Blood Cursed Read online

Big white letters letting the world know who I am. It gave me a small thrill each day. ‘Hannah Dorian, Psychologist’ stared at me from my front office window. I love seeing my name on the window. I have worked hard to get my own private practice going and feel pride every time I drive into my VIP parking spot.

  As I waited for Rebecca to make her way into the building, I began to feel a growling in my belly. Dinnertime, my stomach announced. Since she was my last appointment, I quickly called my favorite Chinese restaurant to order some spicy shrimp and fried rice for pickup in one hour.

  The front office door opened and shut.

  “Come on back Rebecca.” I called wondering how she had held up this past week with all the excitement about the killer.

  Rebecca walked into my office with a big smile. She didn’t look anything like last week, she was covered in fresh bruises and open wounds. She looked so horrific my stomach turned.

  She wore a sundress tied behind her neck, her arms and back exposed. Her skin was healed, the wounds gone. The horrible tears in her flesh were gone and no scars were visible. It seemed as if someone had dipped her in vat of new skin.

  Impossible, I thought scrunching my eyebrows together. “Hi Rebecca, come on in and have a seat.” I said.

  Sitting across from her, I couldn’t keep myself from staring.

  “You look well,” I stood and shut the door. The word ‘magic’ popped into my mind. Forcing it out again, ‘think rationally,’ I ordered myself. There must be a reasonable explanation for her impossibly fast recovery.

  “Yes,” she answered. I sensed a level of concern and worry in her voice, which had been there last week. She still suffered emotionally even though she looked amazing.

  “You seem to have healed faster than…anything I’ve ever seen before?” I questioned, more confused.

  “Yeah, I’m also surprised. I was a mess when I saw you last week. After I left you, I headed straight home and went to bed. I more nightmares about being a wolf and killing animals like raccoons and wild hogs. I heard another wolf howling and I ran away. I also dreamt about other wolves and how they interact. One alpha wolf led the other in their hunting. I woke the next morning feeling refreshed and my wounds were all healed. I couldn’t believe it. Maybe I wasn’t as badly hurt as I originally thought. It must have been just a lot of blood and surface scrapes.” She explained with an even tone of voice and a calmness absent last week.

  “This might sound crazy,” she paused while watching my expressions, “I know I turned into a wolf those two nights. I was attacked by a werewolf and now I am one.”

  I paused before responding. I really wasn’t sure what to say.

  “So, you’re telling me your horrific wounds and bruises healed over the course of two days and two nights because you dreamt you turned into a wolf?” My mind raced for a rational answer to this irrational situation. “And now you’re a werewolf?” My voice jumped up an octave.

  “Yup, weird huh?” She said.

  She completely accepted her delusion. Most people I treated were at odds with their delusions and constantly anxious and afraid. This was so out of the norm from a psychological perspective. And what about her completely healed skin? It should have taken a month at least and that’s being generous.

  “Yeah weird.” I paused to think. “Rebecca, it’s impossible for you to be a werewolf. For one thing werewolf’s do not exist outside of fantasy novels, Hollywood, and stories.”

  “I’m sure there is a reasonable explanation for your fast healing.” I got up and went over to my computer. “Let’s see if there are any similar cases out there.” I typed for a few minutes and came up with several explanations.

  My dream of Rebecca as a wolf surfaced. I quickly pushed it away. A dream held no power. Dreams were only the subconscious trying to process emotions using images from our day-to-day lives. My brain selected Rebecca and her wolf delusion because I cared about what happened to her. It held no bearing on her treatment.

  While I was jarred by Rebecca’s delusion, I was bound and determined to find a reasonable explanation. I struggled with the part of me that wanted to believe her story. The trained therapist part kept butting in and telling me it was impossible and irrational. She was delusional and it was my job to help ease her back into reality.

  “Ok, according to this site, there are two possible explanations. Your metabolism expedites healing at an advanced rate or you meditated to refocus your bodily energy toward healing. This would be similar to a yogi who slows their breathing so it is undetectable.” I felt better already, that meditation thing seemed the most probable answer.

  “I don’t remember doing any of those things,” Rebecca answered with a slight tone of annoyance. “I never meditated in my life.”

  I was on a role. I ignored her and kept talking.

  “Well based on the description of your dreams, your body naturally went into a meditative state and healed itself. Many times after traumatic events, our minds and bodies compensate in order to necessary to survive, taking over to cope and heal. Our bodies can do some extraordinary things when put under enormous amounts of stress.”

  That explanation sounded believable even to me. I was not going to let myself be led into one of my client’s delusions. The entire episode involving werewolves and exhibiting supernatural powers of healing were all part of her delusion. Rebecca’s reality no longer existed. Her mind created the delusions to help protect her from the horrible trauma she experienced. I felt the pull of her delusion since I desperately wanted to help. Counter transference. I should talk to another therapist to put my feelings in perspective. I became overly involved in Rebecca’s care, I need to put the responsibility back onto Rebecca. I could guide her, but not be in the drivers’ seat.

  What was I so connected to her? That’s the question plaguing my thoughts. ‘Focus Hannah.’ I told myself. ‘Get back to therapist mode!’

  I decided to explore more of her delusion by playing along. I wanted to infiltrate her reasoning structure and help bring her back to reality. ‘Good plan Hannah,’ I inwardly rewarded myself. Still struggling, I took a big breath.

  “Rebecca, please tell me more about being a werewolf,” I suggested.

  She studied me for a moment while deciding whether to trust me with her story. I quietly waited for her to speak. Sometimes it’s necessary to wait out a patient’s silence and sometimes they need a nudge. After five minutes, I decided a nudge was in order. To be honest, I couldn’t sit still another second. I was so unnerved.

  “I may not understand everything you tell me, but I promise to listen and help you make sense of it,” I shifted in my chair.

  That seemed enough to get her started. She pulled herself up from her current slouching position on the sofa. “I start the night as a human. I got to sleep in my bed and then it happens. I’m pulled by the moons power. I go outside and when the moons rays shine on me, I change into a wolf. It happens quickly and painfully. But the second time was less painful. After the change, I still think as human, but I have wolf senses. For example, my sense of smell and sight are magnified. I can see really well in the dark. I have an intense hunger needing to be fed. Each night I hunt and kill an animal. I hear them move in the distance. I track them. The first night I killed a raccoon. The next night a wild hog. They tasted amazing. Fresh blood pouring down my throat. As I devoured the meat the warm flesh was almost too much. The only human comparison is sex. The urge knows no bounds, even the smell of humans sparks my hunger.”

  She paused and I realized my mouth hung open in disbelief. This was the most detailed delusion I had ever heard. I decided to allow myself to go along for the journey. I shut my mouth. Rebecca continued with more excitement and voracity.

  “Running free in wolf form, I never tire. I ran for hours. The next morning, I felt refreshed and energized. I haven’t felt this healthy in well, ever. I’m stronger physically and I’m happier. I still feel afraid sometimes and I’m still experiencing flashbacks, but it doesn�
��t last as long. I’m getting better at controlling the anxiety and terror. I now see my attack as a blessing. I’m no longer consumed with worries and fears. If the pain of the attack and a few nights a month as a werewolf are the price I pay for trading my fearful meek self for this new confident person, well I accept it all.”

  “So, you’ve accepted that you’re a werewolf?”

  She nodded.

  “Let’s assume becoming a werewolf, a powerful supernatural creature, is a metaphor for your true self. If that statement is true, then you’ve utilized the attack as a transition to the person you wished to be. Many times after a run-in with death, people decide to be their authentic self. They allow their true nature to show. Life is too short to live in fear. So, we express what we had been suppressing.”

  Losing her excitement, Rebecca slouched into the sofa.

  “Did I say something to upset you?” I crossed my legs and leaned my elbow on the armrest of my chair.

  “No, you didn’t upset me and I understand what you are saying, but I don’t think you’re getting it. I actually turn into a wolf. Not metaphorically, not symbolically, but physically. And my wounds and cuts healed because I’m a supernatural creature, not because of some meditation yogi thingy. I turn into a wolf, plain and simple.” She let out an exasperated breath and I felt a tremor of electric energy flow over me.

  “You saw. You were with me the other night.” Her eyes stared accusingly.

  “I, I, I…I had a dream that you were a wolf, but it was a dream!” My mind raced. How can she know about my dream? This wasn’t computing. None of it made sense. Was I really being pulled into her delusion? A true Folie-a-deux, shared psychotic disorder.

  Fun to say, but not fun to experience. I thought briefly.

  She was crazy and she was making me crazy. I shuttered. Could my psyche be so weak?

  “Rebecca, I think maybe I’m unable to help you. It seems in my efforts, I’ve become too close. I fear I’ve allowed myself to get personally attached and pulled into your delusion. That’s what this is, a delusion.” I declared a bit too loudly.

  “People do not turn into werewolves. That is a story to scare people at Halloween. They do not exist.” I realized I was pacing across my office. I spoke too quickly, working myself into a frenzy of fear and anxiety.

  Rebecca walked over and gently placed her hand on my arm. I immediately calmed feeling a surge of power. Just like in my dream, but this was really happening. I wanted to scream and run, but my body relaxed. I unwillingly allowed Rebecca to guide me to my chair. She whispered into my ear, “you’re not going crazy, but you are also changing. I can feel it. It’s close and will be here soon. It’s something to embrace, not fear.”

  She stroked my hair, continuing to sooth me. My mind grew tired and my eyes threatened to close with sleep.

  “There,” she said standing over me, “I can feel the power coming to you. It’s very strong. I only told you the truth because you’ll soon be like me, but more powerful.” She walked over to my calendar and wrote her name in it. “I made appointment for next week. You helped me and I will never forget. For you will need me soon and I will be yours,” she spoke cryptically.

  I found myself staring blankly at Rebecca. The last few minutes erased from my mind. Facing the window, she watched the setting sun. The sky grew darker as storm clouds developed in the distance. Rebecca sat gently on the sofa while smoothing her dress around her.

  I couldn’t remember what I had last said. I must have been daydreaming and missed part of the session.

  I sat quietly trying to remember where we had left off. It was terribly rude and unprofessional to daze off during a session, but it had been a tough week. I hoped Rebecca would forgive me. I felt compelled to say something.

  “I apologize Rebecca, but for some reason my mind had gone blank and I can’t remember what you just said.”

  She smiled at me, paused, then said, “you just said I’ve begun to express the part of my personality I have been suppressing due to old fears.”

  “Oh, right, sorry, it sounds to me you’re already healing emotionally, almost as quickly as your physical healing. Just because I never witnessed such quick healing doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist. Just look at you. Your new outlook on life and the freedoms you are finding are wonderful. Experiencing such a traumatic event gave you a push toward an overall shift in your world view. I do question whether you were already heading in that direction and the attack speed things up, but I guess it’s really not relevant at this time. I do warn you to be cautious. Timewise, you’re still fresh from the attack. Such a major change in your life may influence other major changes. What you will need is familiarity and consistency in your life. Let’s discuss the pros and cons of any major decisions you’re currently contemplating.”

  Rebecca laughed, “Well, it’s a little too late. I quit my job yesterday. I worked at the local grocery and my manager kept hounding me about being late. He even gave me grief for missing a few days after my attack. The old me was so meek and afraid I would take his verbal assaults.” She smiled.

  “But yesterday he insulted me and I walked right up to him. Looked him squarely in the eye and told him if he ever spoke to me in that manner again it would be the last time. Calm and confident, I didn’t back down. I held his gaze until he looked away. He backed down and actually looked frightened for a moment,” she laughed again. “Then I said, ‘I quit’ and I walked out of there. I felt so good that I found myself singing ‘Take this job and shove it’ as I strolled to my car.”

  “What do you think frightened him?” I asked.

  “Well, I stared into his eyes, I could feel his adrenaline surge when he verbally attacked me. I could smell his blood and I began to think about how good it would feel to jump on top of him and rip out his throat. How good his blood would taste in my mouth? At that moment, I noticed him shrinking away in fear.”

  She smiled as she told the story.

  With a small frown, she added she would run out of money in two weeks and probably evicted in thirty days if she didn’t get a new job. But she wasn’t motivated to find another ‘crappy’ job.

  I knew from my training that fantasizing about hurting someone was a healthy outlet, provided she didn’t actually hurt someone. I believed she wasn’t dangerous since her story demonstrated her thoughts and not her actions. People are entitled to fantasize about killing their boss, not uncommon. Rebecca had much more detail to her fantasy, but it remained consistent with her delusion. I decided she wasn’t dangerous, at least not now.

  I sensed something like this would have severely upset her in the past.

  “I believe the new Rebecca, the one who stands up for herself, is making herself known and refuses to be treated badly. It’s healthy to stand up for yourself and fantasizing about hurting your boss is completely normal, as long as you don’t act on those fantasies.” I added.

  “Oh, I know,” she smiled. “I guess I need to come up with a plan to find a new job and place to live, huh?” Rebecca said calmly with a smile on her face. More evidence to back my yogi healing theory.

  We spent the rest of the session talking about her job skills. Throwing around possible ideas for jobs she would feel happy about. I saw in my calendar she was already scheduled for her next appointment for next Friday. I didn’t remember putting her in the book, but I must have scheduled her a few weeks in advance.

  She gave me a hug, thanked me for all my help and skipped out the door. Yeah, she skipped.

  I stood at my office door thinking how all my experience over the past years had not prepared me for Rebecca.

  Chapter 7

  That night I dreamt of wolves and witches.

  A man dressed in wolf skins of varying colors seemed familiar yet strange. His clothes stitched together from the pelts of many animals. He was tall with long black hair and a full black beard. He was young, early twenties and well-muscled from much hard labor. He walked through the woods carrying his latest kill
, a large black wolf. The wolf dangled over his shoulder, blood dripping from a stab wound in its side. The animal hung limply as if ready to wake at any moment. I realized the wolf was still warm, yet to grow cold from death.

  The woods were dark as the sun set quickly as it does in winter. The man hurried to get home before the night enveloped him. It had the feel of late winter, snow still on the ground, but the air warmed foreshadowing an early spring. I instinctively knew it was several hundred years ago. I simultaneously watched the past, present and future.

  I followed him as he walked through the woods. I struggled to keep up for his pace was quick and sure. The cold night air chilled my skin. I wore my light pajama pants and tank top that I often slept in. Being barefoot, l the snow crunched under my feet with each step. I was immune to the cold. I stepped on a fallen branch which cracked loudly. I froze, fearing the man would hear my steps, but he didn’t turn and I continued to follow him. Deciding to pick up my pace, I knew I was meant to see something and he was meant to show me.

  The man made his way toward a cabin deep in the woods. Nothing more than a primitive lean-to, clay walls were embedded with pine branches for strength. Thatched branches topped the structure. A circle of rocks containing charred logs lie in front of the cabin.

  The man dropped his kill onto a stand made of thinner branches woven together. The stand wobbled beneath the weight of the animal and steadied. Blood stained the snow under the stand where cleaned so many other kills.

  I stayed far enough away to feel safe while I spied on him. He walked into the simple cabin to return his weapons and get his tools. He kneeled and placed his hand upon a small bundle of fur that held something the man revered. He sat for several minutes as if in prayer before opening the bundle. He retrieved several small carvings of animals. They were small enough for a child to play with and I understood the man had lost someone he loved.

  I instinctively knew he lost his wife and child to a pack of hungry wolves. The winter had been long and food was scarce. His family had been digging for roots for dinner while he checked his traps nearby. A pack of thin hungry wolves came upon his wife and child and killed them. The man heard the screams as he ran to save his family, but to no avail. He scared off the animals, but he was too late to save his family.