Dr. ChronosMature

The officer returned with the psychiatrist a few minutes later.  Simon did not recognize her at first—not as she was, garbed in an ill-fitting grey pantsuit and sunglasses, and sporting straight-cut bangs and a ponytail.  She sat down across the table from him, where the policeman had been earlier, and plunked her clipboard on the metal surface.  Simon flinched at the noise.

                “Good evening, Simon,” she greeted him pleasantly.  “My name is Dr. Mary Chronos, and I’ll be evaluating you today.  May I ask you a few questions?”

                “I’m not stopping you.”

                She paused a moment, her pale features tightening, but Simon couldn’t read her face.  The sunglasses were in the way.  “Of course.  Well, then.  What brings you to New York, Simon?”

                “Mistaken address.  I was meant to end up in York, but something got lost in translation.  Interfering thoughts, I suppose.”

                “Oh?  How so?”

                “Well, I’m dreaming this, aren’t I?”

                “Are you?”

                “I should hope so.  Else I’m in a considerable pickle.”

                She scribbled something down on her clipboard and looked up at him once more.  Or at least it seemed she looked at him.  Those damned sunglasses.  “Have you ever been prescribed medication for a mental condition, Simon?”

                He shook his head.

                “Ever taken hallucinogenic drugs?”

                “Not to my knowledge.”

                “He’s had his blud tested,” the officer grunted from the corner.  “He’s clean.”

                Dr. Chronos acknowledged this with a nod of her head before turning back to Simon.  “Do you ever hear voices, Simon?”

                “Well, of course,” he replied sarcastically.  “I hear your voice, and mine.”

                “I think you know what I mean.”

                “No.”

                She wrote again on the paper, the black ball-point pen racing along the provided lines.   “You said you believe you are dreaming?”

                “I did.”

                “Supposing that you are correct, where would you be sleeping?”

                He was taken aback at the question.  What good would that do her?  “In the infirmary.  At the Castle Carviliet.”

                Dr. Chronos ignored the officer’s derisive snort.  “Would there be anyone with you?”

                He thought about it.  “My brother, Henry.  And Fiona.  And I think Alasdair and Mialina are there too, but some ways away.”

                “Anyone else?”

                He shook his head once more.  “Seymour and Seoc were there, but they’re gone now.”

                “Where did they go?” she asked, her voice soft and interested.

                “I don’t know.”

                She smiled then, her ruby lips parting to expose her glistening fangs.  “Then I suppose you need to find them, don’t you, Simon?  Yesss,” she hissed.  “Find them.”

The End

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