The Helix Ion Part 1
"Gone, all gone", he choked, "My life. Burnt to embers and ash…..DAMN, ITS ALL GONE!"
"It's alright just calm down, I'm here for you".
The room was lit by hazy filament light that originated from eight bulbs along the tops of the walls, encased behind opaque shades that created no shadows yet still allowed a level of intimacy and comfort to be projected into the centre of the room. His fur had a silver tint that caught the artificial light harshly on the top head, as if it was sprinkled with moon dust. Instead of the soot that plastered him. Charlotte stared at the old wolf, hunched over and shaking slightly with anger. He was a mess. His filthy clothes and matted fur didn't do him any sympathy either; Charlotte was starting to wonder who would.
No, she thought to herself in silent dedication, now was not the time to falter, she'd listen to people troubles before, but nothing, nothing like this. She knew that she had to be supportive, who knows what he would do, considering his circumstances.
The furniture in the room was basic yet homely, lots of polished, antique looking items of furniture with curved edges made of mahogany and redwood. She gazed upon him and was pitiful for a few brief moments before his head hinged upwards. He stared coldly into her large, bright eyes, baring his teeth at the compassion he saw inside of her, what good would it do him? He knew it was an act anyway, it always was.
His eyes, as unfriendly as dots, shot feelings of loss and anger along his muzzle and into her eyes, piercing through her like bullets, even when she looked away. The anger and self-pity that wallowed inside him emitted outwards like a beacon. Not even Charlotte could stop herself from shuddering at the monster in front of her.
"Can I continue? Please?" He replied with short, abrupt growl.
"y-yes", she stuttered.
Charlotte knew she shouldn't have been scared. But she was. The room also displayed some framed pictures and an encased certificate proving that Charlotte was in fact the highly qualified psychologist she was employed to be. All these things made her room resemble a teacher's office apart from the large, padded chairs that dominated the middle of the room along with a large coffee table.
"Late last night a fire lit inside my house. I had no idea what was happening until it was too late, true I survived", he continued after a pause, "But I'm not sure how much of me is left; after the second time".
He jerked upwards slightly, and without knowing it he bared his yellowed teeth and his ears became alert, and his eyes darted around the room, Charlotte waited in suspense but then the moment passed as if it nothing had happened. He hadn't noticed, but Charlotte had, it had been subtle yet… full of emotion, he was afraid.
The old wolf leaned closer," I lost every material possession that I owned; nothing was spared by the fire. Everything was destroyed. Can you imagine what that feels liii..."
His voice faltered mid syllable and he started to shake more violently, his rage resurfacing before his mood lightened and he started to speak again. Charlotte was about to respond when he continued,
"In life I never faced any problems, life was easy I had power", he reflected, "Friends, money, yes money"; he rasped coldly nodding his head. "Money that kept me safe and comfortable, I thought it segregated me from that scum on the streets", he spat, "But…."
He looked at Charlotte again, this time for recognition,
"No one's immune", he continued calmly," I have joined their ranks, my friends abandoned me. Cast out into the rain like filth",
He straightened in his chair whilst remaining hunched over, "I have nothing to show for my life". As he sat in silent contemplation Charlotte spoke as confidently as she could,
"But surly you can move on, can't you?"
"I would like too", he mumbled, like in a trance, staring at his left paw as he rubbed the pads on his index and middle digits with his thumb. "But…"
Suddenly his pupils exploded open and his paws seized up and he fell to his knees holding his head, gasping painfully.
"I…I…..want to move on. SON OF A BITCH", he cried in agony rolling around on the floor. His ears were low on his head and his tail curled up between his legs. He let out a long high pitched whine and his back legs started to jerk spasmodically as he scrabbled at his muzzle. Every word was a struggle, as if he were fighting to stay conscious,
"Why can't I move on",
Charlotte was terrified, never in all of her years had she seen such a strong repressed memory, she knew that she had to keep him talking no matter his condition.
That had been 1 hour ago…
Charlotte was still in her office, she had collapsed into one of the soft, velvet chairs and put her feet onto the table, he had gone home to temporary accommodation but it felt as if he was still there, he had had that kind of feeling that something wasn't right with him. Not something mentally or physically off, just something quite different and unique that lingered around. It gave her the shudders, especially after what she had learnt of his past.
Charlotte Hudson's office was as it always had been, with some clutter on the desk and the book case but overall fairly tidy. It looked as it had been used and made one's own but in reality the room's aesthetics were engineered to create a stress free and safe environment in which to allow the subject to release their thoughts, feelings and emotions with the lowest probability of said process manifesting into violence. Charlotte sighed, text book to the letter. Sometimes she wished that she had made an impression on the room over her 6 year inhabitancy of it. To show some kind of tangible progress or difference she might have made, but alas it was not to be. One of the things her usually easy going boss insisted on was text book procedure; he acted like a teacher, which just added evidence to Charlotte's way of perceiving this place as a school.
Charlotte sighed once again, as she relived what she had learnt in the previous hour about his past and about what was still yet to come from the mysterious Vietnamese wolf…