The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

“I...I’m really, really sorry. Ma’am.”

Bastian is livid. No kidding, he’s been forced to mock me by some invisible presence. The castle’s spirit, I imagine.

“It’s alright...Still, can’t they give this Queen thing a rest already? I don’t want to rule shit, especially not the chaos born from billions of maddened psyches!”

“I can’t promise a way out of this, but at the very least, I’ll offer whatever assistance you need as long as you’re kept here.”

“Thanks, that’s probably the best I can have...actual companionship.”

I’m glad Bastian’s here, but still...I feel dejected. I grab whatever’s the closest to my hand. A glass of orange juice. Will do, I suppose.

“Christ, what a mess.” I sigh. “Well, there’s nothing of TV, so how about I wrap up this Lost Angels story, Bastian?”

“I’ll listen, ma’am.”

“Swell.”

Kimberley barely had time to wonder what was happening to the African-American and her own weaker half—the miscellany of Changelings and Dreamers on the brink had suddenly increased, turning a bustling street into a crowd. Worse, the two muscle-bound dudes that had picked up Janet and Lilith in their moment of Aspect-induced vulnerability had split up. They hadn’t set foot in Hollywood for two minutes, and things were already going to shit.

“Somebody just stake me now.”

She could only try to keep up with one of her two entranced companions. The choice of whom seemed obvious. Lilith was her other half, the one who knew how to resist the Nightmare. Janet, on the other hand, was not only a complete stranger, but also virtually useless. She had skills, sure, but before she had the chance to really adapt to the Dreamscape, she had been mercilessly devoured by the Aspect of Lust. Not a whole lot of chances of recovery right there.

And yet...a primal want was swelling in Kim’s heart. One that had eaten at her being long before Nightmare. An half-disowned, fully hidden void she was all too familiar with, and still didn’t know how to deny.

She growled, and went after Janet, shoving a ogre out of the way. She briefly saw Orchid’s bright red head foliage, and set out to follow her, when she felt someone catch her arm.

“Hey! Where do you you think you’re doing, young la...”

She spun around, a terrifyingly hateful look in all three of her eyes. In the midst of the sudden fury, she had an odd thought. “Haven’t had one of those when I was british.” The dignified-looking, aged female changeling with elfish traits didn’t have time to finish her admonishment. Kim had broken free of her uncommitted grasp. Worse, she, in turn, grabbed her arm, twisted it in a painful wrestling hold. She readied her elbow for a devastating downward smash and bellowed...

“Get the FUCK OFF ME!”

As punctuated by the chilling sound of cracking bone.

“Don’t get cocky just because I’ve stayed put against Pride, wankers.”

The old elf lady is too shocked for words. The hairy brute whose dignity she had misguidedly tried to protect gasps. He doesn’t let much of anything faze his this days, but Kim’s outburst managed to appall even him. He tries to grab her, give the feral brat the correction she deserves. But she’s gone, her small frame lost in the summoned crowd.

“Good for him, too.”

“What do you mean, ma’am? Surely he was too strong for her.”

“Don’t trust appearances in this clusterfuck, Bastian. A big-ass Changeling might just have taken that aspect because he likes watching heavyweight wrestling. As for original Lilith, well...”

I put the glass of orange juice—best one I’ve ever tasted, must be fresh from the dream orchard—and sigh.

“Maybe that makes me a unreliable narrator, but all this time I was retelling what Lilith said to Janet, I knew it was just a stinking lie. Especially that part about having become a vampire from a bite instead of her desires reshaping her.”

“Hm. You must have recounted it before we met.” Quite rightly observes Bastian.

“Yeah, I did. Anyway, she’s right about the fact that vampires can pass off their form ‘traditionally’, but Kim sure as hell wasn’t involved. My memories are fuzzy, as you might imagine, but I dreamt about her long before I dreamt about Janet. She turned on her own.”

“She...doesn’t sound like a pleasant girl, all of a sudden.”

“You might say that.” I snicker half-heartedly. “She never went full evil, and always ultimately owned up to her hatred, but I can tell you, she didn’t wait for Nightmare to become a beast. Here, I’ll show you what I mean.”

Kim had ended up losing sight of Orchid, but she still knew where she was, some ten meters ahead. “How do I know that?” She wondered. “You damn well know how, you stupid kid. You’re turning into a Changeling again.”

She wasn’t doubling in size, nor was she growing animal parts. For any onlooker, she merely looked a bit malnourished. And she was—but dreamshaping herself a snake wasn’t going to solve anything. Her growing urges could only be sated by destruction. Already she pictured herself making the douchebag that kidnapped Janet regret existing. Oh, he would live...but only because she couldn’t help it.

The black woman’s distant heartbeat pounded through the teenager’s veins. She felt her excitement...no, her arousal. She felt safe in the alpha male’s arms. She felt loved. In other words, she was weak. And Kim’s inner monster loved herself some weakness.

“I swear to fuck, Pearl, if I make it out of this sane, you are so dump...”

Silence. The vampire could no longer feel Janet’s lifeforce.

“Oh, fuck me.”

The crowd quickly began to clear up...revealing an entirely different Dreamscape. Gone was the bustling, blindingly colorful street. Kimberley now stood on a dark, empty expanse of pavement. One by one, the last stragglers faded into other layers of the Dreamscape, leaving her alone in a sea of darkness. Kim prepared for the seemingly inevitable assault from some manner of darkness elemental when lights flared off a bit ahead of her, revealing a gigantic, featureless building. And above it, in the distance, glowed the timeless Hollywood Sign.

Kimberly groaned.

“Oh yeah, of couuurse, take her to Lost Angels official fucking haystack, why don’t you.”

When she began to walk towards the imposing studio, it was less with a hero’s stride than an angry commuter’s frustrated pace. Nothing, on the exterior, betrayed the chaos that laid beyond the hangar’s metal doors. She could still remember her time inside Downtown’s walls, her discussions with her fellow slaves of the Tenets. The ever-latent fear of Hollywood’s madness. Two places, in particular, crystallized the Anchored’s aversion of nightmare—The Heart of Sin, where desire ruled supreme...and the Studios, the single most layered place in the metropolis, possibly even the world.

Few had gone inside, and, naturally, even fewer returned. Hell, this thing had been conjured up by thousands of lunatic minds even before Pearl turned into the Aspect of Lust. It wouldn’t be wrong to say it was the oldest peril of the Lost Angels. And the faint trail of Janet’s lifeforce led right to it. Whatever was the douchebag’s intentions for kidnapping Janet, it probably wasn’t sex.

“Whelp, here goes.”

With a low, guttural sound, the metal doors parted...revealing a quiet little mountainside road, ocre rocky formations on one side and cacti on the other. The road led to an empty corral, the entrance portal of which was adorned with an ominous cow skull. Kim barely even flinched when she turned to see the doors, and indeed, any trace of the studio building, had vanished.

“Oookay, what movie is this?” She wondered out loud, absent-mindedly stepping inside the ranch.

Little was known about the Studio’s inner workings, but it was common knowledge that it was a big reenactment of Hollywood movies. Every Hollywood movie ever. It was a place where Changelings forsook their past lives and were reborn as literal characters. Even in this big, empty ranch under the night’s sky, Kim could sense the thousands upon thousands of layers reenacting all the scenes that the City of Angels had ever brought to life.

And to find Janet in that chaos, she first had to know which film she was currently in. She hoped that, at least, it had appeared before her because she knew it, or because it reflected her life somehow. If it was some random direct-to-DVD crapfest, she wasn’t finding her way through the Studio anytime soon. Fortunately, she knew this place in real life. Maybe.

“Isn’t that Beachwood Canyon?”

As a child of LA, she was bound to have visited the area near the Hollywood Sign, and Beachwood Canyon was the area directly under it. It didn’t exactly eliminate a lot of movies, but it was a start.

But as she was dredging through her memories to determine which movie this was, a lone lightbulb behind her, right under the cow’s skull, flickered to life. She turned around...and saw a round-faced, forty-something cowboy walk to her. He wore a white Stetson hat, an earth-colored heavy coat that was entirely too warm for the climate, even at night, and a red scarf. Kim recognized him from somewhere...but damned if she knew what.

“Howdy.”

“Huh...Hi?”

Awkward pause.

“Beautiful evening.”

Kim gave the cowboy a quizzical look. What the hell kind of movie was this?

“I guess?”

“Sure wanna thank ya for coming all the way up here to see me from that nice hotel downtown.”

It was a high rise business building, actually, but the similarity could go a long way to explain why she was in this particular reenactment.

“Look, who the hell are you, bozo?”

“Ah, here’s a gal who wants to get right down to it.” Said the eerie cowboy with a smile. “Kinda anxious to get to it are ya?”

“Yeah, as a matter of fact I am.”

“Man’s attitude...A man’s attitude goes some ways, the way his life will be. Is that something you might agree with?”

Kim frowned. That old dude clearly had a problem. Weird as he was, though, he only seemed harmful to her patience.

“Okay, dude, let’s stop reenacting. I’m looking for a plant woman. Did you s...”

“Fuck this.”

At a loss for what to do next, Kim reverted to her go-to plan—a punch to the fucking face.

The very next moment, the hostile tomboy found herself in broad daylight. Her first reflex was to shape the Dreamscape to night, but the weave was, once again, too strong. As her skin started burning, her reptilian instincts kicked in, and she ran to the nearest shadow, behind a wall.

“I. Fucking. HATE. Changeling worlds!” She yelled, rubbing her burn marks. “Oh well, I found the fast forward button at least.”

She was in some kind of villa with more windows than walls. Hell, the corridor right next to the entrance was basically just a showcase for the nice pool outside. She was tempted to look to the horizon, check if she was still in LA, but her attention was caught when someone rang the bell and opened the glass door without waiting for the answer.

“Adam Kesher?” He asked.

That someone was best described as a goddamn human cannonball. Fat, yes, but tall and hefty enough to discourage anyone from calling him on it. It looked like he could handily defeat Kim and Janet just by laying on them. Weren’t the Studios supposed to feature only human-looking Changelings? Wondered the vampire.

“Adam Kesher?” He insisted, on the exact same tone.

Between the gorilla and Kim, a woman with a pink-stained, sleeveless shirt came out of one of the room. She inquired, quite rightly, what was he doing here. Some douchebag also came to confront the intruder, who just kept asking for Adam Kesher.

“Wait,” Muttered Kim. “I know that scene.”

She focused on her memories as fisticuffs were engaged. Yes, she definitely had seen that somewhere. And she wasn’t that much of a movie aficionado, mostly watching them alongside her Mom or Pearl. She looked down to concentrate, and saw herself clad in some kind of black suit, also stained with pink.

“Oooooh shit, I remember. It’s that movie with the lesbian scenes.”

Yes, she remembered now. Her mom was a fan of this famous director guy, known for trippy movies. A few months after Kim had hooked up with Pearl Wiggins following the trauma that scared her off boys, Jenny figured she would assuage her foster daughter’s concerns as to her budding sexuality by showing her a legitimately good movie that happened to have softcore lesbian porn scenes. It couldn’t really be overstated how comprehensive Jenny Tamiyama was with sex ed.

Back to the movie’s reenactment, the huge guy had soundly bested his opponents.

“Adam Kesher?”

She was in the shadows for now, but she really didn’t want to engage this fucking guy. She didn’t have her Anchored powers anymore, after all. Luckily, she knew what movie she was in now, and thus how to escape it. She had to find a link to a related movie. Same director, same genre, that kind of thing. And though she couldn’t remember the director’s name, she knew he had a long and celebrated career. Most notably that one TV series...but how to link to it?

“Adam Kesher! Come with me!”

Oh shit. She was playing that guy’s target? She was a girl, for God’s sake! But no time to think. Kim bolted off past the gorilla, looking frantically for something reminiscent of a quant 90’s tv show. She touched the golf clubs—nothing. She looked inside the kitchen. Nothing looked out of place.

“Shit shit shit think Kim, think...”

And suddenly, there it was. The link, sitting gloriously on a countertop. She sprinted to it, Musclor right on her tail, hoping to shit she remembered that show correctly.

The scene had changed once again. The environment was still too sunny for her tastes, but it was definitely on the friendly side. She was in a restaurant, with wooden walls and a cozy, understated decoration. There were a lot of people, but strangely enough, Kim didn’t feel the same kind of shimmering tension Changelings, no matter what their type, typically gave off. She wasn’t sure if she had reached the reenactment she wanted, but at the very least, it was the same kind of deal.

The vampire looked at herself. She wore a woman’s long sleeved shirt, with a pattern reminiscent of a forest in Winter. And a black puddle skirt.

“Ugh. Well, at least this time I’m playing a girl.”

slowly dimmed the sunlight to a manageable level, then surveyed the crowded restaurant. A middle-aged waitress in a red and white uniform stood out, apparently listening to a client. Kim, moved into view, and saw him. A thirty something man with a sharp black suit and disciplined hair. He announced to the waitress.

“You know, this is, excuse me, a damn fine cup of coffee.”

Kim almost revealed her fangs with her triumphant smile. She was right where she wanted to be. What had been a fleeting thought in the state of an emergency grew in focus. She now understood why she had instinctively rushed to the coffee maker in the kitchen. Because it would lead her here, in Twin Peaks.

“Yes! I thought I remembered that coffee thing.”

Memories of lazily watching DVDs with her Asian mother came back. Her favorite director’s name was David Lynch, and he had a hand in creating this TV show. While odd and quirky, Twin Peaks was at least rooted in reality...And its protagonist was a paragon of open-mindedness and efficiency. If Kim was to know how to find Janet in this mess, this was about the best place to start.

The waitress departed. Kim stepped forward, trying to remember who the hell she was supposed to play here. Maybe there was some kind of prompter somewhere? After all, she saw no other girl like her around, hinting at this acting business being somewhat fluid, jumping from one Changeling actor to the next, waiting to be reenacted, with varying degrees of fidelity, over and over again.

But nothing obvious appeared in this very peculiar Dreamscape, and Kim wondered if she was going to have to wing it...And then, suddenly, she gasped. Something entered her. It was over with a single breath, and Audrey wondered what “it” even was. Bah, no matter. She took on a sultry look, and approached the government man.

“Hello...” She greeted with her best smile. “My name is Audrey Horne.”

“Federal Bureau of Investigation, Special Agent Dale Cooper.”

Kim wasn’t exactly sure what the hell kind of prompt that was, but it sure helped her engage the conversation smoothly. Unlike the previous movie, she had seamlessly integrated into the Twin Peaks reenactement. As something of a floozy, sure, but it was better than the battered wife. In any event, here she was, seated across the table from the Dale Cooper actor, having swooned and fidgeted for a good few minutes, and now free to adlib for a spell, hoping the Changeling had half his character’s mystery acumen.

“Say, Mister Special Agent...You wouldn’t happen to have seen a man escorting a strange looking woman around here, would you?”

“Miss Horne, I find that strange is sometimes the utmost logical thing to be.”

“Is that so? We’ve been looking for this woman, costumed like a flower. Some of our clients have reported her, my father wants to know if she exists at all. He has this big project, you see, and thinks the hotel must look its best for the contractors.”

“And what do you think?”

“I think he’s being boring.” She smiled, hiding a great anger at having to play the rich airhead. “Still, I’m curious.”

The well-groomed special agent took another bite at his especially hard-boiled eggs, then smiled.

“Well, you are in luck then. Among my dreams, at least those I do not believe related to Laura Palmer’s case, I did see someone matching your description. And, excuse me, but damn good costume! She should work with the networks with a craft like that.”

“So I’ve heard. Where did you...dream she was?”

“I’m sorry to say I can’t remember the Great Northern hotel. More like a garden. Arboretum, perhaps. Ring any bells?”

“It might be, Mister Special Agent.”

She whipped out the last friendly smile she could muster and got up.

“Thank you. I’ll let you to your own investigation. A pleasure meeting you.”

“I assure you, Miss Horne, the pleasure was all mine.”

Orchid was in her arboretum, busy growing a sexier plant woman for her Mother Tree. She was still, content to just absorb her nutrients and listen to the sweet songs broadcast to her and her simple, non-humanoid sisters. She was, like them, to be a good, lovely flower to join the Heart of Sin, become part of Lust itself, and while some walled-up part of her wanted to break out, Orchid knew that was silly. Flowers grow where their soil is.

“Ah, here you are. I must say...kinda disappointed.”

The sweet, obedient flower didn’t care for the gruff, unladilike voice. She just wanted to listen to the song a be a good g...KAPOW! The script now read “KIM approaches ENTRANCED ORCHID and dispenses her a PUNCH TO THE FUCKING FACE.”

“Ow, what the FUCK?!”

The special agent rubbed her cheek, giving a furious look to the pale teenager.

“I’d say I’m sorry but I’m not. You let yourself be captured, you overrated government twat.”

“Oh, sorry I couldn’t resist the most powerful Changeling in LA, kid.” Retorted the black woman, with great emphasis on the last word. “Where are we anyway?“

“The Studios, where the most boring of Changelings make movies come to life. But never mind that, Hollywood has caught you once, you don’t want to linger for the sequel. Especially not in this clusterfuck.”

“Agreed. How did you find me anyway?”

“Followed you into the haystack, then got Dale Cooper to set me on the right direction.”

As Lilith talked, Janet sat on a garden chair to recover from her emotions, raised an eyebrow.

“Wait. Dale Cooper? As in...”

“Twin Peaks, yeah. Welcome to the Studios.”

“Damn. I mean, I’m not FBI, but guy was a major inspiration.”

“Better him than Walter fucking Skinner, I guess.”

Orchid acquiesced, then looked around her. That unassuming greenhouse had felt like bloody Paradise. That was scary enough without having part of her yearning to go back. A blow to her already wobbly pride, this was. Fucking aspects. She briefly entertained the idea

“Lil...huh, Kimberley?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving me. I owe you a big one.”

Kim felt her blood rush. Another feeling she hadn’t experienced in a while. A pure, visceral thrill. Pride at its rawest. She had missed it. And she knew gloating wouldn’t help her feeling it again.

“You did save my ass from Griffith. We’re even.”

“True enough.”

“Let’s tear ass.”

Without further ado, the black woman got up and followed the teenager. She didn’t see the point of her inspecting the walls, but it did tear a hole in the wall as soon as she touched the most modern thing there was in the room—a clock. And in stark contrast to the soft, diffuse light that bathed the arboretum, beyond laid a street in the dead of night.

“Some noir movie set in the 90’s, I imagine.” Explained Kim. “You coming or what?”

“Yeah, huh...Where’s Lilith?”

“They took her, too. But I didn’t sense her presence coming here. She’s probably in the Heart of Sin. And lest we want Ryûjin on our asses, that’s where we’re going anyway.”

“Okay, sorry for the interruption then.”

Without further ado, Orchid walked with her usual stride to the dark city beyond the wall.

“So how does this work, exactly?” Inquired Orchid as they walked through rainless storm. “Changelings play...movies? Is there a big cosmic DVD menu we can use?”

“Nah, it’s an association thing. I went from Mulholland Drive to Twin Peaks by touching a coffee machine.”

“So we have to find something related to Hollywood?”

“Yeah, preferably the Dolby Theatre.” Precised Kimberley.

“Why?”

“It’s called the Heart of Sin nowadays.”

“Shit, I thought the Academy Awards were corrupt.”

Orchid looked around, looking for any trace of old Tinseltown, but the city’s style didn’t look so noir after all, even with all those fedoras walking around. It had a far more unpleasant color to it...The derelict yet draconian seemings of a dystopia. Worse, she could dreamshape the odd beer can, but not switch to the daylight her leaves yearned for. Which was, she had come to discover, one of the easiest tricks. Something was going on here.

“Kim? I think that’s a movie best enjoyed on the other side of the screen. I think we should pick the first thing even remotely LA.”

“What’s got your tampons in a wad?”

“Never mind that, hurry!”

Kim shrugged and complied, unwilling to be the twat that argues for patience and caution for once. So she looked, but the place was just too damn dark to find anything related to Hollywood’s flamboyance. That was kind of annoying, in fact, as if whatever was in charge of the Studios was getting cocky, trying to trap them inside. The very idea made her grind her teeth. The scavenger hunt had been fun, but she was smack dab in Hollywood, goddamit, why would she have to fight to get to it?

Her growing, petty rage was not left unanswered by the Studio. Suddenly, on one end of the street, right in the middle of the road, stood four three figure with pale, emaciated faces and raven black hats and coats.

“Who are these dildos?” Sighed Kim, unimpressed.

“Ooooh shit, I knew it. You got us inside friggin’ Dark City.”

“Never saw it. Should I be worried?”

“Fuck yes you should. One major plot point is that you can’t escape it.”

As if on cue, the creepy dudes walked towards them, knives usheathed, with the slow and steady pace of boogeymen. Orchid threw her hand forward, try to block their path by twisting the road, but whatever control she had had gone through the window the instant they walked in.

“I doubt the movie’s rules supercede the Dreamscape’s, Orchid”

“I certainly hope so. Those pale guys are only three of many and they’ve got the Dreamscape by the balls! We gotta find a way out, now!”

“Tcht. Wanted to kick ass...but you’re right.”

The scope of their search now considerably narrowed, the two escapees set their sights on some sort of animated billboard featuring a tropical sort of bimbo, up above a bridge. Orchid thought fast, determining the most direct way there, and bolted off the next moment. Kim followed suit...as did the Strangers. They were going at “dramatic moment featuring a dead end” pace. Way too slow for the women...but would touching the link work this time? Or would the movie’s rules deny their escape?

The scene was radically different. Calm, comforting. It was a tropical resort exclusively furnished with wooden huts, a melding of man and nature. It could have been the set for some kind of globetrotting action movie, but judging from their tourist outfits and the giggles coming out of the huts, it was safest to bet on some romantic comedy.

“Well that was underwhelming.” Sighed Orchid.

“Yeah. And now we’re in a tropical island. At night, thank God.”

She threw her arms to the sides, twirled around and screamed.

“How are we supposed to get out of this shit now?!”

“That does strike me like a particularly effective prison.” Analyzed Orchid, back in pro-mode. “Every single occidental film ever made...It’s one hell of a labyrinth.”

“It’s a fucking PAIN IN THE ASS!”

“Tell me about it.” Intervened a third voice.

Orchid and Kim spun around. On the fringe of the tropical forest stood a familiar woman. Not the Aspect, but the next best thing.

“Mother Tr...” Orchid caught herself in time. “Flora!”

“Yes, my dear little sprout. Be glad I caught up to you before you went too deep.” Smiled the Aspect’s servant, before turning to Kim and frowning. “And you nasty little thug just had to try and steal my prize, hadn’t you?”

“At least I’m not Pearl’s third wheel, fuckwit.”

The blue flowers on Flora’s temples turned crimson, but the Changeling tried to keep a poker face.

“Yes, well, speaking of irrational affections, why the hell did you have to go after some girl you barely know when you have a perfectly good lover who’s shaking HEAVEN AND EARTH TO GET YOU BACK, YOU LITTLE BITCH?!”

Flora did not have the sturdiest composure.

“What’s your excuse, huh?!” Continued the flowery Changeling. “Pretending being with her isn’t the true you? Is this about freedom? Some other teenage flick reason? Because I can’t wrap my head around the ass-backwards concept that you would fear the Dream so much you would abandon your whole fucking family, since you were the craziest part of it to fucking begin with!”

“Well, haven’t you heard entirely too much about my folks...” Growled Kim, revealing her canines and third eye in full.

“Of course I heard. We all know you in the Heart. Do you have any idea how much we love the Aspect? How much she did for the women of LA? How much it fucking hurts when she cried over her love being the sextoy of some Anchored power-asshole? DO YOU?!”

Orchid stepped back. She was no stranger to domestic disputes, what with her being a love child, it was the first time she saw a fight with a third party. Kim looked absolutely furious. Her eyebrows were twitching, her teeth grinding. It still felt a bit out of left field when she asked...

“What about you lot luring a secret agent just to brainwash her, or using a Languid to house Lilith, or, by the way, kidnapping some kid’s nanny, huh? What about you basically being fucking supervillains?!”

“Why, you little moron, it was all to get you out of that dictatorship Downtown.” Rightly pointed out Flora. “I swear to fuck, for all your twenty-one years, you’re just a snotty brat. Flipped right the hell out once you realized you were the one who needed pr...”

“I WON’T LET YOU ENSLAVE JANET, YOU FUCKER!”

Startled, Orchid watched Kim lunging at Flora and brutally bashing her down with her shoulder. And pinning her down on the sand. And...biting her neck.

“AAAARGH!”

Suddenly, the black woman realized that what Lilith told her about Dream-vampires could have been not entirely accurate. Flora’s struggle weakened as sick gulping sounds became the heartbeat to this grisly scene. Her sense of duty screamed for her to do something—this was her childhood friend, however twisted, that was getting drained here. But she sensed something in Kim. Something dark...and worryingly powerful. Orchid’s survival instincts were burying the needle.

Kim eventually let go of Flora, leaving her inert on the floor. Dead, if it wasn’t for the fact that Changelings couldn’t die.

“Aaaah...” She sighed in a deep voice. “Now that’s more like it.”

The vampire searched her pocket, and grabbed a key. She turned around...and Orchid was horrified to meet her gaze. Her three eyes now had crimson red irises.

“Let’s see you being cocky, you bitch-ass studio.”

She clenched her fist around the key, and roared. The heavy weave was shaken into submission, and Orchid witnessed dozens of movie scenes, known and obscure, flip around them like a slideshow. Soon, they were back at the ranch in Mulholland Drive, in which stood a bruised and confused cowboy. Without so much as a word, Kim charged him and kicked him straight in the solar plexus. It sounded like a cannonball. The poor guy flew, shattering the Dreamscape as he hurtled through the air. Twin metal doors stood in the middle of the deserted ranch, leading to the empty driveway outside the studio.

With a heavy, violent step, Kimberley walked to Orchid and tapped her shoulder. She went through the busted gates, stepping over the unconscious actor, then yelled at the full moon.

“This party’s getting CRAZY!”