The Sphinx
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The Sphinx
@sphinxprofiler.bsky.social
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The Sphinx, physiologist in the clinic during the day, criminal hunter the rest o the time using information she gets from her former convicts patients.
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Death becomes her

If I had a nickel for every time I found myself crouching in a darkened corner, contemplating the ugly truths of the human psyche, I’d have a small fortune

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Death becomes her
If I had a nickel for every time I found myself crouching in a darkened corner, contemplating the ugly truths of the human psyche, I’d have a small fortune. Instead, I have a cat with a gift for di…
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January 16, 2026 at 9:27 AM
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Croissants of the damned

Sniper blinks. Translation: Says the woman with hidden daggers and a Ducati.

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Croissants of the damned
Journal Entry — 2:17 a.m.If there’s a hell for carbs, it smells like butter and regret. Sniper is judging me from the kitchen counter, tail wrapped like a question mark. He does this when he thinks…
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January 10, 2026 at 10:51 AM
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Allegro Mortis

Sniper approves of the wardrobe. He does not approve of my sleep schedule. “Don’t look at me like that,” I told him, shrugging into my jacket.

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Allegro Mortis
By day, I’m Dr. Yoofi Akerman, clinic psychologist. PhD on the wall, ficus by the window, a kettle that screams like it’s seen things. By night, I become a woman in elegant black with opinions abou…
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January 4, 2026 at 12:01 PM
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Mirror, mirror… you’re dead

The rain slicked streets reflected the neon signs like broken glass shards on water.

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Mirror, mirror… you’re dead
The rain slicked streets reflected the neon signs like broken glass shards on water. I tugged my collar up, trying to ignore the way the cold seeped into my bones. Sniper, my feline accomplice and …
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December 27, 2025 at 10:27 AM
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Reflections in a glass coffin

The call from Martin Flores yesterday still stings. “Yoofi,” he said in that syrupy, bureaucratic drone, “I’ve got a… situation. Something delicate.”

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Reflections in a glass coffin
6:17 a.m. Coffee tastes like regret today. Not the bitter kind I enjoy in the mornings—the kind that sticks to your gut and whispers, someone’s going to die, and it’s probably before lunch. Sniper,…
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December 22, 2025 at 9:09 AM
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Sharp ink, sharper teeth

It was raining again. Typical. The kind of rain that makes the city streets slick, the neon puddles glow, and everyone suddenly a suspect in my mind.

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Sharp ink, sharper teeth
It was raining again. Typical. The kind of rain that makes the city streets slick, the neon puddles glow, and everyone suddenly a suspect in my mind. I stood under the awning of Café Mistral, black…
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December 18, 2025 at 7:43 PM
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Strings attached

You know that feeling when the world smells faintly of pizza but tastes like ashes? Yeah, that’s my life on a Monday morning. But today? Today it smells like murder.

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Strings attached
You know that feeling when the world smells faintly of pizza but tastes like ashes? Yeah, that’s my life on a Monday morning. But today? Today it smells like murder. I sip my black coffee, extra bi…
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December 13, 2025 at 10:43 AM
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Brushstrokes of death

If anyone asks me how my week went, I’ll tell them “fine.” Technically true, if you ignore the stack of corpses.

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Brushstrokes of death
If anyone asks me how my week went, I’ll tell them “fine.” Technically true, if you ignore the stack of corpses, the claw marks on my Jaguar, and the lingering smell of eau-de-blood on my favorite …
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December 8, 2025 at 9:51 AM
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The Houdini code

I never liked mornings. Mostly because the sun insists on reminding me I have a beating heart.

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The Houdini code
I never liked mornings. Mostly because the sun insists on reminding me I have a beating heart. And hearts are overrated. But there I was, perched on the edge of my black leather couch, Sniper stret…
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December 3, 2025 at 11:19 AM
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Jury’s last verdict

If I wanted to relax, I’d take a bath. With candles. And maybe some of that overpriced lavender soap that smells like regret.

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Jury’s last verdict
If I wanted to relax, I’d take a bath. With candles. And maybe some of that overpriced lavender soap that smells like regret. But instead, here I am, perched on the edge of my black leather couch, …
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November 27, 2025 at 10:49 AM
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The last hand of the mob

Sniper thinks I’m crazy. He’s curled on the window sill like some judgmental sphinx, tail flicking every time I sigh. But the truth? He’s right. I probably am.

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The last hand of the mob
Sniper thinks I’m crazy. He’s curled on the window sill like some judgmental sphinx, tail flicking every time I sigh. But the truth? He’s right. I probably am. The city sleeps in neon smears and ci…
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November 5, 2025 at 8:20 AM
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Nine lives and a bullet

By the time I slid my hand around the mug, my phone buzzed. One message. Two words. “They know.”

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Nine lives and a bullet
I woke to Sniper sitting on my chest, tail flicking like a tiny metronome of judgment. His green eyes bore into mine as if to say, You think you’re smarter than the city. Cute. “Coffee first,” I mu…
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November 1, 2025 at 9:39 AM
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Lazarus edition

I swear, if life had a snooze button, I’d have smashed it into oblivion years ago. Today, my clinic smelled like burnt coffee and broken dreams.

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Lazarus edition
I swear, if life had a snooze button, I’d have smashed it into oblivion years ago. Today, my clinic smelled like burnt coffee and broken dreams. By night, it smelled like blood, gunpowder, and some…
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October 27, 2025 at 8:42 AM
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Death in D minor

I woke up to Sniper kneading my stomach like a tiny, furry assassin demanding breakfast or a confession. I gave him both.

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Death in D minor
I woke up to Sniper kneading my stomach like a tiny, furry assassin demanding breakfast or a confession. I gave him both.“Fine,” I said, staring at his judgmental yellow eyes. “I screwed up. Again.…
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October 22, 2025 at 8:17 AM
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The cat, the corpse, and the Jag

The thing about murderers is they always smell faintly of arrogance. Like cheap aftershave and regret.

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The cat, the corpse, and the Jag
The thing about murderers is they always smell faintly of arrogance. Like cheap aftershave and regret. Today started with a group therapy session. Convicts, ex-cons, the occasional sociopath who th…
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October 16, 2025 at 8:03 AM
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Kiss of death, cherry red

Sniper, my cat, glared at me from the counter like he knew I’d forgotten to refill his gourmet tuna stash. He blinked once.

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Kiss of death, cherry red
Morning started with coffee strong enough to dissolve a spoon. Sniper, my cat, glared at me from the counter like he knew I’d forgotten to refill his gourmet tuna stash. He blinked once. Judging. C…
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October 9, 2025 at 8:39 AM
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Knives, Lies, and Feline Alibis

You ever smell cotton candy, diesel exhaust, and unresolved trauma in the same room? That’s how I knew my Thursday was about to go full tilt.

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Knives, Lies, and Feline Alibis
Entry 91 – If it smells like popcorn and gun oil, it’s not a date. You ever smell cotton candy, diesel exhaust, and unresolved trauma in the same room? That’s how I knew my Thursday was about to go…
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October 2, 2025 at 7:43 AM
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Nine lives and a Sniper

I always thought the day would end with chamomile tea and reruns of The X-Files.

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Nine lives and a Sniper
I always thought the day would end with chamomile tea and reruns of The X-Files. Instead, I’m bleeding onto the marble floor of a tech tycoon’s penthouse, cradling a USB stick in one hand and Snipe…
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September 25, 2025 at 8:09 AM
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Ink in the Shadows

I hate paperwork. And I hate small talk. But here I am, Yoofi Akerman, ex-FBI profiler turned daytime shrink for ex-convicts who probably think therapy is a setup for a con.

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September 18, 2025 at 9:11 AM
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Dead Men’s Toys

I’m Yoofi Akerman, and yes, I know what you’re thinking, ex-FBI profiler turned shrink-for-convicts sounds like a midlife crisis with a badge.

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Dead Men’s Toys
Yoofi’s JournalI’m Yoofi Akerman, and yes, I know what you’re thinking, ex-FBI profiler turned shrink-for-convicts sounds like a midlife crisis with a badge. But that’s me, by day I’m unmasking the…
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September 11, 2025 at 9:13 AM
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Dolls, Death, and Dirty Secrets

6:45 AM. Coffee. Black, no sugar, just like my soul after reading Flores’s latest memo about budget cuts.

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Dolls, Death, and Dirty Secrets
Yoofi’s Journal – Day 16:45 AM. Coffee. Black, no sugar, just like my soul after reading Flores’s latest memo about budget cuts. I swear, that man’s idea of leadership is as crooked as a candy cane…
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September 4, 2025 at 7:45 AM
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Tick-Tock, Heartstop

It was the kind of summer night that smelled like bad decisions and burnt brake pads.

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Tick-Tock, Heartstop
Journal Entry #14 — Yoofi Akerman11:04 p.m. It was the kind of summer night that smelled like bad decisions and burnt brake pads. I was parked outside a crumbling halfway house in East Highland, si…
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August 28, 2025 at 8:59 AM
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Low Beams

I’d made peppermint tea, taken off my boots, and had just started reading a paper on nocturnal delusions in sleep-deprived psychopaths.

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Low Beams
Monday, 12:17 a.m.Location: Third and Mercer, under the burnt-out amber glow of an old sodium streetlamp.Mood: Suspicious. My cat just tried to smother me with his tail. *       *       *       *  …
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August 22, 2025 at 9:08 AM
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Chapter & Curse

Let’s begin with the fact that my cat, Sniper, peed on my latest patient file. Again.
His message was clear: “This guy’s lying.”

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Chapter & Curse
Monday, 9:17 a.m. – My Office, East End Clinic, Above a Laundromat That Smells Like Regret Let’s begin with the fact that my cat, Sniper, peed on my latest patient file. Again.His message was clear…
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August 17, 2025 at 8:27 AM
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Hourglass hemoglobin and distractions

Sniper, my self-declared fur-covered therapist, is perched on the kitchen counter, tail flicking like she’s judging my caffeine choices.

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Hourglass hemoglobin and distractions
Journal Entry: Thursday, 11:43 PM – Somewhere Between Too Late and Should’ve Stayed in Bed There’s blood in my espresso. Correction: there shouldn’t be blood in my espresso, but after your third co…
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August 10, 2025 at 8:39 AM