Sinful Obsession

5. 5 – Vienna

5 – Vienna

I t doesn’t.

Pulling into the driveway a few hours later, a town car sitting across from mine with dark-tinted windows terrifies me. I’ve only ever seen them in movies but they always signify the beginning of the end and usually involves doctors and orderlies. The sight of it in my driveway puts me on edge, a growing thrum of dread spreading across my chest.

Asmodeus’ voice is brief and faint in the back of my head, almost as if signifying that this car will be taking me away from him. And yet, as always, his words are comforting, lulling me into a sense of peace.

You’re strong, love. They fear what they don’t understand. There’s a hollow ache as his voice disappears as I decide whether to return or drive off into the sunset. I’m sure my aunt would take me in after hearing all this nonsense. We haven’t spoken in a few years, seeing as she’s the black sheep of the family but she’d rescue me in a heartbeat. I continue to sit in the driver’s seat, pondering my options when I know there’s only one.

There’s a few bucks in my wallet and even less on my credit cards. Running away won’t solve anything. I remind myself that as an adult, my parents could do a whole lot of nothing. They can’t force me to take my pills, visit a doctor, or throw me into a mental institution. I take a deep breath and slowly let it out before slipping from my car to head into the house.

There’s only lies to return to and possibly heartbreak if whoever owns that town car is here to take me away. Mom has threatened me before when I stopped taking the pills the first time. If she can get a doctor to prescribe her a random medication to keep me quiet, why couldn’t she call for a house visit the same way?

The front door is unlocked as I step inside, confused by the dim light of the kitchen. Any excitement and happiness from breakfast is gone, dashed by my revelations. Soft voices drift in from the dining room, a room we almost never use unless there are special guests. I blow out a soft breath, trying to calm my nerves as I approach, the hushed whispers falling away once they realize I’m there.

An older man with silver hair and a clean-cut suit that screams authority sits across from my mother and father, two other women sitting on either side of the older man. The women are dressed in navy blue scrubs, their hands neatly folded in their laps, stoic expressions plastered on their petite faces. There is no emotion in their dull brown eyes as they stare forward, the older gentleman slowly turning to look at me.

“Vienna, I was wondering if you would be joining us,” he says. My entire body rejects his voice and his presence, something about the three of them telling me they’re bad news. Where Asmodeus always felt warm and exciting, these three feel like darkness and evil. His gaze makes my skin crawl as he takes me in before nodding. “Why don’t you have a seat, sweet child?”

Sweet child? He speaks like he comes from the same church my parents attend, spewing words of purity when his aura screams something else entirely. “Nope, I’ll stand. Who are you?” The scowl on my mother’s face tells me that I should be polite but I’m done with the acting. If this is an intervention of sorts, I want to know upfront. When no one speaks, I throw my hands up in exasperation. “Look, can we just get to the part where you explain what’s going on? I don’t want to be placated or sweet talked or anything else.”

My father is suspiciously not looking at me and I’m pretty sure it has to do with the post I put up a little while ago. Maybe if he kept his dick in his pants, we wouldn’t be here.

I glare at the old man and then the table, soon realizing just how serious this meeting is. There’s a slew of papers and pamphlets spread across the table, a thick folder sitting beside my mother. I recognize that folder. She stuffs what she calls ‘evidence’ of my sins in there, telling me that if I don’t shape up that I would one day have to pay for each and every last one. According to their religion, I should be able to pray away the sin or whatever but she holds onto that shit like a grudge.

Why it’s currently on the dining room table and in the vicinity of these three people, I have no fucking clue.

A closer look and I recognize one of the emblems on the pamphlet. Briarwood Institute. “No. Fucking. Way. Seriously? You don’t want to believe me so you’re trying to send me away to prison?” I point at the old crickety building spread across the front of the pamphlets, a building we grew up believing nightmares about.

The old man chuckles, a dark sound devoid of any warmth or emotion. “Vienna, dear, it’s not a prison. It’s a place to help those that are a little… confused. Your parents called to discuss the things you’ve been seeing or rather the things you believe you’ve been seeing.”

I don’t like his choice of words. He says believe like it’s some kind of weakness, something to be corrected. The worst part is that it feels like I would be upsetting the balance of the universe if I acknowledge just who I’ve been seeing to these three. I don’t even know how to explain it but something about them is making me feel sick to my stomach and it has nothing to do with Briarwood Institute.

“I don’t know why she would have called a mental institution for help with her perfectly sane daughter. Maybe it’s a phase. Who knows?” I shrug, trying to play off the issue just as my mother slaps the folder and pushes it forward. I just wave it off. “Mom, sure, I’m a sinner and all that jazz but that doesn’t make me crazy. Legally, you can’t even make me go anywhere. Maybe we should be talking about how you found a doctor to prescribe me pills before ever even meeting me. I looked that shit up and apparently they’re for paranoid schizophrenics. Like what the fuck?”

The older gentleman laughs again, leaning back in his chair. He swivels toward me, the woman beside him scooting back so that I have a full view of him. “There’s a lot to unpack there, Vienna. First thing, we’ll need to work on your language. There’s no reason for all the curse words. Second, your mother explained to me what’s going on and it sounds very serious. You not even remembering your doctor’s name is a problem because memory loss isn’t one of the issues.” He waves me forward, not giving up until I step toward him. The woman stands and moves to the other side of the man so that I can sit. A small orange bottle is pushed toward me, my doctor’s name clearly written along the bottom where it hadn’t been this morning.

My nose scrunches up as I stare at it, wondering why I would have seen something else. I’m not ready to give into whatever is being pushed onto me in this moment so I don’t react. I just sit there.

“Lastly, your parents filed for emergency custody, saying that you were a harm to yourself. In the last few days, she’s been building her case and it’s very concerning all the evidence that the judge brought to us. He granted her custody so that you can be properly taken care of. It’s nice to have a mother that truly cares about you.” The doctor reaches forward to take my hands in his but I’m not that forgiving.

Especially since he just mentioned that I am no longer considered an autonomous adult in the eyes of the law. There’s no doubt in my mind that my mother reached out to Judge Jansen, one of the most influential men in our church. Makes me wonder if she’s doing a little someone on the side like my father is because there’s no other reason for him to grant custody of my life to my mother. I’m not dangerous.

“That’s all bullshit.”

“ Language, ” the doctor says.

I throw my hands, frustrated before glaring at my mother. “How is this even legal?” My mother looks fed up with me but I want her to feel uncomfortable , the same way I am currently feeling at finding out my rights have been taken away. “Please tell me you didn’t sleep with Judge Jansen. Was that what you were doing a few nights ago when–”

She slaps a hand on the table, anger exploding through her expression. “I am doing what I think is right.”

“Even if it means locking me away?”

The doctor sighs, trying to force a warm smile onto his face and failing. “Vienna, I mentioned before that this isn’t a prison. You arent locked away. It’s a way for you to heal, to find help. Do you believe the devil is real, Vienna?” His voice is calm, almost clinical but the way he says it feels unnatural. Like the word in his mouth doesn’t belong. “Or perhaps his son? Do you believe you’re in touch with something… supernatural?”

I’m still pissed at this ‘losing my rights’ bullshit, something the doctor catches onto. He pulls one of the papers from the table and slides it toward me, an official statement signed by Judge Jansen himself. I have no idea what any of it is supposed to look like, just like I’m pretty sure the pills Michael showed me weren’t mine but now say that they are. Aside from running outside and yelling that my parents are locking me away, I have no idea what my next step should be.

It doesn’t help that Michael seems to know far more than I even told my parents. I never mentioned to them that Asmodeus was Satan’s son, not that I can remember anyway. They knew he was a demon and my lover but nothing more. It just gives me another reason not to trust this old man. Asmodeus said that my parents and friends wanted me gone and this is just cinching the idea. My mother shifts in her seat, her gaze flickering to the man as if to gauge his reaction.

Maybe I should play dumb or pretend I don’t know what this man is talking about but I’m tired of denying Asmodeus’ presence. He said that our bond would protect me so I’m going to trust that he knows what he’s talking about. “First, maybe you should have started with introducing yourself by name. Second, Asmodeus is real. I haven’t been in touch with the supernatural. He’s been on Earth, several times. He’s more man that you will ever be!”

The fury on that man’s face gives me a bit of happiness in this moment of despair. Just one more thing I shouldn’t have said but I’ll fantasize about that man’s hands, lips, and cock all day long. I mirror him, leaning back in my chair and fold my arms across my chest.

A smirk of amusement appears on his face but my mother is horrified at our interaction. “Vienna, stop this! Just take your medication. It doesn’t have to be this difficult.”

“ Mom , I would take that medication if I needed it but you have never tried to understand me. Case in point that you brought the folder of my ‘sins’ to the table and gave it to a fucking doctor. What the fuck is he going to do with my sins? All the times I skipped class, talked back to you, lied about where I was? None of that is an indication for a mental illness. I’m no harm to myself or anyone else even if these ‘delusions’ are real to me. Calling the strictest mental institution around to have a go at me is the real insanity here. No, no, fucking Judge Jansen to get him to sign over my rights to you is the kicker. You and Dad are fucking hypocrites.” I push out my chair, ready to take my ass upstairs when the old man speaks again.

He stands, much taller than I expected before he sticks his hand out. “You’re right, Vienna. We should have started differently. I’m Dr. Taeller but you can call me Michael. And we’ll get this language thing under control, I assure you.” I find his name ironic but don’t mention it, shaking his hand and then quickly dropping it. His flesh burns mine, as if there truly is evil running through him. My mother settles but only slightly as Michael speaks again. “Do you believe this… Asmodeus is someone you can see and touch? Or is he simply an idea? Something inside of you?”

Yet another reason I don’t like this fucking guy is the way he said my demon’s name. No one ever says it quite right, stumbling through the name as they try to put the vowels together. Michael said it perfectly. Why would he know something like that?

“This conversation is getting old. I know my mother told you all about everything. Me rehashing it won’t do any good. I get that you’re trying to “help” or whatever,” I say, putting air quotes up when I say ‘help’. “But I don’t need it.”

The two women exchange glances, their expressions calm, unruffled, as if they’ve seen this kind of thing before. One of them rises, her movements slow and careful, and approaches me with a soft, practiced smile. I instantly hate her too.

“Vienna, we’re here to help you,” she says. “The institute is a way for you to find yourself again, a place where you can finally find peace. We’re just here to help you find your way before we can bring you back to the life you enjoy so much.”

“And there it is,” I push out, a bitter laugh following it. “Locking me up isn’t going to do much good, especially if you think I’m seeing a motherfucking demon. What, do you guys perform exorcisms and shit there too?”

Michael shakes his head. “No. An exercised regimen of medication and rules generally helps. Your parents are worried and rightly so. You’re hostile and acting out in a way that they can no longer accept. I’ve seen this before and Briarwood Institute has helped many, many young adults like yourself.”

I glare at the man trying to gaslight me into willingly giving in but it’s not working. I’ve been fighting everyone in my life for the last six months since Asmodeus first arrived. Seeing their reactions to me and hearing what they think behind my backs is reason enough not to fall for Michael’s tricks. I’m already playing with fire so I angle my neck to the side and point to the iridescent mark Asmodeus left last night. “And this? Because he left a beautiful mark on me, claiming me. He’s mine and I’m his.”

For a brief moment, fear flashes through Michael’s expression before he fixes his face. “Vienna, I’m not entirely sure what that is but you need to understand that Asmodeus is no more real than unicorns or anything else. Your mind is creating this darkness to cope but that’s what Briarwood Institute will help you find. We’ll help you let go of these delusions so that you can return to your life before all of this began.”

Delusions. The word hangs in the air like a poison, a surge of anger so strong it nearly blinds me rushing through me. Whatever story my mother has crafted is so strong that no matter what I say, Michael isn’t deterred. In fact, the more information I’ve given him, the more desperate he seems to take me with him.

I reach around in my mind for Asmodeus, that comforting presence always there slipping away like sand through my fingers. A wave of desperation to keep him at my side grows and I sprint for the stairs, my feet pounding against the floor as I race toward my room. My mother’s frantically calling after me, even Michael’s steady voice saying my name in the mix but I don’t stop. I can’t.

“Asmodeus?” I yell into the darkness of my room. My door slams shut behind me as I approach my bed, wringing my hands together. “Please! Just this once. I know you’re busy and you’re—oomph.”

A hard body wraps itself around me as I sink into the familiar embrace. He kisses the top of my head as he carries me to my bed, sitting down first and then pulling me over his lap so I’m straddling his thighs. I cling to him, refusing to look up and see his expression. “Love, I didn’t know they would come. Do not trust them.”

“Why is she being such a bitch? I’m an adult and I should be making my own decisions but I can’t get out of this. I don’t even know how I would!”

He holds me tighter, rocking me side to side as he hums in my ear. “I will always be here. No matter what happens.”

“But I won’t always be here.”

“Love, here is wherever you are. Not your room. It’s just easier to show up in the darkness. Believe me when I say that wherever they’re taking you, I’ll be there too.”

“I felt you slipping away.”

“I’m right here, love. Always .”

I pull away just enough for a kiss, tears streaming down my cheeks at what’s about to happen. I’ve never felt so helpless in my life as he fades away, my body dropping to the floor. A harsh knock sounds on my door and then it swings open, Michael and the women he came with standing at the entrance.

Michael peers inside as if trying to see something but Asmodeus is already gone. Some part of me wants Michael to see the truth. The other part is glad that Asmodeus is only mine. “Are you ready to go, Vienna? Your mother and I discussed that the winter program would be the best fit for you so that you can return to school when the break is over.”

Fighting any longer will only delay the inevitable and unfortunately, I know more about this Briarwood Institute than I’d like. I’ve long studied the place as it sits just at the edge of our cozy little town, a place I was sure my mother would throw me into eventually. I think I was more scared about it months ago but when nothing happened, I felt safe in my own little bubble.

“You won’t need anything,” one of the women says. “Briarwood Institute has everything you’ll need. There’s a few things to get used to but I’m sure you’ll do just fine there.” She waves me over and I do well to stand and follow her, head tucked as if I’m finally submitting to them.

Michael’s smirk widens but I pretend not to notice. Something about my presence at this institute has him excited. All I know is that I fucking hate my parents for doing this to me. Especially my father. He’s just mad I outed him for his affair.

Silence wraps around me as I follow them out the door, refusing to even glance at my parents as I stuff myself in the backseat. The women sit on either side of me, casing me in so that I don’t find the courage to escape while we’re speeding down the road. I’m angry, not stupid. Even so, I curl into myself so that I’m not touching them, head still tucked to give the illusion of submission. As the car pulls out of the driveway, I make eye contact with Michael through the rearview mirror and throw him the middle finger. It does nothing to offset the emptiness I feel, surrounded by strangers and their fake ass smiles radiating an evil I can’t understand.