Therapy with the Devil (English version).

 

  

Therapy with the Devil (English version)

A Psychotic Comedy in One Act (Set in New York City)

by Benjamin Gavarre

 

Monica is on the verge of a chronic breakdown. After a series of absurd events orchestrated by her neurotic and toxic family, she ends up alone on the streets, vulnerable and desperate. It is in this urban abyss that an elegant seducer of souls named Meph offers her the deal of a lifetime: absolute knowledge and magnetic charisma in exchange for her obedience. What begins as a biting satire on modern anxiety, hipster esotericism, and family hypocrisy soon transforms into a psychological thriller with no escape. Therapy with the Devil is a dark comedy that masterfully plays with the audience's expectations, drawing out bursts of laughter only to freeze them in a chilling descent into the true contemporary hell.

 

 

 

Characters: MIA (her real name is Mary): 20s. A college student on the verge of a chronic breakdown. Survives strictly on sarcasm and anxiety.

UNCLE LEO: 60s. An old-school Woodstock holdover living in deep Brooklyn. Selfish, paranoid, and aggressively lazy.

AUNT GRACE: 70s. Bitter, dramatic, living in a cramped Queens apartment.

MEPH: Age unplaceable. Charismatic, impeccably tailored. A soul seducer with an expensive vibe.

DR. THORNE (Psychiatrist): 40s. Professional, calm. A perfect bedside manner that hides a blood-chilling stillness.

 

 

(SCENE 1 STARTS)

Setting: Dr. Thorne’s office. It is minimalist and pristine. MIA is sitting in a chair across from the doctor’s desk. We join them mid-session.

DR. THORNE ...so, the panic attack was triggered by the visit to your uncle.

MIA It wasn't a "panic attack," doctor. It was a prophecy. He always knows when something bad is about to happen. The last time he told me, "Careful, the wind smells like tragedy," the subway flooded out of nowhere and the grid collapsed.

DR. THORNE (Typing on his tablet) I see. And yet he sent you into the city anyway. On a "dangerous adventure"?

MIA He sent me out as cannon fodder. And his grocery list looked like the inventory of a medieval warlock.

(The lighting shifts. The office fades and we flashback to UNCLE LEO’s kitchen. It’s a chaotic mess of dying plants, mason jars, and old blenders.)

UNCLE LEO (Handing her a rough canvas tote bag, speaking a mile a minute) Write this down, Mia. Mandrake root—the real stuff, not the garbage they sell on the corner. Unrefined sea salt, asafoetida powder, and aspirin... but make sure it’s not imported. The shadow government poisons the foreign ones to numb our willpower.

MIA (Raising an eyebrow, incredulous) Uncle Leo, it’s five in the afternoon. People are losing their minds out there, rush hour traffic is hell, everyone wants to kill you or run you over, and I’m a woman traveling alone… Why don’t you just go tomorrow morning?

UNCLE LEO Are you crazy? The city air is infested with miasmas and curses! Men in gray suits who steal your aura with their death stares. Listen, a piece of advice... If it gets dark... stay the night at your Aunt Grace's place. Bang on the door or yell, because she never wants to open it.

MIA (Horrified) I am not staying with Grace! I’d rather sleep spooning a stray dog.

UNCLE LEO Be careful out there. The city is crawling with energy thieves. They can steal your honor... and your cellular data.

MIA (Rolling her eyes) Yeah, Uncle Leo. I’ll make sure nobody steals my virginity or my spirit. I’m leaving before you ask me for brimstone for your sores.

UNCLE LEO Not brimstone... that attracts demons. Hurry, hurry, the moon is about to rise and I need to get into the fetal position!

MIA Yeah, and I'll just go screw myself. Break a leg, Uncle.

(Mia exits. The flashback fades and we snap back to the office.)

MIA ...and obviously, it got dark.

DR. THORNE And you had no choice but to seek refuge with your aunt.

MIA "Refuge" is a very noble word, doctor. It was like sticking my hand into a pit of vipers... vipers that judge you for your weight and your poor life choices.

(Light shifts. Flashback. MIA, exhausted, rings the doorbell of a gloomy apartment. She sighs).

MIA (To herself) Okay, Mia. Inhale, exhale. It’s just one night. Aunt Grace is a wicked bitch, but it’s just one night, she can’t do that much damage in one night.

(AUNT GRACE opens the door. She’s in a housecoat, wearing a sour expression.)

AUNT GRACE Well, well. Look what the tide brought in.

MIA Hi, Aunt Grace. Uncle Leo sent me...

AUNT GRACE Don't give me your tall tales, you tramp! Did you think you could just show up here unannounced? I bet you fought with my brother again, as usual! Incestuous!

MIA What?! Tramp? Incestuous? Aunt Grace, please, what are you talking about? I just need a place to crash.

AUNT GRACE Oh, "crash"! Sure! That's what you like, roaming the streets, just waiting to get knocked up, you hussy! People have been telling me how you throw yourself at my innocent brother! Jezebel!

MIA Don't talk to me like that! You're sick!

AUNT GRACE The only sick one here is you! Get out of here, you harlot, you two-dollar strumpet! Go find a bridge to sleep under! Go see who picks you up! Don't you dare waste any more of my time, my true crime show is starting!

(AUNT GRACE snatches the grocery bags from Mia and slams the door in her face. Back to the office. Mia’s eyes are watery.)

MIA ...and I was left on the street. Alone, broke, freezing my ass off, with my dignity trampled by insults I didn't even know existed.

 

(SCENE 2)

DR. THORNE That was a profoundly traumatic episode. The scorn of one's own blood is the sharpest knife to the human soul.

MIA Knife is an understatement. I was ready to just lay down and die right there. I went to a concrete park bench to cry it out.

DR. THORNE The concrete park?

MIA Yeah. That’s where I made the biggest mistake of my life.

(Lights go down. A blue spotlight hits MIA sitting on the "bench". Dr. Thorne speaks from the shadows).

DR. THORNE (V.O.) How did he approach you?

MIA Out of nowhere. I was an absolute wreck, and this guy just sits next to me. Flawless. A black suit cut like nothing you'd find in a store, shoes shined like mirrors. He smelled like expensive tobacco and ancient promises.

(MEPH appears. He sits down, crossing his leg with lazy elegance.)

MEPH Bad night for vanity, huh? I see your destiny is in absolute ruins.

MIA (Sniffling) Excuse me? Do I know you?

MEPH Not yet, but you're about to seal the pact of your existence. I’m Meph. Shaper of destinies, architect of earthly glories. I’ve observed your misery and, frankly, your spirit is pathetic.

MIA Look, mister, I am not in the mood for some hustler to try and sell me magic supplements.

MEPH Magic supplements? Please. I don’t offer cheap miracles, I offer absolute glory. A direct ascent to the top of the world. Imagine: the exact words to humiliate that aunt of yours. The charm to make the whole city worship at your feet. Enough gold so you never have to be cold again.

MIA (Sarcastic, raising an eyebrow) Uh-huh. And in exchange for what? I give you my soul?

MEPH (Smiles slowly, eyes gleaming) The soul is just the entry fee, darling. A collateral to ensure your loyalty.

MIA Right. And what’s next? Do I sign a parchment in my own blood?

MEPH Blood is in incredibly poor taste! It makes such a mess. This is an agreement of wills, a gentleman's pact. You just accept the terms of my protection. Oh, and we’ll change your name. "Mia" lacks mystery. We’ll call you, simply... "M."

MIA Give up my name for... ambition? What asylum did you escape from?

MEPH (His voice drops, losing the seductive tone. The air feels heavy) Don’t get it twisted. You were the one who called. You cried on this bench begging the heavens, the universe, the void for mercy. And heaven is famous for its dead silence. I actually listen to the desperate. Do we have a deal or do I leave you here to freeze to death?

(Mia looks at him. She shivers, swallowing hard).

MIA ...I accept.

MEPH (Claps softly, triumphant) Exquisite decision! By the way, the pact includes a minor carnal obligation. You’ll be sharing my bed.

MIA What?! You didn't mention that!

MEPH Tributes of the flesh, sweetheart. Welcome to eternity... M.

(Meph snaps his fingers. A gust of wind. We snap back to the bright light of the office).

DR. THORNE M.

MIA (Blinking, snapping back to reality) What?

DR. THORNE You said he christened you M. Why not Mary, which is your given name?

MIA Because pronouncing "Mary" made him nauseous. He was allergic to anything that sounded like purity or redemption.

DR. THORNE (Writing slowly) Allergic to redemption. Fascinating.

 

(SCENE 3)

MIA And the worst part, doctor, is that his damn magic worked. Overnight I wasn't just brilliant... I was omniscient. Meph downloaded an entire library into my brain.

DR. THORNE (Writing in his notebook, not looking at her) Absolute knowledge. Most human beings would pay any price for that.

MIA Because they don't know what it is! Look at me, doctor. Just by seeing the asymmetry in the knot of your tie and the slight dilation of your pupils, I could recite a treatise on Lacanian psychoanalysis, cross-reference it with quantum physics, and end by quoting Baudelaire in old French to explain to you exactly why you are unhappy. I know everything. The entire universe reduced to a cheap parlor trick.

DR. THORNE (Looks up slowly, unbothered) Sounds like you became an extraordinarily fascinating woman.

MIA I became an exotic animal. His show pony.

(The lighting in the office shifts subtly. A blue spotlight isolates Mia in her chair. From the shadows, MEPH emerges, pacing slowly behind her with the elegance of a predator. Mia keeps speaking to Thorne, but is trapped in the memory.)

MIA I paraded through luxury galas, gallery openings, ambassador dinners. I was his ventriloquist dummy. He pulled the strings and I vomited philosophy and charm tailored to whoever the victim of the night was.

MEPH (Stopping right behind her, whispering in her ear while caressing the back of her chair) Straighten your back, M. The culture minister is staring at you. When he walks over, I want you to destroy his latest essay on postmodernism. Humiliate him. Make him question his own existence, but with a smile so perfect it leaves him begging for more.

MIA (Speaking forward, through gritted teeth, not looking at Meph) I'm tired, Meph. I haven't slept in three weeks. My feet are bleeding from these heels and I'm disgusted hearing my own voice recite things I don't even care about.

MEPH (Strokes her shoulder, possessive and cold) Exhaustion is for mortals who take the subway, darling. You are a high-yield investment. And tonight, after you dazzle these idiots in suits, we’re going up to the penthouse. You know the contract requires... physical maintenance. The tribute of the flesh doesn't pay itself.

(Meph’s presence steps back into the shadows. We return fully to the office dynamic.)

MIA It was trafficking, doctor! Soul trafficking, human trafficking, call it whatever you want. Absolute slavery perfumed with champagne and designer suits. My body and mind were hijacked. I felt intellectually violated every time he forced me to speak his words.

DR. THORNE A total loss of personal agency. The annulment of the "self". And yet, you endured it for quite some time.

MIA (Furious, clenching her fists) Seven years! Seven years of being his high-end escort, his walking encyclopedia, and his bed trophy. Putting up with his demands, his suffocating ego, and his snoring—because yes, the damn demon of elegance snores like a busted engine. Until one day, I just couldn't take it anymore. I felt like if he forced me to quote Schopenhauer one more time to please his banker friends, I was going to rip my own skin off in strips.

(The light focuses back on Meph and Mia. Meph approaches, holding two invisible crystal glasses.)

MEPH Go on, M. Out to the terrace. There are a couple of senators who need you to explain why Judeo-Christian morality is an obstacle to the free market. Go make them fall in love with you. You're my masterpiece.

MIA (Stands up abruptly, facing Meph for the first time) No. The show is over.

MEPH (Smiles, condescending, taking a sip from his invisible glass) Oh, honey. The puppets don't get to decide when the curtain drops. Walk.

MIA I am not your hellish escort! You sold me the seven liberal arts, you promised me control over my life, and you just use me as an ornament for your egomaniac frat parties. I'm done! I'm sick of being your slave, sick of your voice in my head, and I'm sick of you!

MEPH (The seductive tone vanishes entirely; his voice becomes deep, threatening) Keep your voice down, human. You are my property. You signed with your desperation and you pay with your obedience. If I tell you to dance, you dance. If I tell you to speak, you speak. You have no will of your own.

MIA (Defiant, inches from Meph's face, spitting the words) Then take me to court, you astral pimp. Because starting today, you don't have a doll anymore.

(Mia turns back forward, turning her back on Meph. The office light tries to return, but the atmosphere is stained a dark, dense red. Mia stares intently at Dr. Thorne.)

MIA That was it, doctor. I realized that arguing with the employee of the month wasn't going to terminate the contract. I decided to go over his head. I summoned upper management. The owner of the circus.

(Mia looks up at the ceiling of the office, raising her arms, screaming with a mix of madness and absolute desperation.)

MIA (AS MEMORY) No more middlemen! I want to speak to the King of Shadows! Let the Master himself show his face! I want to cancel this damn subscription!

MEPH (Seized by panic and profound indignation, grabbing her arm) What are you doing, you lunatic?! Trying to jump the chain of command to speak to the Devil himself is incredibly poor taste. I am your owner, you answer to me!

MIA (Yanking her arm free violently) I called for the best! And I don't want to be your slave anymore! I renounce the deal, I don't want deals with you or with the Virgin Mary!

(At the words "Virgin Mary", MEPH shudders as if struck by lightning. He drops to his knees, writhing.)

MEPH What... what did you say? Don't say that!

MIA (Realizing the power she just discovered) The Virgin Mary! MARY, MARY, MARY! That is my real name, you piece of scum!

MEPH (Backing away, in agony, crawling while his flawless suit begins to smoke and smell like burning flesh) You broke the name clause! That damn name burns my insides!

(Meph vanishes amidst a guttural shriek and a thick cloud of smoke. Mia remains standing, breathing heavily. The red light vanishes instantly, reverting to the unforgiving, white coldness of Dr. Thorne’s office. Mia collapses into her chair, exhausted, but with a half-smile of triumph.)

(END OF SCENE 3)

 

(SCENE 4 - THE END)

MIA (Still breathing heavily, but sporting a smile of genuine victory. She settles into the chair, relaxing her shoulders for the first time in the entire play) And that was it. Up in smoke. I banished him myself, doctor. Turns out the great and terrifying demon couldn't stand to hear my real name. I realized that my will is mine. I don't have to answer to any monster in a tailored suit, or to any bitter aunt, or to my uncle. I am free.

(DR. THORNE does not respond immediately. The only sound in the office is the dry, ceaseless scratching of his pen on paper. The white, clinical light of the room seems to grow slightly colder, almost antiseptic).

DR. THORNE (Without looking up from his notes, his voice a perfectly modulated whisper) "Free." A fascinating word. Etymologically complex, biologically improbable, and, from a psychiatric standpoint... a charming illusion.

MIA (Her smile fades slightly. She frowns) An illusion? Doctor, I just told you I broke a demonic pact. I regained my agency. I'm going to study. Pure sciences. Cellular biology, neurology. Something real, tangible. No more mysticism or liberal arts.

DR. THORNE (Closes his notebook with a sharp snap that echoes off the walls. He looks up. His face is a marble mask) A sensible choice. Replacing one belief system with another. Trading magic for the microscope. Quitting as a slave to hell to become a slave to academia. At the end of the day, human beings are always looking for a more comfortable cage, don't you agree, Mia?

MIA (Unsettled by his tone, she tries to stand up from the chair, but a strange heaviness makes her hesitate) I... I don't see it as a cage. It's knowledge. It's sanity. You yourself told me I need to take control.

DR. THORNE And you have. It's an extraordinary clinical triumph. Chasing away that... (he pauses, finding the exact word with millimeter precision) that noisy charlatan Meph. He was always so theatrical. An errand boy with delusions of grandeur.

(Mia freezes mid-motion. The silence becomes thick, almost suffocating).

MIA (Her voice trembling just a little) What did you call him?

DR. THORNE (Smiles, but his eyes remain completely dead and fixed on her) A delusion of grandeur. A defense mechanism of your psyche to cope with the trauma. Your mind created an elegant villain to justify your submission. And today, you have defeated him.

MIA (Swallowing hard, trying to convince herself she misheard) Yes. Yes, exactly. It was a delusion. It was all in my head. I finally understand. I feel ready to go home now, doctor.

(Mia tries to stand up again. This time she manages, but her legs are strangely weak. She grabs her purse).

DR. THORNE Not so fast. We are missing the final step to consolidate this... freedom. (The doctor slowly opens his desk drawer. The scrape of the wood sounds deafening. He pulls out a small, dark glass bottle with no label, and extracts a single red pill. He places it on the desk next to a glass of water). You are going to take your medication. It's a new formula. Specially designed for your case.

MIA (Staring at the pill, the anxiety she thought was dead starts crawling up her throat. She takes a step back) A new formula? But... I'm already fine. I cured myself. I don't hear voices anymore. I don't want pills that cloud my mind.

DR. THORNE (His voice doesn't alter, remaining a straight line of professional calm) Mia. You know how this works. Cutting off treatment abruptly causes relapses. Do you want to go back to the park bench? Do you want to feel empty again, at the mercy of charlatans dictating how you live? Take it. I guarantee you, with this, your mind will be left in absolute, perfect stillness.

(Mia looks at the pill. She looks at the office door. It looks miles away. Thorne’s clinical logic clashes with Mia’s primitive instinct, which is screaming at her to run).

MIA And the side effects? No nightmares? No yellow-eyed demons?

DR. THORNE No demon will ever bother you again. You have my word. Trust me, as you have for these past seven years.

(Mia, defeated by the ruthless authority of the white coat and routine, steps up to the desk. Her fingers tremble. She takes the pill and the glass. She puts it in her mouth and drinks the water. She swallows with difficulty. Instantly, a sensation of absolute absolute cold washes down her esophagus, paralyzing her peripheral muscles).

MIA (Sets the glass on the desk. Her hands feel like lead) Done. It's done. Doctor...

(Mia tries to walk toward the door, but her knees won't respond. She drops heavily back into the patient's chair).

MIA What... what is in this? I feel heavy. I can't stand up.

DR. THORNE (Stands up. His movements are agonizingly slow, fluid, as if time doesn't exist for him. He rests both hands on the desk. The light in the room begins to dim, leaving a single pale beam on Mia). It's stillness, Mia. The true cure.

MIA (Panic dilates her pupils. She looks into Thorne's eyes and realizes he hasn't blinked a single time the entire session). You... You never told me your first name, doctor. It's always just... Thorne. And how did you know Meph's name? I never told you his name today. I only said "he".

DR. THORNE (Forms an icy smile. His shadow projects massive, monstrous, creeping up the walls and covering the ceiling of the office) My name is irrelevant. My earthly titles are... Thorne. Dr. Thorne. Surgeon, specialist in psychiatry. But you know me by many other names.

MIA (Her breathing turns shallow. She can't move her arms. She tries to scream, but her voice comes out as a broken whisper) No, no, no... You're a psychiatrist. You're a man of science.

DR. THORNE (His voice changes, losing the clinical tone and acquiring a deep, archaic resonance, like the echo of an infinite cavern) Did you honestly believe today's hell is a place with brimstone and boiling cauldrons? Please. The twenty-first century requires more efficient methods. Why buy souls at a crossroads when you can medicate them? Why use the cheap seduction of a subordinate like Meph, when you can cancel people's willpower by prescribing them "sanity"?

MIA (Crying silently, paralyzed in the chair, comprehending the magnitude of her mistake) I... I summoned the boss. On the roof...

DR. THORNE (Nods slowly, with a terrifying courtesy) Exactly. "I want to speak to the King of Shadows!" you screamed. "Let the Master himself show his face!". And here I am. I kept the appointment punctually at our Tuesday six o'clock session. And you, on your own two feet, just swallowed the permanence clause.

(The doctor walks around the desk and leans over her. His eyes now shine with an unfathomable malice, an absolute blackness, devoid of any empathy or theatricality. It is pure, corporate, institutionalized evil).

DR. THORNE You thought that by defeating your astral pimp you were free. But Meph was just the distraction. The true hell is this chair that you will never, ever be able to stand up from. It is the certainty, the terrifying certainty, that your brilliant mind is going to be trapped inside your own skull, awake, conscious, but unable to articulate a single word for the rest of eternity.

(Thorne raises a perfectly clean, manicured hand, and gently tucks a lock of hair behind her ear. The touch is so cold that the tear freezes on Mia's cheek).

MIA (Eyes wide with absolute, mute terror, she opens her mouth to scream, but only monosyllables escape, barely words). No, no... I...

DR. THORNE I don't buy souls with cheap talk, little one. I medicate them. I put them to sleep forever. You are going to feel so much better... Mary.

(The shadow of Dr. Thorne envelops her completely. The doctor's smile freezes into a mask of absolute terror). (The light snaps off, leaving only the echo of an icy sigh).

 

TOTAL BLACKOUT.

END