Twisted Image by Jacob Long (red novels txt) đź“•
Excerpt from the book:
The following is the unofficial treatment record of Dr. Alicia Bessemer concerning her treatment of the patient, Lance Firnstahl. Treatment began on March 1st, 2011, and what transpired over the next month, shocked the psychological world. It is released now for all to see.
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- Author: Jacob Long
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noted last week that Lance seems to be characterized more by a lack of personality than an insane one. Desmond, however, has a very powerful personality. Perhaps Desmond was created to make up for the weakness in Lance. My plan remains the same. I will try to promote Lance’s confidence and convince him that he does not need Desmond anymore. Maybe then Desmond can be defeated. I called off meditation time and struck a deal with Desmond; buying me time to talk only to Lance.
We’ll see who wins this game yet…
On a side note, James came out of the surveillance room early this morning to ask me why Paul wasn’t there when he came to relieve him. I told James to go home; that he was dismissed for the rest of the treatment. Desmond could probably convince him to leave too, anyway. Now it’s just me and Desmond.
March 16, 2011
Things went pretty routine yesterday. I got my time with Lance and Desmond gave me a few more creative nightmares and meditation fantasies. The only reason I write today is to report that Desmond came up with a new trick the same moment I did. I asked Lance if I could talk to Desmond. He agreed with no objections. I wanted to talk to Desmond to see if I could maybe uncover some insecurities in him. While we were talking he began to display mental images to me in my mind at random points during the conversation. They were explicitly sexual in nature. It was a surprise at first. Well, to be honest, they continued to be every time he did it. However, it really wasn’t helping to drive me insane. Maybe if I were a virgin these images would have more effect, but as it is I am not impressed. They weren’t even really creative.
I keep these memoirs in earnest. If I fail, they may be useful to the next person who tries.
March 17, 2011
Desmond came up with some new images to show me today. They were the most visceral and disgusting I could have imagined. I ended up begging Desmond to stop. It was fair play but I just couldn’t take it. The blood, the torn flesh, the dismemberments; they were horrible. I must become stronger. I will prevail.
March 18, 2011
The images of dismemberment and torture that Desmond has taken to showing me had less effect on me today. I’ve taken to pretending they’re not affecting me at all. Maybe soon that will really be true. Is that a good thing?
March 21, 2011
It’s morning now; which is unusual. I usually write about the day’s events at night; which only makes sense. I’ve decided to write this sort of emergency memoir because something amazing, but terrible, has happened.
A couple more days have passed. More than I thought, even. The first day since my last entry was unremarkable, but the second…the second doesn’t even seem to have technically happened for me. I thought it was the nineteenth today. But it’s not. To be frank; I had a dream last---yesterday. In the dream I lived out an entire day of my life. Desmond was there, of course. He’d fabricated the entire thing. We were in some sort of trippy, blurry, psychedelic version of a forest. The sun was just rising when it started and was going down when the dream ended. Desmond and I had spent that entire day talking. Meanwhile the environment around us began to exhibit more and more insane and disturbing things. It was a good idea, and an effective tactic, immersing me in the horror he’d been subjecting me to this whole time.
I woke up today to find out that a day actually had passed in real time. What a creative way to rob me of my right to a fair amount of time to try to cure him. He must be getting desperate. I’m going to complain about this to him. It’s not fair robbing a day from me.
March 20, 2011 (continued)
It’s night now. Desmond at least acknowledged that he broke the rules. He’s not allowed to invade my dreams tonight and I get all of tomorrow to talk to Lance. I’ll be sure to make the most of it.
March 22, 2011
Desmond kept his word and kept out of my dreams. I made a ton of progress with Lance. Maybe this is cruel, but I started to let on that there is a part of me that is very interested in shy, quiet Lance Firnstahl. I say cruel because honestly, my job would prevent me from ever carrying on a serious relationship with him. It’s just wouldn’t be right. I hope Lance understands when the time comes, and I hope this promotes his self-confidence to get rid of Desmond.
March 23, 2011
Today Desmond…raped me. At least, I think. It depends on how far you’re willing to stretch the term. A cynical person would say that I actually let him do it. While we were talking today the subject came up of the way I was hitting on Lance the other day. Desmond got angry. He…hit me. He knocked me on the table. I was a little dazed I guess; but it was more than that. I was having strange thoughts. I was thinking romantic thoughts and I even became aroused. Desmond was muttering something about me wanting his body…and that’s when he pulled down my pants. To be honest I was enjoying myself while he did it. Desmond was surprisingly gentle; not really furious like a rapist would be. Not that it makes it okay.
It’s strange that I’m in such a calm and reflective state of mind. I’m not exhibiting any of the behaviors of a rape victim. I’m more overcome by my fascination for it all. A part of me feels that I accepted it even before it happened. All of these events make me nervous. Has Desmond gotten to me this much that he can affect me so deeply? Am I losing?
Perhaps not. In the middle of everything Lance fought back. Desmond suddenly stopped what he was doing and blinked at me like he had no idea where he was. Tears started dripping onto my face from his eyes and he pulled away. I knew right then that it was Lance. For a wile he was simply sobbing in the corner with his pants still around his ankles, but then he got furious. He started raging at Desmond, and then he got up and ran into his room. I didn’t dare follow him. I hope he’s in there doing something about Desmond right now. Maybe it’s all about to end.
March 25, 2011
It’s the fucking twenty-fifth! Desmond robbed another day from me with his damn dream-time therapy sessions! I guess Lance still couldn’t get rid of him. No matter. There’s still time. Desmond’s going to pay for his antics again. I’m going to make sure of that!
March 25, 2011 (continued)
Earlier today I got another terrible shock. Lance didn’t just not destroy Desmond, he lost to him. Today I demanded another full day with Lance and Desmond told me it wasn’t possible. Desmond then explained to me that on the night of March twenty-second he succeeded in ousting whatever was left of Lance’s psyche. He claimed to be the only personality left in Lance’s body.
I begged for Lance to come out. I begged for him to take over just as he did when Desmond was raping me, but nothing happened. Desmond remained in control. I’ve failed. If Lance is truly gone, then there is no reason for me to continue.
No. I won’t believe it. I still have time. Perhaps Desmond is only suppressing Lance. If I can get Desmond to admit that he has insecurities; that he’s not as all-powerful as he thinks he is; if I can just get him to lower his guard; maybe, just maybe, Lance will shine through once more.
March 26, 2011
Desmond couldn’t believe I wanted to continue with treatment today. I wish, just once, I had his ability to see through people. I want to know if I called his bluff.
“It is a fantastic ability.”
Why did I write that?
“Cuz I made you.”
Holy shit. Are we having a conversation through my journal?
“Yep. Most of the time this is a secret to me; but Lance can’t stop me from peeking anymore.”
I’m writing down his responses as if they were my own thoughts. This is insane.
“Ho-ho! Be careful with that word doc, please!”
Alright. That’s enough.
“Are you wearing a bra right now?”
That’s none of your damn business.
“It is now. With Lance gone, he can’t stop me from reading every thought. Even the one’s you write down here. I happen to know for a fact that you sleep in nothing but panties…sexy.”
Enough! I’m shutting my diary now.
March 27, 2011
Desmond is fludding me with images and negative thoughts all the time now. My mid is racing constantly. I can’t tell if hes getting desperate or if my defenses are finally, completely down now. Its getting hard to fokus.
March 2…,
I don’t think I can take this anymore. God ! I don’t even no what day it is! Did I just write “god?” That’s funny. I don’t even think he exists anymore. If god is real, I want to see his face. He’s ignoring me! The only thing I can think about is Desmond. He plagues my every thought with his witchcraft! Desmond’s looking to make himself my god. I won’t let him! I won’t let him!
…I misspelled a word up there too. I’ve got to stop using pens. I’m so distracted.
March…I think
Help me god . I can’t defeat Desmond. I know that now. I admit it. I’m not what I thought I was. Just help me. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Help me god help me god help me god help me god help me god help me god help god help me god help me my head it hurts so bad………………
Day: Meaningless Month: Meaningless
I don’t even care what day it is anymore. Desmond’s gone. This morning he told me “that his work was done” and then he just left! What will I do now? Without him…I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. He’s become my whole world. I’m all alone in this warehouse. What do I do?
March 31, 2011
It’s been a day since Desmond left me. I cried myself to sleep last night. I was feeling so alone, but then some men came into the room today. They asked me a bunch of questions but most of them I didn’t even know the answers to. I don’t know what they think was going on in there and I don’t care where Paul went. They even had the gall to ask me where Desmond went. Don’t they think if I knew that I’d be there with him now? Idiots.
At least they knew what day it is. I should probably still be waiting for Desmond in that room, but they told me if he came around they’d tell him where to find me. I
We’ll see who wins this game yet…
On a side note, James came out of the surveillance room early this morning to ask me why Paul wasn’t there when he came to relieve him. I told James to go home; that he was dismissed for the rest of the treatment. Desmond could probably convince him to leave too, anyway. Now it’s just me and Desmond.
March 16, 2011
Things went pretty routine yesterday. I got my time with Lance and Desmond gave me a few more creative nightmares and meditation fantasies. The only reason I write today is to report that Desmond came up with a new trick the same moment I did. I asked Lance if I could talk to Desmond. He agreed with no objections. I wanted to talk to Desmond to see if I could maybe uncover some insecurities in him. While we were talking he began to display mental images to me in my mind at random points during the conversation. They were explicitly sexual in nature. It was a surprise at first. Well, to be honest, they continued to be every time he did it. However, it really wasn’t helping to drive me insane. Maybe if I were a virgin these images would have more effect, but as it is I am not impressed. They weren’t even really creative.
I keep these memoirs in earnest. If I fail, they may be useful to the next person who tries.
March 17, 2011
Desmond came up with some new images to show me today. They were the most visceral and disgusting I could have imagined. I ended up begging Desmond to stop. It was fair play but I just couldn’t take it. The blood, the torn flesh, the dismemberments; they were horrible. I must become stronger. I will prevail.
March 18, 2011
The images of dismemberment and torture that Desmond has taken to showing me had less effect on me today. I’ve taken to pretending they’re not affecting me at all. Maybe soon that will really be true. Is that a good thing?
March 21, 2011
It’s morning now; which is unusual. I usually write about the day’s events at night; which only makes sense. I’ve decided to write this sort of emergency memoir because something amazing, but terrible, has happened.
A couple more days have passed. More than I thought, even. The first day since my last entry was unremarkable, but the second…the second doesn’t even seem to have technically happened for me. I thought it was the nineteenth today. But it’s not. To be frank; I had a dream last---yesterday. In the dream I lived out an entire day of my life. Desmond was there, of course. He’d fabricated the entire thing. We were in some sort of trippy, blurry, psychedelic version of a forest. The sun was just rising when it started and was going down when the dream ended. Desmond and I had spent that entire day talking. Meanwhile the environment around us began to exhibit more and more insane and disturbing things. It was a good idea, and an effective tactic, immersing me in the horror he’d been subjecting me to this whole time.
I woke up today to find out that a day actually had passed in real time. What a creative way to rob me of my right to a fair amount of time to try to cure him. He must be getting desperate. I’m going to complain about this to him. It’s not fair robbing a day from me.
March 20, 2011 (continued)
It’s night now. Desmond at least acknowledged that he broke the rules. He’s not allowed to invade my dreams tonight and I get all of tomorrow to talk to Lance. I’ll be sure to make the most of it.
March 22, 2011
Desmond kept his word and kept out of my dreams. I made a ton of progress with Lance. Maybe this is cruel, but I started to let on that there is a part of me that is very interested in shy, quiet Lance Firnstahl. I say cruel because honestly, my job would prevent me from ever carrying on a serious relationship with him. It’s just wouldn’t be right. I hope Lance understands when the time comes, and I hope this promotes his self-confidence to get rid of Desmond.
March 23, 2011
Today Desmond…raped me. At least, I think. It depends on how far you’re willing to stretch the term. A cynical person would say that I actually let him do it. While we were talking today the subject came up of the way I was hitting on Lance the other day. Desmond got angry. He…hit me. He knocked me on the table. I was a little dazed I guess; but it was more than that. I was having strange thoughts. I was thinking romantic thoughts and I even became aroused. Desmond was muttering something about me wanting his body…and that’s when he pulled down my pants. To be honest I was enjoying myself while he did it. Desmond was surprisingly gentle; not really furious like a rapist would be. Not that it makes it okay.
It’s strange that I’m in such a calm and reflective state of mind. I’m not exhibiting any of the behaviors of a rape victim. I’m more overcome by my fascination for it all. A part of me feels that I accepted it even before it happened. All of these events make me nervous. Has Desmond gotten to me this much that he can affect me so deeply? Am I losing?
Perhaps not. In the middle of everything Lance fought back. Desmond suddenly stopped what he was doing and blinked at me like he had no idea where he was. Tears started dripping onto my face from his eyes and he pulled away. I knew right then that it was Lance. For a wile he was simply sobbing in the corner with his pants still around his ankles, but then he got furious. He started raging at Desmond, and then he got up and ran into his room. I didn’t dare follow him. I hope he’s in there doing something about Desmond right now. Maybe it’s all about to end.
March 25, 2011
It’s the fucking twenty-fifth! Desmond robbed another day from me with his damn dream-time therapy sessions! I guess Lance still couldn’t get rid of him. No matter. There’s still time. Desmond’s going to pay for his antics again. I’m going to make sure of that!
March 25, 2011 (continued)
Earlier today I got another terrible shock. Lance didn’t just not destroy Desmond, he lost to him. Today I demanded another full day with Lance and Desmond told me it wasn’t possible. Desmond then explained to me that on the night of March twenty-second he succeeded in ousting whatever was left of Lance’s psyche. He claimed to be the only personality left in Lance’s body.
I begged for Lance to come out. I begged for him to take over just as he did when Desmond was raping me, but nothing happened. Desmond remained in control. I’ve failed. If Lance is truly gone, then there is no reason for me to continue.
No. I won’t believe it. I still have time. Perhaps Desmond is only suppressing Lance. If I can get Desmond to admit that he has insecurities; that he’s not as all-powerful as he thinks he is; if I can just get him to lower his guard; maybe, just maybe, Lance will shine through once more.
March 26, 2011
Desmond couldn’t believe I wanted to continue with treatment today. I wish, just once, I had his ability to see through people. I want to know if I called his bluff.
“It is a fantastic ability.”
Why did I write that?
“Cuz I made you.”
Holy shit. Are we having a conversation through my journal?
“Yep. Most of the time this is a secret to me; but Lance can’t stop me from peeking anymore.”
I’m writing down his responses as if they were my own thoughts. This is insane.
“Ho-ho! Be careful with that word doc, please!”
Alright. That’s enough.
“Are you wearing a bra right now?”
That’s none of your damn business.
“It is now. With Lance gone, he can’t stop me from reading every thought. Even the one’s you write down here. I happen to know for a fact that you sleep in nothing but panties…sexy.”
Enough! I’m shutting my diary now.
March 27, 2011
Desmond is fludding me with images and negative thoughts all the time now. My mid is racing constantly. I can’t tell if hes getting desperate or if my defenses are finally, completely down now. Its getting hard to fokus.
March 2…,
I don’t think I can take this anymore. God ! I don’t even no what day it is! Did I just write “god?” That’s funny. I don’t even think he exists anymore. If god is real, I want to see his face. He’s ignoring me! The only thing I can think about is Desmond. He plagues my every thought with his witchcraft! Desmond’s looking to make himself my god. I won’t let him! I won’t let him!
…I misspelled a word up there too. I’ve got to stop using pens. I’m so distracted.
March…I think
Help me god . I can’t defeat Desmond. I know that now. I admit it. I’m not what I thought I was. Just help me. I don’t want to feel like this anymore. Help me god help me god help me god help me god help me god help me god help god help me god help me my head it hurts so bad………………
Day: Meaningless Month: Meaningless
I don’t even care what day it is anymore. Desmond’s gone. This morning he told me “that his work was done” and then he just left! What will I do now? Without him…I don’t know what I’m going to do with my life. He’s become my whole world. I’m all alone in this warehouse. What do I do?
March 31, 2011
It’s been a day since Desmond left me. I cried myself to sleep last night. I was feeling so alone, but then some men came into the room today. They asked me a bunch of questions but most of them I didn’t even know the answers to. I don’t know what they think was going on in there and I don’t care where Paul went. They even had the gall to ask me where Desmond went. Don’t they think if I knew that I’d be there with him now? Idiots.
At least they knew what day it is. I should probably still be waiting for Desmond in that room, but they told me if he came around they’d tell him where to find me. I
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