I stand in front of the door, the same door I was knocking a few days before. This time I haven't even touched it, because part of me doubts on if this is a good idea. In the end, life is matter of perspective. I rise my hand and knock twice; silence, and the only sound is my knocking, bouncing inside the house. The wind starts rising from the ground, lifting leafs and dust from the pavement. There is a play ground across the street, but only the owl of the wind plays in it. While I think of this, he opens the door and tells me to come in. His eyes are dwelled, like if he has been crying recently. I am about to ask, but his sight makes me understand that there are certain questions that shouldn't be done.
We go inside the basement again, the dark place of healing. This time, besides the instruments of the past time, there is a big pan filled with water.
"What is that for?" I ask, while turning around to see Them... but I didn't see, he hits me on my throat and made me stumble to the ground. I'm in there when they tie my still aching wrists to my legs, making me arch to the back on the dusty ground. One of Them opens the instruments kit, and takes out the towel. It isn't bigger than a napkin, but is enough to cover my mouth and nose. "I still can breath through it", are the words that come to my mind. Wrong again: before I realize, the purpose of the pan with water becomes clear to me. While two of them step with all the weigh of their bodies on my wrists, avoiding me to move, the third one steps on my chest, expelling all the air. With the towel still on my face, they pour big amounts of water on it, until it is soaked and dripping. Until air is nothing but a distant memory that mocks me in front of my eyes. Until concience fades away from me. I start seeing black spots, and feeling a strong force in the back of my head pulling me to the shadows. I fall; that is what They have been waiting for.
The blades are taken out.
I dive in a world of colorful darkness, with voices from the past. I don't understand where am I, but I want out of here. Many people from my past are speaking to my ear, and I hate all of them. Yes, I hate all of them, and the desire to smack their fucking heads against a bricks wall pleases me. I try to swim away, but can't... and the voices stay next to me.
I wake up later, still tied to the ground, but with my shirt missing and a funny feeling all over my chest, tummy and arms. Like if I had wires inside me; no idea of what they are. But when I'm getting my full sight back, there is a shadow crawling across my chest. One leg... then the other... a lot of hair... until I realize it is a spider, a big one, on me. I try to get up from the ground, but it is in that moment that I discover why there are little wires under my skin: every "wire" is actually a wound, not wide at all, but deep enough to produce a severe infection in the muscle. They are masters of their field: no wound is visible at all until I move. The next thing I know, there is a huge puddle of blood around me, and I'm about to faint again. They leave me like that, until the blood stops comming out, and dries on my skin. I hear one particular voice in my head, telling me lies about every aspect I used to believe in... and then I wake up again. They untied me, and lifted me from the ground. All I know is, my arms are lifted from the ground, my thumbs are tied to a vige in the "ceiling", and what avoids me from a huge load of pain is the little ebony table under my feet.
"Hanging from my thumbs... two thumbs up", comes to my mind. He approaches me.
"Do you remember last time, when we asked you to let out your anger?"
"Yes, with the electrical shock... why?"
He kicks the table away from my feet, and my shout is dwelled by the walls of the room. I wish the nods break, but they won't. The second of them has been holding a few needles in the fire of a lighter since I woke up, and the gloves on His hands are not a good sign. He is handled with a needle and comes very close. Before he has time to introduce it in my skin, I heavily coarse with my loud voice all the demons that came to my mind when I was unconcious. I stop for a moment, trying to think if it is fair to coarse a certain persons, but the smell of burnt flesh tells me that those doubts are useless. Along with the calcitating pain that reaches a muscle, I keep vomiting every single hatred though of my rotten, useless heart. For every doubt, a red, incandescent needle. Three are inserted in my arms for the moment I fall unconcious again.
Blank. Nothing in my mind for now.
For the moment I wake up, it is already the night. They have left the place, and there is a note close to my sleeping table: "we will be waiting for you next Saturday. Thank you". I stand up slowly, still with my whole body in pain, get in my shoes and go downstairs for the outside door.
When I close it, a few words come to my brain: "No... thanks to You".

He opens me the door, and tells me they've been waiting for me for a while now. Outside, it is close to noon, but when we enter the basement, all the light entrances are covered with red fabric, making it look like a bloody sunset. Reminds me of a particular scene of a movie...
They are five, each one with a mind more macabre than the previous one, but all of them angels, as they want to help me. Angels have a very unconvecional way to aid those who need it. As a salutation, every one shakes my hand and huggs me, before leading me to the ebony table in the corner of the room. From somewhere behind the walls a static sound fills the whole place, and mixes with the white light that covers the walls. I sit on one side of the little table, right in front of the same one who opened the door, of the one who told me about this whole method in the first place.
"Extend your hand" one of them says. For that moment, two of them have already tied my chest to the chair with leather belts, another one is opening a kit with alcohol, stitches and vandages, and the last one brings a last kit, and rolls it open on the table. Fifteen different sized needles, 3 types of blades no wider than a human hair, about 2 meters of copper wires, two lighters, a small towel, a small battery with a switch and three bottles about an inch each, filled with a white liquid that I still don't know what it is. They say that I will get to know in a few weeks.
"Extend your hand, please". I do so, with my fist tigh closed and he wrapps a vandage around my arm, just below the elbow. I feel the muscles in my arm go hard, as the blood gets stucked inside my fear-full veins.
One needle is taken out from the kit. The one sitting in front of me is holding my wrist hard against the ebony, to avoid me from taking it off. All I have to do to prevent all this from happening is saying "no more", but I can't give up now. I try to breath deeply, which is hard due to the leather belts around me. The first needle goes cold inside my skin, and through the flesh, until it touches a nerve inside my hand. I start seeing black spots in front of my eyes, and my face is broken into a gesture of pain, but the words still don't come out of my mind. Four more needles are diving into my flesh now, two in my hand, one in my wrist and one next to a vein. The ones that hurt the most are inside the dorso of my hand, and are the ones he is touching to see if they are in the right place. They are. Suddenly, that arm is grabbed and lifted hard on top of my head: the muscle stretches, and the needles inside move. Tears roll down my cheek and wet my silent lips. My arm is held high until it feels cold; the more I fight to put it down, the more I move. It is put back in the table, and tied to it. All I can move is my wrist, the rest is well- attached. Honestly, I don't want to move it anyway. But I have to: he takes out the battery and a little piece of wire, to plug it to a new needle. It is now that I understand why they use thick leather gloves. The needle approaches her sisters inside my hand, threating with shocking me. Instinctively, my hand moves to a side to avoid the pain, paradoxically creating more. He keeps moving his needle to keep me in the motion until I am exhausted and give up to the electricity. The time remains unknown to me, but it's been a hundred years since yesterday. Am I going to be able to move my arm in a while?
He turns off the battery, and I think that it was over. Wrong...
The battery is plugged to the two metal strings in my hand, but isn't turn on yet.
"I want you to think of the most painful moments of your life. I want you to remember all those persons who get you into anger. I want you to visualize them sitting in front of you, laughing at you. And I want you to let out your emotions against them, to shout and even try to kill them". It is hard in the begining, due to all the pain. A buzz fills the room, and a shock deafs me when he turned on the battery. "Do it. They are in front of you". Once the electricity dries up, I see them in front of me. There is a smell on the air, sweet, but I shall not listen to them... words burst out of my mouth against everybody, people I hate, people I love, people I know... when I've said enough, I fall exhausted in my sit, but they turn on the battery again. After turning it off, he tells me: "that is your problem. You burst until you calm down, but you leave remainings inside you!!!"
"I am dry, I have nothing else inside!"
Another flow of shock, until the demons inside me wake up again. I shout, I get lose from the bondages and start shouting hate, until I kick the little table against a wall. They pull off the needles and I crumble to the ground. They come close to me, and heal my bleeding arm. They let me rest in a bed upstairs until I wake up from a blurry dream.
"You can go now. We'll see you in a couple of days". My whole body hurts, and it is almost impossible to wake up. But I feel certain liberation... liberate, my madness.
They help me go outside. I turn on a cigar and walk back home, waiting for my next session.