πŸ“š burning-man Part 6 of 13
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MIND CONTROL

Burning Man Ch 06

Burning Man Ch 06

by neonrabbit
16 min read
4.69 (2200 views)
adultfiction

The OT was busy when Key arrived. The Spurs were just starting their first set when he got to the bar. He could feel eyes on him. His mohawk was combed back, but he was still a tall punk with facial tattoos, heavily patched black Dickies, and a leather jacket with the robot from Metropolis painted on the back. He was given a wide birth making it impossible to disappear into the crowd.

The bartender was ignoring him. He made eye contact twice but the man was clearly avoiding him. The younger female bartender on the other side was similarly looking anywhere but at Key. He moved to the back of the bar near the restrooms. He found a table and watched the band. The set was in full swing and the crowd was getting into the music and finally ignoring Key. He relaxed a little and watched the bar looking for anything that caught his eye. The students might be good to question, but most of them wouldn't know Morgan. If her mother was correct she barely spoke to anyone at school. The set came and went without anything unusual happening.

Darius jumped off the stage and was immediately surrounded by college girls. He smiled and basked in the attention he was getting. "You need to buy something if you want to stay," The bouncer appeared next to Key and grabbed him by the coat.

Key swatted his hand away and stood. "I'm here to speak to the owner," He said with some annoyance.

"He ain't here," The bouncer was a big guy solid hands and a nose that looked to have been broken a few times.

"I'll wait."

"I can't let you do that man."

The lead singer stepped up and tapped the bouncer on the shoulder. "He's with me Ben."

Key looked at the Jim Morrison wannabe then back to Ben and nodded. The bouncer backed down and turned to Darius, "You need to let me know when you have guests."

"It slipped my mind. My bad," Darius grabbed Key by the shoulder and ushered him through a doorway into the green room. "Beer?" He pulled a PBR from a tub filled with them.

Key took the offered beer and looked at it suspiciously, "Why did you do that?"

"You been looking for Morgan right?" Key nodded, "Yeah, I was asked by the owner to have sit down with you. So, we're gonna talk and when we're done talking I'll take you to her. You can see she's all good and safe and then you can be done with all this, cool?"

The guitarist on the couch strummed his instrument working through chords with practiced ease. "Cool," Key repeated as he popped the beer and took a swig. "He's throwing some hard punches."

"I don't know anything about that. I'm just a musician man. This is like a personal favor." Darius flopped on the couch next to his guitarist.

"What are you getting out of this?"

"Shit man, dude's got some serious methods and I get my rewards as they come."

"That didn't really tell me anything."

Darius laughed. The guitarist increased his speed, "I'm a simple man with simple needs. I get paid once a week, free beer, and loose women. Shit, for a townie band we get a taste of rock stardom least I can do is talk to a dude for that. I got a call that said if a punk with a black mohawk comes in I should absolutely lay this out for him," Darius explained

"Alright, talk," Key took another slug of beer then set it down on the coffee table in front of Darius.

"We need you to back off, it's clear you're a tough hombre and Collodi gets that."

"Collodi?" Key asked.

"Yeah, he doesn't want to compete with you and I'm sure you know you're not the first PI to come sniffing around and frankly Morgan and Collodi are tired of the exposure. He's a very private man, you understand? So, if you back off he's willing to do a couple of things. Number one, he'll have Morgan talk to her mother and alleviate her suspicions. You can drive her to her mom's front door, happy reunion and all this goes away."

"Number Two?"

Darius laughed again, "He'll let Noami go."

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Key took another swig from the beer and hoped that it covered his surprise. "He has Noami," Darius nodded. "I feel like I'm missing something here, where's the catch?"

"No catch, dude. Like I said, my boss is a private man and would prefer a little less scrutiny."

"Did you meet Henry Goddard?" Key followed up.

"Nah, doesn't ring a bell," then he snapped his fingers and said, "oh wait, you're talking about that fag," he shook his head, "I never got his name, but yeah he was here. Bouncer caught him sucking a guy off in the john."

Key considered what was happening and could keep going but the looming threat of Hotspur kept ringing in his head. He knew the demon wouldn't stop and Key needed to focus on eliminating that threat, the one that was in his wheel house. "What can I say to that?"

Darius shrugged and continued, "There aren't a lot of options for you right now, there is, however, a car waiting for you outside." Darius raised his hand to shake and in response Key handed him the half drank beer and moved for the door.

Outside he wasn't surprised to see the biker standing in front of a black mustang holding the door open. Key stepped inside the vehicle. Not a word was spoken between them. The drive was a short distance from the bar. It was a complex of nondescript warehouses. He could see two late model vehicles outside gleaming yellow from the sulfur lights that illuminated the central lot. The Biker pulled the mustang up to a security door turned the vehicle off and got out. He rubbed the amulet beneath his shirt and took a deep breath before following the brute into the complex. He didn't have his flask on him and quietly mourned the lack of the chocolate liqueur as he was led down a series of corridors. The lighting was warm, the floor was covered in a ornate burgundy carpet. There were few doors but he could hear music and laughter somewhere nearby. Finally the biker stopped at a door and opened it ushering Key inside.

Collodi's back was to him when he entered. The door closed behind him and he heard the biker's heavy boots walk away. "I was going to quote a poet or something, but I'm certain that will be lost on you," He finally turned and looked Key over. "Martin Tyrone Key. Nice name."

"Where's Noami?" He said through pursed lips. His anger rising to a boil.

"We'll get to that."

"We'll get to it now. That was what your little rocker boy told me, I back off. We go to our separate corners the world turns on. So before you subject me to yet another utter fucking clichΓ© and monologue at me let's get our business done now. Don't get me wrong seeing your back first and then the reveal. I got chills. There's a reason it gets used but I have miles to go before I sleep. So now, pretty please with sugar on top, bring me Noami and Morgan."

Collodi clapped, "Frost, nice! Not really a stretch, but nice." He moved to the front of his desk. "Do you know where you are? Do you know who I am? What I can do to you?"

"I have an idea," Key pushed every piece of anger he could find in his memory to the forefront of his mind. He saw Noami naked in the hallway covered in blood. He saw the biker, Darius, Mario, Henry, and the pleading mother in his thoughts and let the rage fill him. The smirk on Collodi's face also helped in his quest.

"What the fuck makes you think you can demand things of me?" Collodi asked as Key watched his face twitch and he felt a tickle in his brain. He shoved it back.

"Not yet, I still have questions."

Collodi tilted his head. "The answers won't serve you when you're sucking cock at the Grayhound Station for five bucks a pop."

Key felt the push again and met it with it with the image of he and Noami in the hallway covered in blood. Key tensed and continued, "It seems your abilities are inconsistent. Noami resisted you, but Goddard went down like a bitch."

"Willpower has something to do with it. Goddard had none and was also repressing a lot of deep seated homosexuality. I just unlocked it. Everyone caves eventually, even you!" He snapped and pushed again.

Key saw his moment and turned on Collodi, "no, you can't have me! you can't change me!" Key spat as his hand gripped the handle of his revolver in his pocket.

"The fuck I can't!" Collodi yelled back the criminal mastermind was gone and what was left was a petulant child.

The rage was flowing now and Key pressed, "Try it motherfucker, I fucking dare you!"

"I will tear into your mind!" Collodi stepped closer to him and Key saw his weakness. He was thin skinned. "Any horror I can imagine will become your reality!"

Key pressed into him, grabbed him by the lapels. "Do it!" Collodi took a swing which Key blocked, followed by cracking him in the nose, and knocking him to the ground. Blood dribbled from his nostril as he dabbed at it with his finger. Collodi scrambled to his feet and grabbed Key again, shoved him into the wall with gritted teeth as he forced his way into Key's mind. Key's anger was running jagged through his blood stream. "Take my life like you did Morgan, like you did Henry, Take it! Take it!" The force of his rage held Collodi back, he pressed, and pressed, and pressed, but the anger repelled him. "Do it!" Key screamed again. Key pulled his gun and pushed the snub-nosed barrel into Collodi's forehead.

Collodi's mind raced every avenue blocked, too much anger, too much rage, and then he relaxed his mind and wrapped around the anger and pressed it to the fore. "You're a punk," he said calmly and smiled, he found his anchor. "Violent," He felt his influence working. "Anarchist, miscreant, criminal, robbing old ladies," Collodi knew it was working and could feel the sweet submission of Key's mind changing. He stood tall against Key who shriveled more with each word he spoke. "Why don't you knock over a liquor store or something?" Key reeled back grabbed at his temples.

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Key felt Collodi flow through him. He used the willpower he had left to throw himself out of the room. The biker ran at him from down the hall and tried to clock him, but Key dodged the blow and brought a hammerfist down on his cheek bone. He felt the bone shatter and the thug he was becoming felt the thrill of it as he threw an elbow into his throat. The massive guard fell to his knees and Key pressed his thumbs deep into the biker's eye-sockets until he heard a crunch and let the biker fall to the ground. He smiled and licked his lips before running out of the complex.

Collodi collapsed into his chair with his head pounding. He had never encountered someone who was prepared for him. He had never known anyone who could push him off even for the few moments the way Key was able to. He opened his mouth to speak and realized that his man was dead.

Key thrashed and grabbed at his temples as he ran from the warehouse. Swirling images of murder and violence were all assaulting his brain and it was becoming hard to tell the difference between him and the thug. He found himself in an alley with a homeless man digging through a garbage. His hands clenched into fists and his eyes zeroed in on his victim. He wanted to hear him scream. He wanted to see blood. He shook the thoughts from his head and slowly walked past the man but his eyes were fixed on him and the compulsion to inflict pain was getting stronger with every step. He suddenly understood what vampires felt like. He punched himself in the jaw as he passed the old homeless man.

He passed his first test but then found his efforts usurped by a well dressed man at the end of the alley. The well-dressed man had perfectly styled blonde hair and was flanked by four men. He smiled at Key in a way that told him their intention was sport. Key couldn't help but smile as the young man spoke, "Going for a stroll?"

Behind him the homeless man ran off down the other side of the alley and Key perked his head at the movement. The men in front of him laughed. Key laughed too, just before he attacked.

* * *

Hotspur caught his enemy's scent on the wind and moved quickly towards it. What he saw filled him with joy, or as close as a demon can get to such an emotion. Police and ambulances crowded an alley way. A man with his windpipe crushed, another with two broken arms and a fractured skull, Hotspur saw five in all reeking of Key's odor. Hotspur laughed at the scene until an officer, more than a foot shorter than him spoke up. "I need you to move along," he ordered. As he looked up at the monster in front of him the air left his lungs.

Hotspur looked down on the small human and examined him. "Give me your gun."

"What? No I..." The officer dipped his head and looked at his gun before his hand seemed to move on its own unclipping, lifting, and handing his service pistol to Hotspur. It looked like a toy in his hand and the cop couldn't remember ever being this scared in his entire life. He wanted to run, to shout out, but his body wouldn't obey him. His heart felt like it was in his throat as the grotesque creature in front of him manipulated the gun in his hand turning it over like a curious child.

"Put it in your mouth," Hotspur ordered as he handed the gun back to him. He took the gun and did as he was told. His body shivered and he silently prayed that someone would stop him, but they moved around behind him oblivious to his plight as he shoved the barrel into his mouth. The young girl behind him smiled as she watched him. "You know what to do," Hotspur whispered to him. The last movement he had control over was his head shaking no as his finger squeezed the trigger. A white hot flash was followed by endless darkness.

Pheobe snaked her arms around Hotspur's waist and she laid her head on his back. "That was amazing," she moaned. Hotspur grumbled and continued on his way, ignoring the commotion as the officer's co-workers and the paramedics rushed to his lifeless body. Pheobe wanted to hold him again but didn't as she followed after him.

She stared obediently at her god as he moved through the city listening to the slow wheezing of his lungs. He never seemed to tire, but she heard his bones grinding and his lungs obviously working above their capacity. Pheobe heard her stomach growl and felt her feet throbbing. "Master?"

Hotspur stopped and turned. "speak," he ordered.

"That name your enemy used. Was that your name?"

"Cody?" He asked and Pheobe nodded happy to have stopped again, "Never my name, but it belonged to this host."

"What will you do after you've killed your enemy?"

"Find my bride."

The thrall felt a pang of jealousy at this bride. "Who is your bride?" She hoped it would be her.

"Elise," he said quietly, "You ask too many questions!" he growled. Pheobe bowed her head and followed her master.

* * *

Elise Wilson stood in a desert, cracked earth spread out in all directions, mountains hazy in the distance choked by city smog. She was naked, wiggled her toes and felt the texture of the coarse earth beneath her feet. Her blued butterfly tattoo seemed to flutter.

She looked up and saw Cody, beautiful Cody stretching his arms out to her. She ran to him, her heart thrashing against her chest, and fell into his arms. They kissed, she moaned beneath the kiss as his strong arms wrapped around her waist. He pulled away and smiled down at her. His face was strong, pristine, he caressed her cheek, pulled a single strand of hair out of her mouth. She was lost in his face. It changed, suddenly, violently. His eyes pulsed with blood his lips pulled back in a sneer, teeth sharpened. He grew, deviant musculature burst in his chest, arms and legs. His hand lifted from her waist and found their way to her throat. She struggled, but couldn't find the strength. She tried to talk, but words wouldn't come.

She put her hands on his chest weakly as she felt her life extinguishing. Her hands found not skin, but the wound, worked her fingers into the bloody jelly of the wound. She screamed and sound finally escaped.

"Honey, are you okay?" Her mother asked from downstairs.

She woke to sweaty sheets and a bleeding hand. She had smashed a lamp beside her bed in her dream struggle. The pain found her and she pulled her hand to her chest. The room was dark, somewhere in the house she heard a television set on. "Elise?" Her mother called out again.

"I'm okay, mom, it was just a bad dream," She called back as she got up cleaned her hand and tried to shake the dream, but it held on. It held on as she tried, unsuccessfully, to get back to sleep and it held on into the morning as she readied herself for school.

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