The Convention
The Secret society and secreter meeting
They walk among us, some rustling silently in the shadows, some taking bold steps forward, some lurking to pounce in fits of unadulterated evil. They have been called many names in every work of pulp fiction, comic book lore, and folk legend, been spoken of in every genre from the paranormal to the obscene: vampire, siren, witch, Svengali, and many more; the list grows longer in every language. This is the secret world of the mind controller. Little is known for certain about these mysterious men and women, only stories that range from the ridiculous to the sublime, from playfully compelling people to act like chickens to robbing banks with nothing more than a withdrawal slip greater than anything the bank could hold in its vaults.
As with all things, the reality touches upon these extremes, but lies mostly in between. Bending bullets out of the way is a different mental art, one better left to the fields of sport- but bending the mind of the shooter so that the bullet is never fired, on the other hand... the impossible becomes merely implausible in the hands of a mind controller. How else to explain the disappearances, the faces on the milk cartons, the complete reversals of ability and ambition, or the deaths without bodies?
There is good to be had, to be sure. A closer look, taken with an unbiased eye and a knack for seeing the method in the madness, reveals multiple layers to this shadowy world. There are rescuers, ethical whistle blowers, government informants, and muscle squads scattered throughout, all attempting in their own way to regulate a realm of unlimited possibility. Scratch a bit deeper, and there are those who are comfortable in their own skin, good-natured men and women who are no different than the layperson except for, perhaps, a spouse more adoring than normal or a circle of friends tighter than the usual.
But power corrupts, and the power of the mind corrupts more insidiously than any other. Too many have trod the path of good intentions to the pits of hell. And this secret society is at a crossroads, one that may see countries fall at the hands of a crazed, power-drunk master or mistress, one that could perpetrate acts of cruelty unimagined even by those who have been to the darkest heart of the Balkans, or who have seen the genocidal warfare in Africa, or those who lived under the mad dictatorships of South America.
In the beginning, mind control was a birthright, a gift carried in the blood: the strong mind that could persuade beyond human comprehension, the silver tongue that sung its listeners into compliance, the penetrating gaze that stripped away all defenses. Most tales of the paranormal stem from real mind controllers who were mistaken for superhuman creatures because of their talents. Some find it flattering in these modern times, but others do not; it is the height of folly to call a controller with ice blue eyes a vampire, and imperils one’s ability to remember who they are in the morning.
Then, with the dawn of industry, higher education, and a greater social emphasis on obtaining wealth, the born controllers found themselves competing against the learned controllers: the watch swingers, the stage magicians, and those not born with presence but who had learned how to impose their will on others, often through long periods of slavery themselves. These became ever more complex in the twentieth century, when technology truly came into play and the art of subliminals was perfected. The code breakers of the Great War were the first of the modern era, followed by crude attempts at subliminals buried in early film.
But it was not until the advent of television and the in-depth study of chemistry that the modern era truly unfolded. While many of the communes of the ‘60s were simply harem masters, others had less beneficent ends in mind, and they are not spoken of in the community-for they are the well-known stuff of nightmares outside of it.
This brings us to the age of the Internet, and to an explosion of alarming proportions within the mind control community. The sheer number of newcomers has not been the issue- but a born controller, or a master learned controller, can use these extra tools to create and destroy in ways never imagined before, greater than the scope of the meanest warlords, the most twisted cult leaders, and the most insane madmen. Not only do the Internet and other phone services offer an easy means of obtaining sustenance for large groups, but they also allow for tracking weaker minds. Strikes are much swifter and more efficient, making it more difficult for mundane law enforcement to trace and capture those who have stepped outside the boundaries.
So the scene is set for the hundredth secret meeting, an annual tradition started in Paris as mesmerists started gaining a foothold in the mainstream. The first were congresses of top leaders attempting to set parameters that were largely ignored even by those who wrote them. As the years wore on and the community became more arrogant, it became more of a carnival where skills were demonstrated, battles were fought for sport, new subjects were hunted and displayed, and the latest technologies were showcased and copied. Here, the largest cult masters rub elbows with the greenest of raw amateurs. Here, new groups come into full blossom and old ones wither away. Here, lessons on ethics are given and ignored, while tools are sold and subjects are distributed. Despite the secrecy of this subculture, there is always a public area available, for those mundane people who find this world fascinating- and to serve as a hunting ground for the more avaricious controllers. But the real action, as ever, is on the lower floors, as it is this year in Chicago.