Thread: The Struggle for Power (Sumi & Alan23)

It was astonishing how an outlook could change, Jak thought. Just a half hour before, Iris' threats would have sent a cold chill through him. But now, some subtle change had taken over him. It was like a fight, when your opponent had hit you as hard as he could, and you were hurting and bleeding but still standing. He knew that he could take whatever she might dish out, and at the end, still have something left. It was a heady feeling. He had seen the chink in her defenses, and it was a chink, he knew instinctively, that she'd never be able to plug. For there was an ability Jak had. One he kept secret, even from his fellow gang members. One he could use only on occasion, when the fear levels and the emotions in him were high. A talent he called it. Usually it worked, and it had got him out of more trouble than he could remember. And in the dire straits in which he now found himself - it would come in useful indeed! So when Alice arrived, it was all Jak could do to keep the wary, scared look on his face. Things were looking up even more. She was a slim woman, yet with curves in all the right places, blond, and with the shy, slightly apprehensive manner at least in front of Iris that brought out the protective male in him. Once they were free from the office, however, another side of her personality quickly emerged. Bright, bubbly, eager to help. To take people at their worth rather than their reputation. Sympathetic and patient. A woman like this was a new one on him. He was used to people either disliking him, or like the girls from the streets appreciating him as an ally, or an object of lust. So as Alice showed him the various menial duties he had to perform - how to work the photocopier, how to take or send a fax, the use of the switchboard, even setting him up with an email account on the staff computer network and he was sure, somehow, that it was without Iris' knowledge - as she showed him these things, for a moment he was lost in a kind of dream. Of what his life might have been like with a different upbringing, a different start. Maybe, even, a different attitude. Hey, he might have been in this office, sending emails, earning wages, wearing a suit and tie, being able to walk the streets without having to keep one eye out for cops or rival gang members. Alice showed him how to do the filing. It was a simple enough task, even for someone like Jak who had no experience. All you had to know, after all, was the alphabet. Alice's praise when he got everything right first time felt good. As if he'd somehow helped her out. Alice was so nice, in fact, that when the time came to do what he knew he had to do, he was on the verge of an emotion that he very rarely experienced. He actually felt guilty! He almost put off what had to be done. It felt somehow wrong to be doing - well, doing what he was about to do - to this kind, pretty girl. Like a stray dog biting the hand of the one person who was trying to help it. But he knew that chances to put his special skill into practice came rarely, and had to be taken advantage of when they came. So, when it did come, he had to steel himself, force himself to put his feelings aside, take command. For taking command was what his skill was all about. It started when they were sorting the mail, sitting at Alice's desk, stamping everything with the word received, and then sorting the opened letters into small pigeonholes marked with the names of the companies various departments. Alice had explained that at one time this was a very time-consuming task, but that these days most incoming mail was by electronic means, and snail mail as she called it was only a tiny percentage of the correspondence. Though, nonetheless, many customers were of a traditional mindset, and still liked to communicate this way. As she was slitting open an envelope, Alice turned away and rubbed at her temples. A few minutes later, she repeated the action, then turned to Jak and apologized. Excuse me, Jak, she said, in a soft voice. I've got this terrible headache. I woke up with it, and I think it's getting worse. A few moments later, at the file cabinet, the same thing happened. The same turning away, the same massaging of her head. Muttering under her breath about this damn headache, and the tensing of her normally happy features. And this was the chance Jak was looking for. You know, Alice, he said, an innocent expression on his face. I can cure headaches, sometimes, if they aren't too bad. And when she looked at him with that curious expression on her face, somewhere between bullshit and really, how interesting, he was encouraged to continue. Yeah, it doesn't always work of course. Like, there's no way I could fix a migraine and stuff. But a small headache, just maybe, y'know. I've got this friend, Jim his name is, and he's always getting them. And I can fix them for him in a few minutes, or at least make them go down a bit, he says. Sometimes I can make them go away completely. The downplaying of his ability - saying he couldn't fix migraines, and such - he felt had been a masterful touch. Had he boasted he could fix any headache, she probably wouldn't have believed him. As it was, his statement had a ring of truth. Within a half hour, and the flaring up a few times of Alice's incipient headache, she finally as he'd known she would turned to him and asked him to explain how he'd managed to help his imaginary, though Alice didn't know it friend, Jim. From there, it was only a short step to demonstrating it. Taking her to the staff canteen, which was deserted, sitting her at a table. Asking her to de-focus her eyes, concentrate on his hand waving in front of her face, listen only to the sound of his voice, as, with lowered pitch and monotonous cadence, he lulled her into his control. Ten minutes later, the deed was done. He hadn't lost his touch. She sat, to all intents and purposes, as alert and awake as before. But with one very important difference. He took out his cigarette lighter. Now, Alice, I'm going to set a flame to your arm, he said. But it won't hurt, and it won't leave the slightest mark. he held the flame under her wrist for a good three minutes it was this part of the exercise that had meant he needed them to be alone - it would have looked weird in the extreme to be observed and then snapped the lighter shut. As he had promised, Alice felt no pain at all, and there was no mark. She was really and truly under his hypnotic control. Now, Alice, he said, his voice still low and deep. In a few seconds I shall snap my fingers and you will wake up. When you do, you will remember absolutely nothing of the last fifteen minutes. You will be totally happy, at peace, relaxed. Your headache will not exist any more - you will be totally free from pain. He rubbed his left shoulder with his right hand. And from now on, whenever I do this, you will go right back as you are now, under my control, and you will do whatever I tell you. Without question. He snapped his fingers, and Alice's eyes closed briefly, then opened wildly. My goodness, she said, in an embarrassed voice. Sorry, what were you saying? I... I do apologize, I was wool-gathering... I said 'How's the headache?' replied Jak. Alice put her hands to her forehead. Well, that is strange! A few minutes ago I felt like there were little men inside my skull, pounding it with hammers. But now I feel totally relaxes, and the pain's gone away totally. She giggled. It's almost as if you worked that headache cure you were talking about!