The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Alexandra left her new entranced toy muttering to himself in his study and returned to the hustle bustle of the beneficence party, only to see something human retinae should never be allowed to see. The vast majority of the unsuspecting guests, once human effigies of happiness and heartwarming smiles, now wobbled and staggered like headless chicken, foaming from every open orifice as they helplessly choked on their boiling blood. The gruesome visage was made worse by the petrified gazes that knew far too well that whatever ill had befallen them had been designed to be painful beyond measure. The poison running through their bloodstream was akin to a forbidden biological weapon, a chemical curse whose antidote was rare and, most of the times, not effective at all. The primary targets were already dead in their tracks, most of the collateral damage about to follow suit. As for The Crimson Angel, he had seized the horrifying commotion to slip away, and was nowhere to be seen.

Sorrowful words igniting her throat, Alexandra collapsed by the main staircase, and cried: “General? General, do you copy? The crazy son of a bitch just attacked everyone! It’s a massacre, Sir! It’s a goddamn bloody massacre!”

The impossible silence on the other end of the line hurt even more than any other possible response.

Fast-forward into the future, General Rupert Hayes entered his office and stopped midway across the room upon realizing he was not alone. The air conditioning was off, stagnant air all around him infested with a sense of putridity only reserved to pure evil. It was a living creature and it smiled at him.

The man sitting at his desk was slightly thinner than he remembered, had shaved his head clean, and wore special colored contacts to hide irreversible nerve damage on his left cornea, but there was no mistaking his conniving smile, nor the cold rasp in his voice. Paolo Accardi wasn’t on his way to the base to meet or attack him. He was already inside, God knows for how long. He was dressed in the same get-up as the main security team, a fitting black and blue combo that, while a perfect fit to his new physique, still managed not to suit him in the slightest. He held a 3D printed pistol in one hand, the same type used by Colonel Gibbons on his involuntary assassination attempt. All the cameras in the room had been disabled, concave eyes of truth blinded to the menacing presence of yesteryear that had come to reshape the presence in its twisted and nefarious image.

“Welcome back to your office, General Hayes.” He said, opening his arms far and wide in an almost theatrical fashion. “I like what you did to the place. It’s a lot cleaner than it used to be.”

“How did you...?” The military man gasped, flabbergasted to see his enemy so soon. “How did you get in here?”

Paolo clicked his tongue. “Is that really how you choose to greet one of your former—and best—operatives, ‘Sir’? I’m sure you can do better than that.”

“You have some nerve infiltrating this facility, but thank you for sparing me the trouble of tracking you down.”

“That false courtesy is annoying so let’s cut straight to the chase, shall we? Your security is not what it used to be. To answer your question, it’s amazing what a brainwashed codebreaker and a worm in the system can do for a man who had all been but erased and forgotten.”

It was then the General noticed the recently printed ID badge on his left lapel. He recognized the name in it, a security guard from the top floors, most likely his most recent victim.

“Do I need to add another killing to your already extensive rap sheet?” He queried.

“Not for now. An identity is just that. Your man is alive, but a little tied up at the moment. It’s up to you to make sure he stays that way and gets to see his wife and young daughter at the end of the day.”

“What do you want, Accardi?”

Paolo crossed his legs on the desk, characteristic careless arrogance in full display. “For you and I to have a long-awaited conversation, for starters. I’ve dreamed of being face to face with you many times in the last couple of years. I didn’t imagine our reunion to be quite this way, but I’m playing the hand I’ve been dealt with. I advise you to do the same and sit. This doesn’t have to be an unpleasant experience. You already know what happens when I’m displeased.”

The General circled the desk, hands brushing the stack of needless bureaucracy that had been piling up in the last couple of days. With a swift glance, he noticed the silent alarm next to his laptop had been disconnected, too. Paolo raised an eyebrow at him and stood up.

“You can have your seat back if that makes you more comfortable.”

“I prefer to stand this time.”

“I insist, ‘Sir’. And so does your guard.”

Reluctantly, the head of the Division took his rightful place and examined the half-open drawers next to his legs and feet. Of course, his concealed weapons of choice were gone as well.

“You didn’t really think I would be stupid enough to leave you something you could use to defend yourself, did you?” Paolo immediately noted.

The General nodded. “What can I say? I’m an optimistic.”

“More like a medalled fool, if you ask me.”

Paolo sat in front of him, pistol close to his chest yet out of sight. If anyone happened to pass by the office’s door at that moment, he or she would only see two men of power having a terse chit-chat, not an uncommon occurence given the daily pressures of the job.

“Better now, General? Feeling more at ease?” Paolo hissed.

“Not with you still around.”

“Ah... won’t the animosity ever stop? I made this little detour just to greet you. You should be thanking me again for the privilege, instead of insisting on making me feel unwelcome.”

“But of course, you are unwelcome. Tell me how you’re still alive.”

“I will, but not right now. That’s a history for a different occasion.”

“In that case, I have nothing of importance to say to a serial killer.”

Paolo leaned against his new chair. It wasn’t as comfortable as the General’s, but better than some of the seats he had to endure after going rogue once more. “Yet, you never spared words when you had me kill for you and your corrupt government. How hypocritical is that?”

“You crossed a red line after what you did at Amiens.”

“Just because I sent a few extra souls to meet their maker besides the ones you commanded?”

“Seventy-three people, Accardi! You poisoned seventy-three people during your last assignment! There’s no coming back after that!”

“Only seventy-three? Funny, I remember the number being higher than that. Then again, not all of them died so it was never as bad as you’re making it sound right now. Get a grip, ‘Sir’. You’re starting to look older than you are, and that can’t be good for your weakening heart.”

“My heart is just fine. Why did you do it?”

“Frankly, I think a better question would be: why not? After all, they were right there.” Paolo scoffed, visibly unperturbed.

“They were innocent!”

“Innocence is overstated and overrated. Everyone deserves death, General. Many eschew any sense of dignity or finality when their number is up but, fortunately, some are lucky to meet their Maker at the hands of an artist.”

“You’re not an artist. You’re a butcher!”

“That too. I carve my way into this world and I do it without shame, unlike the everyday sheep without a true purpose. I create death as easily as others are able to bring forth life, and that is a thing of beauty. Not that you ever truly appreciated the depth behind my skills. You were only after the finished work when it benefitted you, the quality of the preparation and the intricacy of methods used, eluded you every single time. A dammning flaw, I say, but that was always on you, not me.”

“I should have never recruited you...” The older man sighed, hands buried in his thinning scalp.

“You’re right. You shouldn’t have. You sold your soul to the devil and the devil always collects with interest. I’m here to let you know your time to pay has arrived.”

A simple threat, far too simple for the likes of him. The General pushed him further. “You’re going to kill me here and now, is that it?”

“I certainly could, but that would be way too easy and a lesser fate than you deserve after you sent Alexandra on my tail to kill me.”

“That’s not what happened!” The General growled, the animalistic side of him creeping under his contorted lips.

“Not officially, at least, but I was there, remember? I know she doesn’t get her hands dirty like that, but your intents were more than clear. Hypnotize first, assassinate later... and you wonder why I hate you all so much.”

“You had it coming. You still do.”

“Oh, I know I have to die one day but, when that happens, it will be on my terms. I will choose when to face it, and when to jump if I need to.”

“There’s a bridge not too far from where we are. You can choose today, and get this over with. Do everyone a favor and deliver us from your superfluous existance.”

“Amazing! Your sense of humor is remarkable, considering the precarious position you’re in.”

“You already admitted you’re not going to kill me right away so I think I’m at liberty to say what the hell I please, Accardi! And that wasn’t a joke.”

“You’re right. I’ve been too honest and far more talkative than I expected, but we can turn that into a good thing. Believe it or not, I missed being around here.”

“Yeah, I don’t believe that one bit.”

“But you admire the grandeur of my plan so far, don’t you?”

“What plan? All I’ve seen are erratic moves on a crazy chessboard I’m not sure you’re truly in control of. Brainwashing? Having others kill for you? That certainly doesn’t fit the M.O. of L’Angelo Cremisi, does it?”

“I’m not the same man I was the last time we saw each other. Artists evolve. I did too to keep up with the new world order. My bag of tricks is far more extensive this time around, a must to deal with yours and Alexandra’s shadow world, and bring you all down!”

“I can see your ego is dying to tell me more. Spill it then! What is the end goal after this ‘conversation’?”

“Hmmph.... even my ego knows that filling you in on all the details right now would be a major waste of time. The endgame is... ‘classified’, a status you love so much. You’re on a need to know basis and the more questions you ask for the time being, the less answers you’ll get.”

“Then what’s the point of this charade?”

“Time. Time is always the point. Tell me, General: what’s more frustrating than failing to catch someone that managed to run away ten minutes before reinforcements arrived? Being only one minute behind the schedule, of course! So close, yet so far... uneasiness and exasperation tripled or more. I want to be close enough to hear her vexation! I want her to feel she disappointed yet another person dear to her.”

“I guess this is a kidnapping then.”

“I call it a prelude to a wonderful road trip together. As much as I enjoyed turning the Colonel into a sycophantic drone and wannabe murderer, he was never my primary objective. I’m glad he’s not dead though. It will be amusing to watch him deal with the disgrace of what he almost did.”

“God, you make me sick!”

“That’s good.” He checked his watch. “According to my calculations, our dearest ‘friend’ should be almost here. Time to get a move on, General.”

“Where are you taking me?”

“You don’t need to know that either.”

“I’ll arouse suspicions if I just leave in the middle of a major crisis like this one.”

“Will you really? I know you’ve been sleeping here since the assassination attempt and you’re still the man in charge, above any reprieve. I doubt the guards will bat an eye at a much needed temporary rest. We’re leaving, and we’re leaving now.”

“What about my other man? Do you guarantee his safety?”

“I guarantee his current predicament is soon to meet an end. No more blood will be shed today if you quit dillydallying.”

The General rose from his warm seat and adjusted the shiny cuff-links on his dark-green uniform. He took a step forward and almost tripped on his shoelaces.

“Oops... what a klutz I am. Must be the old age dementia kicking in.”

“You’re testing my patience now beyond any reasonable limit.” Paolo vociferated, hitting his wrinkled hands with the handle of the pistol. The General clenched his teeth to muffle a painful whimper. He wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of belting out his enormous discomfort, no matter what.

“What’s the matter? Time starting to run a little too short for your great escape?”

Paolo went for another blow, this time hitting the older man in the center of his rib cage. The General huffed, exhaling a massive discharge of unfiltered air. The taste of acidic blood swirled in his tongue. It was crimson just like the nickname of the lunatic he was dealing with.

“There goes your promise of not shedding any more blood today.” He muttered, having a hard time catching his breath.

Paolo pushed him away from the desk and closer to the main office entrance. The General lost his balance momentarily, but did not fall. Instead, he stood upright with the same poise befitting of a man in his position, wiping a speck of red from his battered lips.

“I don’t want to talk to you any more. Move! And don’t try anything funny on our way out of here.”

This time, General Hayes complied. While he hoped the precious seconds wasted would put a severe dent in the psychopath’s hidden agenda, it was best not to push his already dwindling luck any further. Paolo was as scheming as temperamental and the time for bluffing was long gone. The two of them left the office in a quick pace, one step closer to the surface, and the other to the ninth circle of Hell. Dante would be both proud and horrified if he knew where the undesirable trip would take them.

General Hayes’ personal vehicle was last seen exiting the upper parking lot, exactly forty-one seconds before Alexandra and Simms returned to the underground base. So close to the truth, yet impossibly distant at the same time. The corruption games she now loathed more than anything were not over yet.