AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was originally written for a writing contest on the MCforums site. The idea was to take a popular movie and base a work of mind control fiction off a premise or plot device in the movie. I won't mention which movie it is, but if you spot it and see a similar theme, this is intentional. Please, no "you ripped off..." emails. This is NOT fan-fiction. The plot and characters are entirely my own creation.
Yeah, fine, don't stop, you fucker. I'm a serial killer. I'm a rapist. I'm some bum that's gonna carjack you soon as you stop. I broke out of the mental ward. I'm a psycho off his meds. I'm a druggie looking for my next crack fix.
I probably look exactly like any of those. I wouldn't stop for me either.
Hey, you know what's really freakin' hilarious? Get this: I'm more dangerous than any of them put together. So how come I'm left walking the side of the road in a dirty trench coat, three days of growth on my face, in need of a shower and a meal, trying to thumb a ride from anyone that's dumb enough to stop for me?
Because either they didn't finish the programming, or I'm just a dumbfuck after all.
A truck comes up behind me. He doesn't stop either. Or the minivan after him. Hell, he sped up when he saw me. Had a load of kids. Yeah, I probably look like a pedophile, too. Amazing what people fill in when they have little information to go on.
Problem is, I'm getting frustrated. I get frustrated, I get tense. I get tense, I start bursting. Goddamn. I really am a dumbfuck. I should've put off my escape til they fixed that.
Oh, wait, another car coming. Damn, can't see who's inside, windows are tinted. Is he slowing down? Yeah, he... no he's not!... fuck! FUCK!
Suddenly there's a screech, burned rubber, and the car comes to a stop.
Shit. Burst. Please, just be a neuromotor response. Please.
I run up to the car. I don't know who is in it, but I can sense one mind. I stop at the passenger side and try to smile. Then a gentle push. Gentle. Just lower the window.
The window hums and lowers, and I blink in surprise. It's a woman.
Geez, she's gorgeous. A real sight for sore eyes. Tall, sort of sandy-haired. Big blue eyes to get lost in. Wearing a blouse that's tight enough to show off her figure, not so tight that it looks slutty. Nice skirt, showing off her legs.
I finally notice one of those legs has the brake stomped to the floor. I look in her mind. Thank you. Neuromotor response only. I smooth it over, she eases off the brake.
She's frightened. No, come on, babe, I'm not going to hurt you. Really. See my smile? Okay, just another nudge. Easy, easy. That's better. She's a little more relaxed. Her eyes don't have the deer-in-the-headlights look anymore. Still nervous, though. That's okay. Get out of her mind, Jack. Don't push it, no matter how much those government bastards would want you to do if you were still back in their lab.
I try to make my voice sound as soft as possible. "I just need a ride to the next town. That's all. Really appreciate it if you could help a guy who's just had a bad break or two."
Okay, I have to nudge her again. But just a little. She has a Good Samaritan streak in her. She feels guilty for almost going past me, though she's obviously confused about why she stopped. I smile again. That's it, just relax. I'm harmless.
She unlocks the door. I scramble in and we are on our way. And I have another few hours freedom.
Shit. Half hour into the drive, radio news announces the APB for me. I have to get in her head again, make the information just flit through her mind without sticking. She still glances at me nervously, but keeps driving. Damn, that was close.
Okay, no more. Stay the fuck out of her head. I have to keep trying to convince myself I don't want to use this power. Damn, but it's a rush. Knowing you can just walk through someone's head like that. Dammit, no! The fuckers in the government did this to you! All you had was that damn mutation. Hardly did more than just make people like me and get me laid more often than most guys. Then those monsters blow it up into this!
So I let her drive on. Plan is to have her let me off at a truck stop or something where I can get a shower, then just mentally nudge someone into dropping a ten spot so I can get a decent meal. Until it dawns on me. Everyone else heard the APB, too. This gal is the only one in the three state area that hasn't.
I look at her. Damn, she's pretty. Wouldn't mind...
Concentrate. Just your immediate needs.
I start working on her. I strike up a conversation. Much easier to do while she's talking, all those neural whatchamacallits lighting up in her head, makes it easier to find the right paths. Gentle, Jack, gentle! You don't know how much power they gave you!
Okay, it's working. I get her to smile at me. She's got a pretty smile, too. Oops, she's anxious again, the whole "why am I doing this" shtick. Something else is bothering her, too. I don't push at it. It's something she can't deal with right now.
I'm having trouble juggling her emotions. Am I being too delicate? Fuck, I don't want to alter her. I push a little harder. Okay, I think that's fine. She's relaxing again. Still troubled, though, and confused.
Damn, this better be all I need to do. I don't want to mess with her head any more than this.
Amazing the wonders a hot shower does for you.
I even manage to get over my guilt. I had to get in her mind again. She got real skittish when we were in the house alone. I had to kinda keep my distance from her. Even then I had to suppress her urge to call the cops.
Okay, in and out. Shower, a little schmoozing to get some money, and outta here. I'll take my chances. No more messing with this cutie.
I get out the shower and look at myself in the mirror. I look halfway decent again. Sure wish I can do something about the stubble, though. For the hell of it, I glance in the medicine cabinet. My lucky day. A man's razor and shaving cream.
Wait, a man's... ? Aw, shit. She's married, or living with someone. I gotta get out of here before he gets home.
I shave as fast as I dare, dress, and go looking for her. I surprise her in the kitchen. She gives me this look, like she never saw me before. Yeah, babe, I'm not the lunatic you thought I was, huh? Anyway, I just need some money for a meal. Another little nudge to make her more willing.
But she doesn't give me the money. She invites me to stay for dinner.
Shit. I messed with her too much, that's it. She can't possibly want me to stay. But she's adamant about it. Claims she's a good cook. In a panic, I look in her mind. Personality okay. Emotions are jumbled, but not sure if that's my doing or not.
I agree to stay.
Her name is Carol.
She gets friendly with me while she makes dinner and it comes out. She lives alone. Divorced. Damn. She doesn't say it but I can see in her mind. It was really painful for her. This is the first time she's cooked for anyone other than herself in over a year. She's lonely.
She wants to know about me. I have to make up a cock-and-bull story. I tell her my name's Jack, give her a sob story about losing my job, tough economy, blah blah blah. Truth is, I'm not sure what my real name was. To the feds I'm "Subject MC5". Yeah, I know what you're thinking. Where's MC1 through MC4. "Not entirely successful" the feds said. Which means their brains turned to mulch.
Could've happened to me. Decided to get the fuck out of there before it did.
She looks like she's going to burst into tears at one point. I can't stand seeing that. I smooth things out for her, make her feel better. It passes.
Shit, I did it again. I messed with her mind. I have to stop.
Carol wasn't kidding. She's a damn good cook. Best meal I had in years.
My instinct says to leave. She's going to cry again. Why? I don't get it. I can't leave her like that. I get in her head again, try to smooth it out. Instead, I trigger something else. I can't do the delicate stuff as well. Suddenly she's telling me things that are very private.
How much she missed Dave, her ex; how lonely she's been without him; how she's not so much as dated anyone else after the divorce. I try to stop her, but something's wrong. I've screwed with her too much, removed some inhibition somewhere. She tells me about him. Intimate details. What he liked to do with her in bed.
It's too tempting, dammit. That's what's wrong with this power. It's too easy. I can't help it. I hadn't been with a woman for so long. She's already pining for her lost ex. She hadn't had sex since they divorced. It doesn't take much.
A few nudges, and her defenses come down. She's getting affectionate, snuggling with me on the sofa. I try to restrain myself, but it's hard. I keep telling myself I'll stop. No more. Just take this and be happy with it.
But then I feel her all warm and soft against me and I just naturally want more. I mean, come on, what guy wouldn't try to make the move on her now? Fine, make a move, don't get into her mind, don't...
It's almost a reflex.
I had tried pulling her closer to me and felt her resist just a bit. I couldn't stop myself. I was in her mind before I realized it. Why did they have to make it so damn automatic, those bastards!
.... There is more of this story ...