"They found my sister’s body folded in half, stuffed inside a violin case, just like the other four girls," a calm, almost melodic voice spoke slowly, each word dripping with nothing.
It was male.
There was a brief stillness.
"The Artist... Is that all you remember, Valen?" An inquisitive female voice asked. "You can open your eyes now, look to the mirror at the side, look into your soul."
"Hmm," the male voice hummed and opened his eyes, his gaze blurring slightly as he observed the woman before him.
She had blonde hair, tied in a bun, her blue eyes gentle or blank, depending on who was looking.
Her fitted suit, a Raindrop special edition, had not the slightest wrinkle on it, but it looked old, overkept.
Yet all this was not relevant to him; all he could see was the grayish tentacle behind her, a single eyeball at its tip, looking at him.
"Should we have sex again, Miss Carla?" The dark-haired man asked the woman before him, but he was not looking at her; rather, he stared at her chair, watching the tentacle move.
Her chair was high-backed, imposing, the leather cracked at the edges, it too was old, like everything else in the room.
A single low table stood between them, a drawer slightly ajar, revealing the glint of a prescription pad.
To his words Carla folded her legs, her eyes narrowing slightly. "That won’t be relevant, Valen."
"You seem... annoyed, but you were the one who raped me, Miss Carla," Mr. Valen spoke, with the same calm voice, and then he looked at her, her eyes this time. "Are you afraid of me?"
"I am not," Carla simply responded, swallowing hard. "I simply wish to appeal to your better nature, to the person behind the... person suit you wear, like your mother taught you to."
"You call it my better nature?" The male voice asked before saying. "Everyone keeps saying my mother is a monster, but I don’t think that."
"You don’t remember her, you don’t remember anything about the accident," Carla chuckled.
Shaking his head, Mr. Valen looked to the bookshelf by his right, where the tentacle had appeared again. "Well, I do remember the first time I met her, it was when I was eight years old, at the convenience store-"
"Where she stole you from your real parents and raised you for seven years, till she was caught," Carla groaned, before taking down a few notes on her notepad.
As she did this, Mr. Valen looked to the great mirror at his side, hoisted like some kind of relic, a young man with messy dark hair and fair skin came into view, and the tentacle stood beside him. "I’m done with High School, and my old man managed to get me into, college."
"That’s nice, how does that make you feel?" Carla responded, licking her lips.
"It makes me feel good," Mr. Valen smiled, his lips dry.
"Don’t patronize me, I’m trying to tear down your person suit, not rebuild it," Carla sat up, her guard increasing. "You do understand that you need my sign-off before you can attend, right?"
"I assure you, Miss Carla, I’m completely healthy," Mr. Valen spoke slowly, but before he could say any more, he was interrupted.
"No, I understand that you’re healthy, Valen," Carla spoke, her voice faint. "But your tendencies, the way you act when around other people the-"
"Are you saying I’m a killer or a psychopath or something similar?" Mr. Valen cut her short, inquiring with a laugh.
At his words, Carla went quiet for a bit, before standing up. "As if a kid like you could hurt a fly, whatever it is that is wrong with you, we have not the name for it, but I can assure you it does not make you any more worthless."
With those words, Carla walked towards the exit and locked the door, she then turned back to Mr. Valen and spoke once more. "Your hour is over. Now it’s... my hour."
Hearing this, Mr. Valen tilted his head, but he did not speak; rather, he watched as Carla undid her suit button.
As she did this, the tentacles all around the room seemed to grow, all inching back towards her, but as she walked past them they scattered like the most they were, all part of his disordered fancy.
He had seen this before.
"Are you going to molest me again?" He asked upon noticing her actions.
Carla, at the sight of this chuckled and undid her blouse, revealing her bosom held together by a dark laced bra.
She drew closer to him quickly watching as his body tensed when she drew near. "Worthless pig," she began, her hand flashing.
"Pa!" She slapped him across the cheek, with all the force she could muster, the force echoing in the room.
Mr. Valen, a bit disoriented fell to the floor, his breath hitching as a small smile graced his face. ’It’s this pleasant feeling again, what is it? this feeling?’
As though noting his smile, Carla scoffed while taking off her skirt. "You like that don’t you, worthless pig."
At the sound of her voice, Mr. Valen looked up slowly, his gaze locking onto her toned and curvy legs trailing to the black lace panties she wore.
He then caught sight of her, that perverted look replacing her mask of professional concern.
She bore the gaze of a predator, and as he gazed upon her, he felt a feeling he could not describe.
But all that was irrelevant, as she drew near, "Now, take your clothes off. Perhaps if you perform adequately, I’ll reconsider your... collegiate prospects," she said.