The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Trapped like a mouse beneath the cat’s claw…

Mayor Goldstein awakens in a darkened room. Even as his perception slowly returns, he only manages to find himself that much more disoriented and confused. There’s a small circle of light shining down from above, illuminating just the immediate area around him. Slowly pulling himself up from his lying position, the man swings his feet out over the edge of his bunk. He peers out into the darkness to size up the situation…

The mayor briefly recalls an incident at the town hall. There are intermittent memories of men and women attired in coveralls and clingy catsuits. People standing all around him with blank expressions and glassy stares …A brilliant flash…

And then nothing.

Mayor Goldstein pulls himself up off of his cot and steps out into the darkness. Reaching out and touching the walls, he can tell that the room is impossibly small; maybe eight by ten at best.

On the opposite side of one of those walls, a small group of Orion officers watch through the one-way viewing panel. A behavioral specialist has also been observing the mayor’s actions, and he eventually turns to Captain Kiyar with his professional appraisal:

“He can be broken down, just like all the others. However, a full conversion will take time and effort. The queen is growing restless; she’s pressuring her daughter to show some results as it is…”

Kiyar returns, “And if Theramea is under pressure, then we’ll all be under pressure. How long will the conversion take, doctor?”

“It might only be a couple of periods, or it could be as much as several cycles.”

“FRAK!” the alien cursed out loud, “We don’t have that kind of time!”

There’s a momentary pause, as Kiyar paces back and forth beyond the viewing panel. His head is dropped in thought, as if looking for a rational answer…

That’s when one of the other officers suggests aloud, “What if we just show him his wife and daughter?”

The behavioral specialist is quick to object, “That might be too traumatic at this point.”

“Yes, but they can be used as excellent bargaining tools,” the officer countered.

Kiyar briefly pauses in place, as if considering his options. Then at once he says, “I don’t see where we have much of a choice. Take him down to the storage area and see how he reacts. We can always do a stage II conversion like those two security guards.”

On the other side of the wall, Mayor Goldstein continues to feel his way around the room. An unseen door handle turns at his left. A door swings open just a second later, and the room is suddenly awash with light. Two unknown figures appear in the doorway and approach their captive…

An unfamiliar voice that sounds gruff, yet digitized and completely alien is heard to order, “Let’s go Mr. Goldstein; it’s your turn.”

Still blinded by the abrupt light, the mayor is dragged from his room and forcibly led down a narrow corridor. It takes him nearly a whole minute to regain his sight and recognize his captors…

Mayor Goldstein looks to his right to see a green-skinned brute that’s attired in a dark gray jumpsuit. A quick turn to the left reveals a nearly identical figure in similar attire. In his hands is a wand-like weapon of unknown origin…

The mayor panics.

“You! …You sons-a-bitches were the ones that attacked the town hall!”

“Let’s go!” orders the first beast, before roughly shoving his captive forward.

Mayor Goldstein attempts to struggle against the grip of his captors, but his efforts are futile; the alien thugs clearly outsize the man. Like an annoyed mother trying to gain control of her child, one of the troopers actually yanks the mayor completely off his feet, forcing the prisoner to walk forward in a more manageable fashion.

“You can’t treat me like this! …I’m the damned mayor! …I was elected for the people, by the people! …And I’m warning you creeps; my wife is a highly accredited lawyer! …We’ll sue your asses!”

The mayor’s tirade falls on deaf ears, of course. The Orion guards continue marching forward, forcibly escorting (and sometimes dragging) the mayor right along with them. Eventually they come to a thick set of double-hung doors at the end of a corridor. Riveted upon them is a reflective sign that says, “REFRIGERATED AREA: KEEP DOORS CLOSED.”

As one of the oafs reaches out to turn the handle, the other reveals in a rather cryptic manner, “We have some folks that would like to see you.”

The other guard teases, “Yeah, just don’t expect that they’ll actually recognize you!”

…The two share a knowing laugh at the mayor’s expense.

One of the guards pulls the stainless steel doors open, and a rush of cold air sweeps out over the area. With a misty fog rolling out around their legs, the alien steps forward and orders, “This way…”

The second trooper quickly prods the mayor, and with a terrible sense of foreboding, he reluctantly steps forward…

A reunion of sorts…

The area beyond the heavy doors opens up into a very large room. They appear to be in some sort of abandoned warehouse, or possibly an old factory. The floor of the span is entirely empty, save for the dozens upon dozens of cocoon-like enclosures that line one of the interior walls. Some of those enclosures are under lit with an unnatural greenish glow, while others are completely dark.

Mayor Goldstein scans over the room, searching for more clues…

The surroundings are unmistakably industrial, judging by the galvanized wall panels and the outdated fluorescent lighting. There’s a chain-driven track system that hangs from the ceiling by numerous supports, allowing it to run throughout the entire length of the room. Hanging intermittently from said track system, are various iron hooks; indicating that the place was a meatpacking plant in a former life. All that’s missing are the hanging carcasses and blood stains on the walls.

…The mayor shakes off an involuntary chill.

Assuming that this was an actual meatpacking plant, the area is still surprisingly clean. From the freshly laid conduit and polished steel fittings, to the recently buffed tiles that cover the floor, somebody obviously put some time and effort into the place. In fact, there are green-skinned laborers currently on the floor. The small group works with haste, as they sort through numerous shipping crates full of parts and pieces. From the looks of it, they appear to be erecting even more of the odd-looking enclosures...

As Mayor Goldstein is escorted across the factory floor, he observes that the area is noticeably chilled, and that he can see his own breath in the air. He’s aware of a distinct odor too, like a sanitary smell of cleaning ammonia or even chlorine, as opposed to the anticipated stench of raw meat.

“W-wha-what is this place?”

In an authoritative tone, the nearest guard quickly orders, “Move it!”

As the mayor is pushed along, it becomes apparent that his nightmare is only beginning. The frightened man has no idea what these brutish apes are about to do to him, and his trembling hands only confirm the fact.

The trio is coming closer to some of the plastic enclosures. Each capsule is seven feet high, by three feet around, and they gradually taper off in width towards the bottom. There are four metal struts that arch over the top of each container; each with a series of eyehooks that clasp into little metal ringlets along the sides. Each of the four struts are engineered to give the enclosure its girth, as well as to support its weight. Numerous membrane-like vessels surround each of the womb-like sacks, making them look even more eerie than they already are…

For some unexplainable reason, just the mere sight of their emptiness brings even more concern to the mayor.

“W-what are all these plastic sacks for?”

“You’ll soon find out,” assured one of the sneering guards.

…This last statement would prove to be true. Within a few more steps, the trio comes upon one of the first of the under-lit enclosures. At first glance, Goldstein isn’t quite sure of what he’s even looking at. The silhouette of whatever is held inside, is somewhat distorted by the thickness of the clear plastic, and the light coating of condensation that covers its surface. Now turning his head at different angles, the mayor can see that the form inside is decidedly human in shape—quite possibly a display mannequin.

Mayor Goldstein leans forward to get a closer look, and soon realizes that this isn’t any mannequin. The man takes in a measured breath and quietly murmurs, “Oh my god…”

Standing inside the opaque capsule is the figure of a young woman. The mayor assumes right away that she’s of Asian descent, due to her high cheekbones and almond shaped eyes. Upon her head of long black hair is a banded crown of silver. It’s attached to a harness that holds a series of cables and wires that disappear into the area of the pod above her. A set of sleek-looking caps cover the woman’s ears. She stares out from the gloomy confines of her cocoon, but with seemingly visionless eyes. The expression on her pretty face is decidedly neutral, if it can be considered an expression at all…

“W-ho is she?”

…The guard doesn’t answer the question.

“W-What are you doing to her?”

- Still no answer.

The mayor glances down through the plastic to notice the woman’s suggestive attire, which is a revealing teddy in shimmering red. The vibrant color of the garment sharply contrasts with the owner’s pale blue lips and ashen white skin. …And although seemingly dead, this poor creature somehow manages to retain her feminine beauty.

The alien guard gives his prisoner a harsh yank, jolting him from his brief reverie. The insistent beast pulls the confused man along, indicating that there’s still more to see…

The trio pass another membranous capsule; this one containing a rather plain-looking woman with ginger-colored hair that’s rolled up in plastic curlers. She’s not wearing any make-up and she’s dressed in a rather frumpy-looking bath robe. Like her neighbor beside her, the assumed housewife also sports a banded crown upon her head. Her natural facial features hold the same neutral expression.

Mayor Goldstein has even less time to study this homely-looking victim. As he’s yanked forward once again, the man questions… “What is all of this? …What’s going on in here?”

“Keep moving,” growls one of the guards.

As he’s continually pulled along, the mayor glances into each of the translucent capsules. There was a rather gaunt-looking woman in one, and judging by her unkempt hair and disheveled clothing, she might have been a homeless person. …The capsule right beside her contains a dark-skinned woman in fishnet stockings and a short leather skirt. She has heavy make-up and what appears to be a burgundy-colored wig. Her garish attire is topped off by a leopard print tank top that shows off her spilling cleavage.

…Was that a hooker?

The next cocoon almost seems to verify the fact, as another scantily clad female stares outward; this one in a lacey white catsuit. She has stringy blonde hair that grows darker at the roots, while her face is lined with age. Her overall appearance is decidedly sloppy, in comparison to her next door neighbor’s.

…Beyond the suspected prostitutes are a half dozen more females. Unlike some of those before them, most of these women have a more “chiseled” appearance. Their posture is stiff and their demeanor is stern, and from the looks of their physical condition, they’re no strangers to discipline. Those few that didn’t share an “athletically-toned physique” look even more rugged and butch than the others. Some are attired in drab-brown t-shirts and boxers, while others wear olive-green tank tops and rather dull-looking briefs. All of them have Government Issue dog tags hanging at their chests.

…Soldiers?

As Goldstein continues to stumble along, his deep sense of dread continues to build. At some point, the steel entrance doors click shut once again, and the sound of approaching footsteps can be heard from behind. An echoing voice calls out in the distance, “Ah! …So there you are!”

The guards stop the mayor short, indicating that they will wait for the newcomer...

Mayor Goldstein had been stopped in front of yet another cocoon; this one containing a young female with ghostly pale skin and a pierced nostril. Her raven hair is streaked with bright pink highlights, while her parted lips are painted black. Heavy eyeliner frames her dark glassy eyes, which stare sightlessly through the man before her. The mayor’s roving eyes briefly scan the female’s rather boyish attire, noticing the baggy cargo pants that hang low on her hips, and the ‘Ramones’ t-shirt that draped over her frame.

Goldstein begins to wonder …Was she one of those Goth kids, or maybe a skater that was constantly kicked off the steps at town hall? …Or could she just be some teenaged runaway that simply had the sad misfortune of crossing the invaders path on the wrong night?

…The mayor frowns at the last thought. …She’s only a couple of years older than my Hanna, for god sakes.

…Oh my god; Hanna!

Caught up in the inexplicable horror that surrounds him, Mayor Goldstein had momentarily forgotten about his recently abducted loved ones. With a newfound level of concern, the anxious man immediately blurts out, “My wife and daughter; …I must see them at once!”

Again the mayor struggles against the hold of his captors. The alien guards still manage to keep him in place, even as they bow forward to their approaching captain.

Kiyar gives the guards a respectful nod in return, before greeting their latest prisoner…

“Ah; …Mr. Mayor!” the captain greeted, “I see that you’ve been shown some of the hard-earned fruits of our labors.”

“These women; who are they? …What is being done to them?”

“I was fairly certain that you’d ask that question,” replied the captain with a crooked grin. He goes on to reveal, “All of these women have been harvested in and around Shawnee County.”

The mayor briefly glances back to the nearby skateboarder, who continues to stare out numbly from her cocoon. Her exposed skin looks ghostly and waxen, and she hadn’t so much as blinked the entire time they’d been standing there. He couldn’t help but consider …Is she just barely conscious, or (God forbid)—even alive at all?

…With a note of hesitation in his voice, they mayor musters up the courage to ask, “…Are they dead?”

Kiyar nearly snorts at the foolish question. With a condescending tone in his voice, the alien leader informs, “No my friend; they are, in fact un-dead. …Their metabolism has been slowed to a near standstill. Their minds are being assimilated with the collective as we speak.”

With an even more baffled expression than before, Goldstein questions, “Just what in the hell are you talking about?”

Kiyar approaches the very same cocoon that the mayor had been staring at. The alien leader stands there in silence for a moment, simply studying the suspended female within. The captain cracks an evil smile, as if reveling in his own ingenious handiwork and finally reveals, “It is their pre-chosen destiny. …In time, all will serve the queen.”

“Serve the queen?” questioned the mayor.

“But of course,” answered the alien, “Queen Admira; supreme ruler of the Orion Nation.”

The mayor furrows his eyebrows at the ridiculous comment. He finds himself shaking his head and wondering …What the fuck is going on here?

The captain finally advises, “There’s something else I’d like to show you.”

…Hesitant to proceed at first, Mayor Goldstein braces his legs and stands firm on his feet.

“Please,” Kiyar encouraged, “This way...”

One of the guards jabs his weapon into the mayor’s back, easily convincing him to move forward…

The Orion’s proceed forward along the row of cocoons, forcing their captive along with them. Inside each of those passing enclosures are the shadowy forms of even more human females. Some of them are still dressed in normal everyday attire, while others are clothed in nothing more than their sleepwear. All stand silent within their cells.

The mayor becomes more and more anxious with every passing cocoon. It isn’t long before he nervously asks, “W-What is it that you wanted to show me?”

“And spoil the surprise?” Kiyar decried. “Come; they’ve waited long enough.”

…The two guards glance over the head of their captive and give each other another knowing smirk.

Kiyar finally comes to a stop in front of another cocoon and announces, “I believe this should be the one.”

…The captain takes a moment to rub away the slight build-up of moisture that has collected on the front surface of the sack. He then proclaims, “Ah yes, there we are!” …The leader takes a step back and waves a hand, indicating that the mayor should have a look for himself...

With the guards still at his sides, Mayor Goldstein nervously steps up to the flexible structure. The shadowy form inside is indiscernible at first, so he leans forward against their restraint. …With his head placed so close to the plastic, the mayor’s breath actually fogs up a small spot in the middle of the enclosure. One of the guards nudges him in the back, and that’s when a familiar face comes into view.

…A sudden chill runs up the mayor’s spine. The horrified man gasps at the appalling discovery and reels back on his feet.

“NO!”

Held within her own protective cocoon, is none other than Mrs. Goldstein. She merely stands inside, with her hands on her thighs and with her fingers splayed out over her business skirt. She appears to be in a comatose state, just like the others…

“My god!” the mayor reacted, “What on earth have you done to my wife?”

“Grace is currently at rest,” Kiyar revealed. “But with our deep neuro-conditioning, she will gain strength; both in body and in mind. She will emerge one day as a new woman.”

…The ambiguous answer only raises more questions…

“Neuro—what? …Why you sons-a-bitches!”

Now frantic, the defiant man twists and turns against his captors’ grip with desperate hopes of breaking free. The cruel guards simply laugh at his useless efforts…

The alien leader remains indifferent to Mayor Goldstein’s aggressive behavior, and casually slips his hands into the hip pockets on his uniform. He goes on to lecture, “There’s no need for insubordination, Mr. Mayor. All we’re asking for is your full cooperation. If you cooperate, there’s a chance that your lovely wife might be freed…”

“Cooperate with you? —NOT EVER! …Now let me go, you—you… fucking bastards!”

Goldstein’s heart is pounding so hard now, that his pulse is ringing in his ears. At once the mayor’s breathing becomes labored. He suddenly feels nauseous and dizzy, and for an intense moment—it appears that he might even topple over. The two guards react quickly and steady the man back on his feet…

Mayor Goldstein attempts to catch his breath, as a myriad of unanswered questions dart about his head. He soon begins to question, “Why was she abducted? …Taken away and stored like this with all of the others?”

Kiyar responds, “Our leader wants them living. As I mentioned before; they will all serve our great queen.”

“Serve her how?”

The captain explains, “Some will be calibrated to work in the mines to harvest Dilithium crystals, which are our planet’s greatest natural resource.”

Goldstein turns and asks, “Dilith- what?”

“Dilithium crystals,” repeated the captain. “They are sold as fuel to other species across the galaxy; the crystals can power their ships. …It’s our planet’s second biggest source of revenue.”

Mayor Goldstein is looking back at his wife. The look of absolute emptiness in Gracie’s green eyes unnerves him. Considering the current circumstances, he’d almost expect to see a sense of fear showing in her expression. Yet; the woman somehow looks oddly at peace.

The mayor looks away from his wife’s vacuous gaze, as he can no longer cope with the unblinking stare of her eyes …Glancing downward, he can see that Gracie is still attired in a charcoal-gray business suit and skirt, her favorite angora sweater, and a pair of smart black business pumps. Still hanging above her ample chest, is the genuine pearl necklace that he had given her this last Christmas. These are all items the mayor had watched her put on just yesterday morning, as she got herself ready for work. And now here she is just a day later; carelessly stored away, as if she’s nothing more than some side of beef with so many others.

After a pensive moment, the mayor finds the courage to ask, “You said only some of them would work in these so-called mines…”

Kiyar tries to explain, “Dilithium mining is just one of the Royals’ businesses…”

Goldstein cuts in, “…And the other?”

The captain clears his throat and then pauses, as if carefully choosing his next few words. But in the end, even the alien knows that there’s no easy way around it...

“In addition to the mining business, there’s another rather unique commodity that the Royals specialize in. Regardless of whether they’re Na’vi; Nebari; Vulcan; or even Twi’lek; impregnable females will always be in high demand across the galaxy. Human females wouldn’t be any different, and in fact: bring a higher premium.”

Mayor Goldstein fires, “Wait —what?”

The captain raises a hand for silence. The guards enforce this request by increasing their grip and jabbing their weapons into the mayor’s back…

Kiyar goes on to reveal, “We’ve been studying the human female form for many generations now. In 1587, the raid on the lost colony at Roanoke Island was the very first of its kind. …Our great leader Enruka thought up the very idea of carving “CROATOAN” into that infamous tree, therefore passing the blame of the missing settlers onto the nearby native Indians—whom we also eventually abducted in great numbers. …Over three human centuries later, we were quite surprised to see that mankind had managed to discover flight. We soon returned to retrieve a young lady by the name of Amelia Earhart for further studies. …As human technology rapidly advanced a few decades later, we began to focus on the area that would soon become known as the Bermuda Triangle.”

“That was you?”

“Indeed,” divulged the proud alien leader. “Then in more recent years, we set up operations in the desert outside of Ciudad Juarez, which is just over the Mexican border.”

The mayor interjects, “I thought Juarez had to do with Mexican gangs and prostitution?”

“So they’d have you believe, Mr. Mayor. But luckily for us, popular human culture and modern media has attributed such disappearances to paranormal activity, extraterrestrials, and as you mentioned—even gang involvement. It is only because of mankind’s gullible nature, and his reluctance to investigate such “foolish” incidents, that we’ve managed to carry on with our research without ever being detected!”

The mayor swallows hard in his throat before theorizing, “Abducting numbers of earth women? …My god! …This could turn out to be the biggest travesty since the holocaust!”

“You may think of it as a travesty, but we think of it as good business. As I’ve said; human females have been in particularly high demand ever since our very first harvest at Roanoke. Surely it would only be a matter of time before we returned for more.”

“But what does any of this have to do with me?” the mayor asked, before pointing to his wife and further questioning, “…Or my wife, for that matter?”

“That’s quite simple, Mr. Mayor; we need your help at—hmm, how shall I put this? Oh yes; …getting our message out to the masses.”

“Absolutely not!” rejected the mayor. “I refuse to be a pawn to you slimy snakes!”

The alien argues, “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“FUCK YOU! —TO HELL WITH YOU ALL!”

Kiyar furrows one of his bushy eyebrows in disappointment. “I shall remind you, Mr. Mayor; the very fate of your loved ones depends solely on your full cooperation.”

One of the guards gives the mayor a swift jerk, just to stress the point. The goon smiles at his captive, giving the human a good close view of his moldy green teeth…

From just behind, the alien leader asks, “Perhaps you’d like to see your little pumpkin?”

…The captive immediately stiffens at the mention of his daughter’s nickname. Kiyar starts to crack his evil smile, as he knows he’s struck a nerve. He had deliberately chosen the girl’s nickname for maximum impact.

Mayor Goldstein slowly turns, his eyes darkening with even more hatred than before.

“So help me god; if I find out that any of you so much as laid a hand on her—”

Kiyar quickly interjects, “As I mentioned before; your daughter is in the greatest of care.”

…With that said, the alien nods his head towards an adjacent cocoon and suggests, “Why don’t you just see for yourself…”

Mayor Goldstein glances at the plastic shell and the hazy figure within. Despite the distorted view, it’s quite easy to see that the dark shadow inside is nearly a foot shorter than the others. …Goldstein’s angry expression slowly morphs into one of uncertainty. With mounting dread, the man silently questions …Could this unearthly creature be suggesting that … No, it couldn’t be…

…The mayor steps closer and peers into the misty confines of the cocoon. He finds himself looking down at the docile visage of a young female; her features are delicate and soft. She has burnished gold locks that are tied into twin pigtails, while her light green eyes stare doll-like from beneath overgrown bangs. She stands in pajamas; her fluorescent pink pants reaching down to mid-calf, with her favorite plush slippers still on her feet. Her posture is noticeably slack; a telling sign of the state of mind that she’s sunken into… The silent form certainly resembles his daughter, but this just couldn’t be!

Kiyar offers a chilling compliment, “Hanna is quite lovely, isn’t she?”

…The mayor’s heart sinks and he nearly drops with the horrible confirmation.

“Hanna’s malleable little mind is in an “altered state” right now,” revealed the alien. “But I can promise that someday soon, she will know the privilege of marching in stride amongst her fellow sisters…”

The mayor continues to study his daughter, tears now welling up in his still unbelieving eyes. The mere sight of his Hanna —now somehow ensnared in this catatonic state— is enough to push him over the edge. Goldstein suddenly breaks down, buckling in two and dropping to his knees. Now weeping loudly, the man cries out, “But why? —Oh dear God, why?”

“Get a hold of yourself, fool!” Kiyar blasted. “You’ve been given the opportunity to save them, now use it!”

The guards begin to drag the man across the factory floor, slowly drawing the trembling human up to the tips of his shoes. But then he stumbles forward and falls face-first into the next cocoon. The plastic enclosure wobbles about on its framework, along with the victim inside…

The mayor glances up just in time to see his missing babysitter —April Summers— wavering about and staring back at him from inside.

“Oh nooo!” the mayor wailed, “…Not you too!”

Growing impatient with all the sobbing, Kiyar goes on to order, “Take him back to his cell so he can digest what he’s just seen!”

The goons nod their heads and violently yank the man up beneath his armpits. They drag him off kicking and screaming in the opposite direction.

Kiyar reaches out to grasp two of the lanyards and carefully steadies the swaying cocoon. Once it comes to a complete stop, he gently releases the enclosure. The captain casually looks inside at the cute brunette who stares trough him in a trance-like state.

As the captain turns to walk back to his quarters, his earpieces beep, indicating there’s pertinent information coming in. The voice of one of the processing technicians soon resonates within his ears…

“Captain, I’m afraid I have some bad news.”

“What is it?”

“We were draining the memory banks of this latest batch of captives. There was this police woman that was captured at the scene. After deep conditioning, she revealed that she’d spoken to the sheriff on her radio, while standing in the middle of some sort of diner. There were some witnesses involved…”

Kiyar’s expression quickly morphs into one of concern. “Cripes, this is all I need! …Did she say how many?”

“She described a young waitress and the restaurant owners in vivid detail, Sir. There were also some local regulars seated at the counter.”

Kiyar’s eyes dart back and forth in panic. He has some damage control to take care of —and fast!

“Listen up; get an address and the names of those involved. I’ll send two of my human converts over at to tie-up any loose ends. We can’t afford to risk even the slightest possibility of exposure!”

“Aye, captain; I’ll get on that at once!”

After-hours visit…

It’s just past 10 pm, and it’s been a very long day for the staff at Rhonda’s. Friday evenings are the only night throughout the week that the diner remains open past 3 pm. And although they mostly cater to the breakfast crowd, its Rhonda’s homemade coleslaw and Mel’s legendary beer battered fish that bring in the locals from miles around. In the little ole town of Rossville, the “Friday night fish fry” is nearly as important a social event, as going to church on Sunday morning.

Even Rhonda’s niece Cassandra ended up working a double. The nineteen-year-old found her Friday night plans thwarted, when her second shift relief called in sick for work. Now exhausted and sweaty, the young woman wants nothing more than to go home and take a long hot bath…

“Ok guys; I guess I’ll see ya’ll on Monday mornin’.”

…The sore young woman politely smiles at yet another “thank you honey!” from her appreciative aunt, before pulling the jingling door closed behind her.

Cassie cautiously scans the gravel parking lot as she walks towards her car. …Parking lot’s empty, girl …aint nobody out here but you!

As Cassie digs through her purse for her keys, she thinks about the weekend ahead. She has the next two days off and is planning to enjoy it. Maybe she’d lie out on the deck in the hot little bikini she’d just bought. Or maybe she’d go to the mall tomorrow night with her girlfriends. They might meet up with some cute guys and all go to the movies together. The possibilities are endless…

As the waitress reaches for the lock on her door, she thinks she hears a rustling sound in the overgrowth nearby. The startled woman looks up with alarm.

“Is somebody there?”

Cassandra’s eyes scan the darkness near the brush, but she sees nothing. After a pensive moment, the young woman focuses back on the door lock.

…Must’ve been the wind.

Cassie finally manages to open her car door and gets inside. The waitress tosses her purse on the passenger seat, before inserting the ignition key. After several cranks, the outdated Nissan Sentra finally sputters to life and she reaches down to shift the car into reverse. The car moans its way out of the parking spot, and just as Cassie turns her head, she sees someone approaching out of the corner of her eye.

“What in the heck?”

…Her rear side window suddenly shatters and something bounces off the door panel on the passenger side.

KA-CHOOF!

—A brilliant explosion of light suddenly fills the car’s interior!

Cassandra’s instant reaction is to scream, but there’s a sudden feeling of paralysis that’s overtaken her body. The young woman’s mind begins to swirl, and her senses suddenly turn to mush. As her white-washed vision fades into total darkness, her car rolls into a row of bushes and stalls. Her driver door is pulled open and a shadowy figure turns her head and flashes something in her eyes…

“This one looks completely fried,” said a seemingly distant voice. “Let’s get her loaded up so we can take care of the others.”

Unexpected guests…

Inside Rhonda’s diner, the owner and her husband are closing up. It’s been an awfully long day for the couple, and they’re both looking forward to calling it a night. Rhonda has already closed out the register, and is recounting the bills in her office in the back, while Mel is out front cleaning up the serving area. He’s in the process of dipping his mop into a soap-filled slop bucket, when the front door swings open behind him. The familiar jingle of the overhead bells indicates an unexpected customer. The startled cook turns around to see two strange men with wrap around shades and wearing ‘Trademark’ security uniforms…

“Sorry fellas, but we’re closed for the night.”

One of the men inquires in a rather unusual sounding voice, “Is there a Rhonda Simpleton in here?”

Mel furrows an eyebrow in curiosity, but continues with his mopping. “Yeah, sure …Why do you ask?”

…The cook fails to notice the second man withdrawing a weapon from behind his back.

CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE!

Back in the office, Rhonda notices several brilliant flashes in her peripheral vision. She looks up from the fanned out bills within her hands and thinks …What in the hell was that?

“…Mel? …Is everything ok out there?”

Her husband doesn’t answer.

“Was that another bulb that just burst?”

-Still no response.

The quick thinking owner swipes the remaining bills off of her desk and forces everything into a leather bank pouch. She slides the bottom door of her desk open and deposit’s the pouch inside. That drawer slams closed and the one above it is immediately yanked open. A loaded .38 pistol is withdrawn from inside...

Rhonda questions once again, “Honey, are you alright?”

…The worried owner gets up from her desk and cocks the trigger on her weapon. With her back pressed to the wall and her pistol raised just above her shoulder, Rhonda quietly sneaks through the kitchen area. When she reaches the dining area, she’s quite surprised to find her husband standing above his slop bucket, with his mop still gripped within his hands…

Rhonda expels a sigh of relief and lowers her weapon. “Jesus H. Christ, Mel! …I thought we were getting robbed!”

The woman barely manages to get out the statement, when a second series of bursts illuminate the room!

CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE—CHOOVE!

This sudden explosion of radiant light not only manages to brighten the entire dining area, but soon blinds the business owner as well. Within just seconds, the constant stream of light-energy suspends Rhonda in place!

The two attackers slowly approach their suspended target. It isn’t until one of them waves a hand through the woman’s locked line of vision, that the other lowers his weapon…

“She’s done,” confirms one of the security guards.

“Good,” replied the other. “Let’s get these two loaded up in the van and so we can get them over to the plant for conditioning. We need to have them back here so they can open-up in the morning.”

The other guard asks, “And the cute one?”

“I believe they’ll have other plans for her. Now let’s get them loaded up…”

The pair work quickly together, and have Mel and Rhonda loaded up in their van within minutes. With the lights turned off and the business now closed, no one passing by would be suspicious of any wrong doing. And in the morning, when Rhonda and Mel would eventually be returned, they would reopen their business with a brand-new mindset…