Puppets

Sharing another story this week. This story was originally written as part of a flash fiction writing prompt to write a short scene with the theme being addiction. 

I tried to think outside of the box on this one, and I wrote in first person, which I tend to try and avoid, even though my novel is written in first person...

It ended up being a quick read at just under 2000 words. It also references the Aegis people that feature in many of my stories. Take a minute or two to read it and let me know what you think.

Puppets

Anthony D Farr

“Tell me, can you read my mind right now?”

“No, I mean, yes,” I said pressing my fingers into the corners of my eyes. “I can, but I won't. Last time it did things to me. It made me do horrible things. I made people do horrible things.” I sat up, the lounging sofa creaked as my weight shifted, and looked at the doctor. He continued to scribble on his yellow legal pad. The pen moving fluidly across the paper making only the slightest scratching noise sounded like nails on a board. He finished his note and ended with a flourish of the pen, then looked back at me.

“Mr. Rheoli,” he straightened, and then leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the pad dangling from one hand between his legs, “You've suffered a great deal. I need you to accept what happened to your family. I need you to remember what happened. You need to come to the reality that you cannot read minds or control them. What happened to your family was a tragedy and you need to deal with it head on without the trappings of this alternate reality you've constructed for yourself.”

I know what happened, you pompous ass. I was there. I caused it.

Oh God, I caused it.

I wept squeezing my eyes against the tears streaming down my face, between my fingers and falling into my lap. I heard the leather of his chair squeak as he shifted in his seat again. I could not keep the images of my parents and brother out of my mind. I made them do it. I killed them.

Oliver, only seven, face down in a pool of blood on the kitchen floor. Mom sitting at the kitchen table, leaning back, her hands holding the hilt of a knife in her chest. Dad on the other side of the small table, slumped over, with his hands dangling off to the side. Blood flowed freely from the long vertical slits in his wrists. I stood in the middle of this macabre display laughing, my body electrified with pleasure. I made them do it and I didn't care.

The doctor coughed snapping me back to the present, but I let my guard down. A low static slowly built up in my ears. I brought my hands up to the side of my face and rocked back and forth. I couldn't let it start again.

“Fredrick, are you okay?” He asked. I should call the nurse in here, echoed over the static and with the doctor's thought in my head I began to feel the pleasure wash over me. I had to stop before it was too much for me to handle, but a pushed a little further. I hope Agent Matthews is watching this. I could feel the euphoria spreading through my body, but I knew I had to stop before I took it too far. I couldn't let it happen again.

“Six point two eight three one... eight five, um... three zero seven one...” The door to his mind shut slightly and I sighed as his thoughts faded.

“Fredrick, what are you doing?”

“Reciting the digits of tau. Trying to stop from reading your mind again, sir.” I could not hear the static anymore. I dried my face and forced my breathing to slow.

“Again? Am I to assume that you were just now reading my mind?”

“Yes, sir.” I cradled my head in my hands as the pleasure receded replaced by a mild headache.

“And, you felt the pleasure, the rush, as you described it? Why did this time not turn out like the incident at your house?”

“Because,” I said, taking a deep breath, “I stopped myself. If I go too far, I don't think I'll be able to stop. The more I do, the harder it is to stop.”

“Tell me again, what happened with your family? Why was it so hard to stop?”

“I think, I don't know, but I think it feels so good, once I really get into it, I can't stop myself. I started by reading their minds a little, but eventually to keep the feeling, I had to go deeper. Then I had to start making them do things, controlling them. At the end, I could only keep the feeling if I made them do things they wouldn't normally do. I made them kill each other.”

He began to scribble on his pad again and I could not help but reach out and open the door again. I pushed enough to see through his eyes and read his notes.

Recommend for Project Aegis, but not as active participant, schedule for study and dissection before he loses control again.

I pulled back as I began to shake from the chemicals coursing through my body. I wanted to push deeper to find out what he meant, but I did not want to risk another incident.

“What is Project Aegis?” I asked.

“It's nothing,” he swallowed hard and he glanced quickly at the door. “It's a rehabilitation project for people with disorders similar to yours.”

“Even without reading your mind, I know you are lying. What's going on here?” I stood, and the doctor leapt out of his chair, knocking it over and inched toward the door. I caught glimpses of his thoughts, jumbled images of armed guards waiting to lock me up. “Don't make me do this,” I said, holding my hands up in front of me, “Please, just let me go. I promise, I'll go be by myself. Don't make me do this.”

“Fredrick,” he neared the door, arms raised above his head, “Fredrick, my boy, do you realize what we could do if we understood how you do what you do? Just let us take you in. You won't be harmed.”

“Won't be harmed? What is study and dissection?” I took two steps closer to the doctor and ducked as the door to his office splintered inward, sending glass and wood flying toward me.

The room flooded with guards in riot gear and they formed a curved line in front of me, all with rifles pointed at my head. The doctor still cowered near the door and covered his head, as a man wearing a black suit and a bulletproof vest strolled into the room. I fought hard to keep in control. I couldn’t let it happen again.

“Hello, Fred,” the suit said, “mind if I call you Fred? Of course you don't. My name is Agent Matthews. I work for an organization that is in place to catalogue and protect the world from the weird, and you are mighty weird, son.”

“Heh,” I chuckled, “Protect. Aegis. Pretty clever.”

“See,” he said looking around at the others, “see, this kid gets it. Yes, we protect, and right now I have a feeling we need to protect everyone from you. How do you see things?”

“I'm dangerous. I control people. I make them do things they don't want to do.” I started opening doors, ever so slightly. The armed men no longer could fire upon me, no matter what orders Matthews gave them. The euphoria slowly spread from my head down, and I fought to maintain composure. The doors opened a little more. Their minds told me of the snipers. I extended myself to them and had all three take a leap onto the pavement below.

“So,” Matthews said, “You understand. Son, you're either like a rabid dog that needs to be put down, or someone with a gift that can contribute to the future of humanity.” I need you alive at least until you are in the facility, then you are just a slab of meat for the scientists. He cocked his head to the side and I could hear the report that his snipers all lay dead. He glared at me and pulled his gun from its holster. I let him get far enough to hold the gun in front of me but stopped his finger. “Damn you,” he said. Before he could say anything else, I forced his armed guards to kill themselves. They all aimed at each other and fired. Quick and easy.

I soared. The fire burning within me raged and I needed more fuel. I knew this was the same path I traveled before, but I didn't care. It felt too good. The doctor tried to run, but I stopped him and made him stand at Matthews' side. Each heartbeat pushed me higher. I felt like a god. I flicked my hand and before either could say a word, Matthews shot the doctor. I felt a rush and pushed into Matthews mind, down to the core.

“Hmm,” I said, “You were going to kill him anyway? That's why that didn't feel as good as I'd hoped. Let's try something else.” Matthews moved his gun to his temple and his finger hovered over the trigger, but something didn’t feel right. “Ah ha, you would do that wouldn’t you?” He couldn’t respond, but his eyes narrowed. “You are the type to fall on your sword. You have failed your masters and would see this as an honorable death. Well, we'll have to find something more suitable. Something buried deep inside that you desire but would never ever act on.” I pushed deeper. Deeper. Until finally, “There it is. Oh wow. That is deplorable. I don't know how you could live with yourself after that.” His eyes grew wide and pupils dilated. “Well, there it is. Go forth and do my bidding.” He holstered his gun and turned away leaving me to myself.

As he left, my mind exploded. Wave after wave washed over me and I collapsed to my knees. When the feeling subsided enough for me to stand again, I walked out of the office seeking my next high.

          There's no stopping now. I can't go back.

Thanks for reading. Be sure to comment down below or on whatever social media you found this on to let me know your thoughts.

If you liked the story and you want to help support my writing habit, I've just signed up for Ko-Fi, which is like an online tip jar. So, no pressure, but if you are feeling so inclined, I would appreciate any amount. 

-Anthony

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