This is the second chapter of a story mainly situated in the mind control category. I recommend reading the first chapter, but for those that do not want to do so here is a short summary:
The new school year did not start well for 18 year old Laura: First she breaks up with her boyfriend Daniel without ever having planned to do so, then her mathematics teacher Mr. Seger dies, and finally, she starts experiencing strange memory lapses. After a while she realizes that someone is controlling her thoughts and actions in some way, and she suspects her classmate Martin and a mysterious golden locket he is wearing. With time, however, Laura learns to resist, and after the end of the school year she finally defeats Martin. Laura believes to be free now; the only thing left for her to do is destroying the locket. Just then Mr. Seger, whom she believed dead, suddenly appears and turns out to be the true owner of the locket β Laura's ordeal has only begun.
I hope you enjoy this story, and I would be very happy about comments. The story takes place in a fictitious small town in Eastern Germany in the late 1990s. As in that time school took 13 years in Germany, all students in this story are 18 or older.
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Dark are the waters of Lake Leskow, as it lies quietly beside the GrΓΌnenberg forest. The night sky is covered with clouds, the moon is not shining. Only the street lanterns in the small town of Leskow, on its Western shore, shine dimly in the night. These lanterns, however, are fighting a lost struggle against the darkness enveloping lake, forest, and town. Their orange glow is swallowed by the darkness. No reflection brightens the waters of the lake.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blows over the lake, waves ripple its surface. The trees in the forest start swaying in an ancient dance, forgotten by humankind. It seems, the wind was all they have been waiting for, and now they wake up from a thousand years of sleep, they raise their voices in a song of rustling leaves. Then the waves of the lake are hit by the first drop of rain, it bursts on the surface of the water in a small explosion. Another drop follows, and another one. The rain drops are heavy, and soon the sound of falling rain fills the forest. But no one can hear it; it is too late in the night. Leskow is asleep, even the last guest of the little town's pubs has returned home and gone to bed. And who would want to be outside in this type of weather?
Suddenly, however, something is stirring at the edge of a small, hidden bay at the Southeastern shore of the lake. Some tiny movement that is not due to the wind. A bird flies up from the scrubs under the trees, fleeing from an unknown danger, though the rain is covering up all other sounds.
A moment later, a figure appears. A human figure, a man, though barely visible in the shadow under the trees. He stands motionless at the shore, staring out over the lake. He looks almost as if he is thinking about something. One of his hands is closed, forming a fist. Then, however, he slowly opens the fingers, one by one, and for a moment something bright glitters between them β a shining piece of metal, a precious piece of jewelry, that he is holding in his hand.
He remains silent a few more moments, and then his voice tears through humming of the wind, through the dripping of the rain. He says only a single word, a name, but he shouts it out loudly, so it echoes over the waters of Lake Leskow:
"Laura!"
***
Laura stared at the monitor of her computer.
"It was awesome! I had a great time with you! See you next week. Thomas."
She did not know what to make of this mail. It was addressed to her, it was in her email account, but what did it mean? Which Thomas had sent it, anyway? There were four boys of that name just in her class, and many more in the whole school. The address of the sender gave no indication which of them it might have been, and she had never been more than loosely acquainted with any Thomas. So what was he referring to? What had been awesome? Was she, without knowing it, dating this Thomas?
Laura massaged her temples. It was five o'clock in the morning already, and she had not succeeded in finding anything that made sense. She had no idea what was going on in her life. The last thing she could remember were the events of a warm August night. Now it was the end of October.
She had woken up about three hours ago. After sitting up with a start, disoriented and scared, she found that she was back in her own bed, in the room that had been hers since her childhood. Everything looked normal, as it always had; the room was neat and clean: She always kept it that way, since her earliest childhood. Her shelves were filled with books, her school bag was stored in a corner, and her computer stood on her desk.
Laura had awoken like this before β but something was different this time. 'Not again!' β Those words echoed through her mind the moment she woke up, as if they were coming from the past, as if she was not thinking them now but had thought them a long time ago. And there were other words there, words not spoken by herself, but by Mr. Seger, her old math teacher. Words that she seemed to have heard only minutes ago, though in fact they had been uttered back in August, out in the forest, by the lake: "You can't resist me."
The window to her room was closed when she awoke, and it was warm and comfortable in her bed, but Laura could see the outlines of trees outside, in the dark. She could see that those trees did not carry any leafs anymore. It looked cold outside, it was fall. After understanding that many months had passed since that day she met Mr. Seger at the lake, she left her bed and ventured out into the kitchen, searching for a pile of old newspapers that her mother kept to place them at the bottom of the garbage can when necessary. She needed those papers to find out as much as she could about the months she had lost, any trace that could indicate what her former teacher was up to. Of course, the newspaper pile was not very complete and her search did not render many results. There were a few articles about a recent series of strange robberies, for example another one in the museum of local history, similar to the one that had happened during the last school year, but that was it.
And there was one more article that interested her. Laura tore the page out of the paper, to keep it for future reference. Now, sitting at the computer, she unfolded it again and again to stare at the accompanying photo. The article itself was short; it was concerned with the Leskow Castle Festival end of September. No, it wasn't the article itself that made her stomach turn: It was sad of course, a reminder of the horrible events of the past year, when one of the participants of the diving contest had drowned. The photo accompanying it, however, showed this year's winner. The fact alone, that the diving contest was still taking place, would have been enough to make Laura feel sick, but it was worse: On the photo, the lucky winner was receiving his victory kiss β from her. She had no idea why she of all people had been elected "princess". Probably it was Mr. Seger's doing. But why? Why was he doing all this? His reasons did not seem any clearer than Martin's motivation last year to win the diving contest, and to even commit murder in order to win.
Apart from this, Laura had not much success with the newspapers. Finally, she returned to her room, searched her school bag with even less success and in the end switched on her computer, drumming her fingers impatiently on the desk while the machine took its time to get started. She read through all her Emails, but there was nothing she could make sense of. Only this mysterious email by a guy named Thomas. Just one sentence, no information. Laura moved the mouse to the reply-button and clicked. "Thomas", she started typing. "It might sound strange, but ..." She hesitated. What could she write? How could she make him understand, when she didn't even know who he was? And what use would it be, if he replied later in the day, or maybe even only in a few days, when she would surely not be herself anymore? For another moment, Laura let her fingers rest on the keyboard, trying to come up with any words that could express the strangeness and horror of her situation. Then she put her hand back on the mouse and logged out of her Email program without finishing the reply to Thomas' mail.
She decided to have a look through her school backpack next. It was neatly packed, which was not unusual for Laura. She had never been one to just throw things into or out of the bag, she liked finding everything easily, and crumbled paper or ear marked books annoyed her. One by one she pulled out everything in her backpack, books and notebooks, and quickly went through them, but with no result. Her notes from class seemed normal and complete. There was a math test from the past week, she had received top grades. The signature told her that her math class was still being taught by the elderly woman that had been called back from retirement after Mr. Seger's supposed death.
While Laura looked at the test, amazed that she had passed it so well, since she could not recall ever learning about this type of calculations in class, she suddenly remembered the small voice recorder that had helped her to find out more about Martin in the previous year. Where could it be? She carefully returned the books into her back, and started pulling her desk's drawers open. Eventually, she found it on top of one of her book shelves, next to the handbooks on journalistic writing her parents had given her for Christmas last year.