Prologue

The sound of the drums was almost piercing, but I waited just a few more seconds before instructing the group to stop.

“Wow okay great, we’ve got some angry people in here.” The group chuckled. My heart warmed. It was good to see smiles and hear laughter in this place. “Okay, now I want you to think about this thing that makes you so angry but this time, play as softly and calmly on your drum as you can.” I looked around at the patients as they tapped softly on their drums. Some closed their eyes, some stared at the wall, and one stood away from the group doing nothing at all but staring at me. “Okay, stop. Great.” I looked to the right at the lone patient standing near the wall. “Eddie, are you sure you wouldn’t like a drum?” I tried to smile kindly at the cold-eyed man. In turn he stared right back. Somehow, I felt he was staring straight through my soul. My body shivered, though I forced myself to keep up my positive demeanor.

“Yeah Eddie buddy, come join us! Music group is the most fun you’re going to have in here!” Kyle stated, encouraging his fellow patient. I let out a silent sigh of relief hoping Eddie would be more encouraged by a peer than a therapist. Eddie paused for a moment and never breaking eye contact with me he stated, “Satan doesn’t want you here.” I shivered again. Eddies eyes remained cold and fixated in my soul. I tried to keep calm and remembered my therapist skills. I’ve have patients every day who say weird things, but there was something strange about Eddie. It was his eyes. “Okay, Eddie,” I replied. “If you decide to join us I have some drums right up here for you.” I motioned towards the drums then continued my lesson, trying not to bring too much attention to the patient. “Anger is not a bad thing,” I resumed. “It is healthy to feel angry when you find that something is unjust or when something makes you upset. What really matters is how you deal with that anger.” There were a few nods of agreement amongst the group.” I looked around and noticed that almost every one of the eight patients was attentive. It made me feel good when they listened. I tried to remember who was nodding and making eye contact for my notes later. “What are some negative ways you’ve coped with your anger?” Before anyone could answer, I saw from the corner of my eye a figure moving quickly towards me. “SATAN WANTS YOU DEAD!” That was the last thing I heard before everything went black.