With all the voices in my head, I had never felt so alone. Every single day was a trial, and one which became more and more difficult to endure. I heard their thoughts, felt their emotions, listened to their darkest fantasies. People were so much different inside than out. The sweetest people could have the darkest desires, the meanest people the ones who needed to be loved the most. Contradiction was everywhere, but nowhere more than in me.
I had been given a power. Sometimes I saw it as a blessing, other times as a curse. I could look into the mind of anyone I met, I could control their actions, yet the only person I wanted to control was myself. I had used my powers to do morally reprehensible things, acts that sickened me and filled me with remorse, yet deep down I still desired to use my powers in such ways. I had an almost daily reminder of what I had done with my constant trips to the rehab section for physio to rebuild my shattered body and my somewhat strained interactions with the physiotherapist Sarah. She was oblivious to it all of course, her memories wiped.
Then there was the nurse Jenny, who still was the woman of my dreams. It had started with a blow job; it had ended with a loving embrace. Again she knew nothing of what I had done to her, what I had made her do. She didn't remember the nights she slid naked up and down my hard shaft, how she moaned in ecstasy as we made love, how I had used her body in every way my broken frame could do. I still dreamt of her of course, of her large breasts on her slender frame. I could still feel the tightness of her pussy as she slid down on top of me. I could taste her lips as she kissed me hungrily after an orgasm had washed over her. The temptation was there every day to take her again, to make her give me the sexual release I so craved. More than that, I had to fight the urge to make her love me once again. It was that, beyond everything else, that I craved so desperately.
The weeks rolled by and I grew stronger, both in mind and body. I learnt to have more control over the thoughts, particularly in crowded areas. It was no longer overwhelming to be surrounded by people and I could pick and choose who I wanted to listen to. Often would try to listen to nobody at all, but that was far more difficult to achieve. My own thoughts were focussed entirely on getting better, and I was succeeding. Each day brought new strength to my aching body. My broken bones healed after a short time. I took my first tentative steps unaided. I was defying the medics who had predicted I wouldn't walk again. Sarah said she had never seen anyone who quite clearly embodied the phrase 'mind over matter' before. She wasn't wrong. My mind was clearly now my biggest asset, but sadly my biggest concern.
Finally the time came to leave the hospital. My recovery wasn't complete, but it was far enough along now to allow me to return home which was a massive relief. This had become too difficult, too much of a trial. I wasn't strong enough, not brave enough to resist much longer. Jenny, the nurse who had so tempted me, who was both my dream and nightmare, was there every day and it scared the hell out of me. How could I resist such a perfect creature when I was so imperfect? I dare any man to show the courage that I did.
She was there of course on the final day. How could she not be? One final trial before leaving my prison, one final temptation. She first appeared as I was changing clothing, a startled apology as she walked in on me pulling up my pants. Of course, this wasn't the first time she had seen my exposed flesh. Far from it in fact. She had been the girl who had stroked my thick cock, who had lavished love on it with her tongue, who had spent hours sliding up and down, lathering it with her wetness. But these were memories only for me, hers having been deleted weeks before. To her I was just a patient again, but to me, we were lost lovers who could not be together. Yes, I had romanticised what we had. It was the only way I could cope with the guilt of making this woman do things she would never have done otherwise.
Finally it was time. My belongings were packed, my time over. Again she was there, in the doorway. We said our goodbyes, and I watched as she walked out of my life. It was torture, it was pain, it was anguish. It was right. Yet still, deep in my heart, I craved her. I craved her touch, her embrace, her love; even though I knew it wasn't real. Her love for me was a myth, one of my own creations. Yet still I craved her. I was lost in my dream as I took one final look around my room. And then it happened, the moment that changed everything. It started with the most simple of statements, but one that was entirely accurate.
"You're an idiot."
I turned, startled. It was a voice I didn't recognise, one laced with disgust that was all too familiar. This wasn't the first time I had been called an idiot, and certainly not the first time I had been deserving of such a statement. Yet my face was full of shock, not because of what had been said, but because of who had said it. I looked him up and down. His sharp black suit. His crisp white shirt. His shoes with an improbably shine. His poker face, hidden by the dark glasses. His short black hair, almost military. If anyone fit the bill of "spook", it was this man. What marked him out from every other man in this hospital and beyond, was that he had no thoughts. He had no emotion. He was unreadable. And to a man who had slowly become used to hearing and feeling all, this was terrifying.
"Who are you?"
Of course he ignored my simple question. He was above all that. He wasn't a man who answered the simple questions, that much was clear. Immediately I scolded myself for asking something so stupid, knowing that I should simply content myself with waiting for this man, this powerful man, to speak. Perhaps he knew what happened to me. How I had become what I was. My mind raced with thoughts, with suggestions, with hope, with despair. Yet he remained calm. Still. I could tell he knew my thoughts, that he was reading me in the way I wished I could read him. He could see the answers to his questions alright, but mine remained unanswered. I sought to calm myself, to not let my emotions overwhelm me. It was at this moment he spoke again.
"Why have you let her walk away?"
