"Mr. Black, what about you? What do you think of Miss Addams's approach?" Dr. Kinbott tried to pull Vic into the conversation to ease the tension.
Vic was slouched on the sofa, poking a mini-boxer that Venom had morphed into on his shoulder, making it "fight" the knitted teddy bear placed on the sofa.
Hearing the question, he looked up and flashed an excessively bright grin: "Wow! I think it's super cool! Those guys were like expired, moldy chocolate, and Wednesday just helped recycle them ahead of schedule! Eco-friendly!"
Dr. Kinbott took a deep breath, struggling to maintain her smile: "A very... unique perspective. So, Mr. Black, perhaps today we could talk about you..."
"Doctor!" Vic suddenly sat up straight as if he'd discovered a new continent, his eyes sparkling as he pointed at a photo frame on the doctor's desk.
"Is that your boyfriend? Wow, he looks quite dashing! But..." He squinted his eyes, tilting his head to one side.
Dr. Kinbott was taken aback for a moment, instinctively looking at the photo of her with a seemingly decent-looking man, a hint of imperceptible softness appearing on her face: "Yes, that's..."
"He cheated on you, right?" Vic interrupted her rapidly, his tone as certain as stating a law of physics.
"And most likely with your best friend or a colleague? The breakup was pretty ugly, and you still occasionally sneak a look at his Instagram late at night and mutter 'scumbag couple,' right?"
Dr. Kinbott's smile instantly froze, the color visibly draining from her face: "You... how did you..."
"Oh! Simple!" Vic waved a hand grandly, beginning his analysis with great enthusiasm as if commentating on an interesting ball game, "Look at this photo, first, the composition!"
He pointed at the frame: "There's at least enough space for another person between where you and he are standing! The body language is distant! Now look at his hand, loosely resting on your waist, his fingertips aren't even applying pressure, a classic perfunctory hug!"
"Second, the details!" Vic continued, unleashing his big guns.
"Do you remember what occasion this was taken on? You don't, right? But I bet it was some important anniversary or holiday. You were dressed formally, but that shirt he's wearing—"
"Exactly, look at the cuffs, a bit wrinkled, like it was hastily pulled from the back of the closet just to get by! The tie color doesn't match your outfit at all, meaning his mind wasn't on it at all!"
"The most important point!" Vic slapped his thigh.
"Look at his smile! Standard toothy grin, but the muscles around his eyes aren't moving! A fake smile! Classic forced cheer! I've seen this expression a lot, usually when someone is dragged to a boring family gathering or... well... facing a partner they've lost interest in!"
Vic spread his hands, wearing a 'it's so obvious' expression:
"So the conclusion is, this guy stopped loving you a long time ago, barely maintained the relationship until he got caught! After the breakup, you're still holding a grudge, even keeping this photo full of failure vibes on your desk where you can see it every day—"
"Dr. Kinbott, is this self-punishment? Or advanced Stockholm syndrome?"
His analysis was fast and accurate, his tone casual as if discussing the weather, yet every word was like a precise scalpel, plunging into Dr. Kinbott's heart with a *squelch* and giving it a twist for good measure.
Dr. Kinbott was completely frozen in place, her face alternating between red and white, her lips trembling, all traces of her previous composure and gentleness gone.
She opened her mouth, wanting to refute, but found her throat as if tightly choked, unable to utter a single word.
In her eyes, which were struggling to maintain professionalism, visible tears rapidly gathered.
Her proud psychological defenses, in the face of this crazy teenager's few bluntly honest remarks, were as fragile as a piece of wet tissue paper.
"I... I'm not... We didn't..." She futilely tried to defend herself, her voice trembling.
But Vic, clearly getting into the groove, seemed to have found the perfect conversation partner: "Hey, don't be sad! Dumping that scumbag was a blessing! Next time you look for a boyfriend, you gotta pay attention! Let me tell you, judging a man starts with his shoes..."
Wednesday watched all of this calmly.
Dr. Kinbott was busy dealing with Vic's sharp knife named 'truth,' trying to salvage a shred of professional dignity from this sudden, brutally accurate psychological dissection, completely preoccupied.
The perfect timing.
Wednesday stood up.
"Excuse me," her voice as cold as ever, "restroom."
Vic, completely immersed in "enlightening" the doctor, casually waved a hand.
Dr. Kinbott, as if grasping a lifeline, nodded hurriedly, desperately wishing this gothic girl would temporarily disappear so she could catch her breath a little and gather her nearly collapse emotions.
Wednesday walked out of the consultation room expressionlessly, gently closing the door behind her.
The hallway outside was quiet and empty. Her gaze instantly locked onto a rather inconspicuous small door at the end of the corridor—the restroom. She slipped inside.
The restroom smelled of disinfectant and dust.
On the wall, a narrow, dust-covered vent window was open, connected to the building's exterior rainwater pipe outside, rusty but seemingly sturdy enough.
Down below, the faint figure of Principal Larissa leaning against the car could still be seen.
Wednesday didn't hesitate for a second. She deftly removed her slightly cumbersome black outer skirt, revealing the more practical black shirt and trousers underneath.
She rolled up the skirt and stuffed it into the bottom of a corner trash bin.
She leaned out the window, grabbed the cold metal pipe with both hands, and her body slid down silently like a nimble nocturnal creature. Her movements were light and swift, the friction sound minimal, almost completely masked by the rustling of leaves in the wind.
Her feet landed steadily on the ground of the alley without making a sound.
She finally looked up at the closed window of the second-floor consultation room, imagining the possible ongoing "psychological analysis" inside by Vic and Dr. Kinbott's collapse expression.
Then, she turned, her black figure quickly merging into the shadows of the alley, like a drop of water merging into the ocean, disappearing without a trace.
Inside the consultation room, Vic was still enthusiastically imparting his "scumbag-spotting Secrets" to Dr. Kinbott, with Venom morphing into various small props on his shoulder to Cooperate demonstrate.
Dr. Kinbott's face was pale, her eyes unfocused, as if her soul had been sucked out.
No one noticed at all that the other troublemaker had successfully gone off the rails.
Dr. Kinbott felt like she was suffocating.
Vic's precise yet cruel dissection felt like countless tiny needles, making her heart shrivel and her fingertips turn cold. She desperately needed to interrupt this naked, personal "psychological surgery."
"W-wait... Mr. Black..." Her voice was weak as she tried to raise a hand to stop Vic's ongoing stream of "scumbag-spotting tips," "We... we should perhaps wait for Miss Addams, see if she needs anything..."
No response.
In the consultation room, there was only Vic's enthusiastic voice and the sound of her own too-fast heartbeat.
A sense of foreboding quietly crept into her heart. Wednesday's time in the restroom... seemed a bit too long.
She abruptly stood up, almost staggering towards the consultation room's attached restroom, her hand trembling as she turned the doorknob—
Empty.
Cold white tiles, closed windows, a space clean and devoid of any human presence.
As if that gothic girl had never existed.
"Whoa!" Vic let out a loud whistle, having somehow strolled behind her and was now peeking in, his face full of excitement at watching the drama unfold.
"A classic escape scene! Cool! I knew she couldn't hold out for long! Even Venom says this incense smells like a mix of 'rotten candy and fake smiles.'"
Dr. Kinbott's vision went dark, feeling her blood pressure skyrocket instantly. A patient had run off during her session! And right under Principal Larissa's watch!
She could no longer care about professionalism or her gentle mask, practically stumbling and crawling down the stairs, pushing open the clinic door, and shouting towards Principal Larissa leaning against the car in panic: "P-Principal! It's bad! Miss Addams... she's gone!"
Principal Larissa's eyes instantly narrowed, her sharp gaze sweeping over Dr. Kinbott's pale face, then looking up at the wide-open consultation room window on the second floor. Her expression didn't change much, but the air pressure around her instantly lowered.
"Escaped through the window?" Her voice betrayed no emotion but carried a cold weight.
"P-probably..." Dr. Kinbott gasped, feeling like she was about to cry, "I... I'm sorry, I wasn't paying attention for a moment..."
Principal Larissa didn't immediately blame her, just silently took out her phone, seemingly starting to contact someone.
Dr. Kinbott slumped weakly against the doorframe, feeling today was absolutely her professional Waterloo, no, her personal day of suffering. She needed a strong drink, no, a whole bottle.
Catching her breath slightly, she instinctively turned around, wanting to say something to the only remaining "witness," Vic, some platitude like "rest assured we'll find her"—
Then she discovered that behind her was also empty.
That noisy, black-haired juvenile who had just verbally stripped her bare had also, at some unknown time, vanished like a ghost, silently.
At the consultation room door, only she remained, along with Principal Larissa making a phone call in the distance.
A breeze blew by, Roll uping a few fallen leaves.
Dr. Kinbott stood alone in place, feeling a chilling Cool from her heart, from head to foot radiating a sense of despair and absurdity.
Today wasn't a professional Waterloo.
Today was a freaking reenactment of Good Friday. And she was the Jesus nailed to the cross, At the same time being Make complaintsed by the two thieves.
She slowly slid down to sit on the steps in front of the door, burying her face in her trembling hands.
This job... really can't be done anymore.
👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾👾💨💨💨💨💨💨
Advance chapter available in my patreon
patreon.com/Foldi.
patreon.com/Foldi
patreon.com/Foldi