"And why should I grant you that request, Kyle?" a man wearing a doctor's coat asked while sitting opposite Kyle.
"I just wanna swing it," Kyle said, trying his best not to subconsciously struggle against the straightjacket he was wearing. "Come on, doc. You can strap a pillow to it and make it out of cardboard or something. What am I gonna do? Something like that isn't a weapon, and you can also put like five people in the room with me when I swing it. The worst thing I can do is bonk someone on the head with a pillow, and the handle would break under the stress anyway."
The psychiatrist looked at Kyle with worry. "Why do you want to swing a hammer so badly, Kyle?"
"I feel like I have to," Kyle answered. "I feel like something important will happen if I swing it."
The psychiatrist just kept looking at Kyle with uncertainty. "Kyle, are you keeping secrets from me?"
"Not knowingly, no," Kyle said, shrugging through his straightjacket. "Ask me anything, and I will answer honestly."
The psychiatrist sighed. "Kyle, I know I've asked this question before, but I just want to hear your answer again. On that day, nine weeks ago, why did you break your own fingers?"
"I wanted to know if I was dreaming," Kyle answered casually. "I mean, everyone knows you can't feel pain in a dream, so I wanted to see if I could feel pain."
"And did you feel any pain, Kyle?" the psychiatrist asked.
"A little after I broke it," Kyle said, "but it was like way too weak. Breaking a finger is supposed to hurt like a motherfucker, right? Why would it only hurt so little? As you guys would say, the results of the experiment were inconclusive."
"That is why you broke your second finger as well, Kyle?" the psychiatrist asked as he wrote something on a notepad.
"Yeah, I had to be sure," Kyle answered casually.
The psychiatrist nodded as he made more notes. "And why did you resist the officers, Kyle?"
"That is debatable," Kyle answered. "They kept telling me to go to the ground, while I just stood there, asking what I have done wrong. Like, how's that a reason to arrest me? I know my rights! I didn't commit a crime!"
At that moment, Kyle heard some steps from behind him.
"Sorry for my volume," he said, leaning back in his chair.
The psychiatrist looked over Kyle's shoulder and gave a reassuring nod.
Then, Kyle heard more steps, but these ones were retreating.
"Kyle, you were a danger to yourself and maybe others," the psychiatrist said. "It's law enforcement's duty to prevent bodily harm."
Kyle wanted to roll his eyes so bad, but he resisted. "Sure, whatever. They could've also just talked to me instead of constantly just shouting at me to get to the ground. I'm a human, you know? You can talk to me."
"Kyle, they do not know you," the psychiatrist said calmly. "They only saw a person who had just broken two of their fingers and didn't even seem to care or notice. If you saw someone like that, you would probably also become worried."
Kyle's right sleeve bulged a bit as he unsuccessfully tried to scratch the side of his head.
"I mean, kinda? Maybe? Everything is kinda weird. I feel like I should be worried about such a person, but for some reason, I'm not," Kyle answered.
The psychiatrist nodded as he made more notes.
"Have you been in many fights, Kyle?" he asked.
"A few when I was in my teens, but I lost more than I won," he answered with another shrug.
The psychiatrist frowned. "Kyle, I want you to be honest with me."
Kyle just looked at the psychiatrist with surprise. "I am honest!"
The psychiatrist shook his head. "Kyle, the reports stated that you were very agile and controlled in your movements. None of the officers received any injuries, but it still took five officers over ten minutes to get you to the ground. You managed to keep five officers busy in a physical altercation, Kyle. Something like this doesn't just appear."
"But it's the truth!" Kyle said with a raised voice, eliciting some approaching steps from behind him. "Literally ask anyone who knows me! Anyone! I swear, I didn't lie!"
Kyle could feel someone standing right behind him.
The psychiatrist looked into Kyle's eyes with an evaluating gaze.
"Do you still believe this is a dream, Kyle?" the psychiatrist asked.
"Yep," Kyle answered.
Surprisingly, the psychiatrist didn't take any notes.
"Why do you believe this is a dream, Kyle?" he asked.
"Because everything is so weird," Kyle answered. "It's like… everyone's so distant. It's like something crucial is missing. It's like I forgot something really important. If I could just remember, it would be so much easier."
The psychiatrist nodded as he made some notes. "And you believe swinging a hammer will help you remember, Kyle?"
Kyle nodded. "Yep, I'm sure of it! If I can just touch one, I know something important will happen."
"What if nothing happens, Kyle?" the psychiatrist asked.
Kyle shrugged. "Guess you win, then. This is reality, and I'm not dreaming."
The psychiatrist raised a brow. "Kyle, are you claiming that simply having a hammer in your hand will help you come to terms with reality?"
"Pretty sure, yeah," he answered.
The psychiatrist looked at his notes for a while.
"I'll see what I can do, Kyle," he said.
"Thanks, doc!" Kyle shouted with an excited smile.
The psychiatrist looked at Kyle for a while. "Kyle, thank you for your time. Our next appointment is in three days. If you need anything, feel free to call the staff."
Kyle smiled and very slowly stood up. "Thanks! I will! See ya!"
Then, he turned around and saw a very tall and wide man standing in front of him.
The tall man nodded, stepped to the door, and opened it for Kyle.
Kyle just nodded towards the man and walked past him. Of course, the man walked after Kyle.
The man led Kyle through a couple of corridors, unlocking several doors on the way, and brought him back to his room.
It had taken Kyle almost three weeks to earn the privilege of having a room. Well, technically, he had already had a room in the first three weeks, but he hadn't been able to move.
They had just strapped him to a wheelchair, keeping his arms and legs fixed.
Of course, from time to time, he had still been allowed to stretch his legs for a bit, but only under supervision.
As Kyle entered his room, he just jumped onto a random pillow.
His room was filled with pillows, which was pretty nice and comfy.
Sadly, they weren't very bouncy.
Apparently, the staff had been worried that he would ram his head against the wall to test if he was still dreaming.
After putting Kyle back into his room, the big man left.
Several minutes later, a person looked through the padded bars in the small opening of Kyle's door.
"Look who's back in his room," the man said with a crazy laugh.
"It's the strongest Hammer God!"
(He did it, he said the line!)
tg://resolv?domain=StrongestHammerGod
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