The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“I think I saw the shop door move,” I lie to my companions in a hushed tone. “Probably just someone looking for food, but we should be careful.”

I turn to the two bunkmates and say, “Bell and Gwen, each of you take one of the guns and look mean. Don’t point it at anything; we just want to scare away anyone who might be watching. The rest of us will go in.”

Gwen and Bell look at each other for a moment as they try to figure out why I’m arming them. “Shouldn’t you guys have guns too?”

I shrug. The thought occurred to me—not because I’d actually need it, but for the same reason Red and her friends were carrying guns the first time I met them. To look like I need it.

But weapons mean intimidation. Maybe even escalation. Not the first impression I want to give.

“We’ll be careful, and shout if we need you.”

The two bunkmates look unconvinced, but they shoot a look to Jen to see if she has any objections and concede when they see she’s onboard with this plan.

“What do you want me to do?” Karen asks in a whisper, blushing as my attention darts down to her revealing lingerie for a moment.

“Stay behind us until we know everything’s safe,” I tell her.

I’m a bit surprised when Jen is instantly able to suss out my logic for bringing Karen—if there were any suspicions that we were sentinels, they’d be dispelled the moment they saw Karen’s perky tits and smooth pubic mound on display.

Of course, Jen doesn’t realize that I have another reason to bring Karen and leave the bunkmates: if these looters try something desperate, she’s the only one I trust not to freak out if I have to melt another brain.

When I open the doors, we hear a rustling for a split-second before it’s overwhelmed by a thick, heavy, intentional silence.

From the far corner of the room I can feel the man’s attention darting around the store, hoping to find an emergency exit somewhere that he could reach before us or, at the very least, before his companion. Meanwhile, the woman is hoping that, if she’s quiet enough, they’ll find the man and she can slip away in the commotion.

So not a couple, then.

“I saw you hide. Men’s formalwear. Stand up.”

Slowly, a pair of hands rise from the clothing racks, followed by a man on the cusp of middle-age, his angular features and weathered, graying stubble making him look almost like an underwear model who retired early and then spent the next six years drinking Wild Turkey.

I close my eyes and shake my head as I feel a wave of relief from the other end of the shop.

“And you,” I say, ruining the woman’s fun, “behind the counter. Stand up.”

Surprisingly, she doesn’t feel any despair or fear at being called out—just disappointment. Maybe a little hidden sadness at having to forget about the man and ingratiate herself to new companions.

Definitely not the reaction I’d expect.

Anyways, when the woman stands up, I’m somewhat blown away. She’s definitely pretty—dusky blond hair, full cheeks, pale blue eyes, a button nose... she’s wearing a tight white top that accentuates her sizeable assets, and hip-hugging jeans that complete the hourglass look. But that’s not what strikes me. Not entirely, anyways. Something about her seems... I don’t know, inherently trustworthy, I guess. Like a deep-seeded part of me wants to reach out and protect her.

“Are you the two wanderers who’ve been shacking up in the apartment upstairs?” I ask.

The two travellers glance to each other. “I wouldn’t say shacking up,” the woman says, “but yes.”

I look from one to the other. “Where are you two coming from?”

The look at each other. “All over, I guess,” the man answers. “I started in Cleveland, but I haven’t been there in so fucking long. Honestly, I don’t know where we were before here. Or where here is, really.”

I nod slowly. “Cleveland, huh?”

He shrugs. “Yeah.”

“And why did you leave?”

A strange little smile sneaks into the corner of his mouth. “Demons finished what Cleveland’s been trying to do to itself since 1893.”

He takes joy in the self-disparaging joke, but some memories attached to his hometown quickly saps it away.

“What’s your name?” I ask him.

“Julius.”

A lie. A weird thing to lie about, I suppose, but I don’t feel any indication that his companion knows it’s a lie, and frankly I can’t say I blame the man for wanting to shed his old identity.

“What brought you to Meadowvale?”

The man lets out a heavy sigh, and his hands sink down to rest on top of the clothing racks. “We just followed the highway south and ended up here. The road seemed empty, so we’d just figured the town it led to was dead. Didn’t realize you’d trap us here.”

“In the store?” I ask, hoping he’ll realize that I don’t have a billion flying murder-babies at my beck and call.

“No, I mean—well, alright, not you personally, but we saw what happens when someone tries to leave.”

I don’t need to be told how. I’d first sensed them a few weeks ago, when they first rolled into town. There were four of them then.

“Checks out. How about you, Suzie-Q?” I ask, turning to the woman.

The rhyme seems to catch her off-guard. It takes her a second to recollect herself and give me a “What?”

“Where did you come from? I take it by the fact that you both seem to be squaring up to run in opposite directions that you’re not an item.”

The woman nods slowly. “Kansas. Middle of nowhere.”

“Whereabouts in Kansas?” I ask.

“The flat part,” she says. “What does it matter? Where I came from is gone. So is everyone in it.”

“Sorry to hear,” I say, trying to work a little of my sympathy into her mind to ease this poor girl’s pain. “I was alone for a long time, too. It’s not easy.”

She gives another slow nod, staring at me with those brilliant sky-blue eyes.

“Name?” I ask.

“Annie.”

“How long have you two been travelling together?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t know. A couple seasons, I guess?”

I consider taking my questioning further, but I can still sense that big steel crate—the thing that she wants so desperately to hide. I don’t know how to get there, but I can tell I’m not even close.

“Okay, Annie. Julius. I...” something clicks for me. “Wait... have you two been taking rabbits from the traps in the woods?”

The look they give each other answers for me.

I shake my head. “That’s fine,” I tell them. “Thanks for leaving me a couple.”

The woman says nothing, but the man shrugs. “Wouldn’t be right to take more than a couple.”

This is a half-truth. It wouldn’t be right, but not in the moral sense—if they cleaned out one or two traps, the owner might chalk it up to wildlife. If they cleaned out all of them, the owner would know something’s up, and they had no idea who or what they’ve been stealing from.

“Well, I’ve got good news for you two bunny-brigands. The town’s been cleared out.”

The woman looks to her companion, and the man furrows his brow with doubt. “Cleared out?”

I nod. “Everything otherworldly, be it good bad or neutral, is no more. I’m assuming you heard the explosions a few days back.”

“Yes...” The man’s answer is slow and hesitant, yet hopeful.

“That was them. A group of people swept through, erasing anything that wasn’t born in this world from existence.”

The girl finally speaks up. “How?” she asks.

I shrug. “I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “Fire, by the looks of it. Anyways, we just came from the southern road out of town. All the cherubs are dead.”

“We also got food,” Jen chimes in, finally gathering the confidence to step up by my side and speak up. “We were going to eat once we’re all unloaded... you’re welcome to join us if you want.”

The two wanderers’ minds are telling them not to trust us, but their stomachs growl at the mention of food.

“The food’s just the start,” I add. “We’re actually hoping to head across town tomorrow to begin rebuilding. We figure the mansions are a great place to start—lots of lawns to rip up so we can plant crops, and plenty of space for us and anyone who wants to join us.”

I can feel them both casting doubt at me from their narrowed eyes.

“Look,” I concede, realizing that I’ve stumbled into too-good-to-be-true territory. “We haven’t found that many people, and even though the monsters are gone, the clergies for all the churches are still going strong, and likely desperate to keep control. We need bodies to help get us up and running. We’ll eventually get churchgoers once they realize the clergy isn’t their only option, but... well, we need something for them to go to.”

This answer seems to satisfy both of them—inviting them to eat our food and live in a mansion with us is a bit suspect, but telling them that we want to exploit them as free labour while and make themselves the enemies of the church is no problem.

The man catches something out of the corner of his eye, and suddenly his attention is torn completely away from my proposal, and locked on our furiously-blushing ward’s skinny, perky, very-exposed body.

Apparently, Karen now believes that they’re not a threat.

“Yeah,” I mention, “part of what we want to rebuild is more free society. Religious dogma caused this bullshit, so we’re hoping we can roll it back and find something a little more natural.”

“Did you dress her like that?” Annie asks, clearly not as taken by Karen as Julius.

I chuckle. “Technically, Jen did, but Karen’s volunteered to let her.”

One of Annie’s eyebrows pops up. “Why the fuck would she do that?”

“Penance,” Karen answers for herself. “I... I did terrible things. Unforgivable. But by being Jen’s ward, I can... feel good about myself. About what I do. I can’t undo my past, but... I can make Jen happy. And I can let myself feel happy that I’m bringing joy for once.”

Annie opens her mouth to voice a protest—I’ve gotta admit, even I would find that a little weird—but she realizes that Karen is actually happy with her arrangement, and decides not to press further. “We met one of those nuns,” Annie says instead, subconsciously rubbing her forearm through her sweater. “What makes you think we’d want to be anywhere near them?”

I shrug. “Because the fucked up people seem to still have all the power right now. We ran into one of those nuns in the woods after the town was cleared out. And on our supply run we were shot at buy a guy who wanted to kidnap the girls. Turns out he’d been hatching cherubs in his barn the whole time. ”

A few moments of silence pass. Annie is deep in thought—she wants desperately to believe me, but a part of her is screaming at her that we absolutely cannot be trusted. That part of her is already formulating a plan to charm her way into a meal with us, and take off with all the food she can carry once we fall asleep.

Julius is thinking the same—about wanting to trust us, not about stealing our food—though most of his attention is still on the nearly-nude ward at whom he keeps stealing hidden side-eye glances.

I try to give them a disarming smile, ironing a bit of the doubt out of their mindsets as I speak. “If you don’t want to help us rebuild, then you’re still free to eat with us. Hell, I insist that you eat with us before you make your decision. Get to know us a little better. If we think you’re a good fit for our little commune and you think we’re not lunatics, then you can tell us in the morning. If not, we’ll load you up with some non-perishables and send you on your way.”

The two wanderers look to each other and have a conversation with their glances. Annie seems more hesitant—for obvious reasons—but eventually Julius’ trust in us sways her, and they both nod at each other.

“Great,” I say. “Karen, you tell Gwen and Bell to start unloading the cart. I think Jen and I will want to have a little one-on-one with our new friends.

Julius follows me into the back room while Jen leads Annie outside. The travellers both seem like perfectly normal people—at least, in their thoughts and behaviours—but there’s a lot of weird shit going on in the world, so it’s best to vet them separately. Make sure their stories line up.

Or at least vet Annie. I was going to question her first, but I started blushing like a fucking idiot and stumbling over my words when I started talking to her. If she’s going to fuck with my brain, probably best that I go through the motions with Julius first.

“So, you’ve been travelling with Annie for a while now,” I say.

Julius nods. “Probably just over a year.”

“How’d you meet her?”

He rakes at the scruff of his jaw for a moment. “A handful of us ran into her and her group in some wrecked township. No clue where—somewhere along a highway that runs east-to-west is the best I can do for ’ya. All that was left of the little town was a general store and a gas station, but it seems like there wasn’t much more than that to begin with. Anyways, there were six of us and four of them, and once we realized we were in the same boat, we merged. Strength in numbers, ’yknow?”

I nod. “And she’s the only one left?”

Sensing some doubt in my voice, I can feel him get a little defensive. “I’m guessing you’ve been locked in this fishbowl of ours. Out there, there’s some corrupt version of just about everything trying to kill you. Trees, bushes, prostitutes, shadows... hell, Fred claims he once ran into an evil ham sandwich eating a fat guy. Mind you, Fred’s Fred. Or...” he trails off.

I consider asking more questions, but instead let him continue.

“...or at least he was before the succubus.” He looks up at me, his eyes conveying a numbness in his soul. “You ever seen a succubus?”

I shake my head. “We had an Archangel pass through a few months in, but other than that just angels and murder-babies.”

He gives it a few moments of thought. “Never seen one of them big angels in the flesh, or the whatever-the-hell-they’re-made-of, but succubi are different. And way more dangerous.”

Images flash through my mind of the last TV broadcast before basically all communications technology went down: a big winged fucker, 3 stories tall with a giant flaming sword, incinerating Las Angeles with a few sweeps of fire and irony. “Doubtful,” I say.

He bobs his head in concession. “Maybe not as destructive, but at least those bastards are visible. You get caught by anything more than ten feet tall, then that’s on you, far as I’m concerned.”

He does have a point. When that thing passed through, even the clergy had the good sense to cower indoors.

“A succubus, though,” he says, “is small, but clever. Strong. Fast. The stories say they can suck your life force out with sex, but the one we met could just jam her fingers into your sternum and practically suck you inside-out. Plus they can compel you to wait your turn while they do that to your friends. Plus they have a shell that’s bulletproof and fireproof. Plus if they think they’re in trouble, or they decide they’ve had enough to eat, they can just blink away. PLUS I’ve heard from people more reputable than Fred that some can even do more shit, like talk to animals and shoot fire and shit.“

Hmm. A sex pot who can pass life through their fingers, shoot fire, and grow a... what did Red call it? A chitin shell. If one of those things taught her and that Omega guy, I guess it makes sense that they would be able to casually clear out the town without breaking a sweat.

Julius concludes, “Yeah, not many of us made it out of that one. We went from twenty to six.”

“Ah, so this was right before you met Annie’s group.”

He crinkles his brow for a few moments as he tries to work it out in his head. “It was... holy shit, maybe a year and a half earlier. Guess I never realized how good a run we’d had.”

“So do you know how long Annie had been with her group when you met them?” I ask.

I see a little tension leave his shoulders as he realizes that he’s not the one I’m nervous about. “Nah. One of ’em had been with her a while, though—I dunno if you noticed her wedding ring, but it’s actually a men’s engagement band. She and this other guy had been pretending to be husband and wife to get through holy hot zones, and he let her keep the ring. He must’ve meant something to her, ’cause he’s been gone for months and she still wears the ol’ thing.“

I nod. Definitely doesn’t sound like she’s a monster who mind-fucks people into protecting her. But... why the fuck do I feel so compelled to help her?

One way to find out. “Hey, can I ask you something that might sound a little strange?” I ask.

The notion of something seeming strange in this fucked-up world gets a genuine laugh out of Julius. “Sure, go ahead.”

“Do you ever feel... weird around her?”

“Weird? Like... in the pants? ’Cause we don’t get along, but still...”

“No, I mean... do you feel irrationally drawn to her? Or do you find yourself working against your own interests when she’s around?”

The smile slides off his face. “Buddy, I haven’t worked against my own interests for a girl since high school.”

I let out a sigh of relief. “Okay, great. Just wanted to make sure you weren’t being held hostage.”

“What, you were thinkin’ she might be a demon? What the hell would a demon want with a human schlub like me?”

I have some ideas why, but bringing up my own past is probably not a great move at this point so I let it slide and move on. “Well, that’s actually a question I was about to ask you,” I say with a smile. “What does a human schlub like you bring to the table?”

His blank stare eloquently lets me know that I’m trying way too hard to be clever.

“Like, skill-wise. Do you have a trade from before the fall? Do you know anything about farming? Water treatment? Construction? Carpentry?”

“Ah, right. For the thing. Yeah, I don’t know dick about farming, but I’m pretty handy with machines. I used to do HVAC installation and repair.”

“Vac...” I start and trail off, knowing that I should know what that means, but unable to unearth it from beneath the mountain of time.

“Heating, Ventilation, and Air Conditioning. So a lot of wiring and duct work.”

My heart lifts. “You’re not fucking with me, right?”

He shakes his head. “Five years in the business before power went away and I became totally obsolete.”

“We’ve got salvageable solar panels, and a profound love of climate control. You’re going to be a god among men here. If you stay, of course.“

Julius nods, convinced about the gig, but hesitant to commit to anything because he’s not sure about me. Though, if Karen were sitting with us, I have a feeling he’d already be onboard.

“Oh, one more question,” I add. “Do you know how to handle a gun?”

His face darkens a little. “I’m not keen on the idea of shooting people,” he says, his voice much more grim and deliberate.

I shake my head. “Not exactly what I meant. The house we hit up was... well, it was very second-amendment-friendly. I know how to hold one and look mean, but I’ve never shot anything more dangerous than a Nintendo Zapper in my entire life, and I want to make sure we all know how to hold a gun and look scary without accidentally blasting off any toes.”

He nods. “I’m no expert, but I had a cousin in Montana who took me out shooting a few times. Though... gotta admit, I’m a bit surprised you’d just hand us guns. I mean, you just met us.”

“Guess I did,” I tell him. “But I believe you’re genuine. Even if Julius isn’t your real name.”

I see the colour drain from the man’s face, so I swat him on the arm and laugh as I say, “Don’t worry about it, though. Nothing wrong with reinventing yourself. Hell, do you know my name?”

He thinks, his mind racing through our interactions over and over again, thinking he must have missed it among all the stress of our meeting.

“I don’t either,” I tell him. “Courtesy of one of some local monster. So I’m the last person who should judge someone for choosing what they want to be called.”

He nods slowly. “So... what should I call you?”

I shrug. “I dunno. I asked Jen that and she only ever suggests—” I catch myself before blurting out ‘master’—“titles.”

“Yeah, guess that’d make sense. So since you’re building a township, that’d be what—Mayor? ”

“Sounds super-weird,” I say, “but I mean sure.”

He smiles and extends a hand. “Pleased to meet ’ya, Mr. Mayor.”

I return his greeting with a nod and a firm shake. “Hail, Caesar. So, anything you wanted to ask me?”

“Yeah. How long have you know your friends out there?”

“Jen actually used to babysit for me ages ago. Karen was apparently her schoolmate, but I only met her a few days ago. And Gwen and Bell, who you haven’t met yet... well, they were little kids when the world went sideways, so I have no idea if we would have known who they were before. But we met them both a few days ago too, right after the strangers wiped the town clean.”

“Gwen and Bell?”

I nod. “They were outside watching the cart.”

Julius nods thoughtfully. “So what’s the deal with Karen?”

“Well, like she said, she did some bad shit to survive. Some of that bad shit was done to Jen. We confronted her, and realized... well, she did fucked up stuff, but she’s not a sociopath. The guilt was just crushing her. So she decided to make it up to Jen by... well, doing whatever she wanted.”

“And what Jen wants is... bondage?”

I roll my eyes to the side. “I think technically that getup is just lingerie, but... well, at first I think Jen wanted her naked because she was angry, but it turns out Karen finds it quite therapeutic. Hell, it’s only been a few days, and they’re already getting on like old friends.”

“So Karen and Jen are... a couple?”

I chuckle a little at the hope that flutters around Julius’ mind. “Not exclusive, no. I think mandatory monogamy is probably one of those church-y things that we’re going to drop. As long as everyone’s consenting and you don’t hurt anyone while you’re at it.”

“Oh. So you and Jen...”

I see the mischief in his eyes. He has a thing for tall brunettes, but he knows I have a sweet spot for Jen and wants to see if he can get a rise out of me. “I don’t know if Karen was any indication, but Jen gets what she wants. If that’s someone else, then so be it.” Wanting to turn his thoughts back in on himself, I add, “though to be honest, she’d probably rather order Karen to fuck you while she watches.”

And just like that, our commune has an HVAC mechanic.

“Well,” I say to Annie as I lead her into the back room, “you and Jen seemed to be getting along pretty well.”

It’s true. When I’d left them, Jen was in what I assume to be her stone-cold interrogation mode, but when I found them outside to trade off I had to practically pry them away from a conversation about old boy bands.

Their budding friendship would be promising, if that instant trust wasn’t what was setting off alarm bells in the first place.

“Yeah,” Annie says with an adorable dimple-cheeked smile. “Your friend is so nice and down-to-earth. You have no idea how rare that is nowadays.”

I nod, trying my best to avoid thinking too much about how stunning her face is when she’s happy. " You don’t seem to be quite so friendly with Julius, though,” I say, pushing a light dusting of gravity on my words as I say them.

“Well—” she begins by pulling her cheeks up to deliver a clever answer, but quickly gets a read on my tone and decides against it. “We weren’t really that close until we lost the rest of our group,” she says, the mood in her voice dropping to match my tone. “His last group was together for a long time, but they started dropping when they joined with mine. He would never admit it, but I think he might blame us for his lost friends.”

I nod slowly. “Us?” I ask. “Or you?”

She looks down and starts playing with her ring. “I hope not me. But nobody did anything wrong—we just had an unlucky run-in with some monster-worshippers. Bad luck is something you can blame on literally anything.”

“Interesting ring you have there,” I say, trying to resist the urge to close the distance between us and hug this poor woman until she knows she no longer has to be alone, and that I’m going to keep her safe and sound. “Where’d you get it?”

She freezes for a moment, and her mind immediately goes somewhere I didn’t expect—her eyes start to mist up, her breath quickens, and she mentally prepares herself to part with a beloved heirloom. “It’s from a friend.”

“It’s a wedding band, isn’t it?” I ask, knowing the answer.

Again to my surprise, Annie shakes her head. “It’s an engagement ring,” she says, tears starting to run down her cheeks. “It belonged to someone I cared about.”

“Husband?” I ask. “Boyfriend?”

Weirdly, I find myself wanting her to lie. I know she’s hiding something. And if I can’t figure it out, I’ll never be able to justify turning her away.

Instead, she says, “No. A stranger. He found me right after... well, after everything. He had no idea who I was, but he helped me anyways. He was even on his way to try to find his wife and kids, but... he stopped to help. Saved me. Didn’t even want anything in return. He... he was such a good man.”

“And he gave you his wedding band?” I ask, voice dripping with skepticism.

Her porcelain cheeks blush a heart-rending shade of pink (easy now, brain, we’re supposed to be suspicious, not fawning) and she slams her eyes shut. “He... he leant it to me. So that we could pass through religious communities. Some places... if you’re not from their church, and you’re a single woman, they assume... well, any one of a bunch of things, and none of them end well for her.”

The effort she has struggling through her words is genuine. I can feel the waves of sadness and regret echoing through her soul.

“I... I wasn’t supposed to keep it,” she says, once again twirling the ring around her finger, “but when he was gone, I... I wanted to remember him.” Annie then looks up at me and adds, “Please, if there’s any way I can convince you to let me hang onto it...”

I slump down and let out a heavy sigh. “I don’t want your ring,” I tell her. “Just making sure you’re above-board.”

My words don’t spark any sort of panic in her, which means I’m still miles away from her little metal box of secrets I’d gleaned in her mind earlier. Worse, she seems to have buried the goddamn thing, so I don’t even have a vague direction.

She lets out a deep breath of relief, and her heart slows a little.

“So you’re supposed to be from Kansas?”

Her heart speeds up again. A suspicious lump of dirt on the topography of her mind. She gives me a little nod.

“Weird. I don’t hear an accent.”

She narrows her eyes a little. “Kansas doesn’t really have an accent.”

I smile and chuckle to myself. “Everywhere has an accent.”

“Then Kansas has a normal accent.”

I think I’m close, but I decide to try once more to be sure: “How do Kansans say ‘Cola’?”

A pang of panic shoots out from that steel trap and she has to give it a moment of thought, then stutters her way through the answer. “P—pop.”

I stare at her silently, letting her mind race under the weight of my gaze.

“...right?” she adds, meek and defeated.

I shrug and shake my head. “Fuck if I know. But one thing I can say for sure is you’re not from Kansas.”

“I... I didn’t say I was born there. I came from Kansas. I was there when everything happened.”

Even if I weren’t in her mind, I would still be able to see her dancing around the technicality. “Okay, why were you in Kansas?”

I can feel her grasp for a convenient lie, but I’m able to reach into her mind and knock the excuses out of her grasp, leaving her desperately jibbering every answer but the one she wanted: “I was... my brother lives... I mean, my parents... my... my friend... I...”

“Annie.” My word is a command that quiets her mind all at once.

She’s been running around her secret so much that everything around it is stomped flat. There’s nowhere left to go—no way to hide it.

All it will take is a gentle tap to knock it open.

“Why do I feel an irrational need to keep you safe?” I ask, plain as day.

Her jaw drops. She spends a few seconds in bewildered silence, any hope of getting out of this with her secret intact shattering into smaller pieces with each second that passes. “What?” she finally manages.

“From the second I saw you, I had this weird urge to trust you. To protect you. Fuck, I don’t even feel that about myself. So again, I ask: why do I feel like I already know you and trust you?”

“Fucking movies,” I hear her mutter under her breath.

“What?”

“Please, please, please don’t tell anyone this, but... I was an actor. I still am.” She catches herself and adds, “Or—I guess I was. I haven’t been in anything big since I was a kid, though.”

Jesus fucking shit. Suddenly it all makes sense. “The child vampire.”

She nods.

“The teenage robot.”

She nods again.

“That one where you drowned in the river.”

Another nod.

“And that other one where you were killed by bees.”

She shakes her head. “You can’t tell anyone. I’m Annie, from Kansas, a place where they don’t have an accent and everyone calls it pop. I think.”

Suddenly I feel like the biggest fucking asshole in the world. “Jesus, I’m sorry—I didn’t mean to grill you that hard. When I noticed something was off with your story, I assumed that you were, like, a demon or a vampire or something.”

That sweet smile sneaks its way onto the corner of her mouth as she says, “I was a vampire, remember?“

“Right. Well, I won’t tell anyone else, but... why is it such a big secret?”

“Do you know how many peoples’ apocalypse fantasies involve a former celebrity?”

I shake my head. “I have a feeling I don’t want to.”

She nods. “We were filming a western in Kansas when everything ended—some bullshit vanity project where I have three scenes before getting fridged, but it had a decent paycheck and it was the biggest role I’ve had in a while.”

“Fridged?” I ask.

“I was there to get killed and left for the hero to find, so he has a reason to go on a killing spree.”

“Oh.”

“Anyways, when everything happened the whole production was hit right away, but I escaped with a few members of the crew. I thought I was rescued but... it was barely a week before... well, it’s best if people don’t know who I am.”

“ I’m sorry.”

“Well, it wasn’t you, so what the fuck ’you sorry for?” she says, oblivious to the fact that she’s paraphrasing a line from her drowned-in-the-river movie.

“I mean, when I was a kid I had a giant crush on you but... I was like ten so the extent of my obsession involved living together in a tree fort and kissing you on the cheek every day as I head to the business factory to support us or some dumb shit like that. I honestly can’t fucking imagine someone turning that wrong.”

A little relief begins to flow beneath her suspicion, and she lets her heart flutter a little at the chaste sweetness of some dumb kid’s crush.

I try to ignore the juxtaposition that bubbles beneath that sense of sweetness. I’ve heard enough horror stories about how child actors are treated growing up. I’d rather not witness any first-hand through her memories.

“Anyways, we’re not building a tree house, but you’re welcome to join us in the business factory if you still want to. I can’t promise that nobody will recognize you, but I’ll make sure they behave if they figure it out.”

She sighs and nods. She doesn’t fully trust me (that’s nothing new), but she knows I’m a better bet than the newly-liberated wastes and whatever bible-thumping, demon-worshipping, crazy-loner detritus that would have been left behind.

“Can I ask you something?” I ask. “And please, keep in mind that you’re well within your rights to tell me to go fuck myself.”

Annie nods.

“Why did you stop acting?”

She closes her eyes and shakes her head. “I didn’t, really. I grew up a little, and suddenly people didn’t want me in the lead anymore, so I went back to school. I wanted to start again once I graduated, but... I guess the industry moved on. I couldn’t get anything big from my name, and the cute kid look doesn’t turn into a leading lady look when it grows up.”

I shake my head. “That’s fucking crazy.”

She shrugs. “That’s fucking life. So was there anything else you wanted to know?”

I have to take a moment to collect myself. My inner ten-year-old self has a flurry of questions about the dumbest shit imaginable, and it takes longer than I care to admit to convince it to shut the fuck up so I can take care of actual business.

“Do you have any practical skills?”

“Practical...” she says, wracking her brain for something that sounds helpful.

I shrug. “It’s fine if you don’t. I imagine most of us are going to have to pick up a useful skill once we settle in. Hell, Karen was an art history major, so...”

Annie smiles with both mischief and relief. “Ouch.”

“Yeah. Still better than my practical skills.”

“Really?” she asks.

I nod. “I got brain-wiped by something. I don’t even remember my own name.”

One of her dark expressive eyebrows shoots up. “You remember a lot about twenty-year-old kids movies for someone who got brain-wiped.”

I shrug. “I think I just lost anything that could cause resistance. I know my family’s gone. And my name.”

Annie nods. “I... I’m not supposed to tell you this, but Jen mentioned something about that.”

I nod. “So, yeah, my most useful skill is basically a dusty box of old pop culture references. So, yeah, basically useless.”

“I wouldn’t say you’re useless.” Annie reaches out to give me a playful swat in the shoulder—nowhere near as hard as Red, but the similarity endears me to her even more. She continues, “You’re a hell of an interrogator.”

I sigh. “Yeah, I’ve been told that. I put myself in charge of gaining peoples’ trust, and it turns out my gift is that I’m great at being scary.”

“Don’t sell yourself short—if I were a real child-vampire, you would’ve been able to sleuth it out.”

Of course, if she were a monster, I would have been able to sense her, but I don’t mention that. Instead I say, “Good thing I brought you to an isolated location where you could bite my face off if my hunch panned out.”

Annie giggles and playfully snaps her teeth in my direction.

“Oh, I do need to warn you... when we were occupied, we were in a super-repressed area, and we... well, judging by the looks Julius was giving Karen, I think we may have over-compensated a little.”

The blonde crosses her arms under her breasts. Body language suggests she’s taking a cautious stance, but as a side effect it frames her breasts, showing just how well she’s grown up. “As long as it’s voluntary and consensual,” she says.

I nod. “That’s basically the only rule we have right now. But if you ever feel uncomfortable or... I don’t know, pressured or something, just let me know and I’ll find a way to tone it down. At least until we find a place with closing doors.”

Annie’s smile broadens. “Jen?” she asks.

“Hmm?”

“Jen’s an amazing person, but when I asked about relationships, she came off as a little...” she fishes for the word and settles on “aggressively open.”

I can’t help but smile. “That’s one way to put it.”

“I appreciate the warning. And I don’t think I’ll be running around in lingerie like your friend, but... play your cards right, and I might give you a kiss on the head before you head to the business factory.”

I feel my face burn beet red and quickly go over my new-resident-vetting checklist. Introduction? Check. Back-story? Check. Discover her terrible secret? Check. Warn her about our collective libido? Check. Just one thing left:

“So you and Jen were both into the same boy-bands, huh?”