Rave

Caring Karing

"I have an idea," he said, eyes glittering with an uncanny malignance that made me stir; something about the danger spoke to me and made my insides quiver with ferocity. "Have you ever thought about death so intently that your heart sinks like quicksand into the depths of your stomach?" He sat relaxed, full control at his fingertips despite the straight jacket wrapped around his body firmly. His voice rang in the air; not even the muzzle could snuff the violence in each word.

"An idea? What idea is that?"

"That is, indeed, a good question." He licked his lips and rolled back his head, staring up at the tiled ceiling before turning to look back at me. "Let's save that question for another time, shall we?"

"Alright," I replied. "What else would you like to discuss?"

His face softened, the creases from his smile dissipating - perhaps as the result of a realisation that he, again, had control. Even if it were just the direction of the conversation, he had it. "Let's discuss you, Ms. Karing." He stifled a laugh, but one emerged regardless. "Karing. It's ironic."

"How so?"

"Let's not get off topic, ma'am." He straightened, the smile returning in the movement. "What is your full name?"

The prompting made me uncomfortable. For someone of his caliber, I couldn't even doubt whether or not he had that information already. And had he not, it wouldn't be hard to find nor pry from the lips of another. But truly, how could I risk putting myself in that position? I shifted uneasily and asked: "What is the relevance of that question?"

"You asked me what I wanted to discuss. You are the subject I have chosen. Is it cooperation you seek or my objections? Another week of solitary confinement - your special flavour of punishment, is it not?"

"I don't decide your punishments, Parse. I wouldn't choose that for you."

"I'm sure. Should I repeat my question once more so I can get an answer?"

I paused. I recognised the seriousness of his expression. "Okay, fine. My name is Meldy Cordelia Karing."

He ruptured into laughter. "Meldy Cordelia Karing? It's the name of the ancients!" His head moved with each burst, eyes hazing with liquid. He found the name so hilarious it brought him to tears.

"Parse, please?"

"Right, right, right, right." He heaved out heavy breaths. "What is your idea?" he asked, retaining a composure that surprised me. He sat as if he hadn't been laughing.

"My idea?"

"Yes, my love, your idea."

I blinked a couple times, another measure to see if he were nothing more than an insane hallucination, but for whatever reason... I hoped he hadn't been my imagination. Nevertheless, I tried again. "I don't have an idea," I replied.

"Everyone has an idea. Don't make me repeat myself! What is it?"

I leaned forward, clipboard pressing into my stomach, eyes resting on his features. Against my own will, the words left my lips, and I heard myself saying, "My idea is your release."

His turn came to remain silent. Lips parted ever so slightly, his own eyes blinking profusely. Just as the silence came by him, it departed also by this man of many words. "What did I just hear you say?"

"I want to release you."

"Oh my, has Ms. Karing decided to be caring and, rather than pursue this stupid fucking idea that I am insane, came to the conclusion that it might be nigh time to express what we have all be waiting for?"

"You are sane, I will grant you."

I didn't know what had come over me. I didn't know why I said the things I said or why I even found myself moving towards him, reaching behind him, and unfastening his jacket. I didn't know why I waltzed to my desk and pulled out my pistol, giving him it upon returning to his side. I also didn't even know what came over me when I stood unfazed to find the nuzzle pressed between my eyes. I only knew that I didn't falter, and instead remained standing with dignity.

"Maybe your name isn't so ironic after all, Ms. Karing."

"Stop calling me Ms . Karing, Parse." He scoffed, dropping the arm that held the gun.

"I don't know what else to call you, but it doesn't matter. Many thanks for all these pointless sessions and treatments." He turned, giving me one last look, before heading straight to the door.

I figured that would be the last time I saw him. The realisation of what that meant cascaded on my brain like the weight of Thor's hammer: He wouldn't be around anymore. He wouldn't sit in that chair convicted of lunacy, divulging into concepts that whispered to my brain. His voice made my heart race, and now I would never feel that sensation any longer.

My knees buckled. I found myself on the ground, mumbling to myself. "What have I done?" Not only would I lose my job, but I would never see him again either. Those two facts alone were devastating, and I hadn't even pondered the consequences that would come from those either.

Shaking, I pulled myself to my feet and sat behind my desk. I could hear my heartbeat without even needing to press my wrist to my ear - palpitations, they were. Rapid and unceasing. Breathing, too, came irregular. Waiting remained the last thing I could do and muster; waiting for the sharp alarms to slice through the air, the echoing march of feet slamming on the ground. Gunfire, inevitably, to signal the demise of Rave Parse.

What have I done?

I jumped at the sound of the phone ringing. The first round came through and then the second before I pressed it to my ear. "Hello?"

"Hello, Dr. Karing. How are you?" I adjusted in my seat, listening to the smooth flow of my boss's voice travel through my head. "How is Parse?" I could tell she already knew the answer to it. "Oh, I apologise. I mean, how is your escaping patient?"