The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

I’d always heard that one of the qualities of an insane person is that they never question their own sanity. It’s kind of a paradox in a way... that only a sane person would question whether or not they actually ARE sane. That if you can actually consider the fact that you might be crazy means that you are, in fact, NOT crazy.

Gaaah... just trying to figure out the logic of that is almost enough to make a person nuts!

Nevertheless, standing in front of my bathroom mirror at four in the morning, staring at the pale, wide-eyed waif of a girl staring back at me, I seriously had to wonder what the FUCK was wrong with me. For the fifth time this week, I’d woken up from a sound sleep screaming, panicked, and sweat-soaked, utterly terrified of a nightmare that I couldn’t remember. Even more disturbing than the sense of fear was the unmistakable arousal that always accompanied it.

I mean, seriously. How fucked up is that? Something scary enough to wake me up screaming, yet leaves me so turned on I practically soak my sheets?

Splashing some cold water on my face, and my overheated body, helped a little, and I returned to my bedroom, staring in disgust at my wet stained bed. Ugh... gonna have to do laundry again tomorrow, I thought to myself as I stripped the bed down to the mattress, lying flat on it and covering myself with the comforter. That tears it. Whatever this is, it’s bigger than I can handle myself. I’m calling Doctor Snow first thing in the morning. With that plan firmly in mind, I settled back and closed my eyes, letting myself drift back to sleep.

All in all, I guess it’s not too surprising to kinda ‘lose it’ now and again, given my chosen career choice. Costume wearing Supers in River City tended to lead dangerous lives. And while I hadn’t been a heroine all that long, just a few short months, I’d certainly had more than my fair share of scrapes. Yet even the worst encounters hadn’t really given me any problem sleeping until now. The first time I’d gone head to head against Voltaire, an electricity-powered villainess, I’d literally peed myself. I’d come within an inch of being barbecued by her lightning. But somehow, some way, I’d managed to beat her. And that night I’d slept like a baby.

Stepping off the bus outside the doctor’s practice, I let out a deep sigh. I wasn’t looking forward to this. Dr. Snow was a nice enough lady... for a shrink, I suppose. But she kind of weirded me out. I’d never really been comfortable with the idea of psychics anyway, people that could read my mind, and learn my deepest darkest secrets, or simply swoop in and take control of me at their whim. The fact that she herself was a retired heroine as well, working with the police and other heroes in the city, made it tolerable. Barely. Add in the fact that the woman was smoking hot, a tall leggy platinum blonde babe in her sixties yet looked like she was barely in her thirties, and every office visit was extremely uncomfortable. And she always wore that same knowing little smirk on her face, as if she KNEW what I was thinking, and it amused her to no end.

Hell, maybe my problem was that I just really needed to get laid.

“Thank you for waiting,” her secretary, Tiffany, said, breaking me out of my inner monologue. “Dr. Snow said you can go right back in.”

“Huh? But I didn’t hear her buzz on the inter... com...” I began, before mentally slapping my head. “Oh. Right,” I murmured, as Tiffany merely nodded, grinning. Duh. Of course, she wouldn’t have to actually call in to talk to her. Wonder what it’s like working with a boss who’s psychic? Probably sucks... someone knowing instantly if you’re actually working or just goofing off... Walking back into the familiar office, I found Dr. Snow, dressed in her usual all-white ensemble, seated at her desk, waiting for me.

“Welcome, Hannah,” she said gently, gesturing to the chair across from her. “Your call earlier said that you were having trouble sleeping.”

I nodded, blushing slightly, forcing my eyes to look her in the face and ignore the very tempting expanse of her lovely breasts, barely contained in that white lace crop top. “Y-yeah,” I managed, my throat suddenly dry. “Five nights this week. And three last week.” I paused as she pushed a small glass of ice water across the desk towards me. “Um... thank you,” I said, taking a drink to wet my whistle. “So, ah... like I was saying... it’s like I go to sleep, and I drift off, nice and peaceful... and then the next minute I’m sitting up in bed screaming bloody murder with my heart racing like I’ve been running a marathon! And I can never remember what it is that wakes me up! If it’s some kind of nightmare, you’d think I would at least have SOME idea of what it was about.” I paused, considering whether or not to mention the strange unwanted arousal as well.

“Hmmm, that is interesting,” Eva said, frowning slightly. “So tell me about your routine. What did you do yesterday?”

I merely shrugged. “Um, nothing much, really. The same old, same old. Spent the early part of the morning at my day job, giving spa treatments to the pets of the rich and famous,” I added, rolling my eyes. It was a kind of dumb job, but it did pay the bills. “Then I hung out a while with Amanda for a while, had lunch. Paid some bills. Watched a movie on Netflix. Then that evening, I started my ‘night job’.”

“Yes, yes, dear,” Eva replied with a sigh. “This is a secure office. No need to bother with buzzwords or euphemisms. You can simply say you put on your costume and went out as Pinnacle.” She steepled her fingers on the desk. “And really, that is the part I am most interested about. What happened on your patrol last night? Anything unusual, or out of the ordinary?”

I actually chuckled at that. “Unusual? In this city? You’ll have to narrow the field a bit more.”

Eva sighed. “Okay. Let’s make it simple then. Tell me about the night you had your first nightmare... what? Two weeks ago?”

“Three weeks, actually,” I said, leaning back in my chair. “It started on a Friday night, then hit again on the Sunday of the following week.” I shook my head. “Come to think of it, the whole thing WAS a bit unusual...”

It all started with a simple bank robbery.

And retelling this now, I can’t help but acknowledge how strange and bizarre my life as a Super is that I can talk about a bank being robbed as simple or mundane. Huh? Yes, yes, I know. You have the same experience. I’d imagine most of us do, but I’m new enough at this that I can still see it from the other perspective. Anyway...

I was doing my usual patrol, just passing by the First National Bank when I heard the sounds of metal scraping. I paused for a sec, listening, letting my enhanced hearing do its thing, and sure enough, I heard it again. Metal scraping on metal, wood, and stone, as well as someone grunting with the exertion. Dropping down to the alleyway below, I found a guy in a black turtleneck and cap trying to pry open the back entrance with a crowbar. Sighing softly, taking a moment to figure out my approach, I walked up to the guy.

“So. hey,” I said casually, leaning up against the wall, “You DO know there is a perfectly good deposit drop box in the front of the bank, right?”

Yeah, I do realize now that it was kind of a cheesy way to approach a robbery in progress. No, I do NOT think your nephew has been a bad influence on me. Just shut up and let me tell the story, okay?

The guy whirled around, wide-eyed in surprise. “Wha... wh.. who are you?” he stammered, clutching the crowbar like a bat. “You’re... you’re one of those stinkin’ Supers, aren’t ya?” he managed, his fear turning to distaste. “Well... you ain’t stoppin’ me!” he grunted, taking a swing at my head. I dodged it beautifully, spinning as I moved, crouching down and moving inside his guard, locking my arms around his elbow to prevent him from taking a second swing.

“Sorry, buddy, but it looks like this financial transaction has been canceled,” I quipped before punching him square in the jaw, sending him to dreamland. Sigh Okay... so yeah, that one I DO blame on Parker Albinn. But he does make a good point. Stuff like that is fun to say in the heat of the moment.

A few minutes later, the guy comes to, finding himself laid out with his hands cuffed behind his back. “Wha... hey! HEY!” he yells, struggling briefly as I turn back to glance at him. “What’s going on here? What’s this all about?” he asked.

I couldn’t help but give the guy an incredulous look at that one. “Really? You try and break into the First National Bank, you take a swing at me with a crowbar, and you wonder why you’re all tied up?”

“B-bank? Bank robbery? No. NO!” the guy said, starting to freak out. Seriously, he began struggling so violently that I was worried he might break something. “This is a mistake! Please! I’m not a criminal! You have to let me go!”

I scoffed at that. “Huh. Not MUCH of a criminal, that’s for sure,” I commented, “but letting you go? Uh-uh. I caught you red handed. And did I mention, you tried to take my head off with a crowbar? You can’t just sit there and try to pretend that this didn’t happen!”

“But... but I’m not!” the guys said, red-faced. I swear, at this point, he was even crying! “I honestly don’t know what happened! Yes, I... I know I did this... that I tried to pry open the door so I could get to the money... but I have no idea why!” He sniffled. “Miss, please! I’m not a bad guy! I’m a podiatrist, a foot doctor! I have my own practice. And... I have a wife and two kids! Two of them!” He shook his head. “I’m telling you, I wouldn’t do this!”

I admit it... at this point, I was starting to doubt what was happening here myself. “So... what? You’re saying that you were hypnotized? Brainwashed into robbing this place?” I asked, dubiously.

“Hypnotized...” he said, slowly, as if considering. “I don... no. It couldn’t... I mean... I dunno... Maybe? Yes. YES! That must be it,” he said, latching onto that tired old excuse as if it were a life raft. “I must have been hypnotized. Someone MADE me do this!” he said now, with conviction.

I know what you’re thinking. Of course, he’d say that. It had actually become a new trend among criminals lately, starting as a bad joke following the whole ‘Luminaire’ incident a few months back. Some guy gets caught stealing a car, and he tosses out the flimsy excuse, ‘I didn’t mean to do it. Someone musta hypnotized me and made me do this. You know, like that Luminaire chick in the news!’ The guy of course was arrested and booked, but his comment seemed to have sparked an interest. Suddenly, every criminal and their momma was singing that same old tune, that they weren’t REALLY to blame, that some unknown person had brainwashed them to make them commit the crime.

Yeah, I imagine you would know all about that, huh? I would guess as a registered psychic and an attache to the police force, you would likely be called in to debunk most of those claims about criminals being mind controlled. By the way, how many of them turn out to be legit... huh? Really? Three percent?!? Wow... that must really suck, huh? Oh, yeah, sorry. Back to the story...

My point was, I was skeptical at the very least that this guy had actually be hypnotized into doing this. But, well... the way he was sitting there, sobbing, looking so pitiful... the oh so ‘well thought out plan’ of breaking into a bank with a crowbar... it all seemed strange to me. Out of place. I mean, if the guy was playing at being a total screwup of a bank robber, he could have gotten an Oscar. Besides... something about the way he spoke touched something inside me. It reminded me of the way I’d been ‘Danganrompa’ed—

Huh? Oh, well... kinda tough to explain. It’s this weird-ass Japanese anime based on a Japanese novel style video game about a psycho that is trying to destroy the world and make a bunch of people trapped in a building kill each other. Yeah, I did say it was weird. My reference, though, was specifically about the third one, and the reference about the HOW it all went down. Yep, you guessed it—brainwashing. Psycho Girl abducts this genius computer animator guy to create this video full of subliminals that completely drive anyone who watches it insane, turning them into crazed murderous psychotics just like her. But the kicker is, the person acts normal most of the time, able to fool even their closest friends and family, until its time to strike. There was this one scene where the kids’ teacher was strapped in a chair and screaming, fighting it, resisting it as best she could, all the while the psycho’s sister is literally probing her brain with a pair of long ass steel needles, pushing her to her breaking point. And then she finally snaps... and sits up, tears running down her cheeks as she smiles and laughs insanely, her new purpose in life etched forever in her mind...

Sorry. Got a little caught up there. Freaking weird movie, but great scene.

Anyway... I knew exactly what that felt like. I’d gone through exactly that when Professor Twyst caught me and brainwashed me into becoming a supervillain all those months ago. The only difference was that MY demise happened slowly over a period of weeks instead of minutes. When I finally reached my breaking point, when I finally ‘snapped’, I’d had the exact same expression. I knew then that I had changed... that everything had changed. That everything that I had been before was meaningless, and that the person I was now, the low down, despicable, slut that got off on hurting and exploiting others... that was now the real me. And I’d embraced it. It wasn’t until afterward, until you, Dr. Snow, that I was able to return to the way I used to be. And yes, I’m more grateful than words can properly convey.

But... yeah. I remembered my fall, my descent. I remembered the feeling of being out of control... utterly helpless and dancing to someone else’s tune. And staring at that would-be robber, I felt for a moment like I was staring at myself, a victim of something I hadn’t asked for, that I barely even understood. And so... I uncuffed him. I told him to go get help, to make an appointment to visit a psychologist and get his brain straightened out, and sent him on his way. Completely against protocol, I know. And I’d probably let an actual criminal escape, taken in by a really bad sob story. But it had felt like the right thing to do, yanno?

“I see,” Eva replied primly, nodding. “And that’s the first night you started having nightmares?”

“Um, well, yes and no,” I admitted, frowning. “Later that night in bed, I did have a nightmare. But unlike the ones I’ve been having lately, I remembered this one. And yeah... it was about my time being enslaved by Professor Twyst. It has been a few months now since I’d even thought about that time... but running into that guy had just brought it all back again.” I shook my head. “It was... unsettling, I guess? But not that bad. I didn’t wake up screaming or anything. And the next day, I was able to put it behind me. It didn’t make me want to skip patrolling the city or anything. Although,” I said ruefully, “all things considered, I kind of wish that I had skipped a night.”

“Ooohh... the story continues, I see,” Dr. Snow replied with a smirk. “So what happened on the next night?”

I sighed softly. “You know, you’re psychic, right? You could just look inside my head and SEE what happened instead of asking me to describe it all to you.”

Eva shook her finger at me, reminding me very much of my old third-grade teacher. “Now, now, Hannah, that’s not how this works,” she chided me. “You know by now that the point of this is for you to realize the reason for your nightmares for yourself. Me telling you the answer as soon as you walk through the door is meaningless. This is all to get YOU to find and understand the answer yourself.” Her grin turned wicked. “Besides, you’re a positively riveting storyteller. I really want to hear what happens next in your own words.”

Groaning inwardly, I nodded, then sat back again, thinking about the events of that night...

It was late, and I was just finishing my patrol across the park area, heading back home, when I decided to check the financial district again just in case. I had just crossed onto the roof of the First National Bank building when, again, I heard strange sounds coming from the alleyway of the back entrance. I paused, frowning, and a few seconds later I got my confirmation. This time, there were three of them trying to break into the door. Shaking my head ruefully, I dropped lightly down behind them.

“...hurry up and open it already!” the first guy, a large bulky man in a black sweater and face mask, grunted. “What’s the deal? This is taking forever!”

“Hey, I’m doing the best that I can,” the second man, a tall thin, lanky guy complained. Like his partner, he too wore what seemed to be the standard robbery gear of a black sweater and face mask. “I told you guys, I’m a tech guy. I was just supposed to bypass the security system. It’s not my fault they put a freakin’ padlock on the dang door after some guy tried to break in yesterday!” He grunted a few more times before throwing up his hands. “Here, you do it,” he said, holding out the crowbar to the squat bulky man, “you’re the muscle here, anyway.”

“Because it’s not my job,” shorty grunted. “Lenny, you help Georgie get the door open. You’re just standing around doing nothing anyway.”

“Hey, it’s not MY job either,” Lenny, the third guy, another thin and lanky man, not quite as tall as the second guy, grumbled. “I’m the lookout, remember? My job is to let you guys know if someone is coming—”

“Yeah, and good job with that, by the way,” I said aloud, causing all them of them to whirl around and gape at me. “You know what’s currently trending? #YouHadOneJob.”

You know. Hashtags? Twitter? groan C’mon Doc, get with the program. Even the President uses Twitter these days... though frankly, we’d probably all be better off if he did that a lot less. Anyway...

The short lanky one pulled out a gun and shot me.

What? Well, DUH, I’m okay. Obviously, I’m here talking with you now... eh? Oh, yeah, sorry, I get ya. Yes, even with my snazzy new bulletproof costume, it did hurt like a son of a bitch. Had a big purple bruise on my chest the size of a softball for the better part of a week. But all in all, I was okay. No major damage or anything.

So... he shoots me, and I fall, knocked off my feet by the impact. And the second guy, the nerd, freaks out. “Joey?!? What the hell? You shot someone? Are you crazy?!? Look at her costume—she’s a Super! You shot and killed one of the city’s protectors!”

“What the FUCK was I supposed to do? Stand there and let her capture us? Turn us all in to the police? Yeah, I shot her... because you are too damned stupid to open a fucking door!”

“It’s not my fault! There’s a dadgum padlock on the door frame” he pointed out. “And anyway, Lenny was on lookout! How did she sneak up on us like that? Why didn’t YOU spot her?”

“Because you two are making so much noise going at it that you distracted me!” the third one yelled back.

By then I was of course back on my feet again. Not that they noticed in the slightest. I have to admit, taking on groups of bad guys is a lot easier when they’re as organized and coordinated as these guys were. Hell, I’m pretty sure the Three Stooges would have done a better job pulling off this heist. I cleared my voice again, causing them to glance up, and all three looked shocked as if they’d actually forgotten I was there. The husky guy pulled his gun again, but this time I was prepared. Rushing forward, I disarmed him, then slammed him to the pavement. Lenny the lookout decided to try his luck as well, lunging at me from behind, but I merely stepped into him, grabbed his arm, and twisted, executing a textbook hip toss. Then I turned to glare at the self-proclaimed ‘tech guy’.

“So, you plan on trying YOUR luck, buddy?” I said, giving him a ‘come here’ gesture. To my surprise, stick legs actually did, charging at me with his crowbar held clumsily, yelling as he ran, more in tune with a suicide charge than an actual attack. Which, in retrospect, it probably was, as I laid him out with a single stiff open-palmed strike to the chin as he got close.

When they came to, it was more of the same. A lot of cursing, yelling, name calling—them—and a lot more eye-rolling and ignoring—me. This time I did call the police, however, and they were hauled away to the station. “Ya damned maniac,” the tall thin lookout guy growled, glaring at me as he was marched by in handcuffs. “This is all a setup, I tell ya! Think you can pin this on me? I ain’t going down like this! No way, bitch! No way!”

“Someone get my lawyer on the phone!” the squat one, Joey, yelled, struggling against the officers hauling him away. “I’m serious! I’ll sue... I’ll sue the whole lot of you! You can’t do this to me!”

“You’re going to sue me?” I yelled back as they shoved him into the back of a police cruiser. “You SHOT me in the chest, remember? If anything I should sue you!” I shook my head as they slammed the door on him, cutting off his reply. Seriously! There’s beating a dead horse, and then there’s sneaking into the graveyard and wailing on the grave site. I sighed inwardly when the third one, the nerdy tech guy, walked by. At least he wasn’t screaming and foaming at the mouth like the others. “So? You’re not going to scream out your innocence like your friends?” I asked him candidly. To my surprise, he shook his head no.

“What would be the point?” he replied simply. “I know all about the way that bad joke has spread. No one takes it seriously anymore. No one believes it either.” He managed an awkward shrug, despite his hands locked behind his back. “Anyway, Miss... um, Pinnacle is it?” I nodded, smiling slightly... at least he’d heard of me. “Pinnacle, I just wanted to say I’m sorry for h... er, well trying to hit you, I guess. I didn’t actually land a blow,” he said sheepishly. “Still, my mom raised me not to hit a woman under any circumstances. I’m very glad you’re okay.” With that, he let the officer lead him to the squad car to join his pals...

Eva frowned slightly. “That was... unexpected,” she said slowly.

“I know, right?” I agreed. “I mean, its kind of an off the wall thing to say just out of the blue. I can see if he was trying to make a point, or convince a jury or something that he HAD been hypnotized and acted against his will... but to just blurt out an apology like that in passing? And it was a real heartfelt one, not just a token ‘sorry’ or anything. Who does that? And why? It doesn’t make any sense...”

“Unless he was actually telling the truth,” Eva finished, “and he WAS brainwashed into trying to rob that bank.” She paused, considering. “We can talk about that later, of course. Tell me, did you have a nightmare that night as well?”

I shook my head. “No. That was Saturday. I was a bit concerned, and actually thinking a lot about what that guy had said. I was actually kind of surprised I didn’t have bad dreams that night. But no, it wasn’t until Sunday that shit really hit the fan.”

Dr. Snow raised an eyebrow. “Wait. Seriously. Don’t tell me that someone tried to rob the same bank a third time in a row?”

“Ding, ding, ding. Winner, winner, chicken dinner,” I replied drolly, with a shrug. “And I shared your feeling of disbelief. Three times in three days? It was obvious that there was something valuable inside that bank... er, more than just money, I mean. Something special enough that three separate groups tried on three separate nights to break in.” I sighed softly. “What’s that saying about once or twice being coincidence, but three times being someone trying to get ya—”

“‘Once is happenstance, twice is coincidence, three times is enemy action,’” she stated with a smirk. “It’s an Ian Fleming quote, from Goldfinger, if I’m not mistaken. A friend of a friend is a huge James Bond fan.” She sighed softly, rolling her eyes. “Truth be told, so is my other friend, though he really only shows that side when Nigel is egging him on. But please... continue your story. What happened on the third night?”

Okay. So after the first two nights, I was a bit wary of heading by the First National Bank again. Either it was simply a magnet for crazies, or there was something valuable locked away in that vault that every cook and their granny was trying to obtain. Either way, I wasn’t looking forward to going past that area again. I actually prolonged my patrol, covering all the other sections first, just to be sure. I managed to stop two purse snatchers, stop a carjacking and helped get Mrs. Farnsworth’s cat out of the tree for the bazillionth time.

Seriously. The old woman should just keep the thing inside the house with her, or let it stay in the damn tree.

When I finally made my way back to the bank yet again, I couldn’t help but curse out loud. “Oh, you are fucking kidding me?!?” I yelled to no one at all. The back door had not only been forced open, but it had also been ripped off its hinges, and lay bent and warped on the ground a few feet away. Heck, even the door frame itself was damaged as if someone had used a bomb or something to blast it open. Yet there were no blackened or scorched areas, and my finely tuned senses had not heard any explosions in the area, nor did I even smell a hint of gunpowder. All of which added up to really bad news—someone with superhuman powers was at work here. I cursed again, kicking myself for having put this off until last when my enhanced hearing detected sounds coming from inside the bank. My crook was still there! I hadn’t missed him after all—

Eh? What do you mean, I don’t have to keep talking about my ‘enhanced senses’? Yeah, yeah, I know you know about my powers and how they work. I just think it helps to add a bit of context, yanno? I mean, otherwise it kind of sounds far-fetched to say ‘I heard him moving around inside the bank’ from the roof across the street. Right? Wha... suspended disbelief? Heh... okay, fine, then. I’ll concede the point...

I made my way down and carefully entered the bank. I’d never had the chance to go inside before, but I’d been in a bank or two before and knew pretty much about the general layout. Creeping quietly through the business offices, however, I had to admit the First National Bank of River City was a lot nicer than your standard generic Banner Bank, or KeyBank, where I banked. The decor alone was on a whole other level: marble floors, chandeliers, busts of statues... heck there was even a small fountain in the middle of the foyer!

My attention was ripped away from the tasteful decorations by the sound of a loud bang of metal on metal. “Grrrr... dammit, which one is it?” a deep gravelly, definitely male voice grumbled from inside the vault area. Turning in that direction, I crept closer, only to gasp in shock at the sight of the person robbing the place.

Stonewall. Stonewall FUCKING Jackson, the biggest, baddest, toughest bad guy around. The guy whose body was basically a human-shaped slab of solid granite with eyes, nose, and a mouth. A walking talking behemoth. And yeah, I get that I’m kinda belaboring the name and identity of the thief a bit, but you have to understand what a big deal this was! On that scale you guys came up with, I’m like a ranked C Super, and my... huh? What? A ‘D’?!?

Tch. Fine. I’m a D, then. Whatever.

Anyway, the guy I was facing... he was at the very least a high B, possibly an A—

FINE! ‘A’ then! You have the damned classification system memorized. Big whoop! My point is, the guy outclassed me. By a lot. I mean, I was strong enough to bend an iron bar... with a lot of effort. The guy rummaging through the vault a few feet away from me could fold industrial grade steel like it was paper! I swallowed painfully as I saw him punch through the stack of secured, reinforced lockboxes and rip the entire stand free from the wall, exposing the concrete and rebar of the wall behind it. There were literal stacks of money all around him, twenties, fifties, hundreds, thousands even, but he completely ignored them searching through the various lock boxes for his prize.

I took a moment to steady myself. I took a deep breath. Whatever this guy was up to, no matter how big and tough and practically invincible he seemed, he was still a bank robber. And I had to stop him. Add in the fact that his ‘less-than-stealthy’ entrance into the bank had likely set off any number of silent alarms, I really only had to stall the guy until someone a bit more sturdy came along. With that in mind, I stepped forward into the vault...

Just as the big lug turned around. SHIT!

“Heh. Weeell, what do we have here?” he said, holding a small lockbox marked ‘No. 43’ tightly in his misshapen hand. “Looks like I got myself a little snooper. And one in a costume, too.” He frowned a bit, staring at my chest, to the point that I shifted a bit, uncomfortably, crossing my arms over my breasts. I know I wasn’t as big up top as SOME heroines I could name... er, no, Doc, I was NOT staring at your rack. Point is, the guy was perving out on me. Or at least I thought he was.

“Huh. Don’t recognize that symbol,” he muttered, waving a hand dismissively, no doubt referring to the golden inverted ‘V’ on my chest, the symbol for ‘Pinnacle’. Which made me blush as well as feel stupid. “At any rate, ya don’t look like no threat. Beat it, shrimpy,” he said, stomping towards me. “I got places to be and people to see—important people, that is. Not you.”

I’ll admit it. He got my dander up. Your nephew preaches a pretty standard and effective way of handling these kinds of encounters, particularly when facing someone that majorly outclasses you. He stresses having a plan, a strategy of some kind, remembering to retreat if things turn sour, and above all else, keep your cool. I know all that. I’ve been in tight spots before and managed to do all of the above. And yet... with that insult, all my training just went right out the window.

“You big dumb slab of granite!” I yelled, grabbing a steel beam, a piece of the crumpled and broken vault door. “I’ll show you who’s fucking important!” And I swung hard as I could, smacking the bar against the side of his head. And... did absolutely nothing to the guy at all, though I did dent the bar and nearly wrench my own arms from their sockets with the impact. Amused, Stonewall jerked the bar from my numb and stinging hands, crumpling it like an empty tin can, then backhanded me across the room, slamming me hard into one of those tastefully decorated mahogany wood walls.

“Yeah, nice shot kid,” he muttered, tossing the flattened bar to the ground. “You really showed me, all right.”

Honestly, at that point, I considered cutting my losses. My head was ringing. My body hurt all over. I was absolutely sure I was going to have a whole new list of bruises to add to the one on my chest. But nothing hurt as much as my pride did at the moment. Besides... I still had an ace up my sleeve. I just needed to get and hold his attention for a few seconds. After I managed to get back up on my feet, I called out to him again.

“So... Rocky... is that all you got?” I managed, gathering and charging up my power. “You’re definitely no Ivan Drago... you couldn’t put me down for the count.” I grinned as he paused and turned around. “And just for the record, you hit like a girl!”

“You know what, bitch?” he growled, turning and stomping back towards me, “I was gonna cut you a break... but then you had to make a really bad Rocky Balboa joke. So now you can call me Clubber Lang... because it’s clubberin’ time!” Not exactly what I’d expected, but I DID have his attention. Focusing my power, I locked my gaze with his and began to unleash my power.

“Pinnacle St—”

“FREEZE! Hold it right there!”

Surprised, I turned around, spotting a pair of police officers with guns drawn, having entered into the back from the main entrance behind me. Unfortunately, it was the perfect storm of coincidences in the worst possible combination. Caught off guard, I’d unwittingly unleashed my gathered power, brain blasting the unwary officers, putting them into a stupor. Stonewall, a bit thick, was no idiot, however, and when the officers went limp, dropping their guns to stare straight ahead, empty and vacant, he realized what I’d done. Laughing, he slapped his own leg in amusement.

“Hey... nice shot there, kid. Looks like you had more up your sleeve than just empty bravado after all,” he stated, staring me down. He made a show of cracking his knuckles... and considering that his hands were made of solid granite, it was definitely a fearsome sight and sound. “I said I was going to crush you for getting in my way,” he said, smirking down at me, “but seeing as how you just cleared the way for me with the police... I think I’ll give you a pass.” He strode past me, heading through the back entrance, still clutching the lockbox. “Count yourself lucky, kid. You get to live and fight another day.”

It took a few seconds for me to come to terms with what had happened. The fact that I was still alive after failing so miserably, that I was NOT, in fact, flatter than a pancake. My senses were alive and spiked with adrenaline. My vision was sharper. I could hear the sound of Stonewall stomping outside, as well as the nearby traffic rolling by. I could feel the building’s AC blowing, raising every single hair along my skin. And I could smell... urine? Oh... right. That was me.

Thank goodness my costume was chemically treated.

You’re probably wondering why I didn’t simply Stare him down again when the first try failed. Well, here’s a hidden secret about my special power. It’s kind of like ‘I’m a firin’ up mah laser’ when I do it. I have to charge it up, meaning I can’t simply fire it off in a rapid-fire barrage. Also, its a bit draining—after I use it, it takes me a few seconds to recover, leaving me pretty weak and vulnerable even then. So, as I said, it’s my trump card, my ace in the hole... but I tended to use it as a last resort because of the downside that comes with it.

“...arrrgghhh... what the hell?” I heard Stonewall grunting from just outside, followed by the sound of something impacting with stone. Which meant someone was actually engaging with him outside. After breaking the two cops out of their trance and telling them to stay put, I followed and slipped deftly out the back as well. And I couldn’t help but gape at the sight of two colorfully clad young heroines, about my age, height, and weight, staring down the big behemoth.

Of course, I recognized the costumes and faces after a moment as Sunbeam and Splash, my fellow students in your nephew’s training academy. And, considering that they were two newbies from far off Midas City, and crazy enough to face him head-on, most likely, they didn’t have any idea what they were getting themselves into.

“Heh. Not a bad shot there, cupie doll,” he murmured, running a hand along his chin. “I almost felt that. Maybe if you did it a few hundred more times, it might actually make me itch.”

“Damn,” Sunbeam cursed, adopting a defensive pose along with her partner. “This guy’s a lot tougher than he looks. And he looks damned tough. Any ideas, Splash?”

“Sorry, I got nothing,” she replied with a shrug. “I hit him with my strongest water blast, and it did, well, nothing. Besides, he a local, right? You’d know him better than I would.”

“Blah, blah, blah,” Stonewall grunted, charging forward, batting the two heroines away like a man swatting mosquitoes. “Later, losers! Next time, bring someone along with you that packs a bit more of a punch... like Omega Girl.” He chuckled as he made his way out of the alleyway.

I rushed over to the two downed heroines, checking them over. “Ugghh... okay, that sucked,” Splash muttered as she got back to her feet. “You okay, Sunny?”

“Y-yeah,” Sunbeam grunted, as I helped her up. “Don’t think anything’s actually broken, but I’ll probably be bruised all over tomorrow.” She nodded to me. “Huh? Pinnacle? Thanks. Not sure where you came from, or how long you’ve been here, but why didn’t you try to stop him as well? Not that it would have done much good against a guy like that, but still...”

“Oh, I already gave it a shot inside the bank,” I replied, gesturing over my shoulder. “And it worked about as well as you guys’ attempt just now.” I sighed. “Look. If you guys are willing to give it one more try, I think we can actually beat him. My trump card, my Pinnacle Stare, should be able to be able to brain blast him into submission. The thing is... I need you two to keep him occupied and distracted for a minute or two until I’m ready.”

Sunbeam and Splash glanced at each other, considering. “What do you think?” Sunbeam asked. “Wanna give it another try?”

Splash smirked. “Hell yes. Now that we have a game plan, sure. Getting smacked into a wall hurt, but not nearly as much as my pride at getting trounced by that guy!”

All in agreement of our hastily hatched strategy, I sprinted ahead, taking a left running in the opposite direction Stonewall had taken, while the other two rushed after him. He’d just left the street, cutting across Municipal Park, when they reached him. “Hey, boulder breath!” Splash called out, hands extended, “we’re not done yet!” She fired another blast of water at him from the back, and he paused, turning back again, his expression no longer amused.

“You girls don’t know when to quit,” he growled, setting down his purloined lockbox for the moment. “You kids wanna play games. Fine, we’ll play games.” Splash fired another blast, and Stonewall laughed. “Oooh... Squirtle used water. It was ineffective.”

“Maybe so, but she was just a distraction,” Sunbeam grunted, stepping forward, her entire body thrumming with barely contained energy. “Needed some extra time... to charge up... for this!” she yelled, letting out her strongest light bolt. It struck true, hitting Stonewall in the middle of the chest with a crack like thunder... but when the smoke and dust cleared, he was still standing.

“And now Bulbasaur uses Solarbeam,” Stonewall quipped. “It was also ineffective.” Punching the ground, he jerked free a rather large slab of limestone and quartz from the ground, and tossing it at the two heroines, forcing them to scatter out of the way. “And Golem uses Rock Throw and its goddamn super effective!”

I couldn’t help but wince at all this from my hiding spot. It was bad enough that the guy was using Pokemon First Gen references... but even then, the comparison was totally jacked up. If he HAD been a damned Golem, Squirtle and Bulbasaur should have totally wrecked his world. Plant and Water-types dominate Rock types, after all... tch. Fine. Yes, Doc, I am obsessing over the wrong part of the conflict. It just irritated me, that’s all.

At any rate, my girl Splash wasn’t quite down for the count. Rather than relying on her own powers, she instead tapped into the nearby resources of the park. Pulling moisture in from the nearby fountain and the sprinklers, she gathered a large torrent of water, and send it crashing down on Stonewall, finally knocking him off his feet. Where he landed right in front of me.

“Well, well, look at that! Squirtle just used Surf, and was fucking rocked the big rock!” I crowed as he staggered back to his feet. Eye to eye once more, I let loose with my Pinnacle stare... and had the satisfaction of watching all the expression fade from his face as all his thoughts ground to a halt inside that concrete cranium. “And Drowsee uses Hypnosis,” I stated with a smirk, hands on my hips. “And guess what? It’s Super FUCKING Effective as well. Looks like I just caught a Stonewall.”

“Heh, with our help, of course,” Sunbeam added, dusting herself off as she and Splash joined me. “I was never really that big into Pokemon as a kid, but I think I’m starting to see the appeal.”

I chuckled at that. “Well, I hung in there for Generation 3, Ruby and Sapphire, but after that, they just started getting excessive.” I knelt down, picking up the bent and twisted remains of the lockbox he’d taken from the bank, labeled No. 42. “Well, looks like we recovered what he took,” I stated, holding it up for the others, just as a squad of police cars approached our position. I was curious about what was inside, why Stonewall and the other crooks over the past three nights had been so dead set on breaking in to retrieve it. But, well, I didn’t want to set a bad example in front of the other two heroines, so I held my curiosity in check, then handed the box and Stonewall, over to the authorities when they arrived.

Afterward, Splash, Sunbeam, and I all said our goodbyes, and I headed home to take a nice hot shower and try to work some of the kinks out...

As I finished my tale, I glanced up, noticing the expression on Dr. Snow’s face. “Huh? What? What is it?” I asked, concerned. “Did I say something wrong?”

Eva frowned deeper, sighing to herself. “Well, frankly, knowing you as well as I do, dear, don’t you think your rather mature and correct decision not to peek in at what the villains were after is a bit... I don’t know... out of character for you?”

Now it was my turn to scowl. “Apparently so is you paying me a compliment,” I muttered, glancing away. “Look, I came here for you to figure out why I’m having these stupid nightmares, okay? You’re a damned psychic... you already know all the answers anyway. Just cut to the chase and tell me what’s going on inside my head and how to fix it!”

Eva sighed again, shaking her head. “My dear, first of all, you know how this works. There is a process to this. Psychology works by encouraging the patient to discover the hidden truths in their own minds by themselves. I can tell you something about yourself the entire time of this office visit, but if you don’t accept it as the truth, then it doesn’t help. That’s why I and my colleagues work the way we do... to guide a person to find the answers themselves.” She sat back in her chair. “Lastly, Hannah dear, I wasn’t trying to insult you. I was pointing out one of those obvious truths to you, trying to get you to question something you’d just said.”

I blinked, staring at her, trying to connect the dots. “Sorry... you lost me. I still don’t get it. What are you trying to say, Doc?”

“I’m saying, dear, that for you NOT to peek into that box, and simply handing things over to the police to let them handle it, and then heading home for a shower, putting it all out of your mind? That’s not like you at all. And I think that acting that way, in your own mind, was enough of an inconsistency that your subconscious was unable to let it go, even in your sleep. Hence your nightmare.” She removed her glasses, cleaning them idly before continuing. “Because, my dear, you did NOT simply walk away and head home after capturing Stonewall. Something happened to you, something that you can’t remember, something that scared you so deeply that the echoes lingering in your subconscious caused you to wake up screaming in a panic later that night.”

My eyes widened as I finally got what she was saying. “So... I don’t remember what really happened that night. What I think happened was just a fantasy, a fake memory someone put inside my head. What you’re really saying is... is...”

“That’s right,” Dr. Snow replied grimly. “You’re been ‘Danganrompa’ed.”