And a passed-out, mushroom-powered ex-shrink in my backseat. Great. Well, can't say I didn't see this – She added, a bit warmer now, – Funny though... you're such a quiet introvert by nature, but somehow being around you is a hundred times more fun than all the office crap back home. I love this .. – Erich said suddenly, gazing out the window as the scenery rolled by.
Louisa had to admit, there was something about all this that felt... more alive than her usual escapades. Sure, she and Imani had traveled across the world—some remote, some ridiculous—but nothing had come close to the absurd joy she was experiencing here. With her weirdo brother.
Her thoughts drifted to a photo set she once saw—shown by Valeria (cool chick, if she didn't reek of stress sweat). Each shot featured Val's ex-boyfriend, dressed in a fluffy bunny costume, crawling through a field among real rabbits, sniffing for carrots—only to be handed a carrot-shaped dildo instead.
Louisa snorted, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, remembering Valeria's legendary quote: - If he says one more nasty thing about me, I'm posting the whole album. He'll be buried alive—in fluff.
- That's what I call revenge, - Louisa thought, and the idea blossomed. -What if my girl pulled something like that on me? Could she dig up some dirt?
She ran through the catalog of secrets she had on Imani: that one home video… the mole in that spot… and with each memory, her grin widened. No backstabbing for her—she was covered in blackmail. In a school of trout, she was the shark.
Her mind drifting through recent chaos, she circled back to a less fun thought: her brother was hiding something. All this dramatics, the blank stares, the Rain Man impressions—it wasn't just a mood. Something had cracked in him again. Something real.
And that scared her. What if next time, he snapped? What if it was her throat under his hands? The presence of his so-called doctor should've calmed her, but hell—those two were like matching
padded helmets. Who's more unstable? Honestly, she didn't want to hand out the -Psycho of the Year- award. They could share it.
The straight road began to curve. Civilization gave way to green and rock and mist. Louisa kept her hands on the wheel, ignoring the scenery like it owed her money. She couldn't care less about the birds or trees. What mattered was the question she needed answered when they got back.
From the backseat came a soft rustling and the unmistakable murmur of a kitten. She glanced in the rearview mirror—Sanura was squirming, pawing at the window, trying to escape Erich's hold.
Don't let her out! She'll piss all over the seats! – Louisa shrieked, full-on Mom Mode activated. But Sanura had no intention of chilling It was like someone had injected her with a microdose of rocket fuel. She clawed toward the window, dead set on escaping, even though all the windows were sealed tight. She let out a confused meow, as if asking the universe why the hell she wasn't already outside.
I don't get .. – Erich mumbled, trying to soothe her with strokes and sweet nothings. But then—right by his ear—a sharp voice cut through the air like a scalpel: Open the Let her out. She's not in control right now. Something's guiding her.
Louisa flinched and saw that the doctor—who had just been snoozing like a happy dumpling—was now bolt upright, staring into the void and speaking like a possessed priest. His calm, coma-like nap had mutated into something straight out of The Exorcist. Erich was visibly shaking, watching his trusted therapist lose his shit, but Louisa—practical as a tax auditor—knew the score: he was just tripping again. Hard.
Doc, Go back to sleep. We'll get you to a bed soon enough...
LET HER OUT! LET HER OUT! – Toshi screamed and started kicking the back of the driver's seat like a toddler mid-tantrum. He flailed wildly, shoving Erich and the equally deranged cat.
Louisa nearly lost control of the car—and thank god the road was empty, or they'd all be a red smear on the pavement by now.
She tried to regain control, but Toshi was now in full meltdown mode, pounding the car interior like it owed him money. Erich was being tossed around, and then—bam—he lost his grip on Sanura. The kitten launched herself at Toshi's face like a tiny demon, claws first, raking his cheeks open with surgical precision. Toshi screamed, leaned back to peel her off—and cracked his head on the door.
Erich lunged to catch the cat, but now they were just a tangle of limbs, blood, and yowling. No one knew where anyone was. Chaos reigned.
Louisa swerved hard and slammed the brakes, skidding onto the roadside gravel. She turned to her brother, pure fury in her eyes:
Get them the hell out, or I swear I'll lose it!
Still, the wrestling match continued. So she took matters into her own hands—literally. Louisa climbed out, flung the back door open, and out they tumbled in a heap. First to recover? Sanura, who darted off into the fields like a furry little banshee.
Erich lay draped over the battered doctor like he was using him as an emotional airbag. He grabbed his sister's hand, stood up with a wince.
Toshi followed. Now standing, dazed, still bleeding slightly, he began walking in the same direction the cat had fled—like a sleepwalker pulled by invisible string.
Louisa locked the car with a beep and sighed.
So what now? We go after – Erich muttered, dead serious.
Hell – She snapped. – It's already getting dark, and I am not trekking around the goddamn wilderness chasing after some psycho doctor and a possessed house cat. We have If we don't, something bad might happen. I'll never forgive myself. Well I'll forgive you. I'll write you a formal absolution with a glitter Get back in the car, Erich! This isn't our mess!
He didn't move.