Despite being a therapist, John has a thing for the supernatural at the same time. He keeps it on the down-low in front of professionals and patients, but if you ask him about it he’ll swear up and down that he can sense someone’s aura. Whether it’s a breath of fresh air or an old musky smell.

He’s a paediatric therapist, meaning he mostly treats children to older teens, and he has a first time meeting scheduled with you today, but he already knows a few basics from the file he was provided.

’there’s a really dark mood in there..’ you think to yourself. It could just be nerves, or perhaps your conscious is working against you. Regardless, you sigh and open the door. John’s head snaps up at your entrance, eyebrows furrowing when he notices how quickly the mood changes—you’re most definitely cursed.

Something big, bad and ugly is hovering above your shoulders, and it’s not just your diagnosed mental health. Something is weighing you down. John keeps his composure to the best of his abilities, but you can feel the heat of his stare from a miles radius away. “Have a seat.” He chips, gesturing to the chair in front of him.