Author's note: I just had to write more. I get hooked on my chracters, and I have to finish with them.
Implanted Submission“Glimpse, Dear, I’m so glad to see you again! Oh how I’ve missed you so! I’ll be honest; my life has been a tad boring without my favorite little nemesis foiling my plans.” Black Wrath said when the henchmen forced me into his office.
“Hello. I’m not sure what you want me to call you. Is Black Wrath fine or maybe Cain? I wouldn’t want to be too presumptuous by calling you Daddy.” I hissed. Finally everything made sense. All these years, Black Wrath played the roll, pretending not to know who I was under the pink hair, and yet he knew my every weakness. He built traps to test my potential, and baited them with his robberies, all to train me. I felt so used.
Black Wrath chuckled with pleasure, “Call me whatever you wish, Sweet one, but keep in mind we’ll be working together from now on.”
“Working together, huh,” I said, pursing my lips as I looked him up and down. He was lacking one signature blood red coat, and his black boots I had become so accustomed to, but he was still wearing his black phantom of the opera style mask. He wore a black suit with grey pinstripes, and shoes so shiny that you could see your reflection in them. All he was missing was a matching fedora, and a Tommy gun, and I would’ve mistaken him for someone in the mafia.
“Yes, I’m rather pleased to finally call you as part of my team,” he replied, and then extended his hand to the two white armchairs sitting in front of his desk before he slid into his own chair. “Please, sit.”
“I’d rather stand.”
“As you wish,” He replied, and leaned over to grab a glass, swiveling from side to side in his chair like a child would as he poured himself a scotch.
I looked around curiously. His office had once been a meeting room for doctors, to discuss patient’s prognosis. He had a large white board pushed against the wall behind him, with a simple map crudely drawn in red dry erase marker. To the left was a counter holding a hulking espresso machine that hissed menacingly; no doubt stolen from a coffee shop. To my right was a large flat screen TV with a black leather couch sitting directly below it, and its red twin across from it, facing the TV, where a few henchmen dared to sit and chat quietly amongst themselves.
“What sort of ‘work’ will we be doing together?”
“Oh, this and that,” He replied, sipping on his scotch to hide his coy smile. I knew that any sort of work for him would include doing something illegal, but I had to admit, I was impressed by his confidence. We both knew I wouldn’t do anything for him willingly.
“And if I refuse?”
Black Wrath laughed, and a few henchmen stifle chuckles into their fists. “I’m afraid that’s not an option, my sweet. You see, I have ways of making people do what they don’t want to. You escaped the infirmary, which is the only reason why we’re having this discussion at all. My dear brother, Stanley had created an override chip, one that he was supposed to implant in you, but you escaped before he could. In theory, it will wipe away all your freewill, making your mind putty in my capable hands. It’s rather interesting, actually.”
I glanced at Stanley from the corner of my eye as he sat down on the edge of Black Wrath’s desk. He raised an eyebrow, studying my expression with an open curiosity, as if he expected me to react differently than the smooth faced façade I was wearing.
“By the way, I’d rather like to see that process if you don’t mind, brother.”
“That’ll be fine,” Stanley replied, still watching me, “The surgery is less invasive than one would think. We can do it in here, if you’d like. I promise I won’t ruin your upholstery.”
“Do you have all that you need?”
“I sent one of your lackeys to get my bag.”
“Wonderful,” Black Wrath said with an excited grin, clapping his hands in delight. My stomach sank.
“Ah, here he is now,” Stanley said, standing up. I turned my head a fraction of an inch to see who it was, and I caught sight of Andrew weaving in and out of the forest of henchmen. I didn’t stop to think. I broke the henchmen’s grasp on me, kicking one in the groin, flipping the other onto the ground by his wrist, and palm striking the one pointing the gun at me in the nose. I ran to Andrew, nearly tackling him.
My arms constricted around his waist, and I felt like crying. I pressed my face into his shirt, inhaling his soft cologne, letting its soft caress calm me. I stretched up on my tippy-toes, and kissed his lips desperately, as if this would be the last time. All the while wondering why he didn’t hold me; why he didn’t kiss me back. He was a rock under my fingers, motionless under my lips.
“Are you okay? They didn’t hurt you did they?” I whispered urgently, tugging on his sleeve when he didn’t answer.
His face was smooth as stone, his eyes flat pupils, unblinking as they stared back at me. I furrowed my brow, and my eyes traveled down his arm to find that he was the one carrying Stanley’s doctor bag. I dropped my embrace like a hot pan, and stumbled away from him, betrayal and horror written all over my face.
I felt Stanley’s hand on my shoulder, not comforting, just guiding as he pulled me away, farther from Andrew, to the front of Black Wrath’s desk. He pushed me, and I flopped down in a white armchair, trying to comprehend what had just happened. I couldn’t trust anyone anymore. Everyone had lied to me; my parents, Black Wrath, Stanley, and now, even Andrew.
I sat still without fighting Stanley’s hands as he made me lean forward. I didn’t try to escape as he brushed my hair aside, and swabbed the nape of my neck with an alcohol pad. What was the point? My parents grew me in a test tube, my arch nemesis has been training me secretly to be one of his lackeys for the past two years without me even realizing it, and my boyfriend just so happened to be one of his henchmen.
Black Wrath chuckled, watching me with a bemused grin as he stood up and walked around his desk so that he was standing in front of it. And of course he had to rub salt in my wounds. “I do say Andrew! When I told you to get close to her, I had no idea you’d get that close.”
“I was doing my job, and truthfully it wasn’t that hard.”
I let out a shaky breath as Stanley instructed me to do, and I felt a painful prick in the back of my neck as Stanley slid a needle in my skin. The drugs hit me almost instantly. My head slumped further into my lap as if I was a lifeless rag doll, and when I did move, it was only because Stanley was the one moving me.
He had Andrew clear Black Wrath’s desk, and then he scooped me up into his arms, and stretched me out on top of the desk where he had already laid out his scalpel, and all the other surgical instruments he would need. Stanley grabbed a thin throw blanket from one of the leather couches, and threw it over me as Black Wrath dismissed his henchmen. But the blackness didn’t come.
Black Wrath sank down in his computer chair, pouring himself another scotch. He pulled out another glass, and poured scotch into it before sliding it beside my head. Andrew leaned over me to grab it, avoiding my eyes, and then sat down in one of the white armchairs, holding the glass, but not drinking. He held it to his temple, closing his eyes for a moment, as if he had a headache. Stanley squeezed his long fingers into a new pair of latex gloves. But the blackness didn’t come.
He picked up his scalpel after marking the area to cut with a pen. He turned my head to the right, and I stared at Black Wrath’s chest, rising and falling at a relaxed pace, because I was too tired to move my eyes to look at his face. Stanley made the incision in the shape of a small ‘X’ on my left temple, but I didn’t feel the bite of the blade. I could feel the pressure, the pins-and-needles tingling of my numbness, but no pain. But the blackness didn’t come.
I felt warm blood ooze up from my sliced skin. I felt it pool on my cheek until it finally overflowed, and dribbled down my chin, and wetted my lips. I could taste the rusty salt in my mouth, as the blood worked its way in between my parted lips. Stanley sponged my temple, wiping the blood off of my face with his other hand. He inserted the dime-sized chip. But the blackness didn’t come.
I felt the tugging and pulling of my skin as he worked it closed, and applied a clear layer of dissolvable stitches. I heard the clank of metal hitting the metal water basin as he dumped all his instruments in it to be cleaned. Stanley wiped the remaining blood from my face, scrubbing where it had already dried, and stuck to my hair. I felt him turn my face towards the ceiling again, and I saw his eyes in a blurry haze as mine fluttered tiredly against the bright lights overhead. And then the darkness finally came, and took me, and for a moment, I wished it would just keep me.