Axel stepped out of his car to stare at the smog of London. The rain drizzled down his forehead and flattened his damp hair to his head, freezing him as it dripped down his collar and ran down his back. The building in front of him was large, ornate, and stood on the outskirts of Britain's regal city. The words atop read St John's Hospital for the Mentally and Emotionally Unstable in old stone, and people passed on the opposite side of the road, staying clear of the place they branded cursed and taboo as they scurried by with their black umbrellas up and their hoods down over their eyes.
The redhead ignored their worried stares and jogged up the steps. The revolving doors were stiff so he had to push them hard before they squeaked and began to rotate. His muddy shoes left dirty stains on the perfectly polished floor, showing his size twelve footprints leading up to the front desk, and he leaned across the mahogany unit and banged his palm down over the bell. The security guard at the end of the hall gave him an uneasy look, and as he waited and examined his surroundings Axel found it highly entertaining to smile and wave at the man dressed in black. The guard refused to smile back, and his upper lip raised itself in an odd sneer.
At last a man dressed in a prim white lab coat approached from a door on his right, and Axel was glad of some assistance and a chance for conversation away from the oddly muscled guard that was flexing at him.
"Yes? Can I help you?"
Axel pushed himself up from the counter and smiled warmly. The man who approached him was thin and just a bit smaller than himself with wispy, grey hair pushed to one side. The frown on his face looked permanent, but there were no wrinkles lining his smooth forehead. It was a sign of a man without emotion, Axel was sure.
The redhead coughed and stood straighter, but the man ruffled through papers instead and seemed uninterested.
"I'm Axel Flint. I'm starting work here today as a psychiatrist for one of your, er… patients."
The man raised an eyebrow and stopped rummaging through papers. Cold eyes met the jade of Axel's own, and the man held out his hand.
"Glad to meet you, Doctor Flint. My name is Zexion. I'm in charge of the lower levels."
He shook Axel's hand, keeping it firm and short before he pulled it back and rummaged inside the lower pockets of his coat. After a quick search he pulled out a small black radio and held it to his lips. When he clicked it the sound of immediate static emerged and broke the hall's silence, and when he spoke he was less than happy.
"Namine? Kindly tell me why you are not at your station."
Magnetic electrons coated a panicked, female voice. "Sorry, Doctor Zexion. Xigbar needed assistance with his patient."
Zexion rolled his eyes. "I am not interested in excuses, Namine. We have a visitor."
"A visitor, Doctor?"
"Yes. Please make your way back." He turned the radio off without waiting for a response and returned it to his pocket. "So, Doctor Flint, do you know anything about the patient you will be addressing?"
Axel smirked at the cold eyes. "I know he's suffering from Dissociative Identity Disorder. The office refused to release any other personal information over the phone."
Zexion hummed. "You are American, correct?"
"Born and raised."
"What made you travel all this way? Surely someone in such high demand as yourself could easily find better work elsewhere. After all, your reputation does surpass you."
Axel frowned, unsure whether he should be insulted or flattered. Sure, he had helped people with the same disorder as the patient he was expecting to meet today, and his name was known somewhat in America, but that didn't mean he had a reputation. He decided to ignore Zexion's comment and answer his question instead.
"Your boss said all of your other doctors have failed so far. I figured I could use a challenge."
"Confident, aren't you?" He made a noise in the back of his throat and Axel wondered if it was meant as a laugh or a snigger. "I would hold your comments until you have met P13. I'm sure you'll find your challenge more than satisfying."
Before Axel could say anything a young woman of twenty-one barged through a set of double doors on his left. She blushed and closed the doors quietly, fumbling along with her white dress blowing slightly in the makeshift breeze she created. She hurried behind the desk and muttered a series of dripping apologies. She fell into her chair and blew her fringe out of her eyes, typing furiously and glancing at the computer screen occasionally before clicking the mouse and leaning back. Finally, she picked up a stray headset on her right and wound it about her neck, facing Axel.
"Sorry for your wait."
"It's no trouble," Axel said. "We were having an interesting conversation."
Zexion grunted and Namine gave an abashed smile. She never once looked at her superior as he hovered over her shoulder with his arms behind his back, and a drip of sweat fell nervously from the side of her forehead.
"Just a, er… a few quick questions before I give you your ID badge," she squeaked, pushing her fringe back.
"Fire away."
"Name?"
"Doctor Axel Flint."
Namine typed quickly, her headset raised over her left ear clumsily whilst her right remained free to listen.
"Address?"
"264 Cotview Road, London."
She nodded, staring at her computer. "Okay, last question. I need to ask you your security question. It's strictly for safety purposes, I assure you. What was your first pet's name?"
"Donald." At Zexion's raised eyebrow he grinned and explained. "Best pet duck I ever owned."
Namine smiled, pulled a set of items out from under the desk, and handed them to him. "Everything checks out," she chirped. "Okay, here you have your lab coat, which you are to wear at all times when you're working. That there is your watch, notepad and pen. If you need any refills come see me and I can get that set up for you. There's your ID card which will give you access to all the rooms you need, including your office and the room of your patient. Then there's your patient's files and finally your radio."
Axel took the items, buttoning up the lab coat. Namine continued:
"All patient files are private and must be kept under the strictest confidence. Your work hours are eight a.m. to five p.m. but, of course, we'll be happy to pay you for any overtime you work when conducting your research as long as you were on the organisation's property when said research was being gathered. Any questions?"
"Just one." Axel pocketed the pen and wore the watch, throwing the small chain with his ID card attached around his neck and leaving it to dangle across his torso. "Why do I need a radio? I have a phone."
Zexion interjected before she could respond. "Because, unless you like paying large phone bills, you'll need it. The patients here are dangerous, Doctor Flint, and sometimes so are the doctors that treat them. If you ever find yourself in a situation where you are threatened, trapped, or unable to cope, simply flick the switch, speak, and someone will come to your aid. It's a more productive system than the wireless network of mobile phones, especially since the information we hold is confidential and any network with a Bluetooth connector is considerably easy to hack. The last thing we need is the media getting a sweep of some of the information we contain. There are some very important people within these walls, Doctor Flint. Make sure you remember that."
Axel recognised the threat. Swallowing the glass comment he wanted to hurl at the cold man's face, he pocketed the radio and picked up his patient's notes. Ignoring Zexion, he turned to Namine. "So, where is this dangerous patient of mine?"
"Sir, i-it is protocol that every doctor read his patient's notes before he attempts to treat them. I'm afraid—"
"No," Zexion said.
"No, Doctor?"
"If Doctor Flint wishes to meet P13, then meet him he shall. This way, Axel, I'll show you to your office where you can deposit your things. Make sure I do not catch you from your post again, Namine. Who knows who the next person to walk through that door could be."
Namine mumbled a quiet "yes, Doctor," before Zexion strode towards the back of the room. The redhead gave Namine a sad smile as he left to following the obnoxious doctor.
Zexion entered a set of double doors and walked into a white room. As soon as Axel entered he covered his nose, his eyes began to water instantly from the stale stench of bleach, and he gagged when it stuck to the back of his throat like a bad cigar. Zexion, however, had grown accustomed to the smell, and he stalked forward with a straight back, much unlike Axel's own slumped posture.
Zexion stopped beside a brick wall that held nothing but a small keypad and an electron scanner. As Axel stepped up beside him he indicated towards the device and talked slowly, as if to a child.
"Observe, and repeat after me."
Axel growled, growing extremely irritated. Zexion pulled out his own ID card and scanned it down the keypad. It lit up green before he placed his palm on the electron scanner and waited patiently, as if bored with the process. A magnetic voice above the scanner spoke through an electronic intercom.
"Doctor Zexion. Access to floor(s): -1, -2, -3, -4, -5, -6, -7, -8. Please, enjoy your day."
The voice ended and the wall split directly down the middle, opening up to reveal a steel lift within.
"This lift is programmed to take you to your specific rooms," Zexion droned. "We cannot risk you contaminating other patients—"
"Contaminating?! I'm not a germ."
Zexion's cold eyes turned to him and the bite in the voice warned Axel that his colleague intended to finish. "It is protocol. Every doctor has one patient. It leads to a deeper personal understanding that allows us to further our research. I may access the other levels because I am in charge of them." He smirked as Axel's eyes widened in realisation that he had raised his voice to his superior—the man who had power over every decision in his current working career. "I have placed your office on the eighth floor underground where your patient, P13, is contained. I thought it would make it easier for you. When you finish the lift will bring you back to surface level. Is that clear?"
Axel nodded.
"Good. Under no circumstances are you allowed to tamper with the wiring of this lift or the identification programming tag located within your ID card. Am I understood?"
"Yes, Doctor," Axel ground out, clutching his notes tightly in his hands.
"Good." Zexion raised the radio to his lips and clicked the button. "Namine, activate the recognition programme for the electron scanner so we can get Mr Flint's ID card activated. And please remember to submit these records to the data storage files this time. No more mistakes."
"Yes, Doctor."
Zexion stepped aside and Axel scanned his ID card. It flashed green and he placed his palm upon the electron scanner. The tingling sensation ran up his wrist before the computer spoke.
"Doctor Axel. Access to floor(s): -8. Please, enjoy your day."
The intercom faded out and the lift closed before it reopened with absolutely no change to its interior.
Zexion stepped into the lift first and waited with his arms folded. Axel followed slowly and the doors hissed closed behind him.
The redhead's curiosity peeked in the lift, and he frowned to find that there were no buttons or levers of any kind—there wasn't even a manual support button in case the lift got stuck or there was an electrical fault.
As if reading his mind, Zexion explained. "This lift is programmed to take you to your planned destination. There are no buttons because you are not given the liberty of choosing which floor you explore. If there is such a rare occasion as a lift emergency, the lift will stop and Namine will receive a message via an electrical computer chip located beneath the floorboards. If she is in the correct place for once you will receive help as quickly as is humanely possible."
The lift jumped and began to descend. The silence was extremely awkward, and Axel, just for an excuse of something to do, began looking through his patient's notes whilst Zexion kept his eyes trained on the door.
As soon as he opened the notes he frowned. A black and white picture of a teenage boy was taped to the front, and the subject smiled up at the camera with a huge grin and glistening eyes. He appeared perfectly normal, but Axel knew there was a reason the boy was being held in a place as cold and cruel as this. When he turned the page he found his opinion confirmed in the form of newspaper clippings glued sloppily to the page. Looped handwriting formed small journal jottings—a section the previous doctor had written, no doubt—and Axel read it quickly.
Roxas Strife—Split Personality Disorder (Dissociative Identity Disorder)
The boy continues to resist treatment.
Currently, Roxas Strife has built about him several identities known as alters. He seems to take refuge behind these identities and until I break them I am afraid that the boy is unreachable. He says that they are protecting him, but from what is still inconclusive. I am beginning to wonder if this boy will ever be cured.
Intrigued, Axel turned the page. He ignored the newspaper clippings and continued to read the looped writing of the previous doctor.
I have recently decided to recall and write down the four alters Roxas uses to defy my advances in his treatment. Perhaps if they are written down a secret may become clear and the boy's past will begin to unravel. Until then, I am still not finding any conclusive evidence of his past. There is no record of a 'Roxas Strife' in Britain. I am beginning to think I may have to widen my search to overseas. Perhaps the boy is from foreign waters.
The first alter, and what I believe is the host of the other alters, is Roxas Strife himself. The boy is nervous and easy to upset. The mention of fire distresses him and he immediately turns to one of the alters he is housing. I believe flames may have something to do with his past, but as for what I am still unsure. Roxas can be artistic; the drawings in his notebooks are very explicit, but I still don't understand what they mean. I have taken pictures and they are logged in the back of this book.
The alter that is most dominant, Roxas has named 'Vanitas'. The male appears older than Roxas and holds a deep grudge against society—I may even go so far as to name him a sociopath. The alter is vicious to female company (as the previous doctor before me tragically experienced). 'Vanitas' can be dangerous, known to use objects as well as his, and thereby Roxas's, own body to inflict violence on doctors, including myself. Verbal abuse is common and sedatives have had been used frequently. I have often had to assemble the help of colleagues to restrain him, however, 'Vanitas' is quick to tire, and Roxas often slips in and out of consciousness in the shift between himself and 'Vanitas', as if his condition tires him.
Another alter to appear is 'Sora'. He emerges from Roxas's happier moments when he appears to have frequent blackouts over his past; forcefully suppressing the memories I need him to tell if I am to help him improve. I have attempted to confront Roxas when 'Sora' takes the halter, but unfortunately all 'Sora' wants to do is have fun. Perhaps I am wrong, and 'Sora' is the true host. However, the host is always the most submissive of the alters, and Roxas is most definitely that. Every attempt I have made to uncover Roxas's past through 'Sora' has come up fruitless.
The last of the alters to appear is 'Ventus'. He is similar to Roxas in characteristics, but holds a fighting spirit and is hostile to all he does not recognise, including Doctor Zexion. Whereas Roxas will openly talk, albeit begrudgingly and somewhat sarcastic and sardonically, 'Ventus' is harder to understand. He doesn't talk often, and when he does it is frequently in code. I have yet to un-code it as I am more worried about the influence the other alters are having upon the host.
Roxas does have better days, and on some days he can appear as normal as an average teenage boy, but on others he comes across as dangerous, sometimes turning to an alter for days on end.
I have tried all the theories of mental practices and medicines I know. The only one I have not tried is the Exposure Theory. Perhaps if I can locate and unlock his past there may be a way to save him from himself, but until he stops suppressing his memories I am afraid that there is little more I can do for him. I cannot stand 'Vanitas's' violence much longer. I have walked out of the hospital too many times and I am beginning to realise that there is more to my life than this. Perhaps the boy is curable—perhaps he is not—until I understand his past I will never know.
The lift stopped and Axel pulled himself from the notes. The door opened and Zexion waited for him to exit first, following quickly. The brilliant white florescent lights that led along the small hall were so bright that Axel had to squint, and the place smelled of hospital disinfectant. Zexion walked past him and opened a door at the end of the corridor, stepping aside so Axel could enter.
The redhead placed his hand on the large desk and dumped his notes on it, turning on the lamp to make the room a little lighter before he turned it off again. The room itself was practically empty, devoid of everything but a small bookshelf filled with red books and folders marked with dates, a small lush plant in the corner, a whiteboard with a few pens, and, of course, his desk.
"Is it to your liking?" Zexion asked.
Axel took the offered key and exited the room. "It's cute. Kind of cosy, you know?"
Zexion never smiled, but his face relaxed and Axel thought it was just as good, considering how heartless the man had been to Namine.
"I'm glad to hear it. Come, I'll introduce you to P13."
They didn't have to walk far. A little way up the corridor was a locked block with no windows—just cement walls. Zexion unlocked the door with a silver key, knocking twice before he pushed it open.
Axel followed his superior inside and stared around the room with jealousy. The room was made to look like a normal apartment; there was a couch, a small TV, and every other home furnishing a newbie moving in could wish for. Leading off from the room were two corridors, and Axel would have bet his bottom dollar that one led to a bathroom and the other to a bedroom.
Axel whistled with admiration, turning his jealous stare on Zexion. "How come I don't get a pad like this?"
Zexion opened his mouth to answer, but before he could a voice drifted over to them from the back of the couch, which wasn't facing them.
"It's because I'm a permanent resident. He knows you'll end up quitting at the end of the month, just like everybody else," a lazy voice drawled.
"Ah, Roxas," Zexion stepped forward, his hands on his hips. "Just the person I wanted to see. It is Roxas I'm talking to, isn't it?"
A teenager no older than seventeen sat up. The boy stood, stretched, and turned to face them, and Axel suddenly forgot how to breathe. The boy's eyes were a startling blue, like the sea at midnight lit by Atlantic stars, and his hair was blond and ruffled to one side, whether from sleep or styled that way Axel didn't know, or care. He wore baggy jeans that fell over his sneakers and hung lazily on his hips, revealing hints of pale skin, and his cream coloured jacket with the black checks remained half zipped. The kid gave them both a sleepy frown that was anything but intimidating; the boy had just woken, Axel observed, and he was still tired.
The blond rubbed his eyes and folded his arms. "Yeah, it's me. The others are still sleeping. Why are you here? I wasn't expecting a visit from the mighty Zexion himself."
"I'm here to introduce Axel. He's your new psychiatrist."
Axel waved, unsure of what else to do as the kid stared at him.
Roxas eventually shrugged and turned his back to them. "Why should I care? He'll end up leaving at the end of the month, just like all the others."
Axel laughed, drawing the boy's eyes back to him, but this time there was something different about them—something dangerous. "Not happening, kiddo. I'm here to stay."
Zexion stared at Axel in shock, and the redhead mouthed a 'what?'
"Look, I think you should go," Roxas said, before the blond's left side twitched fiercely. "No, just Zexion… There was no other voice."
"I think it's time we took our leave," Zexion muttered.
He pushed Axel towards the door, but the redhead wasn't listening. Instead, Axel ignored Zexion and stepped further into the room, addressing Roxas directly.
"Who are you talking to?" He craned his neck to stare around the blond, and frowned at the empty space. "There's nobody there."
"Who's not there, you fucking idiot?!" Roxas snapped, falling backwards before he caught himself and twitched. "Just get out of here, Vanitas. He didn't mean nothin' by it."
Zexion grabbed Axel's elbow and pulled him back.
Axel staggered and remembered the notes—Vanitas was one of the alters, and Roxas was trying to keep him at bay.
Interesting, Axel thought. "Hey, Vanitas, right?"
Zexion's nails dug harder into his arm and he ordered Axel to leave, but the redhead held his ground. Roxas turned, his eyes a darker shade and his fists flexing.
"What the fuck do you want? Fucking idiot."
Roxas, or rather Vanitas, stepped forward with dominance radiating from him as it appeared Roxas had fallen back into his mind and allowed one of the alters to come up and protect him.
"Yep, I read about you. Turns out you're a real asshole. A proper prick." Axel smirked and brushed Zexion from his sleeve, meeting the young teenager halfway and sizing him up. "You're supposed to be really scary, but the thing is, you're not real. You're just a damn alter; an alternate face Roxas puts up to protect himself."
Axel ducked away from the punch aimed at his head, turned, and grabbed Vanitas's arm, twisting it forcefully. He came up behind the blond's back, kicked his knees out from under him and pinned him to the ground, ignoring the blond's grunts as he pushed the boy's arm further up his back to prevent another attack.
"Axel! We do not use force on our patients. Especially not ones with such serious conditions!" Zexion growled. He yanked Axel away from the blond and dragged him from the room whilst Vanitas regained his breath.
The door slammed shut and Zexion locked it just as the vicious punches and kicks battered and dented the already damaged metal door.
Zexion glared at Axel breathlessly. "We need to have a serious talk."
"About what? If he wants to use violence then let him. I'll retaliate and eventually one of us has to give up. If I can wear him down enough then maybe—"
"This is why we always read previous notes before starting to diagnose and help our patients. Roxas is forced to have these different alters, Axel. When you spoke, something you said triggered his defensive side. Some part of him must have felt threatened or hurt enough to put that front up, and hence Vanitas came to life. Whatever memory is lodged in his skull is what is causing the damage. Perhaps by bringing it out you can help him, but violence is not the answer. What if you punch Vanitas and Roxas takes the hit, or Sora, or Ventus? We can't risk you upsetting all the work we've done so far!"
"Work? What work? All I see is a boy locked up in a prison. A pretty prison, but still a fucking prison."
"No violence, Axel. Understand?!"
Axel refused to answer. Zexion threw the key at him and stormed off, shouting over his shoulder as he went.
"I'll be down to check every morning and every night. If I see so much as one mark on him, Axel, one mark..."
He never finished his threat, but Axel knew it was severe. The sound of the lift ascending slowly stiffened out into a dim buzz and Axel turned back to the sound of Vanitas throwing himself at the door.
With a huff, Axel headed to his office. He needed a strategy, something he could do to solve the case as thoroughly and quickly as possible. But what? He had tackled two and three alters within the same body, but four? How was he supposed to handle that when the first he had met was violent? He had managed before, sure, with smaller number of alters, but he had been allowed to use whatever method he wanted, and normally the suppressed memory was already given to him, but this kid locked it away.
Frustrated, Axel slammed the door of his office shut on the outside world, regretting ever taking the job in the first place.
Welcome to the first chapter of Mr Psychiatrist :) I hope you enjoyed it.
Before you click the next button at the bottom of the page I feel obligated to warn you that this is a hard story to read. It is not for the faint hearted. I know I could be shooting myself in the foot here and losing readers but I want to do this to stop anyone reading a story they don't like. So, here we go:
WARNING!
This story has disturbing/upsetting themes/imagery. Read at your own risk. You have been warned!