get back to Hell and really throw himself into his work.

  He suspected he might actually be the only patient who'd ever left the doctor's office feeling that way. His only wish was that one day the doctor might see how he had helped him. How much better Hell would run because of his session.

  Of course the doctor probably wouldn't be able to see any of that.