“But before we begin, ” Matthew said, “I have to know who exactly is the patient in this therapy, and who is the psychiatrist?”

      “Interesting question.” She said, smiling and taking another sip from the glass of wine. “I suppose we will have to find out in the process?”

      Matthew shifted his gaze down at her crossed legs, right one over the left. There, leaning against the left leg, was a small woman that sat quietly on the floor with legs bent sideways. It was the same one he had seen on the first day, the one that was used as a human toilet. She was still the same height, barely three feet tall, and still wore that melancholic expression. She had been called to clean the remains of Irene and after she was done, she was ordered to stand idly by her master while a hand stroked her hair in pet-like fashion.

      She was different from the rest, obviously. Special in some way to the redhead. Matthew wondered if he too was going to end up in a similar position, broken and entirely submissive after she’ll be done with him.

       “I still don’t understand exactly what it is that you want from me.” He said as he shifted his gaze back up again.

       “Just to talk.” She said. “I can sense that you have a different view towards the world compared to most normal people. You see things differently, you understand them differently. Though I am a little surprised by your views on innocence, I would have never thought that you wouldn’t see it for the lie that it is.”

       Just to talk. Matthew thought. No, it’s not just that. You want something more. But that something still eluded him.

       “It’s not a lie.” Matthew said, turning his head towards the window, squinting at the bright, formless light that streamed inside. “It’s an idea. Ideas cannot be true or false, they just are. Me and you, we just view it differently, like looking at a coin if one of us were to hold one up right now. You would be able to see one side, I the other, but never both sides at the same time. It’s the same with innocence. You believe that every human harbors evil within them, and you just have to draw it forth, while I believe that it’s innocence that you have to purge instead.”

       “Why?” She said. “Why your way and not mine?”

       “Because I’ve seen what happens when innocence is purged, the coldness inside. It’s not evil, far from it. It’s just… emptiness.”

       “Different views indeed.” She said. She seemed to be enjoying this conversation, but it was obvious to Matthew that he would never be able to persuade her on this matter. “Tell me, am I… cold?”

       “First I had my question and your answer.” He said. “Then I answered your question. It’s my turn now.”

       “Ah, a game of questions.” She said before she took another sip from the glass and then put it down on a small table nearby. “I suppose it’s only fair. Ask away.”

       “What is your name?”

       Her smile – the slight, confident, almost arrogant way she kept her lips drawn back so often, radiating this sense of superiority all around her – faded instantly. Matthew grew tense, but then her eyes fell off their gaze, transported into the otherworldly realm of memories. She really didn’t seem to like being reminded of her past, Matthew observed.

       “It’s funny, ” she said, still in the same state, “I’ve seen so many different reactions, so many different thoughts racing within their tiny heads when they see me for the first time. Fear, terror, awe and sometimes even tears of joy. They scream, they beg, they pray, or simply remain silent, stunned, unable or unknowing how to react. Questions follow, they ask me who I am, where they are, what I want from them, what I did to them.

       It becomes boring after a while, so I simply show them who I am. And that’s how I become just her. I don’t need a name by that point. I become the center of their world, their entire universe. They never ask me for my name afterwards, and even those titles like goddess, master, highness and such are of their own conceiving. I don’t order them to address me like that, they simply do it on their own. They learn to obey, to submit and to worship on their own. Human nature is like that, it’s designed to be submissive, to be ruled by higher powers.”

       She met his eyes again. “And for that reason, very few individuals know my name in this place, but one of them is my little childhood friend here.”

       Childhood friend? It was weirdly difficult for Matthew to imagine her having a childhood, but the friend part certainly seemed sarcastic to him, given how she treated the brunette.

       “Tell him.” She said. “What is my name.”

       The brunette seemed confused at first, unsure of whether it was a trick of some sort. It looked like she was really afraid to call the redhead by her name, as if it incurred heavy punishment, which perhaps it usually did, Matthew thought. She looked up, afraid to meet her master’s eyes but in terrible need of reassurance. The redhead only noded.

       “Her… her name is Laeiamaia.” She said as turned towards Matthew, who now in turn looked confused at the weird-sounding name. “It means red flower in our language. But everyone ever called her simply Maia, short for red.”

       “Maia…” Matthew said softly. ”I can live with that.”

       “So, there you have it, Matt.” Maia said, her characteristic smile returning.

      “I guess I’ll have to answer your question now, Maia.” He said, smiling back awkwardly. “So, are you cold on the ins-”

      “No.” She interrupted him. “Since we’re playing this game, let me be more specific. Profile me.”

      “Uh, ok.” Matthew shifted in his seat, gathering his thoughts. He had thought about it a lot in the past few days, and really wasn’t sure how to approach it best.

      “No, you are not a psychopath.” He said. Maia retreated her arm from her pet and crossed it over her left one, listening intently. “Nor are you a sociopath, which is basically the same thing, there is no difference between the two. You might seem like one and you definitely display some trains of a antisocial personality disorder within which psychopathy can be described to some extent, but you display some traits that rule you out.

      “You see, “ he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and joined his fingertips together while holding his hands under his chin, concentrating, “ psychopaths are callous and lack empathy, their emotions are very shallow, they are unable to accept responsibility over their actions, they are insincere, overconfident, selfish and most importantly, impulsive, which usually leads to unplanned violence they’re so famous for.

      But you, no.” He shook his head, smirking like a child. “Though you certainly are callous, you don’t lack empathy. Psychopaths don’t know what emotion is, but you certainly do. And I feel that you would be insulted if someone took responsibility and credit over your actions. You know very well what you are doing, you are meticulous and blunt in your actions and you plan them with pure calmness. There is nothing insincere about the way you wordlessly manipulate those people into forfeiting their lives… that’s not the hallmark of a psychopath, no. You need to be able to read people, judge them and their behaviour very well in order to do so, which violent psychopaths are incapable of.”

      Matthew reclined in his seat again, pausing briefly. “What you really are, it’s intrinsically linked with your MO.”

      Maia remained silent for a few moments. Then she moved to take her glass again and drank the remaining wine. “MO?”

      “Modus Operandi - Method of Operation.” Matthew said. “It’s unique for every killer, like a fingerprint. It can be a simple thing, like always lighting a cigarette before the deed, and it can be the very way you do it. But it almost always emerges as a result of the fundamental reason for why one kills. Psychopaths do it because they want to feel something, anything. You on the other hand… it’s a bit difficult to put your MO into context.”

      “Why?” She said, though she obviously wasn’t being serious. “Is my MO so difficult to comprehend?”

      “Difficult? No.” Matthew smiled back sarcastically. “But let me put it this way, if I had to do a profiling on your case at my job, it would look like this read something like this:

      Subject is female, a serial killer borderlining a mass murderer, main suspect related to the deaths of hundreds of people. Prefered MO: Shrinking them down and using her body as a murder weapon, especially her sex organs which indicate sexual motivations. She usually does it by either manipulate her victims into doing it willingly - though never without a large amount of fear and terror within their psyche - or by making sure they know their situation is hopeless before she kills them.

      Mentally she displays features of narcissistic personality disorder, though not entirely. She appears to be in need of being thought of as infallible, unbreakable, invincible, indomitable, formidable and inviolable. She displays traits of being intransigent when status is questioned, over-reactive to slights and basic traits of Megalomania such as delusional fantasies of power, relevance, omnipotence, and inflated self-esteem.

      But her mental traits need to be reviewed more closely for two reasons. One is that she really does display features of incredible power that do not appear to be a mere fantasy, perhaps consequently rendering her narcissistic features as natural. It is difficult to say because there are no previous cases of similar nature and it is difficult to predict the behavior of a person that holds so much palpable power over others. Further study needs to be done on the subject.

      The second reason is that she appears to keep some of her victims alive and treats them vastly different from all others. The reasons for that are so far unclear. Superficially, she appears to treat one of them - a male - for entertainment purposes, using him as an audience for her deeds and appearing to respect his opinion on the matter. But there are hints of deeper motivations, though as already stated, so far they remain unclear.

      Nothing is known about her past, but there are indications of a traumatic experience during her childhood which are deeply embedded within her memory, affecting her conscience. So far it is difficult to understand how it could have lead to her becoming who she is without more information.

      And the nature of her powers also remains unclear, the best and only guess is some form of advanced technology that has been so far kept secret from the world. Again, more information is needed.

      “There you have it, your Profile. And if someone had put a such a file in my desk, I would have thought them mad.”

      Maia said nothing, but simply looked at Matthew with her vivid green eyes, blinking occasionally. He absolutely hated it when she took on this expression that made it terribly difficult to read. Where did she learn to do that? The only clue about her mental state right now was the slow tapping of the empty glass, which she still held on her hand, with her index finger. Usually it would indicate nervousness or boredom, but in her case it indicated a state of being deep in thoughts.

      But then she gestured forward with her hand. “Your turn.”

      Matthew frowned. “What? That’s all you’ve got to say?”

      “I said, “ she looked at him sternly. “It’s your turn.”

      Matthew was taken aback. That horrendous feeling of having disappointed her somehow crept up on him. And the worst part was that he couldn’t tell what he did wrong, it could have been anything he had said in the past few minutes, or everything. Thousands of thoughts suddenly raced within his head but he needed to focus, to get a question out of him. And amidst all the chaos in his mind, he picked up something curious he had seen earlier.

      “That… that thing you did with your hand earlier.” He said with a stressed voice. “What was that?”

      She nodded ever so slightly, apparently satisfied with Matthew’s inquiry. She then got up and moved towards the counter with the bottle of wine. “This place, it has a lot interesting technology to play with.” She placed the glass next to it and picked the bottle up, looking at it. “Like the hologram. Manipulating light is very easy to do, creating illusions to the mind of the naive or ignorant is very easy.”

      Then she put the bottle down, and instead waved her hand a single time against the window, making the light beyond dim and then completely disappear, revealing a metallic surface behind the window. The room suddenly went from giving Matthew a feeling of being this beautiful office of a psychiatrist to one that sort of looked like a room deep within a bunker.

      “But this is not technology.” She said as she turned around, looked at Matthew briefly before her eyes continued towards her brunette friend, holding a hand stretched out towards her. The girl’s eyes immediately shot wide open and an expression of horror filled her face.

      “Please, goddess! Please! I beg you! What have I done to deserve it?” She screamed out, pleadingly jumping to her feet towards Maia.

      But then her body went limp in an instant and fell on the floor like a rag doll, her face flatly lined against the wood, facing Matthew. She lost control over it, but Matthew could almost see through, and he thought he saw pain, reminding him of something. But to his horror, her skin suddenly began to shift, move along itself. Her body started twitching violently as the skin formed mesmerizing patterns that began to disappear into nothingness like black holes swallowing stars. Then her whole body began to shrink, slowly losing mass in a way that was too difficult for Matthew to comprehend. Her limbs, her torso, her head, even her hair began to be displaced by emptiness, sort of disintegrating and reintegrating into the same thing, but smaller. Then the process picked up pace and the brunette grew smaller and smaller until she was a mere half of an inch tall before she stopped shrinking and whatever had taken control over her disappeared.

      Then she broke out into a terrible scream.

      Matthew was barely able to hear her, but she instantly recognized it. It was the same scream he had let out earlier. It was the same pain. He was left stunned, shocked at what he had just witnessed. Not just the way it happened, but the very idea of having so much control over someone utterly horrified him, reaffirming his fear even after all that he had seen Maia do.

      “No.” She said while she began to walk towards the shrunken girl. “This is far more than that. This is what separates mere mortals from gods.” Her next step would reach the girl, and she arched it high up, stretching her skirt to its limit. The little girl held her arms up instinctively, but she looked utterly insignificant beneath Maia’s shadow, hopeless in every possible way.

      “This, is true power.” Maia said and brought her foot down with furious strength. The little girl would have been completely obliterated weren’t it for the fact that Maia aimed just to her side. Instead, the force that escaped from Maia’s foot resonated through the air beside the brunette and flung her several dozens of feet on the opposite side from her perspective. She hit the ground hard, but afterwards she looked like she was still alive, though injured in several spots.

      Maia’s gaze lingered upon the tiny girl for several more moments before she took a deep breath and looked at Matthew. “I think it’s enough for today, doctor. Wouldn’t you think so?”

      Matthew still was too stunned to react. But when she stretched the her arm towards him the very same way, he jerked out his emotional confine.

      “No!” Was all he had managed to say before that awful pain overtook him.