The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Kyle awoke to the sound of a rooster. As his vision began to clear, he observed his surroundings. A beautiful pond sat before him whose waters shone like moonlight. The ground he was on was bark-like and ancient. He noticed, upon closer inspection that the walls all appeared the same texture. Thick roots of a tree, presumably from above the ground he was currently on, winded their way down to the pond and beneath the ground. The whole place had an almost gothic beauty, the quality of a magical forest with a hint of darkness. Nastia was on the ground below him, resting peacefully. He realized that his shoulder was not hurt at all despite the bullet wound he had taken back at the base. Suddenly, as his senses returned to normal, he realized that he and Nastia were not alone.

Three women dressed in dark cloaks that covered their faces were sitting before him, across the pond, weaving tapestries with golden twine. Though silvery hair adorned their heads, the three women were stunningly beautiful and youthful.

“Mortal, you have awoken.” The second of the women said, “Welcome to Urdarbrunn.”

“Urdarbrunn?”

“It is a well below the great tree Yggdrasil.” the second replied, “We are the Norns, the weavers of fate.”

“We are the past.” The first said.

“Present.” the second added.

“And Future.” The third finished.

“Oh wow.” Kyle replied, “I’m here huh? You’re like the Fates.”

“Do not speak of such things!” Present bellowed, the sound rocking the cavern which caused massive echoes and reverberations that hurt Kyle’s ears. Kyle shrank back slightly in fear. Nastia remained blissfully unaware, seemingly asleep at his feet.

“You are here because you are the instigator of changing fate through the medium of the alteration of time.” Past said.

“Right. I was trying to save our world from Brainstorm.”

“There is no future in that world, the Season of Storms dimension is lost.” Future replied.

“That’s not true! We still can—”

“Silence!” Present bellowed once again. “Your heart is noble and your intentions are true, so we have spared you from Hel.”

“Thanks I guess.”

“I wasn’t finished.” Present interjected, “We have sent your friends to another dimension as they are innocent in this matter. We are banishing you to this dimension as well. If you attempt to alter the time stream again, do not expect fate to be so kind.”

“I understand.” Kyle said, “But it may not be able to avoided.”

“Fate can be avoided by virtue of man’s will and choice. Every man can change the stars if he so wills.” Future said. “Keep those words mortal hero. Everything can be avoided.”

“You are a seiðmaðr, a man who wishes to alter history through the use of magical power.” Present said, “Your power has brought you here. May it never bring you here again.”

“We gift you two things to alter and steady your course. First the tarnkappe and second a book of the ways of seidhr. May you use it to vanquish evil.” Future said.

“Thank you goddesses. Truly.” Kyle replied and he bowed extending his hands.

Placed into his hands was a black leather-bound grimoire, old and ornate, with raised holly leave patterns adorning the cover made of leather as well. The other was a mask that fit over his whole face perfectly and seemed to mold to his face. The face of the mask had a celtic cross pattern emblazoned from the forehead down to the mouth. Beneath the horizontal bars of the cross were two separate slits for eyes that extended out towards the ear and then swooped down tracing the jawline, giving him room to breath. The slits had a black covering over the top allowing him to see but concealing his skin and eyes with some unknown material. The entirety of the mask was a faded almost rusted metal color and despite the helms apparent hardness and durability, it was as light as a feather. Putting the mask on he felt no apparent change but realized that his reflection had disappeared from the pool. The black material covering the slits of his mask was strange as it was like a one way mirror. From the outside, no one could see in, but from within, it was as if nothing had changed. He took off the mask and stored it in the folds of his leather jacket.

As he turned his attention back to the Norns, he watched them work. Weaving their tapestries together, a magical door was formed, “Step through to a new world.” Present commanded.

Kyle gingerly scooped up the sleeping Nastia, and took one last look at the haunting beauty of Urdarbrunn. Then he stepped through the portal. He fell, and he fell into nothingness, and then suddenly, he appeared on the top of a building of a place that seemed terribly familiar. It was Brainstorm’s fortress, or formerly known as Grimalde Tower. It was under construction for some reason, perhaps some explosion damage? The city streets were clean, cars drove upon them. The sunset was a beautiful kaleidoscope of purples, oranges and reds. He could feel the massive amount of technology around him that he could access. So different from the previous world he had been in. What had the Norns called it? The Season of Storms? The world’s technology had fallen into disarray under Brainstorm’s rule, save for his massive armies and resources.

A billboard caught his eye, sporting an advertisement for a lingerie company with a beautiful woman’s face on it as opposed to propaganda sporting Brainstorm’s face. Upon closer inspection, the woman looked unmistakably like Tone. Could it really be her? This was a whole new world, that was for sure, and it was going to take some getting used to.

“Nastia, Nastia! Wake up!”

Gwen had sat in her chair on top of the balcony of her rich estate every day for at least an hour, much to the confusion of her household staff. Whether rain or shine, she would be out there. No umbrella, still wearing her old raggedy clothes from another time. In a freak accident of some sort, she had been sent far into the past, before their aimed date. Back into the forties where she had mourned the loss of her friends when she had discovered that none of them were on this Earth. She had scoured the globe using her psychic powers but no avail. Their distinct brain signatures were nowhere to be found. She spun the ring that she wore on her hand, the two rings actually. One her wedding ring worn and scuffed due to use and age and the other, Andvaranaut the magical ring that had been gifted to her at by the Norn. The ring, which she had received with a note in her pocket when she had arrived in this dimension, had granted her great wealth, but was cursed to bring misfortune to whoever bore it. The Norn had taken pity on her due to her circumstances and given her the ring saying “A maiden whose life is fated to destruction can bear this ring. After all, ill-fated she is already, what more is a little misfortune?”

They had explained to her that Kyle had attempted to alter fate via time travel so overtly, that he had caused the Norn to intervene. They had told her that it was possible for a person to change their fate, but Kyle had tried to change the fate of billions all at once. Although heroic, they said, they could not allow it. So instead the Norn had thrown them into an alternate dimension, one where Brainstorm had been defeated and Omega Girl had brought peace and justice to River City. They had given her the ring, because they knew she was fated to die alone. Kyle would never come for her in time. Her late husband, Anthony, had died one month after she had found out she was pregnant, two months after they had gotten married, fighting in the Suez Crisis, a 9 day war that accomplished nothing. Now she was relegated to her mansion on the English countryside, sitting by her balcony that overlooked her lake.

Omega Girl was now de-powered, according to the news, but her kids still protected River City. Even Gwen’s daughter, Eva was in retirement, and Gwen mused once more about seeing her or even her twin sister Anastasia. But the girls could barely remember Gwen, and Gwen surmised that she was quite the terrible mother, having sent them away at a young age to live with her “grandmother” because she was too depressed to be a mother. But no tears fell from her face. She had cried too much in her life to even try to cry. Now she was just a hollow shell, sitting, watching, waiting to die.

She took off the Norse ring and inspected its simple band. There was nothing spectacular about it save the inscription upon it in a language she couldn’t read. Suddenly, the ring slipped from her glass, took a skip off the bannister and landed in the lake below. Searching for the ring with her mind, she extended her thoughts outward. First, as always she extended her thoughts to the broader world, and then worked her way towards England. But something stopped her. This time she could sense a signature that she had not sensed for many years. She sensed Tone’s signature as well as Jason’s. She had sensed them 7 years prior where they had appeared in River City, seven years before they were supposed to in a different dimension. She could not bare see them, but she had kept tabs on them. This was not what had drawn her interest, however. There was something else, a powerful signature…Kyle! The signature suddenly, popped out of existence, and she frantically searched for it once again.

Was the signature an illusion? Just her old mind playing tricks on her again? But then, with glee, she found the signature once again. It was undoubtedly Kyle, untouched, just like that fateful night when Brainstorm had invaded. She reached out and sent him a message, calling upon an old contact line that she had long since used. For him, she mused, it was merely seconds.

“Kyle?” She asked, hopefully.

“Hello? Gwen? Is that you? Where are you?” Kyle asked.

“I’m in England. Cornwall to be more specific.” She replied, elated. Old feelings swirled in her chest from long ago, but she crushed them, once again sad as she realized that this was love that was never meant to be.

“What are you doing out there? Are you alright? Can I see you?”

“I live here. And I’m fine yes. And of course you can see me. But there’s a few things you need to know. Brainstorm doesn’t rule this place, we’re in a different dimension.”

“I know that already—”

“Azzy. Stop. Listen.” She said, recalling her old phrases that she used to grab his attention, he stopped, “I’m old now. I came back in the forties. Tone and Jason, they arrived seven years ago. I lived through World War II, the Korean War, Vietnam. My husband died in the Suez Crisis in 1956. I have a girl. Her name is Eva. Nothing is the same as it once was.”

There was a long silence from his end,

“Kyle?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you ok?”

“Can I see you?”

Her heart fluttered, “Are you sure?”

“Of course.”

“I’m old now—”

“I fell in love with you not your body.” Kyle replied, “Remember? We never even had sex because it wasn’t that important to me. I love you. I want to see you.”

“I do regret not doing that.” She said.

“What sex?”

“Yes.”

“Me too.”

Gwen laughed, louder than she had in a long time, “Come find me Azzy.”

“I’ll be there soon Birdy.”

“Jason. How are you?” Tone asked as they sat at a cafe.

Hack and Tone had been meeting up monthly in River City for awhile now. They had soon realized after being plopped down in River City, a River City incredibly dissimilar to the one they had known, that they had been placed seven years before their arrival date. They had been young teenagers then, both sixteen, and so they had to struggle on the streets to survive for awhile. However, Tone had caught the eye of a modeling agency two years later and was now modeling in the city for advertising campaigns. With the money, the two had been able to rent an apartment and Hack had been able to work his way up into a government job that paid fine, but massively underutilized his talents.

“I’m doing well. It’s been a rough work week. Working for the government knows no bounds when it comes to giving me joy.” Hack replied, scorn evident on his face.

“You seem especially sour about it today.” Tone said.

“Well it’s because today is a pretty sour day.” Hack replied glumly.

They had gotten to know each other better over the last seven years and become good friends, so Tone understood how Jason worked. He was always the pessimist and this case was no different.

“And why is that?” She asked, entertaining him.

“Because today is the day we were supposed to get here. We’ve wasted seven years doing nothing. We can’t save our time, we can’t save all those people, and all I’m fucking doing is working a desk job.”

“Well if you put it that way it is quite depressing.” Tone replied.

“Sorry. I’m spoiling the mood.” Hack said glumly.

Tone flipped her hair behind her head, “No it’s fine. Or at least, I understand. It’s not easy living here.”

Tone once again considered the possibility of going out and using her powers as a superhero to help others. It would be quite fun. But as soon as the thought popped up, it was crushed with thoughts and ideas as to why that would be a poor decision.

“We should—” Hack said.

“What?”

“No it’s a dumb idea.”

“I was thinking we should use our superpowers again. You know? To help people? But it’s a dumb idea.”

“You think so too?” Tone asked curious.

“Yeah. I don’t really know why though.” Hack said confused, “Oh well it’s probably nothing.”

“No, I think it’s something!” Realization dawned on Tone. This reaction was completely against her nature. She was Valkyrie! Proud warrior. A fearless Vanir. She had fought giants, Brainstorm, Stormtroopers, you name it, she wasn’t afraid of it.

“This is unnatural! I am a daughter of the Earth herself! I am a fighter by blood! And yet I cannot surmount any desire to fight whatsoever!”

“You know that is weird.” Hack said, “Now that you mention it, I think that—”

“Jason.” Tone said, awestruck.

“No let me finish! This is important—”

“Jason!”

“Hey Tone! I know you’re a model and all, and you’re very important but that doesn’t mean—”

“Jason!!” Tone yelled, grabbing him and forcing him to turn around.

Across the street in an alleyway was a man, young, with long black hair. He was wearing a navy blue leather jacket and ripped up white t-shirt. He pulled a mask from the folds of his jacket. Hack was speechless.

“Kyle!” Tone cried out.

But the man had put on the mask and didn’t seem to hear her. As soon as the mask made contact with his face, he had disappeared. Tone stood up violently from her table and rushed across the street, high heels and all with her form fitting white dress.

“Tone! Tone!” Hack called out behind her and he groaned as he chased after her.

Tone barreled into the alleyway summoning her armor and weapons at will as they magically formed around her. Calling upon her senses she failed to find any perceptible trace of Kyle.

“Kyle!” She called out.

“He’s gone Tone.” Hack said, solemnly.

“He was never here.” A male voice said.

Tone raised her sword and shield in a defensive position as Hack yelped and jumped behind her.

“Who goes there?”

“Only a simple man who knows a few things.” the voice said.

A man emerged from the shadows with greasy brown hair, a green beret that covered one of his eyes which were animalistic and had very narrow pupils with bright yellow irises. He wore a brown blazer over a white shirt with an angel’s wing on it. He wore a leather belt and green corduroys that matched the color of his beret, like the color of moss. He was smiling at them with a huge, mischievous grin that brimmed from ear to ear. Something about him creeped Tone out a lot.

“I have many names, but some call me Mesh, The Mesher.” The man said with a mock bow, “and I trade in information.”

“Who was that I saw then?” Tone demanded.

“Normally I give such information for a price.” Mesh replied, but spying Tone’s rising anger he continued smartly, “But as it was I who tricked you into this arrangement in the first place so this one’s for free. I’m a shapeshifter see?”

The brown blazer Mesh wore magically shifted into a heavy overcoat, and then back to a blazer.

“I can change my appearance at will.”

Once again the man switched appearances, to copy Tone’s appearance, then Hack’s, Omega Girl’s, then finally Kyle’s, the same figure they had seen running into the alley. Tone’s heart immediately sank. She really hadn’t seen him. The feelings in her chest now crushed were something to ponder but at a later date.

“But not worry my dear. I know where he is.”

“He’s here?!”

Tone’s heart immediately jumped once again, the crushed feelings rapidly resurrecting into full fledged emotions.

“Ah, ah, ah! That’ll cost you! I’m in the business of commerce and trade after all.” Mesh replied with a wag of a finger. Tone composed herself.

“What do you want?”

“A favor.” Mesh said, “And not just any favor. There’s a gang of ruffians who’ve got a hoodie that I’d like back.”

“A hoodie?” Hack asked, “Just go to Wal-Mart!”

“It’s not just any hoodie! It’s a hoodie with sentimental value and I’d like it back! If not at the very least out of their hands.”

Mesh pulled out two wooden sticks from seemingly out of nowhere with leaves still on them and threw them on the ground.

“Swear on the sticks that you’ll do my favor, and I’ll tell you where your friend is.”

Tone looked at Hack who nodded.

“We don’t have a choice Tone.” Hack said.

Tone sighed, Jason was right. She would do this odd quest for this odd man. Why would he want her to swear on these twigs? It made no sense to her, but she would go with it anyway.

“We swear on the sticks that we will carry out your favor.” Tone declared.

“Good enough for me.” Mesh said, “Kyle is on his way right now to Cornwall, England to visit your long lost friend Gwen Snow. Here’s the address!”

He tossed them a piece of paper, Hack picked it up and looked at it, “Gwen’s alive!? England!?” He exclaimed in disbelief, “Hey! How do we know this information is credible!?”

But the man was already gone, having seemingly disappeared into thin air. Hack sighed, almost simultaneously with Tone.

“I don’t care for that man.” Tone said.

“He seemed alright. Shady, but alright.” Hack said.

“Something about him…rubs me the wrong way.” Tone said.

“Well, lets go check out this address.” Hack said, “If Kyle really is here. We have to see him. And if Gwen really is alive, then we’ve got to see her too.”

“Agreed.”

The plane touched down in London Heathrow and Kyle unbuckled his seatbelt and put away his tablet in a makeshift backpack he had purchased with “legitimate” funds he had taken from an ATM. He had also purchased the tickets with this money, two tickets for London for him and Nastia, his new slave. The concept of owning a slave was quite odd if not daunting. A person completely oriented to loving and serving him was a foreign concept. Even with Gwen, his first and only real love, she had never been completely devoted like Nastia was. When they ad been walking through security, Kyle had quickly reached out and manipulated the baggage scanners to hide the firearms that she had brought from the other dimension but she had told him later that if he had wanted her to be caught she would have willingly surrendered and turned herself in. It was baffling and confusing at the same time.

The eight hour flight had been more than he was used to so he cracked his neck and stretched his arms. He had spent the eight hours unable to sleep, thinking about what had happened. He had silently weeped to himself for several minutes. His world was lost according to the Norns and who was he to question fate? Nastia had slept the entire ride over, resting on his shoulder in apparent comfort and contentment. As he rolled his neck, Nastia who was to his right in the middle seat, got up and massaged his neck. She was quite skilled, finding the places he was especially tense and working and kneading them with her strong fingers and palms. She whispered in his ear, “Is this pleasing Master?”

He groaned to show his appreciation. Her hands were magical.

“I’m glad Master.” She whispered once again.

Two young girls across the aisle looked at Kyle and Nastia and the two of them began to giggle. They must have appeared as a couple to the casual onlooker. He didn’t know how to feel about that right about now. Gwen and him, a few hours ago really, had been dating. Now that seemed to be up in the air with the time they had lost. Gwen was pushing the age of becoming senile and he had a slave that he uncomfortably owned.

He didn’t have much time to dwell on the subject as the line to get out of the plane began to move and people slowly but surely moved down the aisle. Kyle put his hand on his shoulder, signaling that Nastia should stop which she graciously did, and he slung his backpack over his shoulder and headed down the aisle. Nastia did the same with her own backpack, following right on his heels.

As they walked through the airport, Kyle found the baggage claim sign and they headed that direction. They stopped for a quick second to exchange US bills for British pounds along the way and then walked to baggage claim. They stopped at the conveyor belt and when they had settled in to wait for their check-in bags, Kyle turned to Nastia.

“Let’s talk. We didn’t get a chance on the plane cuz you were asleep. Call me Kyle in public…actually just call me Kyle unless I say otherwise.”

“Yes Kyle. What do you wish to talk about?”

“Well…” Kyle said looking around, “Come closer, we’ll have to whisper. Give me a hug.”

Nastia did so, her slender form fitting into his as she rested her head on his shoulder and he whispered.

“Are you happy as my slave?”

“Oh yes Kyle!” Nastia said excitedly, “This is a wonderful experience for me.”

“You’re not hung up over Nigel?”

“It’s sad to see him go. But he prepared me for this. He prepared all the girls. We all loved him, but we knew we were playing a dangerous game eating at both tables. He told us to remain calm and to mourn him well but not over dramatically if he were to pass.”

“Wow. Nigel always was quite smart.”

“He was.” She replied. He could feel her chin adjust and her cheekbones rise as she smiled.

“How do you feel about me?”

“You’re my new master. I love and appreciate you. I understand this is new for you, but you wield command well. That much was evident with the Azrael. You saved me from death, you give me new purpose.”

Kyle contemplated those words.

“Our bags are here.”

“Let’s grab them then.”

They grabbed their check-in bags and made their way outdoors to hail a taxi. Grabbing a taxi and loading their bags in the trunk, Kyle turned to Nastia one last time,

“When we get to Gwen’s, I’m not exactly sure what to expect. Don’t call me Master there, and I’ll need some privacy with her. Is that alright?”

“Whatever you desire Kyle.”

“Really?”

“Really. I just want what you want.”

“Ok thank you.” Kyle replied.

He shuddered. The question of whether Nastia was operating under her free will or not was precarious and potentially unanswerable, but the possibility of her obeying him against her will with a mind controlled facade of love, appreciation and honeyed words perturbed him. He pushed that to the side though, as he finally noticed how heavy his eyelids felt, “Nastia, can I rest on your lap?”

“Of course Kyle.” She replied with a smile.

He leaned over, lying down on her soft thighs. She played with his hair, massaging his head as he lay there and her ministrations as well as the rhythmic white noise of traffic and the road quickly lulled him to sleep.

Hack was asleep beside Tone as they flew from River City to London. They had been traveling a long while, across the United States to D.C, then got on the plane to London soon after. She disliked planes. They scared her honestly. The only time she had been in planes was on Earth during battle. They were not safe inherently. They were not a sanctuary in the sky, rather an insect that Thor could strike down any second if he so chose. Thor wouldn’t do that, she told her self, but it didn’t help. She would have much preferred a ship, or to travel some magical way of travel, but Hack had insisted they fly. She acquiesced after much prodding and cajoling.

One thing the plane was good for was thinking. It was all she could really do on the plane. Watching in flight movies was not to her liking and she had no books or literature. So she sat and thought. She was quite excited at the prospect of seeing Kyle again. The fact that he had arrived was significant. Firstly, of course, it meant that it was possible, truly to begin work on saving their time back from which they came. With Kyle back, they had a leader whom they could trust to move forward. Kyle was the one who was able to get them back to their time in the first place so they really couldn’t make moves otherwise. She had considered attempting to contact Armor Man as he surely had the resources to make such a device, if not owning the technology already, but she had magically regressed from that thought as well, a thought she would come back to later. Seeing Gwen was a bonus as well as Tone and Hack had thought she was dead for the longest time as they had not heard from her. The things that disturbed her about Kyle’s arrival were twofold; her strong emotional response at the possibility of seeing him, and the fact that even now, her desire to fight was non-existent. She had always chalked that fact up to the idea that once Kyle arrived they could fight with clear direction, but she had no such desire. No such desire to save, to fight, to save those from trouble. None whatsoever, just keep a relatively low and unassuming profile. Granted she was now a model, but she was an amateur model, nothing special, only for local advertisements that was it.

As for her feelings, she, through the time processing on the plane, was forced to admit that her feelings for Kyle had persisted over time. Not only that, but they had grown, matured, and even now become idealized. The Kyle she now, dare she say it, loved was a perfect man. Of course he couldn’t possibly be perfect in real life, but the image she had of him was pretty damn close, and the thought disturbed her. She needed to get her head on straight and make realistic expectations. With Gwen alive, Kyle would undoubtedly be back with her, so any feelings she had were irrelevant and pointless anyway. The two were in love so it mattered not if she loved the man.

As the plane started descending, they hit a few bouts of turbulence which caused Tone to grab the armrests of her seats as hard as she could, breaking them. A small child, a young girl across the isle, whose father had been snoring the entire flight, eyes opened in shock. The child mouthed, “You’re a superhero!” Tone put a finger to her lips and made a shh sound to indicate that the child should keep her super strength a secret. The child nodded vigorously, copying her motion. Tone stuck the armrests back in place and quickly cast a spell silently to fix the arms.

“Hey…Tone?” Hack’s groggy voice came from behind him, “Did you just use magic?”

“Of course I did. Every Vanirian knows a little magic.”

“Yeah but you haven’t used magic for seven years.”

She thought about this, “You’re right. It’s really been a long time hasn’t it?”

“Gwen.” Kyle said after he hopped out of the taxi and paid the fare.

The mansion was situated by a lake in a rolling green field. It was a beautiful colonial style mansion with a large balcony that overlooked the lake from the left side of the building.

“Kyle. Would you like me to wait outside?” Nastia asked, getting the bags out of the car for the two of them.

“No. You should come in too. And thank you for getting the bags. I’m sorry, that should’ve been my responsibility.” He said looking at her.

“Oh don’t worry. It’s my pleasure, I am the slave you’re the master.”

“Chivalry still exists, no matter what.” Kyle replied.

He walked over and picked up his bags. Carrying them over to the door he knocked three times with the ornate door knocker. A butler answered the door,

“Might I help you?”

“I’m here to see Gwen.” Kyle said.

“Ms. Snow is no longer taking visitors—”

With a jolt, the butler stood upright and stiff for just a second, and then returned to his normal states.

“My apologies Master…”

“Albinn.” Kyle replied.

“Master Albinn. I am Mistress Snow’s personal butler. Abensworth. Please come in.”

Albinn, of course, was not Kyle’s last name. He was the blood heir of Brainstorm, his real last name was Chang, but he resented that name thoroughly. His hero, the man who had truly shaped him was Parker Albinn, or Echo. Echo was a freedom fighter with amazing sound powers. He had taught Kyle about being hero, sacrificing his life for Kyle soon after meeting him. His dying words to him were, “You’re a good kid Kyle. Like a son to me or something. Never forget who you are, a good kid.”

He had never forgotten those words and taken his sonship seriously, adopting the name Albinn to replace Chang as his last name as both an act of defiance against Brainstorm, and an act of honoring his hero. He realized suddenly, that this world was different. Was it possible to meet Parker again?

He tucked the thought away for later. The mansion was very beautiful and strangely familiar in a way. It was like the way he’d imagine Gwen would lay out her mansion if she had one, though something about it also seemed quite lifeless and depressing. All of the curtains were closed, the furniture and art on the walls all dark in feel and color. Even the grand entryway had a dark feel with an old maroon carpet and dark marble tiling. What had happened to Gwen to make this happen for her?

“Master Albinn, Mistress Snow is in the Master bedroom. Take the elevator up to the second floor and turn right, it’s at the end of the hall. The elevator is the door underneath the grand staircase.” The Butler said.

“Thank you Abensworth. This is my friend, Nastia.”

Nastia bowed, and Abensworth bowed back. The way they did so was eerily similar. Was Abensworth Gwen’s slave?

“Well met then.” Abensworth said, “I will leave you to your own devices as I have other matters to attend to.”

“Thank you.” Kyle replied.

Abensworth bowed and then exited the room. Nastia looked at him, as if asking for direction,

“Stay here. Keep an eye out. I have a bad feeling in my gut and I don’t know why. Something’s off.”

“Of course Kyle.”

He went to the elevator door and rode it up to the second, although he could’ve just taken the stairs. He went to the end of the hall as indicated, passing many doors in the process. This mansion was exceptionally large. At the end of the hallway was a set of double doors which he lightly opened and peaked through. There on the bed was an old woman, decrepit and wrinkled with age.

“Gwen?” Kyle asked.

“Kyle!” She said with a smile.

There was an IV in her arm with a bag nearby. Medical equipment surrounded her, there was a constant beeping sound in the background. Classic 20’s music played in the background, a woman’s voice, gravelly like a record player. Kyle however, realized, that he was not alone.

To his right, a man appeared shrouded in face, he extended his hand as dark beams of energy fired from his hands. Kyle dove out of the way, extending his own hands and pulling the TV on the wall to himself. Rapidly forming, the TV transformed itself into a protective shield for him that glowed white with energy.

“Who the hell are you?!”

“I am The Jabberwocky.” The man said with a deep voice, heavy and laden with power.

“What the hell have you done with Gwen?!”

“Oh many things!” The man said, smiling, “But only one matters right now!”

The man extended his hands and fired a quick bolt of darkness at Gwen. Kyle cried out, but it was too late. The beeping from the medical equipment was a single tone, signaling death.

Kyle roared with anger and anguish, forming the TV shield into a two handed sword. With a powerful leap, Kyle flew straight at his foe. But in his anger, he had left himself wildly vulnerable, and he was hit with a bolt of darkness to the head. He hit the ground hard, the sword clattering to his side, as the darkness consumed him.