Page 221 of Dark Souls

Then I was trapped.

“Fine, I guess.” I flicked my thumbs together on my lap, looking everywhere but in her eyes. I realised I didn’t ever really look people in the eyes (except Ilaria) unless I wanted to intimidate them. And when I really didn’t want to intimidate them, I tried to focus on everything else instead of their faces. “So, uh, how does this work?”

“What do you mean?” she replied softly, sitting with one leg over the other in a relaxed position.

“This.” I waved my hand around the room. “Therapy. Because, right now, I don’t think this is going to work for me.”

“You don’t like the room.” She didn’t say it as a question, as if she was already expecting this reaction.

“The room’s… fine.”

“It’s okay.” She laughed easily. “Ilaria doesn’t like my rooms either. She actually asked me to paint a room entirely black with only candles, books and dead flowers in vases for her sessions.”

I smirked at that. “That sounds like Ilaria. And did you?”

“No.” Alina shook her head slowly with a smile. “Her personal spaces are all like that. That is where she retreats to be alone and isolate herself. Yes, she finds comfort in that kind of environment, but sometimes, people need to be supported to put themselves in situations where they don’t always feel comfortable. Normally, it’s those situations that help us to grow the most.”

I moved my gaze around the room again. My eyes were drawn back to the water feature and its incessant trickling sound. I clicked my neck to the side, fighting my irritation. It reminded me of the sound of dripping water from the Knowlton cellars and the cave.

“Is the water fountain bothering you? I can turn it off if you prefer?”

“Thanks.” I nodded, and she stood up, unplugged the thing and returned to her chair, still fucking smiling.

“Therapy is whatever you want it to be, Luka. This is your time. We can sit in silence if that is what you need, or we can talk casually about anything or nothing. Or we go deeper. It’s completely up to you.”

I shuffled in the soft chair, sinking lower into the cushions. I hated this. But I had to remind myself what I was here for and why I was putting myself through this torture. I didn’t come here to sit in silence with my fucked up thoughts nor did I come to discuss the weather.

“Go deeper.”

Alina nodded. “Okay. Shall we start with the reason you are here? What do you envision getting out of our sessions?”

I rubbed my jaw, avoiding her eyes again. “I want to be better. Good. But I don’t know how to be.”

“And in your mind, what constitutes as good or better?”

I met her green eyes and stared hard. Was she serious? She didn’t flinch or glance away from my blazing glare, which I respected. “Anything but what I am.”

“And what are you?”

I moved in my chair again, feeling so fucking uncomfortable. My skin was itching and the need to escape this room, this conversation with a complete stranger, was making my agitation heighten.

Sensing whatever I was projecting, Alina lifted her hand. “We can stop if you like. Take some time.”

“No,” I snapped, then closed my eyes.Come on, Luka, you fucking prick. It’s just talking.I was grateful that Heathen had made himself scarce, sensing that I needed space to do this alone. “Sorry. Um, I guess I’m the opposite of good. I’ve done some fucked up shit in my past, and I guess, I still do. I’ve killed a lot of people. Too many to remember. I’ve tortured people. I’ve created fucked up events to entertain members ofThe Underground. I, uh, I guess people view me as a monster.”

“Do you think you are a monster, Luka?”

I swallowed, staring down at my hands. “Yes.”

“Why? Because you’ve killed people? People who probably deserved it?” Alina questioned, tilting her head to the side. “I’ve killed people too. They deserved it. Do you think I’m a monster?”

“No.” I shook my head.

“You were blackmailed and manipulated into committing most of those crimes. Is that right?”

“I guess.”

“But you still think you are a monster?”