Adult-FanFiction.org : Cartoons

Therapy: Three Witches and a Shrink	By : Shaellin Category: +S through Z > Winx Club Views: 7186 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Winx Club, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 1
- 2
Note: The characters Icy, Darcy and Stormy, plus most of the characters they mention, belong to Rainbow S.p.A.. Only the characters Dr. Herbert Foler and Dr. Thaddeus Shreever belong to me.

It was another beautiful day in the virtual meadow, just like every day before. The birds were singing in the trees, butterflies were flitting from flower to flower, the brook was babbling merrily in its streambed, and all the smiling people were out enjoying the sunshine.
For the three witches, Icy, Darcy and Stormy, it was just another day in hell. They hated the clear weather, the chirping birds, the pretty flowers and butterflies, and especially the mindless happy hologram people. The girls didn't hate them so much because they were fake as that they hated not having any power to harm them at all. All of their magical powers were being suppressed by the magical headbands they were forced to wear and unable to remove. They couldn't hurt the birds and butterflies because they were holograms just like all the people here. They could stomp and tear up the flowers all they liked, but the flowers were magically enchanted to grow right back within a few seconds and that got old fast.
They couldn't even harass the virtual people because they were simply prerecorded images performing a variety of fun and leisurely activities on an endless loop. The images wouldn't respond to the witches' taunts and threats; whenever one of them stood in someone's path the hologram simply walked right through her, as though she was the one who wasn't really there. Even Stormy quickly tired of trying to trip the holograms by sticking her foot out in front of them or trying to push one from behind. Heckling the holograms and poking fun at their outfits didn't provide much sport either since the images took no notice of them. Besides, all the holograms wore the same simple robes the witches themselves had been issued when they arrived. It's hard to feel superior to someone else's bad fashion sense when you yourself are wearing the exact same outfit.
Aside from the infuriating boredom of having nothing to do all day except wander aimlessly around the virtual meadow, there were also the hourly audio broadcasts coming from hidden speakers all over the place. Once an hour all of the holograms would stop whatever they were doing and stand around staring up into the sky with vapid smiles on their faces, while a soothing male voice extolled mindless platitudes and positive, uplifting, life-affirming drivel. At these times the simmering resentment the three witches felt would come to a boil. They tried gathering up all the speakers they could find and dumping them in the lake once they found they were unable to break them, but somehow by the next hour the speakers were always back in place where they belonged. It was just one more example of their total and absolute impotence to have any lasting impact on this artificial environment in which they were incarcerated.
The only breaks in the tedium of their existence were mealtimes, when a lovely picnic buffet would magically appear near their current location, and their daily afternoon therapy sessions with Dr. Foler. During the afternoon they would each be taken one at a time to undergo an hour long psychological counseling session where Dr. Foler would ask them endless questions, trying to probe their psyches and get them to reveal the source of their anger, while each witch would, in her own way, fail to cooperate and instead use the session as an opportunity to harass a real live person. Icy would always spend her sessions playing head games with the doctor, while Darcy would alternate between trying to seduce him and ridiculing him for his supposed impotence as a man. Stormy would spend each session screeching and screaming like a banshee while struggling to break free of the restraints her jailors had to strap her down with each time after she had physically assaulted Dr. Foler during her third session with him. After three weeks of this, Dr. Foler had to concede that he just wasn't making any measurable progress with the witches' treatment. That's when things finally started to get interesting for the three girls.
Icy's first hint that something was amiss came when the guards who always escorted them to their therapy sessions took her down a different hallway than usual.
"Hey, what gives? This isn't the way to Dr. Foler's office."
The guard on her left replied without even so much as glancing at her.
"Dr. Foler won't be seeing you anymore. You've got a new therapist now."
Icy raised a skeptical eyebrow and smirked in amusement. If they thought changing eggheads would make any difference they were sadly mistaken. She just hoped they didn't run out of doctors to try on them before the three found a way to bust out of this place. Harassing the shrink was the highlight of their day as long as they were stuck here.
They stopped in front of a door bearing a plaque with the name Dr. Thaddeus Shreever engraved upon it. The guard on Icy's right knocked sharply. When a voice from within bade them enter, he opened the door and stuck his head into the room.
"Doctor, we've brought the first of your three new patients."
The voice that responded from within was thick with self-assurance.
"Ah, very good. Please, send her right in."
The guard on the right stepped back while the guard on the left held the door for Icy. She strode right in without even sparing a glance at the two guards.
Icy glanced around the office as the guards closed the door behind her. The standard appointments were much the same as those in Dr. Foler's office. The shelves full of psychology textbooks and periodicals, the certificates, diplomas and awards hanging on the walls, the comfortable leather chairs and couch, and even the solid oak desk were all very much like the ones Dr. Foler's had. There were, however, a few noticeable differences in the decor. The fish tank was the first thing that caught her eye. Dr. Foler never had one in his office, probably because he was afraid one of his patients would smash it open and kill all the fish. The next were the editions of Witches and Warlocks Monthly sitting on one of the bookshelves, not exactly what Icy would have expected one of the goody-goods here at Light Haven to be reading. It took her a moment before she noticed that the penholder on the doctor's desk was actually a plastic model of a human skull. Taken all together these little clues gave her the impression that this doctor might actually be a little bit different from what she'd come to expect out of a psychologist.
Dr. Shreever himself appeared to be equally out of the ordinary, if not more so. His hair was jet black and shoulder-length with dark blue streaks running back along both sides of his head. He had piercing dark brown eyes and his strong chin was adorned with a well-trimmed goatee that was just starting to show streaks of gray. Unlike the tan robes worn by most people here at Light Haven, his robes were a deep midnight blue. He had his arms resting on the desk in a V formation with the fingers of his left hand wrapped around the knuckles of his right hand. He was tapping his right thumb against his left as he sat there smiling at Icy, waiting for her to finish her appraisal before speaking.
"Not quite what you were expecting, am I? I get that a lot."
Icy crossed her arms, tilted her chin up, and turned her head aside to look at nothing in particular.
"Hmh. You're not all that. Just another overpaid head-shrinker who thinks he's big stuff just because you've got a few extra letters after your name."
Dr. Shreever's grin broadened and he started rubbing his hands together in anticipation.
"Ooo, disdain. I like that. Yes, I can see that you're going to be fun Icy."
Icy turned her head back to stare at the doctor with a hint of curiosity in her eyes.
"'Fun'? Now that's a word I never expected to hear from a psychiatrist."
The doctor clucked his tongue and waggled his finger at Icy.
"Tch tch tch. Psychologist, Icy, not psychiatrist. I'm not licensed to prescribe medication. Don't believe in using the stuff anyway. As for 'fun', don't judge all psychologists by Dr. Foler. That man is so uptight I doubt the word 'fun' is even in his lexicon. Probably wasn't breast-fed as a child."
Icy uncrossed her arms and raised one eyebrow as one corner of her mouth quirked up in the beginnings of an uncertain smile.
"You know Doc, I take it back. You aren't what I was expecting."
Dr. Shreever spread his hands and bowed his head briefly, his earlier grin returning in full force.
"As I said, I get that a lot. Shall we get started?"
Icy glanced at the leather couch by the wall, her expression shifting to a look of mild disgust.
"I suppose this is the part where I lie down and you start asking me all sorts of nosey questions about my childhood while you scribble down notes on your notepad?"
Dr. Shreever raises his eyebrows in mock surprise.
"Am I that predictable? Well, I suppose I could always work on my grocery list another time."
He got up from his chair and moved around to sit on the corner of his desk.
"Actually I'm not much of a traditionalist when it comes to treating my patients. I believe in an individualized approach for each patient. You may lie down, have a seat, remain standing or wander about my office, whichever suits you."
Icy laid a finger beside her chin and gave a thoughtful "Hmm..." as she considered, then strode purposefully around the desk and sat in the chair Dr. Shreever had just vacated.
"How about I just have a seat right here?"
Dr. Shreever clapped his hands together and laughed out loud.
"Very good, Icy! Excellent choice! By all means, sit right there if it pleases you. Your choice speaks volumes to me about your character. It tells me that you are an assertive young lady, attracted to power and with a strong will to dominate. You also like to select the option not presented to you as proof that others can not dictate your choices."
Icy raised an eyebrow.
"It takes a Ph.D. for you to figure that out?"
Dr. Shreever dismissed Icy's jab with a backhanded wave.
"Oh no. I could tell that much without my degree. The Ph.D. just helped me put it into words. Where it will really come in handy is when it comes to figuring out what makes you that way."
Icy picked up a miniature crystal ball, about the size of a golf ball, from it's stand on Dr. Shreever's desk and started rolling it back and forth between her thumb and first two fingers.
"Good luck with that. Dr. Foler tried for three weeks and he never figured it out."
Dr. Shreever drew up one corner of his mouth in a smirk.
"Yes... Well, no disrespect to my esteemed colleague, but Dr. Foler doesn't have the foggiest notion how a witch's mind actually works. He's simply too full of himself to admit that witch psychology is beyond him."
Icy glanced sidelong at the doctor.
"And I suppose you do know how a witch thinks?"
The psychologist picked up a pen and notepad off the desk and began to leaf through his notes.
"I should hope so. After all, I grew up among witches. But enough about me. How are you and your sister witches enjoying your stay here at Light Haven?"
Icy clenched her fist around the crystal ball and glared at him.
"You're the hotshot witch psychologist. You tell me. All of our powers are being suppressed by these stupid headbands, we're stuck in this happy, shiny fantasy land where everything's so fake it's not even funny, we're bombarded with inane platitudes about love and kindness every hour whether we're awake or asleep, we can't even destroy anything except the stupid flowers, and those grow right back in 60 seconds, and you wanna know how we're enjoying our stay? Take a wild guess!"
Dr. Shreever chuckled as he made a notation in his notepad.
"'Subject does not seem to be adjusting well to her environment.' I rather thought as much, but I wanted to hear it in your own words. Your records only reveal just so much about you after all."
Icy released her death grip on the miniature crystal ball and placed it back in its cradle, though she was clearly still somewhat cross.
"Our records? And just what records would those be?"
Dr. Shreever looked up from his notepad, meeting Icy's gaze calmly.
"Oh, just the usual. Your arrest record and your scholastic records. And of course I've been reviewing Dr. Foler's notes since he turned your cases over to me. Not that the old fellow had any particularly useful insights, mind you. Everything he claims he discovered about you three during his sessions I had already gleaned from your records the very first day, before he even started in on you. The three of you are a close-knit trio descended from the coven of witches who first attempted to steal the legendary power known as the Dragonfire and in so doing brought about the destruction of the realm of Sparks. You've not only sought to fulfill their legacy, you actually succeeded in stealing the Dragonfire and used it to raise the Army of Decay, only to be defeated and stripped of the Dragonfire by it's protector, the lost princess of Sparks."
Icy gritted her teeth and growled, her hands clenching into fists.
"Hhrrrr! Bloom! That goody-goody little freshman pixy!"
Dr. Shreever nodded and made a notation in his notepad.
"Yes, Bloom. She seems to figure rather prominently in your records. You made several failed attacks on Bloom and her four friends before successfully acquiring the Dragonfire from her... and even after you took away her single greatest advantage she still managed to defeat you. That must rankle severely in your soul."
Icy leaned back in the doctor's chair and glared at him through narrowed eyes, her arms resting lightly on the arms of the chair.
"Don't think I don't see what you're doing Doc."
The doctor turned his notepad face-down on his lap, casually placing his hands on top of one another atop the notepad, and gazed innocently back at her.
"Please, call me Thaddeus. Tell me, what exactly is it you think that I'm doing?"
Icy mimicked the doctor's casual attitude, crossing her legs under her robe and examining her nails with a bored expression on her face.
"You're needling me, Thad. Poking me where it hurts to see how I'll react."
Dr. Shreever raised his right hand and snapped his fingers with a downward sweep of his hand.
"Drat! You've uncovered my sinister plot. Foiled again."
Icy rolled her eyes and turned her head.
"Oh please! You're no villain. You're not even close."
Dr. Shreever narrowed his eyes dangerously and leaned toward Icy with a wicked grin.
"Don't be so sure of that. Things are not always what they appear."
Icy's eyes went wide for a moment, a startled look crossing her face briefly before relaxing into a mocking grin.
"Nice one Doc. You almost had me going there for a second."
Dr. Shreever sat back and grinned, his former playful attitude returning to the fore.
"Only almost? I suppose I shall have to try harder the next time. Shall we continue?"
Icy settled back in the chair with a smug grin. This Dr. Shreever was going to be fun!
- 1
- 2
You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.You need to be logged in to leave a review for this story.
Report Story

Therapy: Three Witches and a Shrink