Chapter 1
UNDER THE MONSTER
By THE RED MONSTER
Chapter 1 — The Man Behind the Glass
Some monsters are feared for what they have done. Few are ever asked what they remember.
The rain had started before sunset.
It tapped against the tall observation-room windows, leaving thin trails of water across the glass. Beyond them, the city continued its ordinary routine, unaware of what existed behind the reinforced doors of a psychiatric institution.
Inside, everything was quiet.
Too quiet.
Archer Maddox sat at the far end of a narrow table.
Twenty-nine years old.
Hazel eyes. Dark hair. An expression that rarely revealed anything worth understanding.
He had become a name people whispered rather than spoke. His medical records were extensive, his history complicated, and his previous psychiatric appointments had ended without meaningful progress.
Twenty-six psychiatrists.
That was the number written in his file.
Some had requested transfers. Others had refused to see him again.
And now there was another name on the appointment schedule.
Dr. Elena Voss.
She stood outside the observation room, reading the final page of his file.
She had been warned.
About his temper. His unpredictable behaviour. His refusal to cooperate.
But the most interesting thing about the file wasn't what it contained.
It was what it failed to explain.
Elena closed the folder.
"Let's begin."
---
The door opened.
Her footsteps were measured as she entered the room, carrying a notebook and a pen.
Archer didn't look up immediately.
He was examining his hands.
"Good morning, Mr. Maddox."
Nothing.
Elena took the chair opposite him.
"I'm Dr. Voss."
A few seconds passed.
"I know who you are," he finally replied.
His voice was calm, almost uninterested.
"Then I suppose introductions aren't necessary."
She placed her notebook on the table.
Archer raised his eyes.
"You're the twenty-seventh?"
Elena met his gaze.
"Apparently."
A faint, humourless expression crossed his face.
"That's unfortunate."
"Why?"
"Because the previous twenty-six didn't last."
She didn't immediately respond.
Instead, she studied him for a moment.
"Perhaps they were too busy trying to understand your file."
"And you aren't?"
"I'm more interested in understanding the person sitting in front of me."
His expression changed slightly.
"That's what they all say."
"Then I'll try not to waste your time with promises."
For the first time, Archer seemed genuinely interested.
---
The first few minutes passed with little conversation.
Archer leaned back in his chair, occasionally brushing his thumb against his knuckle. Elena noticed the repetitive movement but didn't interrupt it.
"Do you know why you're here?" she asked.
"Because apparently, I'm a problem that hasn't been solved."
"Do you believe that?"
He looked at her.
"Does it matter what I believe?"
"It matters to me if we're going to have an honest conversation."
A quiet laugh escaped him.
"Honest conversations. That's new."
Elena remained composed.
"Then let's try something different. I don't want you to tell me what you think I expect to hear."
"And what if I have nothing to say?"
"Then we can begin with silence."
Archer stared at her.
He seemed almost disappointed that she hadn't argued.
---
Several minutes later, Elena opened her notebook.
"I read about your childhood."
His expression hardened.
"Congratulations."
"I also read that you stopped talking for a long time."
His fingers became still.
"People eventually stop talking when nobody listens."
Elena looked at him carefully.
"Did you feel that nobody was listening to you?"
He looked towards the observation window.
"Doesn't matter now."
"Maybe not. But it mattered then."
His jaw tightened.
For a moment, the room seemed colder.
"You know what's funny?" he asked. "Everyone wanted me to speak. Nobody wanted to hear what I actually had to say."
Elena didn't interrupt.
Archer looked back at her.
"And now you want to hear it?"
"I want to understand what you're willing to tell me."
He studied her expression, searching for something.
Perhaps impatience.
Perhaps pity.
He found neither.
---
The conversation moved slowly.
There were questions he refused to answer, memories he dismissed, and moments when his expression became so distant that Elena chose not to push further.
She understood something important about him.
Archer expected every conversation to become an argument.
And he seemed prepared to win every one of them.
But she wasn't there to defeat him.
She was there to understand him without pretending that understanding could erase responsibility.
At one point, she asked him a question.
"Is there anything you enjoy?"
He looked almost offended.
"That's your question?"
"Yes."
"After everything you've read about me?"
"Especially after everything I've read about you."
He leaned back.
"You're supposed to ask about my past."
"I've already read about your past. I'd rather hear something from you that isn't written in a file."
Silence.
His gaze wandered towards the window.
"Rain."
Elena glanced outside.
"Rain?"
"Yes."
She repeated the word quietly, as though giving it the attention it deserved.
"There's something comforting about knowing the world is moving outside while you don't have to move at all."
She noticed his thumb brushing against his knuckle but didn't interrupt the gesture.
"I wonder if that's what you like about it. No expectations. No questions. No one demanding an explanation from you."
She paused, then added:
"Just the sound of something falling, without anything needing to break."
Her gaze returned to his.
"If you could choose one place to sit and listen to that rain, where would it be?"
---
Archer's eyes went distant.
The hard lines of his face softened into something almost peaceful.
For a moment, the sterile room seemed to recede, replaced by the ghost of a memory.
"A porch," he said.
His voice was steady and sure.
"Old wood, peeling paint. Somewhere with a screen door that creaks when the wind hits it."
Elena remained silent.
He leaned forward slightly, his hands resting on the table.
"There'd be a chair. One of those old rocking ones. And a blanket that smells like cedar."
He paused.
"Just sitting there. Watching the water run down the eaves and into the garden."
His voice grew quieter.
"I haven't thought about that porch in a long time."
Elena looked at him.
She had read hundreds of pages about Archer Maddox.
She had read about his behaviour, his choices, his history and the people whose lives had been affected by him.
But nowhere in those pages had anyone mentioned an old rocking chair.
Or a cedar-scented blanket.
Or a garden.
She closed her notebook.
"Does remembering it feel comforting, Archer? Or does it bring back something you'd rather leave untouched?"
He didn't answer immediately.
His eyes remained fixed on the rain.
"You don't have to explain everything," she added. "We can simply let the memory exist for a while."
For once, Archer didn't challenge her.
He didn't laugh.
He didn't turn the conversation into another argument.
He simply sat there.
Listening to the rain.
And Elena allowed the silence to remain.
---
Outside, the rain grew heavier.
Inside, the clock continued ticking.
Their first session was almost over.
Archer eventually looked at her.
"You're different from the others."
Elena gathered her notebook.
"That's an interesting observation."
"Don't get comfortable, Doctor."
"I wasn't planning to."
He almost smiled.
Almost.
She stood and approached the door.
"Same time next session, Mr. Maddox."
He looked away.
"We'll see."
Elena left without asking for a promise.
The door closed behind her.
Archer remained seated.
His eyes returned to the window.
A porch.
An old rocking chair.
A garden.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd allowed himself to think about something so ordinary.
And perhaps that was the strangest part of the entire conversation.
For a few minutes, he hadn't been thinking about the man everyone feared.
He had simply been remembering a place.
END OF CHAPTER 1
