"Hello, Doc." The man closed the door after himself. His voice was slightly nasal.
He wore a rather worn out suit. Not extremely formal or excessively worn, but more of a middle ground for each. Easily affordable and well used, if you will. He had blonde hair at a medium length above his flushed face. As a whole he looked rather disheveled. That wasn't unexpected, if anything, in my line of work I was used to it.
"Ah, Mr. Ackerman, I was beginning to wonder if you would come at all. Take a seat"
He walked to the couch facing me. He walked slowly and carefully before lowering himself down as if onto a bed of nails. He glanced over his shoulder once in those five steps from the door to where he was now, with an additional one as soon as he sat. He meticulously looked at every object as if searching each one for any possibility of danger. My desk, PhD's, and the two dark green armchairs one of which I was sitting in. They say the color tended to relax people, and God knows in my profession that was needed.
"No need to worry, we're alone." I said calmly "Now what can I do for you, what would you like to discuss?"
Ackerman had eyes like a rodent. They were small and never seemed to rest on anything for any amount of time. He seemed to be eternally on the lookout for something but didn't know what. He was slightly hunched and seemed ready to bolt. When I asked the first question his eyes rested on me for barely two seconds before beginning to roam around the room.
"I've got a problem Doc, but I guess you already know that. That's why I'm here." He didn't make eye contact when speaking.
I made a notation in my notebook, Excessive paranoia. Possible OCD
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"I'm afraid Doc. I'm also afraid of telling you. You see, you'll just think I'm crazy. You'll have me locked up!" His eyes grew wider and his voice more insistent as he continued.
"Whatever goes on in this room is between us, I'm here to help you, not lock you up." I didn't mention where some of my more...serious...patients have ended up.
"Something bad is going to happen"
I raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to go on.
"Something very, very, bad. And I know what It is going to do."
"It?" I enquired.
"Oh yes, It." He said, eyes going wide. "It knows I know, I know it. And that's why it's after me" He stated the last part matter-of-factly as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.
"Alright" I said as I made another scribble on my sheet. "So what do you think is going to happen?"
He smiled like a small child with a secret but the look in his eyes made the hair on my neck rise. No secret could be that terrible.
"Its all over Doc. The end, the big one, it's coming and It brought it."
I stared at him for a moment. For ten seconds I looked at him. Far too long for a statement I've heard multiple patients say over the years. But something beyond the conviction in his voice was something I could not describe. A feeling that awoke a dark fear in my chest.
Ackerman stood and walked towards the door, stopping before looking back at me still sitting.
"Goodbye, Doc." He turned and walked out of the door, letting it close behind him. Drifting up from a car radio on the street below I could hear Jim Morrison wail: this is the end.