The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

St. Mary’s had once been the most sought hospital in the city, its services used by thousands of people daily. It was said it had the best practitioners, the best bedrooms, and the best food, the perfect trinity for anyone recovering from an impending ailment. Compared to other health units in the surrounding areas, it also had the lowest mortality rate. Anyone admitted there knew they were in good hands and that only extraordinary circumstances would result in sub-optimal treatment or decreased chances of recovery. However, those days were long gone.

The true reasons for its steep decline remained a mystery even after so many years. Countless articles had been written about the subject, with many blaming the change of administration, others focusing on the exodus of doctors and nurses alike, and some blaming the shiny new facilities inaugurated by the river bank. Wherever the truth lay, the buildings housing St. Mary’s were now a husk of their former selves and, according to Flora’s account, so was Janet, but the good doctor remained unconvinced.

She drove her car to the underground parking lot of the hospital and sat there for a few moments, pondering her next move. The primary goal was to find evidence of the receptionist’s stay there and get a clear understanding of the injuries she had sustained, but then what? Proof of physical trauma did nothing to ease the underlying mental condition. In order to truly help her, Dr. Angel had to convince her to go back to her office. Better yet, she had to persuade “Myriad” that doing so would be beneficial for them as well, but how?

She leaned heavily against the driver’s seat and let out a loud sigh, restless eyes roving across the dashboard. All the warnings she had heard before about pursuing this case came back to haunt her at the same time, an unsettling cacophony that grew louder the longer she remained still. Dr. Angel shook her head from side to side, opened the door, and froze, for in the rearview mirror to her left she glimpsed a shadow partially hidden behind a stone pillar, and it was staring right at her.

She couldn’t tell whether it belonged to a man or a woman, its predominant features hidden by a cascading veil of darkness. While the parking lot was well lit, with no flickering lamps or broken ones above her head, that section, three rows behind her, was the exception. There was nothing there save for a long strip of pure black and two red orbs piercing it.

Dr. Angel exited the vehicle and squinted, convinced her eyes were playing tricks on her. She grabbed her purse and took a step forward, saying,

“Hello? Who’s there?”

The dark shadow remained static, saying nothing at all. What looked like eyes focused on her and beyond, flickering circles of unrelenting madness. Dr. Angel continued to walk towards it until the most horrifying of voices told her to stop.

“Don’t come any closer,” it said.

“Who is this? Myriad? If so, why are you following me? What do you want?”

“We want you to listen,” the darkness hissed. “You’ve been warned before not to mess with things you don’t understand and yet you refuse to do what’s right. This is something we can’t accept. Janet is ours and nothing you can say or do will change that. Cease your inquiries. There’s nothing for you to find here.”

“I don’t believe that,” the psychiatrist replied. “If it were true, you wouldn’t have come after me, which means it’s precisely the opposite. There’s something here you don’t want me to find, but intimidating me won’t do you any good. I want to talk to Janet. Let her come out so I know she’s okay.”

“No. The girl has nothing left to say to you. She needs to be protected from your meddling at all costs.”

“My meddling? What about yours? What are you doing to her?”

“What needs to be done. This is the way things are meant to be, Dr. Angel. Why are you so stubborn to accept that?”

“I don’t leave my patients unattended. Until you prove me otherwise, I consider you a dangerous influence on her psyche that must be dealt with accordingly.”

“And that just proves how little you know... Your limitations are a liability, Dr. Until you surpass them, you won’t go anywhere.”

“Stop talking in riddles and be clear for once!” she fumed. “I already know about the accident. Tell me what really happened that day. I need to understand.”

“What you need is to go home and forget about us once and for all. This is our final warning. If you insist on pursuing this unintended path beyond today, the consequences will be dire for you and everyone else you hold dear.”

“Your threats mean nothing, Myriad, and they won’t stop me from doing the right thing. I will discover the truth one way or another and Janet will breathe again. If you have nothing else to say, then be gone and leave me be.”

“You’re making a huge mistake, Dr, but that doesn’t surprise us at all. Do your digging while you can. The next time we meet, you’ll realize just how foolish your attempts to deny us have been. Goodbye for now.”

Dr. Angel blinked and the lingering impression of living darkness dissipated, the once tainted space before her now bathed in the same soft light as the rest of the park. Neither Janet nor the strange amalgamation of consciousness that lived within her was nowhere to be seen, and yet they couldn’t have vanished like that. She circled her vehicle, looking in every direction for a sign of its presence, only to be greeted by the weary dark-brown eyes of a burly, bearded security guard whose name tag identified him as “Brett”.

“Madam, are you okay?” he asked with a thick Northern accent.

“Where did she go?”

“Who?”

“There was a woman standing by that pillar. I was talking to her and now she’s gone. Did you see where she went?”

“Madam, are you sure you’re doing well?”

“Of course I’m well!” she gesticulated furiously. “Why the hell are you asking me that? Did you see her leave or not?”

“No, Madam, I didn’t,” Brett raised a quizzical eyebrow, one hand raised in an appeasing gesture and the other resting on the radio on his belt. “Forgive me, but I’ve been watching you from the monitors on my cabin and you’ve been talking to yourself for the last five minutes. If you need help, you’ve come to the right place. Let me guide you to the elevator so we can find you a doctor to get you checked out, okay?”

“No, that’s impossible. I saw the shadow, it was right fucking there!”

“It’s just you and me on this floor at the moment, Madam. Whatever you think you saw, it wasn’t real. Please come with me and I’ll lead you to the front desk. A doctor will see you shortly, please.” He tried to reach for her left shoulder, but she quickly dismissed him.

“I am a doctor,” she said, glancing at his silver name tag. “Brett, right? I appreciate your concern, but I don’t need any help. Are you sure you didn’t see a thing?”

“As sure as I can be, Madam.”

“Okay then,” she exhaled loudly, her heart beating faster than a cheetah in pursuit. “Think, Eloise. Think! What the hell just happened here?”

“Madam, can I help you with anything?” Brett asked, torn between trying to help her come or communicating to the top floors what he had just seen.

“You can give me a minute to process my thoughts,” the psychiatrist replied, resuming her walk to the place where the mysterious figure had once stood. A leaking pipe next to the pillar had produced a puddle of dirty water on the exact spot where those fumigating eyes had confronted her, but there were no wet footprints anywhere. The water remained still and undisturbed unlike her state of mind. A few meters to the right, she saw a rotating camera tracking her movements, with another one pointing at the security who now stood in waiting. The angles left no margin for doubt, even if the conclusions made no sense.

“Brett, I know how weird this must sound, but is there any chance you’ll let me see the camera’s footage?”

“I’m sorry, Madam, but that’s not something I’m at liberty to give anyone access to. You’ll need permission from the Hospital Administrator.”

“Yes, of course. Thank you, Brett. Could you show me the way to the elevator now, please?”

“Right this way,” the bearded man replied, extending a welcoming hand. Again, she ignored it and walked behind him, with the nagging sensation that she was still being watched from an unknown vantage point. The feeling didn’t go away not even after the elevator’s doors closed.

The inside of the hospital was so bright it hurt her eyes as she walked to the front desk. There were two receptionists on call that afternoon, a man and a woman both in their late thirties. The former was busy taking calls with an enthusiastic smile on his clean-shaven face, while the latter typed something unintelligible on her computer. She had big blue eyes, platinum blonde hair, and perfect full lips, as if she had sprung from a mystical forest or the pages of a fashion magazine. Her voice was warm and incredibly waiting as she said,

“Good afternoon, and welcome to St. Mary’s. May I help you?”

“Good afternoon. I’m Dr. Eloise Angel and I’m looking for information concerning the medical records of a former patient of this institution. Could I have a word with the Hospital Administrator please?”

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible. Dr. Carruthers doesn’t receive anyone without an appointment.”

“I understand, but if I’m allowed to talk to him for only one minute, I’m sure he’ll change his mind. Please, could you at least call his office and ask?”

“That’s not how we do things around here, Dr. Angel. We have procedures in place for such diligence. I’m more than happy to give you the contact information you need, but without going through the proper channels, I’m afraid I can’t help you.”

“Look, I get it, I really do, okay? But we’re talking about a matter of grave importance here. We all know these things take time, which is something I currently don’t have. This patient may be in mortal danger as we speak, and gaining access to said information could prove vital in saving her life. I’m begging you to at least make the call!”

“That’s not the protocol, so my hands are tied. The best I can do for now is tell you who to contact. If you’ll be kind to wait a minute, I’ll print the information for you.”

“I’m sorry, but that’s not good enough, given what’s going on? Could you tell me where the Administrator’s office is? Oh, you know what? Never mind! I’ll find it for myself,” the psychiatrist stormed out.

“Dr. Angel? Dr. Angel, wait! You can’t...”

Suddenly, a gray-haired man in his late fifties with thick glasses, an almost invisible scar on his upper-right lip, and sporting a strangely fashionable combo of white shirt and pink and black striped tie emerged from the leftmost corridor of the main floor, ear glued to his phone and speaking something that was neither English nor Spanish but a hybrid bastardization of both bumped into the psychiatrist sending them both to the floor. He was quicker on his feet, helping her get up with a courteous apology.

“I’m terribly sorry. I should have paid more attention.”

“That’s okay. I was distracted too,” she glanced at a map of the hospital printed hanging on the wall to her right.

“Are you looking for anything in particular?” he asked.

“The Administrator’s office. Do you know where it is?”

“You could say that considering I just came from there. Dr. Anson Carruthers at your service, Madam. I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“Oh, no. No, we haven’t. This is quite fortuitous. Good afternoon, Dr. Carruthers. My name is Dr. Eloise Angel,” she showed him her credentials. “I’m a psychiatrist and as I was saying to your collaborator here, I would like a word with you.”

“Is that so? Do we have an appointment, Dr. Angel? Because I don’t remember seeing your name on my agenda for the day.”

“No, I didn’t schedule a meeting. I’ve come looking for information regarding a case of mine that is of the utmost importance, dare I even say, a matter of life or death. Your cooperation would be most appreciated.”

“Hmmm... that will depend on what type of collaboration we’re talking about, Dr. Angel. How may St. Mary’s Hospital help you?

“My queries concern a former patient of your establishment that’s now under my care. It seems some important details of her medical history were omitted from the files I had access to and the lack of said information is proving detrimental to my diagnosis and therapeutic efforts. I would like access to her correct data as quickly as possible.”

“I see. Normally, we handle such requests electronically, Dr. Angel, so you’ll forgive my surprise that you’ve decided to come here in person looking for said info.”

“I understand, but I was in the neighborhood and I hoped that by showing up, we could speed up the process. Please, it’s really important that I’m able to analyze her file right away.”

“Is it a recent case, Dr. Angel?”

“It’s over a decade old. The patient’s name is Jenny Hawthorne, and she was admitted here following a traumatic head injury. I was told that she was here recovering for at least two months, but until today I wasn’t aware of said occurrence.”

“Hawthorne, you say?”

“Yes. Does the name or the case ring a bell?”

“Both do. It was such an unusual affair it would be hard for me to forget it. How soon do you need access to those records, Dr. Angel?”

“How about immediately? I need something concrete to hold on to after what happened just now.”

“Hmm, that certainly can be arranged, but we better continue this conversation in my office, Dr. Angel. It’s been ages since I heard the name Jenny Hawthorne, and I would love to share some impressions with you about her.”

“Gladly, but may I ask why you’re so interested in this case as well? What’s your connection to the patient?”

“Oh, I was the physician in charge of her treatment while she was in our care. Follow me, Dr. Angel. We have a lot to discuss.”