The sky over the city was the color of an impending storm, a mottled tapestry of grey and black clouds that swallowed the sun.
Mr. Valen stood on the sidewalk, a still figure against the tide of people flowing around him.
He did not feel the chill that whipped newspaper pages against lampposts, nor did he acknowledge the impatient sigh of a woman who had to sidestep him.
He was supposed to get to school today, but he opted to visit his therapist since he needed her written approval prior to his resumption.
'I shall use force if necessary,' Mr. Valen thought, his hands in his pocket as he observed the office building.
Suddenly, a drop of rain struck his forehead, then another, and before he knew it, the sky had begun to weep.
People quickened their pace, opening umbrellas with soft, audible shumps but Mr. Valen remained watching as the rain darkened the stone of the building's steps.
He then moved, pushing through the heavy glass door into the quiet lobby, the chatter outside reduced to a murmur.
There was no one at the reception, but the lights were fluorescent, sickening, reflecting their overly bright rays off the tile floors and white walls.
The steady tap, tap, of his footsteps resounded in the stillness in such a way that it would make the weak-willed shudder, but he paid it no mind.
'How ironic that this is a place for the mentally unwell. I am mentally well... I think.' Mr. Valen thought.
With that, he took the elevator, standing in the corner away from a man who seemed to engaged in a phone call. He smelled of damp wool.
'Now here is one who truly requires aid,' he mused, noting the absence of any visible telephone or wireless device.
Carla's office was on the fifth floor, one amongst many therapeutic offices in this building.
'Ah, he's stopped talking,' Mr. Valen thought as he turned to his side, observing the bald man who had previously been talking to himself.
The first thing he saw was eyes, widened, staring at him unblinkingly; the man was looking at him.
But it was not normal, 'normal people often try to avoid eye contact this long,' Mr. Valen thought, his own eyes never blinking as he peered back.
"I want to eat your penis," the man suddenly spoke, his voice lighter than it should have been but Mr. Valen was not surprised.
Rather smiled slightly, "You have never harmed anyone before, have you?" he asked, his smile widening. "You have likely escaped from one of the cells herein, ha, I know how that feels."
"What-" the bald man wanted to respond, but stopped abruptly as he noted one little detail: the eyes of the man before him, they spun, unnaturally, like voids.
It was uncanny; something that, once noticed, would be impossible to overlook.
"D-demon?" The bald man stuttered, stepping back, his eyes never leaving Mr. Valen's form.
"There he is!" A loud shout suddenly cut through the silence as the elevator doors opened, exposing men in white uniforms rushing towards them.
As the men in white approached, Mr. Valen managed to utter a few words before they pounced on the bald-headed man.
The smile disappeared from his lips, and his face grew terrifyingly cold as he spoke. "Trying to escape is futile; they will always find you. It is far more advantageous to persuade them of your normality, your... humanity."
"He's a demon! It's not me you want; it's him!" the bald man shouted as he was dragged away by the men in white, but his pleas fell upon deaf ears.
The hallway was long, winding, lined with identical dark wood doors, each with a small, black nameplate.
Mr. Valen's shoes made no noise on the industrial carpet; rather, he walked, door after door, nameplate after nameplate, Dr. Evans, Dr. Michael, Dr. Minro, until finally he found the one that read, Dr. Carla.
And then he stopped.
His hand did not move toward the handle. He simply stood there, like a statue. 'I will miss this,' he thought.
Through the door, he could hear the faint, muffled tones of a voice (the previous client, perhaps).
It was a man's voice, strained, cracking on a word he couldn't make out. No, moving closer to the door, the words spoken within suddenly became clearer:
"Y-you monster, you abused my daughter, you sick fuck of a woman, n-now she's dead... All because of y-"
"I have no time for your ramblings, Mr. Edward," Carla's muffled but clear voice interrupted him. "You have attempted to confront me before... It did not end well for you, did it? We both know you cannot go to the media or the authorities. I own you. Now speak. What is the true purpose of your visit?"
Mr. Valen tilted his head at those words, his eyes narrowing at the drama. 'I knew she did this to other people, but I haven't really come across a confrontation before. What a fascinating reaction,' he mused like a clinician observing a specimen.
An emotion was happening in that room, one of pain and suffering; it was a fact, like the rain, but the suffering held no meaning for him. Prey always suffered; he was only curious about the emotion.
He looked at his own reflection, faint and fragmented, in the polished brass of the nameplate.
His face was pale, his hair dark and damp from the drizzle, his eyes were like the flat, menacing dark of the sky outside.
There was nothing in them to suggest he was a person preparing to discuss the inner workings of his own mind.
Meanwhile, "Silence," Carla commanded, "you are disturbing me."
The voice inside fell silent after he had pleaded for something unclear for a while.
A moment later, the knob turned, and Mr. Valen took a single, automatic step back as the door opened.
A red-eyed man hurried out, not looking at him, but before he could run away, Carla's voice sounded out once more. "Did I say you could leave?"
At those words, the man froze, allowing Mr. Alan to get a good look at him. He was robust, a brown-haired man with black, teary eyes.
He wore a tight t-shirt and sweatpants and looked more like a fitness coach than anything else.
Without even looking at him, the robust man walked back into the room, leaving the door slightly ajar.
From within the room, Carla's calm professional voice sounded out. "Mr. Valen, you have been standing there for a while now. Will you not come in?"
At those words, Mr. Valen scoffed, his eyes narrowing in focus as he stepped into the room.