Page 7 of Sinful Obsession

“That’s all bullshit.”

“Language,” the doctor says.

I throw my hands, frustrated before glaring at my mother. “How is this even legal?” My mother looks fed up with me but I want her to feeluncomfortable, the same way I am currently feeling at finding out my rights have been taken away. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with Judge Jansen. Was that what you were doing a few nights ago when–”

She slaps a hand on the table, anger exploding through her expression. “I am doing what I think is right.”

“Even if it means locking me away?”

The doctor sighs, trying to force a warm smile onto his face and failing. “Vienna, I mentioned before that this isn’t a prison. You arentlockedaway. It’s a way for you to heal, to find help. Do you believe the devil is real, Vienna?” His voice is calm, almost clinical but the way he says it feels unnatural. Like the word inhis mouth doesn’t belong. “Or perhaps his son? Do you believe you’re in touch with something… supernatural?”

I’m still pissed at this ‘losing my rights’ bullshit, something the doctor catches onto. He pulls one of the papers from the table and slides it toward me, an official statement signed by Judge Jansen himself. I have no idea what any of it issupposedto look like, just like I’m pretty sure the pills Michael showed me weren’t mine but now say that they are. Aside from running outside and yelling that my parents are locking me away, I have no idea what my next step should be.

It doesn’t help that Michael seems to know far more than I even told my parents. I never mentioned to them that Asmodeus was Satan’s son, not that I can remember anyway. They knew he was a demon and my lover but nothing more. It just gives me another reason not to trust this old man. Asmodeus said that my parents and friends wanted me gone and this is just cinching the idea. My mother shifts in her seat, her gaze flickering to the man as if to gauge his reaction.

Maybe I should play dumb or pretend I don’t know what this man is talking about but I’m tired of denying Asmodeus’ presence. He said that our bond would protect me so I’m going to trust that he knows what he’s talking about. “First, maybe you should have started with introducing yourself by name. Second, Asmodeus is real. I haven’t been in touch with the supernatural. He’s been on Earth, several times. He’s more man that you will ever be!”

The fury on that man’s face gives me a bit of happiness in this moment of despair. Just one more thing I shouldn’t have said but I’ll fantasize about that man’s hands, lips, and cock all day long. I mirror him, leaning back in my chair and fold my arms across my chest.

A smirk of amusement appears on his face but my mother is horrified at our interaction. “Vienna, stop this! Just take your medication. It doesn’t have to be this difficult.”

“Mom, I would take that medication if I needed it but you have never tried to understand me. Case in point that you brought the folder of my ‘sins’ to the table and gave it to a fucking doctor. What the fuck is he going to do with my sins? All the times I skipped class, talked back to you, lied about where I was? None of that is an indication for a mental illness. I’m no harm to myself or anyone else even if these ‘delusions’ are real to me. Calling the strictest mental institution around to have a go at me is the real insanity here. No, no, fucking Judge Jansen to get him to sign over my rights to you is the kicker. You and Dad are fucking hypocrites.” I push out my chair, ready to take my ass upstairs when the old man speaks again.

He stands, much taller than I expected before he sticks his hand out. “You’re right, Vienna. We should have started differently. I’m Dr. Taeller but you can call me Michael. And we’ll get this language thing under control, I assure you.” I find his name ironic but don’t mention it, shaking his hand and then quickly dropping it. His flesh burns mine, as if there truly is evil running through him. My mother settles but only slightly as Michael speaks again. “Do you believe this… Asmodeus is someone you can see and touch? Or is he simply an idea? Something inside of you?”

Yet another reason I don’t like this fucking guy is the way he said my demon’s name. No one ever says it quite right, stumbling through the name as they try to put the vowels together. Michael said it perfectly. Why would he know something like that?

“This conversation is getting old. I know my mother told you all about everything. Me rehashing it won’t do any good. I getthat you’re trying to “help” or whatever,” I say, putting air quotes up when I say ‘help’. “But I don’t need it.”

The two women exchange glances, their expressions calm, unruffled, as if they’ve seen this kind of thing before. One of them rises, her movements slow and careful, and approaches me with a soft, practiced smile. I instantly hate her too.

“Vienna, we’re here to help you,” she says. “The institute is a way for you to find yourself again, a place where you can finally find peace. We’re just here to help you find your way before we can bring you back to the life you enjoy so much.”

“And there it is,” I push out, a bitter laugh following it. “Locking me up isn’t going to do much good, especially if you think I’m seeing a motherfucking demon. What, do you guys perform exorcisms and shit there too?”

Michael shakes his head. “No. An exercised regimen of medication and rules generally helps. Your parents are worried and rightly so. You’re hostile and acting out in a way that they can no longer accept. I’ve seen this before and Briarwood Institute has helped many, many young adults like yourself.”

I glare at the man trying to gaslight me into willingly giving in but it’s not working. I’ve been fighting everyone in my life for the last six months since Asmodeus first arrived. Seeing their reactions to me and hearing what they think behind my backs is reason enough not to fall for Michael’s tricks. I’m already playing with fire so I angle my neck to the side and point to the iridescent mark Asmodeus left last night. “And this? Because he left a beautiful mark on me, claiming me. He’s mine and I’m his.”

For a brief moment, fear flashes through Michael’s expression before he fixes his face. “Vienna, I’m not entirely sure what that is but you need to understand that Asmodeus is no more real than unicorns or anything else. Your mind is creating this darkness to cope but that’s what Briarwood Institute will helpyou find. We’ll help you let go of these delusions so that you can return to your life before all of this began.”

Delusions. The word hangs in the air like a poison, a surge of anger so strong it nearly blinds me rushing through me. Whatever story my mother has crafted is so strong that no matter what I say, Michael isn’t deterred. In fact, the more information I’ve given him, the more desperate he seems to take me with him.

I reach around in my mind for Asmodeus, that comforting presence always there slipping away like sand through my fingers. A wave of desperation to keep him at my side grows and I sprint for the stairs, my feet pounding against the floor as I race toward my room. My mother’s frantically calling after me, even Michael’s steady voice saying my name in the mix but I don’t stop. I can’t.

“Asmodeus?” I yell into the darkness of my room. My door slams shut behind me as I approach my bed, wringing my hands together. “Please! Just this once. I know you’re busy and you’re—oomph.”

A hard body wraps itself around me as I sink into the familiar embrace. He kisses the top of my head as he carries me to my bed, sitting down first and then pulling me over his lap so I’m straddling his thighs. I cling to him, refusing to look up and see his expression. “Love, I didn’t know they would come. Do not trust them.”

“Why is she being such a bitch? I’m an adult and I should be making my own decisions but I can’t get out of this. I don’t even know how I would!”

He holds me tighter, rocking me side to side as he hums in my ear. “I will always be here. No matter what happens.”

“But I won’t always be here.”

“Love,hereis wherever you are. Not your room. It’s just easier to show up in the darkness. Believe me when I say that wherever they’re taking you, I’ll be there too.”

“I felt you slipping away.”

---