A psychiatrist seeks out an unorthodox solution to help a client with a triggering traumatic history.
Genre: Psychological horror / Supernatural
Content warning: Psychological manipulation, body horror, death of narrator
Written by Lauren C. Teffeau
https://www.laurencteffeau.com
Performed by Ann Sonneville
Created, produced, directed, sound designed by Jeff Schmidt
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[00:00:00] [SPEAKER_00] Listen up, thrillers. A quick note. Tonight's Devious Audio Delight contains adult content and language. Please see the content warnings in the show notes.
[00:00:24] [SPEAKER_00] We sit, you and I, as we always do every week in my drab little office in a respectable part of town. We're past the initial pleasantries and my baseline assessment, ready to start the session proper. And yet, I find myself hesitating. You notice, offense and hurt all wrapped together. And I hold up my hands like a penitent.
[00:00:50] [SPEAKER_00] I'm finding it difficult to maintain the necessary distance during our sessions. Your tragic history. I shake my head at my inadequate words. When I think of the push-pull of our wide-ranging discussions, it feels like we're only treading water sometimes, instead of the deep dive into the psyche we both need. Me to do my job. You to plumb the depths of all that still haunts you.
[00:01:19] [SPEAKER_00] But our lack of progress is my own fault. I'm not strong enough to share in the full extent of your burdens. I never turned my back on my professional obligations, but I'm already bracing myself for what's to come out of your mouth. As if I can make myself smaller, unnoticeable, overwhelmed before we even begin. I feel it would be best if you found someone else. Someone who'll- Your eyes widen with heart-breaking alarm.
[00:01:50] [SPEAKER_00] How can you say that? You're the first person who's made me believe I'm not hysterical for having all these impossible feelings. At some cost to myself, though. I've always believed we must be the cliff face. Exposed to the elements. All the ravages nature can throw at us, yet remain untouched by what we hear in each session.
[00:02:15] [SPEAKER_00] That's the best way my colleagues and I can help our patients. By being neutral in our judgment. Keeping sympathy from teetering into the ethical morass of empathy. We absorb your words, but give you nothing of ourselves to latch onto. For your own good. And ours. And yet, with you in my office every week, I cannot be the gray rock.
[00:02:44] [SPEAKER_00] Devoid of any facet you can pry into, exploiting the fissures that lead to my very soul. But when you look at me, your wounded soul pooling there in your gaze. I'm swamped at my selfishness for placing my own comfort above the possibility of true healing. You reach for me. A short abortive gesture. Your hand coming to rest on the seat cushion between us.
[00:03:12] [SPEAKER_00] Smooth, tapered fingers twitching in uncertainty. I assure you, our conversations have helped me dramatically. To start over again with someone else, I... Your other hand goes to your heart. Still beating steadily despite everything you faced. This time together means so much. I couldn't bear it if we... You cut such foul words off.
[00:03:42] [SPEAKER_00] Tears glistening in the corners of your eyes. I curse inwardly for causing you any more undue pain. I already determined any interruption of your treatment would have an adverse reaction on your progress. Now, my own doubts are aggravating the situation. You're certain you wish to continue. Your swift nod absolves me of any more misgivings. I'll find some way to be worthy of the trust you've placed in me.
[00:04:12] [SPEAKER_00] How can I say otherwise? Very well then. Same time next week? Your smile, brittle with relief... Is a promise. I made a promise too once. To do no harm. That's what brings me to this shop of curios in a seedy neighborhood when I have nowhere else to turn.
[00:04:43] [SPEAKER_00] But I'm doing this for you, I tell myself as I enter. Camphor and incense and dusty, cluttered shelves fill my nose, making my eyes water. Better than the smoky damp of the streets. Girding myself, I press forward into the cramped space. The clerk, a smartly groomed man, eyes me as I make my way past two rows of oddities. I try not to examine them too closely.
[00:05:12] [SPEAKER_00] How may I help you? I had hoped to find... It sounds so ridiculous out loud. I'm a professional with a decade's worth of experience sorting through people's problems. But you... Nothing prepared me for you. I was told you carry something that would help me manage my emotions. His gaze skates over me with a light, curious touch. Occupation? Doctor?
[00:05:42] [SPEAKER_00] Huh. Something to steady the hands during surgery, eh? I laugh nervously. No. No. Not that kind of doctoring. Psychiatry. I brace myself for the sneering condescension my young field garners. Assumed to be full of quacks who bilk desperate fools and sell poisonous tonics as curatives. It doesn't come. Huh. To settle the mine then. Hmm.
[00:06:13] [SPEAKER_00] He turns his back to the register and unlocks the cabinet behind him. Let's see... A trill of anticipation rolls through me as the clerk finally brings forth the object that will help me. Help us. Continue on. You need so much of me and I cannot say no. Not when I'm so certain I can help you. I want to. I want to desperately. You deserve so much more than what you've been given in life.
[00:06:43] [SPEAKER_00] But instead of forcing you to start over with someone new, some stranger, I hope I found a way to keep you like you requested. Holding my breath, I watch as the clerk opens the small box with a flourish. It's just a rock. Lumpy and gray. Featureless and seemingly undeserving of its silk-lined box and exorbitant price tag.
[00:07:11] [SPEAKER_00] Carry it on your person and it will aid you in your sessions. Like an over-large worry stone? A recent study praised their advocacy for treating high-strung nervous individuals, a technique dating back to the Greeks. But after all my discreet inquiries to find a shop such as this, I confess I was hoping for something more. If it helps to think of it that way. If I hold it in my fist, my fingers barely close around it. Not really practical for anything.
[00:07:41] [SPEAKER_00] More like a paperweight. The clerk fusses with the hand-lettered, All Sales Final sign in front of the register. If it's bad enough you're here. Do the details really matter? You tell me everything, it seems. A flood of words and impressions and emotions, always those.
[00:08:09] [SPEAKER_00] That tears through me like a riptide until I'm fouled by the same murk you seek to rid yourself of. The gray rocks my anchor in those moments as I wade through the miasma of your personal journey into healing. I vow not to stand in your way. With each clench of the rock in my hand, I imagine myself smaller. Slider. Hardly daring to breathe lest I interrupt your transformation. I hunch my shoulders.
[00:08:39] [SPEAKER_00] Keep my legs tightly crossed. My arms wrapped around myself so nothing escapes. I curl into the settee, sink into the floor and disappear if I could. Some sessions it feels like we can't both possibly fit in here together. All your secrets spilling forth and displacing the air in the room. I tell myself I don't need air. I am the rock I hold in my hand.
[00:09:08] [SPEAKER_00] Gray and featureless. And no matter how much pressure I exert, it remains untouched. Undeniably itself. And it's working. Even when it started out tucked away in my pocket, I'm better able to muster up sensitive responses to your painful disclosures and offer suggestions for recasting the trauma into something lighter. More manageable. As you go about the rest of your week.
[00:09:33] [SPEAKER_00] My fingers may be numb at the end of each session, but my palm is warm against the rock that's my salvation. And yours. I'm jealous it can remain unaffected by the goings on around it. Until one day... It isn't any longer. I can't remember a time I didn't want to help people.
[00:10:02] [SPEAKER_00] After the war, I watched our boys come home, broken men. I knew they left more of themselves back at the front, besides their sweat and blood and screams. Even the hardest heart would be spurred to action. The stubborn suffering they had sublimated down into the deepest parts of themselves was challenging to unpack. I liked to think I did my part to help them return to civilian life. Private practice followed,
[00:10:32] [SPEAKER_00] and I gained a reputation for my results. By the time you walked into my office with your... fragile poise and fraught history, I was already an accomplished listener. An expert at identifying the roots of any issue, thanks to my studies in psychoanalysis and the topography of the human mind. But you were different. I realized I couldn't feign professional indifference if your treatment didn't take.
[00:11:00] [SPEAKER_00] That was the moment you looked at me for the first time, instead of gazing over my shoulder. Our souls touched that day. Despite the as-yet unspoken horrors in your eyes or your off-putting manner, the only reliable armor you had access to at the time. I could see you in there, fighting. And I told myself, I would fight just as hard to see this through.
[00:11:28] [SPEAKER_00] Because you'd been shuffled from doctor to doctor, I knew you couldn't afford another change, even though we had so much distrust to work through. But I think I've proven myself worthy of the deepest, darkest parts of you. I never expected to drown. Like a pill bug unfurling, the rock stops being rock-like and scuttles up my forearm.
[00:11:59] [SPEAKER_00] It burrows there like some sort of exotic beetle. The kind I saw every time I visited my professor's office. Pinned under glass and hung on the wall. I should be disgusted. I remember what that feels like. But it's distant. Like looking at something through fogged up windows on a rainy day. I try to pry it off, but it's rooted against me. So strange and unexpected.
[00:12:29] [SPEAKER_00] I dare not pick at it like some newly formed scab that I'm half appalled, half impressed my body made. But you'll be here soon, and I pull my sleeve down to hide it from view. Thankfully, I'm wearing black these days. One of the better colors for blending into the background. No distractions. Not for you. As soon as you start talking, the familiar anxiety your words always conjure takes over.
[00:13:00] [SPEAKER_00] A dead feeling in my stomach, followed by a queasy fluttering in my chest. My hand reflexively clenches air. But then warmth spreads up my forearm like sunlight. My knot rock anchoring me to this room. Despite the horrors you share as casually as what you ate for dinner last night. And so we go on, you and I.
[00:13:26] [SPEAKER_00] Exploring such dangerous territory to rid you of the burdens you carry. Always. When I wake weeks later. My rock's simply gone. There's a pale, slightly depressed mark on my forearm where it once rested against me. Revulsion at the loss and what it means for us rises up on wings of panic.
[00:13:55] [SPEAKER_00] But the stress and fear are replaced by a new warmth radiating from my neck. Some time in the night, the rock crept up my arm to nestle at the juncture of my neck and left shoulder. Like an off-center goiter. I select a shirt with a high collar so no one will see. Not even you. The rock's larger. Warm like my skin.
[00:14:22] [SPEAKER_00] Like the sunlight it pumps through my veins whenever you're nearby. It absorbs all the darkness you bring into our sessions. Surely you feel it. It's why you keep coming back. Not for me, exactly. Nor the healing course we're charting together. But for the rock that absorbs what I cannot. And you have so much inside you.
[00:14:51] [SPEAKER_00] No wonder it grows fat taking it all in. My head bows at the weight of everything. But we're making this journey together. What's a little discomfort? You look... different. I prickle all over at the thought of me disrupting our progress. No distractions, isn't that what I promised? No insertions of myself into your narrative. I am the rock in the background. Lending you my strength and resiliency. But nothing more of myself.
[00:15:22] [SPEAKER_00] I'm certain of it. Whatever's wrong. Another time, I would be thrilled you're capable of acknowledging someone else. Progress. That you can look past your own immediate concerns to the world around you no matter how many times it's turned its back on you. But I can only manage a pained gasp. The rocks moved again. Lodged into my skin like a second spine. It trails down from my neck to my sacrum.
[00:15:51] [SPEAKER_00] Now with grey-black appendages that embrace my ribs. They squeeze like an ancient back brace that can cut if I move the wrong way. I'm careful. So very careful. I stay still. And small. And unworthy of attention. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. I inwardly curse the catch in my voice.
[00:16:19] [SPEAKER_00] My outsized jacket covers everything I made sure of it. But you insist. Pointing out my drab clothes of late. Must hair. The bags under my eyes. It distracts from all the good work we're doing in this room. That I didn't notice. I accidentally upset the delicate dance we do each week. It's nearly unforgivable. I'm terribly sorry. I'll endeavor to do better next time. You nod. Doubtful.
[00:16:50] [SPEAKER_00] Then... I feel the moment you dismiss it and move on to more important things. With the corresponding quickening of The Rock and its eagerness for your pain. But that's scaffolding enough for me to endure the rest of the session and see you on your way. Confident of the progress we're making. Because we are, yes? You'd tell me if we weren't. You need this outlet as surely as I do. We live for these meetings, The Rock and I.
[00:17:21] [SPEAKER_00] And you do too. You cannot hold all those evils you carry inside by yourself. I take extra care with myself this time. No matter The Rock's impatience to see you. The pinchers squeezing around my ribs. Spines digging into flesh. I'm not enough for it. No matter how much time I spend reviewing our sessions and planning the next.
[00:17:50] [SPEAKER_00] As if by dredging up all that old feeling could ever keep it satisfied. I've cut out other patients to give our sessions greater priority. Did you know that? But it's not enough. It's never enough. And I no longer know how to be myself. I'm a shadow in my own life. And there's still too much of me in this arrangement we've created, you and I.
[00:18:20] [SPEAKER_00] But today, I vow. There's only you. When you walk through the door. I know I've done well as your eyes pass over me unseeing. There's nothing to distract your focus on our work today. Even with the slight hunch on my back.
[00:18:46] [SPEAKER_00] We take our customary seats on the settee and start with the usual pleasantries. Even now. Knowing you're here. The Rock's impatient with me as I keep to the pattern. The baseline questions that help me evaluate your mental state each visit. Then it's your turn. And you never disappoint as you share the darkness inside you.
[00:19:14] [SPEAKER_00] Rich and malignant and seemingly bottomless. Instead of horror and shame, I feel lit from within. Sunlight. No. Ready to burn me up from the inside. And it will one day. The Rock told me so. But you're here. Still so full of tragedy.
[00:19:44] [SPEAKER_00] And it's hungry. So hungry. With a snap and a hiss, the Rock dislodges from my spine, vertebrae by vertebrae. You take my arms. What's wrong? You seem scared now for someone other than yourself. Once my heart would have warmed at that. But it's too late. Too late for all of us.
[00:20:13] [SPEAKER_00] You came to me, raw with distrust. Desperate for anyone who'd listen without judgment to the terrors you'd endured. I thought I was ready to help you sort through all the evil bits. And set the truly awful ones aside. So you could move on and be more. I wanted to be that person for you.
[00:20:42] [SPEAKER_00] You understand that, don't you? I did everything I could. I did everything I could. And when I no longer couldn't, I took the steps necessary to make things right. And things are finally right now. Can you feel it? If not, you will. Good God! What is that? The fear in your voice is intoxicating.
[00:21:12] [SPEAKER_00] A siren's call to the gray rock. But it already knows you so well. How you always breeze in the moment when something horrible is about to happen. Despite all our sessions, I could never cure you of that. So as the rock detaches itself from me, you sit there as though made out of stone.
[00:21:39] [SPEAKER_00] An offering far more attractive to it than a used up vessel like me. And bright as sunlight and the warm wetness trickling down my spine, I can feel its exaltation, its hunger, as it drapes itself over your shoulders and sends its appendages scuttling down the back of your shirt before settling against you more intimately than any of your lovers.
[00:22:12] [SPEAKER_00] I know how desperately you've craved such closeness that doesn't come with a cost. But this one, I think you can bear. Yes, one that you're made for. The tears in your eyes tell me so, before they roll back in a pleasure that teeters deliriously
[00:22:32] [SPEAKER_00] on the edge of parted so much territory in our sessions. You lurch to your feet like a marionette, arms outspread to welcome the relief that comes from knowing you are no longer alone in the darkness. Don't you see?
[00:23:01] [SPEAKER_00] This is the best gift I could give you to commemorate our success together. The gray rock that made it all possible. But wait. Where are you going? I thought...
[00:23:16] Fine.
[00:23:18] [SPEAKER_00] Go in your terrible, heartbreaking suffering. And let the rock be your support in all the future holds for you. And you do. With only the barest hint of a backwards glance at my drab little office in a respectable part of town. No word of thanks or whispered concern. You don't even say goodbye.
[00:23:46] [SPEAKER_00] I tell myself you mean no offense. You simply don't need me anymore. Not when you can fly. You've been searching for respite from the awfulness inside you so long. Nothing else can compete with what you're feeling now. I know. I know. Even if I only felt a fraction of it. But as my lifeblood soaks into the settee,
[00:24:16] [SPEAKER_00] I know how little that matters now, too. Cast aside. A drift. A bird from the cliff face I've clung to for so long. I'm but an ashen husk with nothing left to give. Not even for myself.
[00:24:54] [SPEAKER_01] Written by Lauren C. Tafoe. Performed by Anne Sonneville. You've been listening to Ominous Thrill, Her Horrorween. It's created, produced, directed, and sound designed by myself, Jeff Schmidt. If this is your first Ominous Thrill episode, please look back in the feed to find other stories you might enjoy. There's plenty of devious audio delights to choose from.
[00:25:17] [SPEAKER_01] The best way to help support making more Ominous Thrill is to subscribe to the ad-free feed, The Red Room, on Patreon and Apple Podcasts. Find links in the show notes. It's greatly appreciated. Next best is to share this story with everyone you think might enjoy it. Help spread the word. Use the share icon in your listening app of choice. And the easiest way is to leave a five-star rating and a positive review. It doesn't do much for the algorithms, but it helps other listeners decide if they'll listen.
[00:25:46] [SPEAKER_01] Thank you. This has been Ominous Thrill, Her Horrorween. And until next time, thrill you later. The Fable and Folly Network, where fiction producers flourish.
