All Women Are Evil

My name is David. I'm a young black man attending Harvard Medical School. I've also been blessed and cursed with the Gift of Telepathy. The ability to read people's minds. It's a power that has come in handy more times than I can count. I discovered it a long time ago, and I've always kept it to myself. When you're a telepath, you know many things about people that they would rather not have you know. It's not that I snoop, it's just that people's minds are like wide open books and I can't help but peek from time to time.

For example, I know for a fact that Janice Starks, a professor of mine had her husband Lawrence killed by Rhonda Silk, her lesbian lover and that they burned his body at an incinerator. The two of them were living happily together in Boston. I also know that Edward Rex, a policeman who lives in my apartment building steals money from the criminals he arrests. He's a crook in uniform, who would have thought? He doesn't do it because he needs the money. He does it for the thrills. He's a sociopath, you see.

Oh, and my dear neighbor Alexandra Romulus, a sixty-something black woman who worked at the public library had killed six young men and eight women in her lifetime. This religious dame saw herself as an avenger of morality and she preyed on those she considered to be evildoers. By evildoers, I mean her perception of evil, of course. Gays, lesbians, drug users and porn peddlers were all seen as evildoers by this tough old lady. In her guise as a kindly matron, she had drawn them in and killed them.

Oh, and let's not forget about my fellow Harvard Medical student, Alison Sinclair. She was currently married to a construction worker named Bradley Madison, and they seemed quite happy together. What nobody but me knows is the fact that Alison was having an affair with Leslie Madison, Brad's corporate executive sister behind his back. Talk about a weird twist!

Leslie isn't just a successful business woman. She's also quite the sociopath and planning on killing Brad to be with Alison. It's not out of love that she's doing, it's because her father, Mr. Madison is leaving the bulk of the family riches to Brad, the prodigal son who walked away from the family fortune. If Brad dies, his wife stood to inherit all of his money. Leslie figured that she and Alison could share the money. The two of them wanted to live happily ever after. What Alison doesn't know is that as soon as Brad is dead and she makes Leslie her financial heiress, she would suffer a tragic accident. Yeah, Leslie was a very manipulative woman who would do anything to get what she wanted, including double murder. She's the female sociopath par excellence!

Yes, I can see through the minds of both men and women. It's the most interesting thing in the world because you never know what you will find. There are men and women out there who have no conscience. They live to destroy the lives of others. They're a very interesting bunch. I love to probe their secrets. Their minds aren't that different from those of snakes and crocodiles. I've looked into the minds of white people who hate blacks and of blacks who hate whites. They're pretty much the same. I've looked into the minds of women who hate men and men who hate women. The man-haters are the most diverse and numerous bunch. Pure venom. Snakes in skirts, really. We'll get to them later.

One person who puzzles me is the one person whose mind I cannot probe unless she's experiencing intense emotional turmoil. This person is not extraordinary in no other way. I decided to keep her close to find out what made her different from everybody else. What do you do when someone puzzles you? Do you run from them? Or do you consider them to be a challenge, a test of your skills? If you are anything like me, you will choose the latter. Wherever it may lead you. What follows is the true story of the events leading to my unraveling the mystery of this unusual person.

I was sitting at my computer terminal when I noticed my pal Stacy walking back and forth. Damn, what was the matter with her now? The chick couldn't even sit still for one moment? Stacy is not very bright, I'm afraid. I'm not saying this to be mean, just honest. A lot of people of both sexes are quite dumb. Trying not to see it won't change things. Trying to spare someone's feelings is no substitute for honesty. Stacy was not the brightest bulb under the tree. Barely over one hundred on the IQ scale. I let her run errands for me and pay her a couple of bucks every now and then. She is quite good at menial labor, especially when properly coached.

This blonde-haired, green-eyed ex-criminal was good for nothing else, really. Nobody would hire her. She had done some bad things in her life. First, she smashed her mother's head with a vase in a moment of anger. That got her sent to jail for several months. Setting her boyfriend's car on fire hasn't helped matters, especially since he pressed charges later and she was arrested. You'd think she'd be smart enough to ditch the fire accelerants she used after committing her act of arson. Apparently, she wasn't a very bright criminal. This time, she did a rather lengthy stint in prison.

Through the kindness of strangers, she found a way to get work in spite of her criminal record. Unfortunately, this hasn't helped her much. She has botched every job she's ever had. Her lack of street smarts cost her dearly the first time she tried shoplifting. Oh, and she really shouldn't have taken a swing at the police officers when they approached her. That made matters worse. She ended up with an even worse criminal record, which makes her impossible to hire. Striking police officers will get you taken down, no matter who you are. Just don't do it. Because I'm a charitable sort, I decided to check up on her. I asked her what was up and she told me that she was not feeling well. I often wonder why she comes to me with all of her problems. I'm a doctor, not a miracle worker! Certain things simply cannot be fixed and Stacy is one of them.

I walked over there and decided to give her the attention that she so desperately craved. I took out my stethoscope and proceeded to examine her. Stacy proceeded to undress, and I gave her a thorough examination. She told me that she was feeling very uptight down there. I frowned. What did she mean by down there? Blushing, Stacy told me that her anus was feeling rather tight and she was experiencing some pain. Well, that was interesting. Stacy is many things but uptight had never been one of them. Like a good doctor, I decided to lend her a hand. I put on some latex gloves, dipped my fingers in lubricant and gave the gal a deep anal exam. Stacy giggled as I examined her anal cavity. Believe me, I didn't find it half as interesting as she did.

I gave her some aspirin to calm her down and make her feel better. Then, I went back to my work. I am a firm believer in having a good work ethic and achieving great things through hard work and resilience. That's the attitude which got me, a poor black man, through the best school in the country. Yeah, things had been tough but hey, one does what one can. I think I will miss those halcyon days walking through the halls of Harvard when I graduate from medical school and finally launch my glorious destiny as the first black man to become the country's surgeon general. It's an admirable goal and one that will become a reality someday. Hope is what keeps a man going, even in times of adversity.

I was almost done with tonight's work when Stacy came back, this time with another problem. I wondered why. She told me quite bluntly that her pussy was itching and she felt sick from it. Since I was the only doctor she knew, she wanted my help. I looked at her. What did this woman want? I don't have time for this stuff! I'm a very busy man. Also, contrary to what you might think, examining women's bodies doesn't give me any thrills. Why would it? Especially since a large number of my female acquaintances are man-haters. I don't find them that interesting to begin with. Most of them lack interesting personalities. I tend to value a person's character rather than his or her looks. The haters aren't good for much. They're not that smart, either. Having a talent for manipulation and deception doesn't take a high intellect. It only takes a manipulator's brain. That's all it takes.

The haters changed the laws of various countries across the world to suit them and politicians nodded along to placate their constant whining. That's the only reason why man-haters advance in education and politics. They may be the powers that be on college campuses but they're not that bright. They get to high positions in society through manipulation, deception and the use of their wiles, never through intellect and merit. It's through whining and political correctness that they move up, never through merit. They don't get what they want because they've earned it the right way, they only get it because authorities are scared to refuse them. Too many whiners out there and most of them are man-haters.

I'm an openly gay black man and I am quite comfortable with myself, thank you very much. I don't discriminate against anyone because I know that every person has their prejudices, deep inside. Even me. I like my men like I like my coffee. My men need to be hot, strong and black. I have a few women friends who are dear to me but I don't like man-haters. I don't want them for sex, friendship, business relations or anything else. They're unpredictable, petty, cruel and dangerous. Trusting a hate-filled person is the worst thing anyone can do. Of course, plenty of bigots from other categories are dangerous but at least you can predict some of them. Treachery is unpredictable and often lethal.

With those thoughts in mind, I told Stacy to find herself another doctor, I was spent. She shook her head and walked away. I knew exactly how she felt. It had to do with my Gift of Telepathy. I could read people's minds. I didn't need to use my power to figure out Stacy, though. She was very simple. Stacy was a bitch in heat. She wanted an unattainable man such as myself. I was tall, good-looking and intelligent. I was educated and going places. I was a free man and I wasn't looking for some idiot woman to put a yoke around my neck and drain me mentally through her histrionics. I felt sorry for straight men sometimes. Lacking the sense to find decent mates, they were always chasing man-haters. They got hitched, and had to put up with man-hater's odd and crass behavior all the time. No wonder they were outlived by their wives. They didn't want to live long and continue to endure the torture. I thank Father Nature for making me what I am.

Stacy let herself out of the apartment. For a moment, she lingered right behind the closed door and I could hear her thoughts. Her intensely erotic thoughts, now swarming with feelings of rejection. I decided to probe deeper into her simplistic mind, and what I saw was fascinatingly predictable. Stacy had a crush on me. Sometimes at night, she fantasized about me. Like she was doing right now. She was imagining me, grabbing her and shoving her on the kitchen table. In her fantasy, I bent her over and took her from behind. Stacy was quite the slut and she loved the rough stuff. I will spare you the details. Well, maybe not. I want you to get the idea.

What I saw next in Stacy's mind was rather, well, shocking. I mean, one minute I was seeing clear as day through her brain and the decidedly erotic thoughts in her head. She was riding me as I lay on the desk, thrusting my cock in and out of her. She was yelling obscenities and so was I. I was telling her that I wanted to make her mine, and fill her with my manly tool. She screamed ecstatically as our bodies were joined in a glorious romp. Oh, my, this gal was something else. I think she might have missed her calling as a porn star! We fucked and sucked the night away, until our bodies collapsed from sexual exhaustion.

These intensely erotic images were familiar, I had glimpsed them sometimes when my klutz of an assistant worked near me. They were not unexpected. People working in close quarters sometimes fantasized about one another. What I saw next in Stacy's mind shocked me. Suddenly, the erotic images were replaced by what I can only describe as fury. Pure, undiluted rage the likes of which I could only imagine. I had sensed such fury before, from a greedy woman whose ex-husband got a clever attorney and was able to keep half of his assets from her. She had only married him for his money and although his parents and siblings saw right through her, he didn't. Not at first. That woman, whose name was Rose, walked by me with fantasies of running her ex-husband and his new girlfriend over with a truck.

I saw through Stacy's mind. What I beheld amazed me. She was not the dumb person she appeared to be. In fact, she was quite smart. Her street smarts were quite good, but she sometimes had bad luck or lost her temper. In fact, she was a first-rate predator. Her modus operandi was to find lonely but brilliant or wealthy men, prey on them and then take off with their money after destroying their careers and their lives. Her strategy hadn't worked with me and she was puzzling as to the reason why. Suddenly, it hit her. I was a tall, good-looking, college-educated man who never had female companionship. Therefore, I must be gay!

The realization that something so monumental could have eluded her for so long made her laugh. I heard the laughter behind the door. Inside, she wasn't laughing, though. She was angry. There was a storm beneath her calm. She walked away. I could still hear her thoughts, loud and clear. She was planning on killing me, and taking off. The money she could have made from me no longer mattered to her. She wanted revenge and taking me down was suddenly a priority for her. This realization of her intentions chilled me to the bone. I forced myself to be calm. This is the part where most people would panic. There was an angry woman out there who wanted to kill me. What should I do? Go to the cops and tell them that I read her mind? They'd put me in a mental institution. Try to take a restraining order against her? Judges were notoriously stupid when it came to dangerous women and their male victims. It never occurred to them that many women could and did kill men. They wouldn't listen to me.

So, what should I do? I thought about it. I would use the only weapon I had. My mind, the most unique mind on the planet. So, I did what I did best. Listening. The thing about telepathy is that it's very precise when used right. I could pick up Stacy's thoughts as she walked away from my building. She was broadcasting her fury with such potency that I could still feel her. Nobody around her felt anything even remotely as intense, so zeroing in on her was easy. I read her intentions. Tomorrow, when I left to go to school, she'd sneak into my apartment. Then, she would kill me when I returned.

I knew her plan. So, what should I do? I could leave the apartment building tonight and go stay with a friend. I could go to a motel. Then what? Spend the rest of my life running from a vengeful woman who was making it her life's mission to bring me down? Thanks but no thanks. I was suddenly feeling very angry. I liked my life. I was a young black man who was going places. I wanted to become Surgeon General someday. I wanted to make a difference in the lives of others. In many ways, I used my powers to help people. I steered innocent men and women away from predators of both sexes. I was often an interloper who saved the day. Now that I was in danger, I was all alone. There would be nobody to save me. So I decided to save myself. Nature made me different from the rest of humanity. I wasn't going out like some punk. I was going to fight for my life using the only weapon I had, the Gift of Telepathy.

I suddenly remembered something from my youth. Back when I was in school, there were these bullies. Adam, a large young man and Evelyn, his equally large sister. They would tease all of us. At the time, I wasn't brawny. I was a thin young man with glasses. They picked on me. I hated it. One day, I fought back. I used my power against them. It was the only time I had ever struck anyone using my mental powers. I lashed out at them, piercing their minds and seeing right through them. I saw their worst fears, and forbidden fantasies along with their secret dreams. And you know what? I used it to my advantage.

I knew that Adam the bully was deathly scared of snakes. He had been bitten by one while on a camping trip with his father and he had loathed the reptiles ever since. I happened to like snakes. They reminded me of the men and women I encountered everyday, only greener. Evelyn, Adam's twin sister was a violent young woman. She bullied both men and women and was every bit as savage as her brother. Her aggression and antipathy stemmed from an experience she had when she was younger. I won't go into the details but let's just say that a female camp counselor was a bit too chummy with her. That experience filled her with rage towards both men and women. I suppose that makes her more sympathetic in the eyes of many. Not in my eyes. She was the enemy and she had to pay. And so I made her pay, and her brother too.

I reached into both of their minds, and plucked their worst fears. I recreated those events in their minds. For Adam, I made him relive the moment he had been bitten by the snake. I made things worse for him by making him think he was surrounded by swarms upon swarms of snakes that wanted a piece of him. He began to scream, loud enough to wake the dead. His sister Evelyn would have tried to help him but she was busy with her own fears. I made her relive her worst experience. That of being betrayed in the very worst way by a woman she once trusted. I replayed those images in their minds. Played them over and over, taking great care to intensify the experience a thousand fold. With my powers, maximizing someone's emotional experiences wasn't hard. I could tap into a little joy and turn into ecstasy. I could tap into a bit of sadness and turn it into deep depression. Such was the extent of my powers. The result of this little experiment is that Adam and Evelyn were left in a permanent vegetative state by yours truly.

I suppose you feel bad for them and you think that what I did was unforgivable. You might be right, but I have a slight case of not caring very much. Until you've been mocked, humiliated and tormented by a man or woman who lives only to hurt you, you don't understand my pain. Adam and Evelyn weren't dead. I had dealt them justice the only way I knew how. I had struck down my foes using the only weapon I had, and what a powerful weapon it was! I grinned as I recalled this story. All of a sudden, I knew how to solve my problem.

I reached out with my mind. Stacy was several blocks away, driving rather slowly. Her mind wasn't hard to spot. Her fury was raging like a volcano inside her. She couldn't wait for tomorrow. She was plotting how she was going to kill me. She wanted me to suffer before I died. Suffer horribly, too. She wanted to mutilate me, after rendering me powerless. She licked her lips in anticipation. All doubts I might have had concerning how to deal with her vanished. This woman was going down, by any means necessary.

I reached into her mind. It wasn't hard. With such intense emotions roaring over the bonfire of her consciousness, it was like shooting fish in a barrel. I wasn't the first man she had killed. Not by far. But she hadn't hated any of them. She hated me and wanted me to suffer. The others had died of poison, or suspicious and unfortunate accidents. Me? I would die a horrible death and probably become a cautionary tale as a result of it. I looked for Stacy's fears. What did she fear? I looked and looked. Right now, she was feeling fearless. I sighed and kept looking. Finally, I saw a light at the end of the tunnel. The first people who betrayed her were her mother and father. For this, she had eventually killed them, though the cops lacked any evidence to get her for it. She felt a special resentment of their treatment of her, even after their death.