by George Thomas
Tomoyuki Tomita was a nervous wreck, pacing and fidgeting as Doctor Mizuno
penned the customary illegible scrawl that supplied him with his monthly
renewal of medications: Halcyon, Darvon, Prozac, Quaaludes and Demerol.
Depressants, anti-depressants, barbiturates, amphetamines, anti-psychotics,
even various placebos. Over the years, Tommy had taken them all, yet none
of them served to quell the nameless dread that plagued him.
"Alright, Tommy," Mizuno called, calm and condescending. "Looks like we're
done for today. Now, are you sure there's nothing specific you'd like to
talk to me about?"
Tommy shook his head in negative response. "N, no, doctor."
"Alright then, Tommy. Try to relax. You know my advice regarding your nebulous
fears all too well."
He nodded agreement, his gaze darting anxiously about the room. "H, hai,
"It's been nearly eight months since you were released from the sanitarium
and referred to my office. Eight long months. I hate to admit that I cannot
cure your paranoid delusions or your chronic anxiety but we have succeeded
in managing them to a great degree, true?"
Tommy was not so sure of that. In his rare moments of full cognizance,
he had considered consulting a different physician, one less reliant upon
the kind of extreme chemical therapies he had been subjected to while in
Mizuno's care. His response was a quick, forced smile.
"T, the pills don't help as much... anymore."
The doctor sighed in grim resignation. "I know, Tommy. You've developed
a high tolerance to most conventional treatments. That's why I mix them
up and keep the prescriptions a little different every month. The colors
are always the same though, right? The yellow pills to calm you down, the
red ones to help you sleep, the green ones to perk you up."
Tommy half-listened to the standard, familiar diatribe. His attention,
as usual, was diverted; distracted by the subtlest of movements and sounds.
The doctor could only compensate with closed doors and drawn blinds. Habitually,
almost compulsively, Tommy would go to the office's small single window
and peek out through the dusty vinyl slats. Today, something was different.
Tommy could hear noises, strange and frightening and not too far away.
Light and shadow played menacingly between the barely visible gaps of the
blinds. He cringed, startled by what sounded like a distant eruption or
explosion. A tremor shook the office, catching the doctor's attention as
well. The lights flickered, dimmed and then died.
"Doctor..." Tommy called in the darkness, seeking confirmation of the phenomena.
"A tremor, Tommy. Just a minor quake," Mizuno surmised. "We have emergency
generators here. They should kick in any minute."
Tommy had felt earthquakes before. Another impact and the sound of a distant
blast convinced him this was something else, something horrible that he
had to see. A far too familiar dread rose as he moved to the window and
reached shakily for the drawstring....
"Doctor Mizuno!" The office door was flung wide and an attendant rushed
"Hideki," Mizuno half-shouted. "I've told you never to burst in on a session!
"Doctor, there was a broadcast before the power went out... I think we
are under attack!" the woman cried and turned to join her fleeing coworkers.
The darkened office filled with daylight as Tommy opened the blinds. Great
plumes of smoke were rising to the east, as if the harbor district was
on fire. The doctor rose to share the view and they watched as the black
clouds parted and a massive reptilian horror emerged.
"Gojira," Tommy gasped as the beast appeared. "Gojira..." He watched as
the mammoth monster's dorsal plates flashed with radioactive light. He
saw the deadly beam of Atomfire burst from its jaws, blasting the surrounding
structures into rubble. Then Tommy closed his eyes, gazing inward. He listened
as the monster howled a war cry of rage, a cry that resonated with something
deep within him, something nameless and inescapable that haunted the edge
of his consciousness for far too long.
"Gojira." Finally, Tommy realized his 'paranoid delusion' had a name. With
a final look at the gargantuan daikaiju rampaging on the horizon, Tommy
calmly turned away from the window. For the first time in years, he felt
strangely relaxed and at peace. The lurking horror he had harbored within
himself had been externalized and defined as clear as the light of day.
The feeling was liberating and Tommy exulted in a clarity of thought he
had not experienced in a very long time.
Before him lay Doctor Mizuno, collapsed upon his office floor. The man
seemed to have crumbled at the sight of the monster. He now crawled to
a corner of the room, gesturing wildly and unable to articulate the mind-numbing
fear that gripped his heart and fragmented all content of his once orderly
mind. Tommy could see in his eyes he was on the verge of madness.
With a sigh, Tommy strode to Mizuno's desk, gathering his prescriptions
and the doctor's bottle of Perrier. He approached Mizuno and placed each
item in turn on the floor in front of him.
"The yellow ones to calm you down. The red ones to help you sleep. The
green ones to perk you up." The Doctor cringed in abject fear. Spittle
flecked his chin and his shirt. His trousers were soaked with urine. Slowly,
Tommy uncapped the water and the container of red pills. The muted sound
of distant explosions shook the room as Tommy, now strong and whole, rose
"About next week," he spoke from the doorway. "I think it's probably best
if we reschedule."