The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Never Have Colourful Outfits Heralded A Hivemind Incursion

By Mr. Scade

Chapter 8: The Dread of Blue-On-Black

“It is quiet. Too quiet.” Jo whispered.

“It is three p.m.—classes ended an hour ago.” Bor stated.

“That doesn’t mean anything. People usually stay for extra classes or whatever else they have after classes. Usually sports..”

“Who in their right mind would stay in school after classes!?” Bor looked utterly flabbergasted. “On a Friday even!”

Jo gave him a searching look. “You actually didn’t like anything about school?”

“Not one bit.”

Jo rolled her eyes. They had been sitting under some trees on a hill overlooking the schoolyard for the past hour. They were hidden from sight thanks to some bushes and the shadow from a nearby building, so they had easily avoided detection (a pair of spying eyes near a school would have triggered too many alarms). To pass the time, the two decided to talk about, well, school. Jo liked it and thought it was a great time in her life; Bor had utterly loathed his high school years and wished nothing more than to never set foot inside one again.

“And you’re sure that your friend is in there?” Bor said, stretching his legs.

Jo nodded. “I sent her a text a while ago and she said she would meet with me after class.” She frowned. “But, as you saw, the kids were... acting strangely when they started pouring out of the building.”

“Well, yeah, they were not running away in utter happiness.”

“Exactly.”

Bor frowned. “Wait... that’s true.” He straightened. “And the ones that stayed simply went back inside and, what, locked themselves in there?” He pointed at the three-storey building down the hill. “I haven’t seen a single person walk out of there. And you mentioned that the school now has a football team” His finger moved towards the green field. “That place is as desolated as a bureaucracy is free from efficiency.”

Jo pulled out her mobile and checked her messages for the seventh time in the last ten minutes. “Alejandra hasn’t answered my messages and she won’t pick up her telephone.” Jo frowned and put her phone back inside her pocket. “I wonder... what if she’s already—”

“Then that makes our job easier.” Bor interrupted, looking solemn.

“What!?” Jo’s eyes went wide as she jumped to her feet. “How can you say that, you ass? She might be converted; she might already be a slave to... that! If so, what then? What if this thing doesn’t work? We don’t know if this solution is real, you said so yourself. You don’t know. If it isn’t then she’s fucking lost!”

“Yes, we don’t know.” Bor’s voice was neutral. He slowly pulled himself back to his feet. “We don’t know if it is going to work, or if it is even going to do anything. It might make them angry, or evaporate them. Grigori had qualms about it, but even he knew that it was worth a try.” He sighed and looked over at the school. “Maybe it won’t work, yes, but it has to work. It’s the only thing we have to go against them. It has to work.”

Bor sounded so convinced that even he believed himself. If he could believe it, then why couldn’t Jo? She looked at him with pleading eyes—he didn’t take the hint—and then sighed, turning to look at the school. “Alejandra...” She whispered.

Bor looked around, not quite sure what to say. It will work, won’t it? I mean, it has to.

“Jo...” Bor wanted to touch her shoulder and comfort her, but refrained from it. He didn’t know her that well. “You do know what your friend is afraid of, right?” He said instead.

Jo raised her head but didn’t turn around. “Blood. She’s terrified of it.”

Bor blinked. Great, where are we going to get some blood? “How—”

“How scared does she get at the sight of blood?” Jo interrupted, not really paying attention. “She faints. That’s how much she fears blood. I think we have our backsides covered with that strong a phobia.”

Bor sighed and stood next to Jo. “I meant to say, how do we find blood?”

Jo gave him a half-smile. “The cafeteria? The labs?” She shrugged. “We find a knife and cut her palms, or prick our fingers and drop a drop on her forehead. As long as it is blood, it will serve.” She sighed.

Bor looked at Jo’s face. Her brow was set, her jaw clenched, her mouth twisted in a sad smirk. She was worried.

I’ll do this for you. Bor thought before he said. “Let’s go, the sooner we’re done the better our chances.”

Jo looked up, her frown suddenly transformed into determination. “Let’s do this.”

* * *

Amanda didn’t know what to do. Doubt boiled in her thoughts like a soup left too long on the stove. She was so preoccupied with this nagging question that she had to ignore her pride and ask her fellow haigure brothers and sisters. The answers were varied and loud and it took a while for Amanda to find one voice that made enough sense inside the cacophony of useful thoughts. But secrets were seldom a concept understood by hiveminds; and Amanda’s searching didn’t go unnoticed.

Cosette was sitting on a throne of sorts, several haigure girls and boys sitting by her feet. The concept of a queen within the hivemind had been rejected at first, but it soon grew too powerful to ignore. One voice within the collective had convinced others to think of Cosette as their queen. Now so many people believed this that a hierarchy inside a collective of minds had formed. All were equal, but all had one they bowed to. So strong was the thought that even Cosette believed it. She was their queen, their guide, their ruler, their mistress. And Amanda didn’t know how to deal with that, but others did. They knew how to cope with the change and that is why she asked them, in secret of course. But as we have explained, those are irrelevant.

“Amanda, haigure,” Cosette smiled from her throne; her orange leotard glistening under the light of incandescent light bulbs. “Come to me, please.”

Amanda obeyed, smiling to herself as the leotard rubbed her body in all the right places. The feeling would never grow old. “Yes, haigure sister?”

Cosette smiled. “We’re growing so nicely, haigure. Very soon the whole town will become us.” She ran a finger over her encased crotch, cooing to herself. Some people in the audience cooed in the exact same tone. “We have eyes everywhere, voices everywhere, ears everywhere. We know everything going on in this town and in the others. Oh, soon enough we will show everyone the glory of haigure! Everyone will feel true delight all the time! Haigure! Isn’t that wonderful!?”

For a fraction of a second Amanda felt as the tendrils of anger were sprouting inside her mind. But it soon faded away. Anger couldn’t take over haigure, over bliss.

Amanda was happy, of course—soon enough the whole world will be a we, one with everyone, part of the collective. And she had helped it grow. She couldn’t help but bend her knees, press her crotch against a palm, and dance against her fingers.

For a fraction of a second Cosette felt Amanda’s apprehension, but then it disappeared. No matter, we are one. We are haigure.

“Haigure and obey.” Moaned a group of happy people.

“Haigure and obey.” Cosette and Amanda moaned in unison.

Amanda walked closer to her queen and sat next to her. Without word one hand cupped the other’s sex and the other way around. The two whispered to themselves, to the whole of the collective and pushed their crotches against each other’s hands.

The two kept at it for a long while, mindlessly rubbing each other while more and more voices joined in. For every minute that went by a new voice made the collective grow stronger. They heard students and teachers, workmen and swimmers. All sorts of people started to pour into the growing hivemind, increasing the levels of bliss, the collective intelligence, and the overall feeling that was perpetual in haigure converts that amounted to the afterglow happiness of an orgasm.

Suddenly Amanda had a thought. No, suddenly they had a thought.

“Do not worry, our sister.” Cosette giggled. “We already have people about to capture him. Soon enough he will be one with us. He will be haigure.”

Poor Bor, Amanda thought. He will be joining haigure in a most unpleasant way... but then he’ll be haigure.

Thoughts of her friend’s hot body trapped in a delicious leotard made Amanda’s body rock to another orgasm. This one felt far superior to previous ones; this one felt true, deep, familiar. Amanda had lost count of the obedience-induced orgasms a while ago, but to experience a fresh one with such a distinctive feel reminded her that even if she was one with thousands, she was still herself.

Amanda lost herself to an onslaught of corrupting ideas, each one more cunning and twisted.

She realised she didn’t care how Bor would join them.

* * *

Bor and Jo snuck through a hidden hole in the chain link fence surrounding the schoolyard.

“This is too weird,” Bor interjected when she went on about the missing cheerleaders and janitors. “And too freaky.”

“I am waiting for someone to jump at us.” Jo said ominously.

Bor gave her a pleading look. “Don’t tempt fate, please.”

Jo found the reaction amusing.

The two began to round the outer yard, passing a basketball court and an avocado tree. When they reached the back door Jo stopped to look around, indecision in her eyes.

“What is it?’ Bor said with the impatience of someone who knew he might lose his sanity at any moment. He turned around to give the yard another wary look. It was still deserted. They were the only souls around, at least the only ones they knew were not converted.

“I... it...” Jo sighed, distress in her voice. “Alejandra told me to meet her down by the gym, just outside it.” She pointed at the small concrete path that zigzagged toward a one-storey building with no windows to speak of. .

“And since we haven’t found anyone here, and we’re inferring they have all been converted, you fear it to be a trap.”

Jo gave him a curious look. “How come you can be so...”

“Charming?” He smiled.

“God, no!” Jo bared her teeth. “Stupid yet incredibly observant at the same time?”

Bor gave Jo an annoyed look. Another one who is quicker than I am, he thought. Bor shrugged. “It is a gift.” He added lamely.

He looked and acted and talked with such jest in his voice that no one could believe he cared. But Jo knew he did. He acted cool and controlled and most likely he was cool and controlled all the time; but something told her that it was all a façade to hide the same feelings she had. Fear, anger, apprehension. Maybe it was his tactic; if his theory was correct, then fear was exactly what he needed to combat the infection. She so wished she was dead right, so that the only person who could save them all from the infection wouldn’t succumb. Or maybe Jo was simply overthinking it.

“We have two options: get into the gymnasium and see if Alejandra’s there and hope that she’s converted so I don’t have to convince her to get converted. Or go up the stairs and try and discover what is going on in here and hope we find her and don’t run into an army of zombies while we do that.” Jo ran her fingers through her crown of black hair, grimacing. What to do? Should I allow myself to-

“No.” Bor looked at her, interrupting his train of thought.. “I know you’re thinking about it and we’re not doing it.”

“But we might...” Jo trailed away as the stupidity of her idea dawned on her. She sighed. “You’re right. We cannot take such risks.”

Glad she saw reason. I am not ready to find converted people. Bor fixed his backpack’s shoulder straps and looked at the gymnasium. “Any way to get in there without being noticed?”

Jo thought for a moment and then shook her head; but stopped and looked up, her eyes wide. “Wait, there is one way! There’s a window through the back that leads into a tiny, tiny room under the bathroom stairs. We can go in through there.”

Bor smiled. “Then that is option number one. Let’s go.” I remember that window.

The two rounded the building and found a narrow dirt hallway between wall and fence. It had rubbish of all kinds and sizes clambered together from bottom to mouth. He didn’t remember that alley from his days at this school, but he did recognize some of the broken scribbles on the chairs and headless statues he once sculpted in class. Amazing, he mused as the two walked towards the end of the alley. Six years and they still haven’t got rid of all this crap.

The window was three meters off the ground, and it was no more than shards of broken glass jutting out of a frame. Going in through there would mean they could risk cutting their bellies into ribbons. Maybe that could be useful if they found Jo’s friend, but it wasn’t advisable. So Bor climbed up a crate and started to clear and break the glass away. The shard clattered to the other side, making a shrill symphony to any expectant ears. Jo gave Bor a hard, scared look once the breaking glass sound echoed into oblivion.

First one in was Bor. He placed an old rug that he found lying in the piles or rubbish on the window frame so as to not cut himself when he pulled himself in. With a grunt and a quick push he fell crouching into the darkness of the corridor. It was not until he helped Jo to the floor that he allowed himself to breath.

“Now, where to?” Bor whispered. He didn’t know if there were any people about and wouldn’t risk it.

Jo understood his intent immediately and lowered her voice. “We go up and hope nobody sees us. The gym is open, with no rooms whatsoever, so we will have no cover.”

Bor’s brow furrowed in thought. “And neither will they.”

Jo looked up the flight of stairs then at the closet door close by. She wondered if it would be prudent to find a weapon, but thought against it. If she had a weapon she would risk killing someone, as scared and freaked out as she was likely to get. But without a weapon of sorts she would be defenceless if a horde of converted people suddenly swarmed her.

Then Jo remembered that she had nothing with which to draw blood if the situation with her friend Alejandra required that, which, as she suspected, it undoubtedly would.

“Let’s go in here,” She said all of a sudden, quickly placing her hand over the rusty, brass doorknob.

Immediately a set of fingers wrapped around her hand. Bor shook his head. “Careful.” He whispered and then opened the door.

The closet was empty.

The two let out relieved sighs and then looked around. Bor had caught on to what Jo was thinking so he quickly grabbed a small knife that was lying on a table. Jo rummaged around. She found a hammer, which was much too heavy; a saw, which wouldn’t actually help her one bit; a screwdriver she found to be too light; and a shard of glass, which would cut her if she gripped it.

Finally, she settled for a lead pipe. It was the right size to keep in her pocket; not too heavy and not too light and with the right length to cause damage and not put her too close to the converts. Jo knew that distance was key. If they touched you, you were a goner.

“Okay, now we go up.” Bor interjected into her internal monologue.

Silently the two went up the short flight of stairs, and the next, and then found themselves at the end of a dark hallway. They made their way to the mouth of the gym and saw that all lights were turned off. In the gloom of the building, with so few windows, it looked almost like night.

Movement in the dark A flash of colour, or a flash of light. Shadows playing tricks or people moving about. In the penumbra, everything was grey, shapeless; everything was the same. They were paranoid and seeing enemies in the dark.

Directly in front of them they could see the outline of several work-out machines—treadmills, weights, static bikes, abdominal tables... the whole lot. The machines were neatly ordered in rows, filling up half of the gym’s wide space. As Jo had mentioned, they had little cover unless they decided to crouch down between machines, but that would only keep them hidden if the other person was blind. But they had a clear view of the whole gym. There was no way they could be surprised...

“Shit,” Bor whispered. He tightened his grip of the knife.

“What?” Jo looked around restlessly.

“Over there, just beyond the treadmills.”

Jo looked to where he was pointing and saw, outlined in the dark, a huge stage. No, Jo thought, a crate. Somebody had pushed a massive crate to the center of the wall opposite the machines and placed speakers on top. Somebody had built a stage... but what for?

Jo cursed under her breath. She felt a not altogether unpleasant shiver go down her spine. Her legs shook very slightly.

“There is someone in here.” She said.

Bor tensed. “How do you know?”

An instant later the gym became alive. The two lurkers were blinded as overhead lights were suddenly on. They shielded their eyes, staring at the group of people pouring into the gym from doors hidden behind walls. They were not that many, but enough to make Bor and Jo, who had witnessed converted people, consider the practicalities of machine guns.

They were shadows of one colour, all in uniform. A dark sky blue from the waist up—a colour that was both bland and so deep that your eyes fell into a blur of pauper colour. From the waist down a colour so deep that it seemed to drink all light and then throw it back; it was endless, infinite, a whole dimension of just one neutral concept: black. Their legs were a contrasting white; shiny and bright, like white dwarfs casting their lights in a box. Light danced on their leotard-clad bodies, turning the blue a thousand shades, all poor and lifeless; turning the void of the black into an abyss calling for you; turning the leggings into the white light at the end of the tunnel.

And they were terrifying.

Bor and Jo backed away, pushing shoulder against shoulder. They held their weapons in hand, bent their knees, and desperately looked for a way out that didn’t require one person to push the other through a tiny window and then fall prey to an onslaught of meaningless happiness.

Six paces ahead, on the wall behind them was a metal door. They quickly ran towards it and banged and pushed and pulled desperately.

It was closed.

Bor made an assertion of the scene. Twenty. Thirty. Thirty-three persons poured into the gym from the hidden doors. Bor saw senior students with fit bodies, and endowed bodies, and fat bodies; little boys and pre-teen girls; he noticed 15-year-old students; and teachers old and new. Tall, short, fat, slim, curvaceous, stocky, voluptuous, nerdy, slutty. He saw all types of people. All with one thing in common: their haigure uniform.

He heard Jo whisper that they had hidden in the bathrooms and then curse herself. There was no way they could get out, unless the door some feet away from the growing conglomeration of people wasn’t locked; and they couldn’t risk reaching it—there was no way they could fight against so many.

The wall of smiling, giggling, empty faces stared right at Jo. It was like being stared at by a devil. After a second they stared at Bor. Bor didn’t notice it but Jo felt their eyes on her, felt their minds reaching out to her, felt their slimy leotards dripping on her back, trying to turn her clothes into a leotard. She shuddered.

Jo gripped her pipe; its sturdy weight brought her attention back to her dilemma.

“Haigure and obey.” Thirty-three voices said in unison.

Jo felt a warm feeling spread through her body. Bor felt his heart skip a bit. Fuck, I have to cover my ears, Bor thought.

“You’re not part of us yet. Haigure.” Not one spoke out of time with the other. They all moved their lips in perfect synchronization. “We cannot feel your delight at being haigure. That must be corrected. Jo and Bor, you have to join us.”

Jo squeaked a “fuck” and Bor felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand. He could tell how they knew about Jo. Hell, he thought some of those converted were Jo’s classmates. But how did they know about him? He wasn’t well known in town and he had never met any of those faces. The teachers he had when he was a student were not among those unless.... My old teachers. No, they couldn’t recognize me. Ideas flashed through his mind. He needed to find an explanation; he needed to know.

Jo stood frozen. She didn’t know why they had focused on her, but she understood that she had something on her—inside her—that they were attracted to. She had to escape, somehow. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” She cursed under her breath.

“We have to stop you, Bor. Haigure will stop you and then haigure will spread unchecked and unchallenged.” It was like watching a military drill; everyone stood at attention, moving in perfect synchronization. They bent their knees, spread their legs so the two soon-to-be-victims’ eyes would fall on their crotches, stretched their arms to frame their sexes, and looked right into Jo’s eyes and then at Bor. “Hai-gu...” They raised their arms. “...re!” And the arms flashed down, rubbing their sexes.

No... no, no, no. Lore... She knew about Carrera and told Cosette. And now they all know. Bor averted his eyes from the dancing people and turned to Jo. She was petrified. Her eyes were frozen open upon the spectacle, her hands were shaking, her lips were parted... Bor quickly stood between her eyes and the haigure slaves. “Jo, snap out of it!” He shook her and then slapped her face. He was utterly relieved when he saw her eyes react him. “If you stare at them or pay attention they will get to you.”

Haigure. Haigure. Haigure.

Jo wanted to say something, to explain that she was feeling strange. She felt a pleasant shiver go down her spine and suppressed a moan. “What? Oh, yes... you’re right.” She shook her head again, feeling the weight of the pipe in her hand. Suddenly the shiver went away and she felt a tightening in her gut.

“How do we escape them?” Her voice was a croak.

Bor looked about. How do you escape a hivemind? “I don’t know.” He shook his head and turned to stare at the crouching group. The way they smiled... I was sickening and... mesmerizing.

Haigure. Haigure. Haigure.

Bor pinched his cheek and turned his eyes away.

The infected group started to walk towards their prey. They had to convert them; it was a command, an imperative, a need. Their steps were painfully slow. They got closer, one by one, chanting, touching, moaning. Their voices bounced off walls, bounced off objects, filling the world with the song of haigure.

Bor walked to the wall opposite to where they were. Jo followed suit. There was another, smaller door there, hidden behind a curtain. Bor didn’t even question the drapery. He and Jo ripped off the piece of cloth and tried, with all their strength, to pry open the metallic door. It didn’t so much as make a creak.

They turned around—haigure, haigure—to see throbbing cocks rubbing up and down tight latex, breasts unable to jiggle at the perfection of their outfits, pussies being penetrated by the most glorious material. It was an appalling—arousing—sight. They turned around and started banging on the door.

Seconds passed and the idea of running was purged from both of their minds. They were still fighting, thinking, and trying to find a way to escape. But, run away? No, the idea didn’t come across any more. The sound of banging metal soon died away.

Jo’s back was pressed against something cold and metallic. She still held the pipe, stroking it to remember she was still free from... from the thing’s corrupting influence.

Bor kept thinking back to Lore and Amanda. He had been the one carrying Cosette inside the house... he was the one that brought down this curse upon their heads. It was his responsibility to get rid of it and now he was going to succumb. He was the one to blame for everything.

Haigure. Haigure. Haigure.

Jo blinked, feeling her knees growing weaker. She wasn’t looking, she wasn’t even thinking about them; she was focused on escaping, on figuring out how to leave the gym. But her ears were working. She could hear them, getting closer. She could hear them chanting, filling her mind with the word. She could feel Bor breathing next to her, his back to the procession of leotards. It didn’t matter, really, they would succumb soon enough; you couldn’t escape if you didn’t want to run.

She felt a shiver go down her spine as her mouth opened slightly. Her lips parted and a word came out. She didn’t hear it. She just felt it. It was like a delicious pie, like a bubble bath, like a cool, rainy evening. It was delicious and so, very, very right. Jo couldn’t help but giggle, a smile painting her face. Why did it feel so... so cool? So fun?

Jo didn’t give it a second thought as she mouthed the word again.

Bor’s forehead was pressed hard against a piece of metal. It hurt, but it kept his mind from falling back into the symphony of mindless happiness at his back. He couldn’t fall prey, he couldn’t allow himself to lose in such a shitty way! He had to fight it! He had to fight... but it felt so good. Just the word—the concepts it brought into his colourful imagination—was better than anything he had ever experienced.

The leotard-wearing bodies were upon them. So close that Jo felt their uniforms over her body even if they were not physically touching her skin. She could feel their words kissing her breasts, their fingers reaching for her willpower, their minds reaching out to corrupt hers. Their slithery, slippery tentacles were inside her head, she realised with muted surprise. They moved in unison to their singing, like an orchestra to a director’s hand movement. She wanted nothing more than to stop struggling and let their vice-grip squish the resistance out of her, but she couldn’t do that. She couldn’t disappoint anyone, least of all herself.

They were so close. Jo could feel her clothes getting tighter, or was it her mind? She didn’t know, not really. She thought her clothes were getting tighter, feeling better on her skin, feeling wonderful, but it was all in her head. She moaned, not in arousal or happiness, but in desperation and... and... fear.

FEAR!

Jo’s eyes flew open just in time to see a girl she knew was in the folklore group get too close to her arm. She flung her lead pipe in a sideways arc, successfully hitting the girl square under the jaw. The girl flew into the air and fell with a loud thud, completely unconscious. The world stood still for a second, all noise silenced but the powerful hammering of her heart. Her chest was the roaring epicentre of an earthquake; rumbling, powerful, penetrating. For a second she was drunk on adrenaline, enough to keep the onslaught of bliss at bay. I’ve never hit anyone, she mused, somewhat proud and somewhat disgusted.

The advancing horde stopped. All over town people felt as if their jaws were splintered into a thousand pieces. Pain gripped them like a whore grips your groin.

Quickly she turned her attention to Bor. He had his hands pressed tight against his ears, his back to the hands that were just about to touch him. Without thinking she lunged at the thralls, hitting arms, and fingers and knuckles. She felt her breathing coming in pants, sweat on her brow. It was exhilarating.

Her grunting and screaming and the sound of breaking bones brought Bor out of his stupor. He felt sluggish and in a trance, and he could swear there was something slithering all over his body. He opened his eyes and they remained open for a long while. He saw Jo, in an Amazonian glory. Immediately he felt the slugs fall off his body as the weight of his situation fell upon him.

I have to run. He thought.

Bor left the defence of their position to Jo, seeing what a good job she was doing. He pulled out the knife and got to work on the door’s lock. He had no clue as to what he was supposed to do. Bor had never picked a lock and he was regretting it.

Haigure. Haig- ARGH!

The musical chanting broke. They stopped squatting and reaching out, they stopped feeling utter and unquestionable bliss and began to feel pain. Pain in their bodies. Pain in their minds. They stopped attacking, even those whose bones Jo had not broken. They stood there, frozen, their stares gone to a star system far away. They didn’t even nurse their hurting arms because they couldn’t feel them. Haigure only felt happiness. But haigure was feeling pain too. Haigure stopped to consider this new phenomenon.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” Bor pushed and picked and tried everything he could think of with his knife and nothing happened.

Jo turned to stare at Bor, her eyes like a demon’s, her breath like the fiery spewing from a volcano. “Nothing!?”

Bor shook his head and kicked the door in desperation.

It flew open.

Both Jo and Bor looked in astonishment. How did it open so easily? But they didn’t care. Without thinking or looking they plunged. They moved so fast they didn’t realize what they had done until they had their backs pressed against the door, feeling fresh air against their damp skins. They turned from the doors when they were sure the lead pipe would barricade the door.

“Thank god I got here so fast.” They heard a breathy, vacuous voice say behind them.

When Bor turned around he saw a tall, voluptuous woman that had more curves than the hill roads connecting Fairmouth to Carrera. For a teenager she looked way too good, too developed, with her long black locks, beautiful cinnamon skin, and pouty lips.

“Alejandra?” Jo whispered, moving closer to the girl in the black jacket.

Alejandra smiled as Jo and pulled herself to her feet. Bor stared at her, a thousand questions running through his mind. She’s okay? They didn’t convert her? Why is she wearing normal clothes in school? Bor knew they had logical explanations, but it was plain that she wasn’t converted. Why else would she save them? That was proof enough that she was not converted.

“How... how did you know?” Jo said, tentatively walking towards her friend.

Alejandra pulled her mobile phone out of her pocket and shook it between fingers. “We got your message about meeting by the gym and came around to meet you. " She pointed at the doors. “Before everyone fell victim to haigure we locked those people in there. We had no idea you would be going inside to look for me, so we waited outside. Then we heard the chanting and knew you were in trouble. The banging clued us in too.”

Jo was glad her friend was okay, but she was disappointed—now they would have to convert her to try their theory. No; not theory. Jo now knew that fear was the weapon against haigure. Fear had saved her, broken their tainting of her mind. And fear would save them all. But first, they had to find out haigure’s fear.

“Well, I am glad you could help us.” Bor said. He extended his hand to shake Alejandra’s. She speaks strangely. He mused.

Alejandra smiled, lips curling upwards in a most devilishly way.

Jo closed her eyes, her body feeling a deep sense of dread. She eyed her friend, her arms, her legs...

“NO!” Jo cried. She felt a shiver go down her spin and sides, a tingling sensation lingering. She knew it... Alejandra felt different. She just did. “She said the word and nothing happened. She said we instead of I. She said “us” instead of them.” Jo was rambling picking at the most minuscule details to mask that she really had no way of knowing. But she knew.

Bor turned his head and abruptly pulled his hand back.

Alejandra gave them a quick, lusty look and then sighed.

“Oh, Jo. How could you betray us so!” Alejandra moaned, her hand pulling her jacket’s zipper down. In a swift movement she discarded it, as well as her skirt. She stood before them, clad only in blue on black and white. She didn’t remove her heels. “Haigure loves you, why can’t you love haigure back?”

Oh, great! Now we can test it. Bor thought, gripping his knife.

Now, more than ever, Jo was convinced of something. Fear had saved her, terror at this abominable infection had allowed her to break free and experience a truly badass moment. She didn’t know if to feel proud or just lucky.

“Bor,” She said, slowly walking towards her friend’s body. “Give me the knife.”

Her voice was like a sharp blade. It was a voice you didn’t say no to. Bor relented his knife at its coldness.

Jo looked at its blade, making sure the rust was minimal.

“Oh, what’re you doing, Jo?” Alejandra giggled. She ran her hands down her sides and rubbed her latex-clad legs together. She was feeling aroused, ecstatic—she had almost managed to trick her friend. If things would’ve gone as planned she would’ve betrayed her and helped her see the glory of haigure. Oh, even if it failed the idea was so delicious, so intoxicating that she was soon to have an orgasm. But no! Of course not. I can never catch Jo—she always has a trick up her sleeve. Alejandra felt many other voices join in on her rant. And now she can feel us. She can feel us!

“I am doing you a favour, Alejandra. I am doing you a great favour.” Jo whispered. She kept walking until she was just beyond Alejandra’s reach.

The two locked stares, one trying to push her way into the other’s mind, trying to find and grasp that thread that allowed Jo to feel haigure’s intent, but failing. Jo simple stared at her friend with unfeeling eyes before she raised her left hand right in front of Alejandra’s face

A flashing bite of steel, a sting, and the world turned red.

Alejandra shrieked and howled. She pulled away, quickly losing colour. She wanted to peel her eyes away, to avert her gaze.... Jo’s hand was a torrent, a flood of blood, drowning her. She started to tremble, feeling the red serpent splatter on her body. “Oh, no, no, no, no.” She moaned, desperately trying to clean away the drops of blood (drowning lakes... so much blood) that fell on her leotard.

Jo smiled through the pain. Her friend’s reaction was more exaggerated than usual, but that is just what she hoped for. Her hand was dripping blood, but not so much as to seem dangerous. “Bor, do you have a handkerchief?” She said idly.

Bor nodded, transfixed at Alejandra’s reaction. She was squirming and crawling on the floor as if the devil itself was before her. She was pale, her skin a greyish brown. He pulled out his handkerchief and gave it to Jo.

Jo smiled sweetly, cleaned her wound, and then covered it with the piece of cloth.

“Seems like it’s working.” Bor said.

Jo didn’t say anything. She gave Alejandra a curious look as she writhed and shrieked. Will that bring more upon us? Likely.

Suddenly Alejandra stopped moaning. She stood still, frozen in place for a while before her eyes flew open. They had a confused stare, but were no longer like foggy glass. She was panting as she pushed herself off the ground.

“I... god...” She curled, placing her head on her hands. “What... fuck, I almost got you.”

Jo relaxed, audibly. “Alejandra...”

“No need to say it,” Alejandra said. She shook all over and then grunted. “Fuck... that was... I... I don’t know what to say.”

Jo’s hand was on her friend’s latex-clad shoulder, rubbing it slightly. “Alejandra, I can’t say I understand what you went through but forget about it. You were not the one trying to corrupt me.”

Alejandra gave Jo a hard stare. “You don’t know anything, Jo. It was ME! All along... tricking you, lying to you.” She shook her head, staring at Jo’s hand with the corner of her eye. “Hai...gure,” Her voice turned dreamy for a second. “doesn’t ‘corrupt’ us. It just connects us in a way you cannot dream of. I was Alejandra, another voice in a collective, another voice amongst many. I was heard and loved and... and it was my idea to spring this trap on you.”

Bor stared in a sullen silence. He looked around, feeling more and more nervous. They are coming, I know that. But he was fascinated too. Here he had a person who had experienced a collective of thoughts, who had first-hand experience into the enemy’s thoughts. They needed Alejandra and he suspected the rest of the collective knew this.

“What do you mean?” Jo said as she helped her friend to her feet.

“I was—”

Bor interjected. “I am sorry to interrupt this heart-breaking reunion, but something tells me that if what Alejandra here says it’s true, then we have less than forty seconds before an army of... leotards find us.”

Both girls looked at Bor and then nodded.

They left just before an army of converted students descended upon the place.

* * *

All over Carrera the order had been given. Embrace haigure. Attack and show everyone our glory! Prompting hundreds of people to remove their clothes in front of both brothers and sisters and dismayed individuals.

Leotards of all colours and forms, with various accessories of the brainwashing type, were let free upon the world. No restraints, no hiding, no tricks.

Conversions started in earnest.

* * *

Alejandra, Bor and Jo were barricaded inside a classroom. Judging by the heaps of discarded clothes, shiny leotards and other items they figured this was where a conversion took place. If you concentrated you could even feel the joy in the room.

Bor pulled out a bottle of water from his backpack and offered it around. Jo took a healthy swig but Alejandra, whose colour had returned, declined, absorbed in her own thoughts.

They had explained to her the important bits.

“You were going to use me regardless?” Alejandra was curled into a ball, and then sighed. “I guess that is fair, seeing what I was about to do to you.”

“Sorry, but we had no choice. You were the only one we could find whose fear we knew about.” Bor added apologetically.

Alejandra looked down at her body. Her leotard was no longer shiny like a star, a special sort of shiny that bent light around it. It was boring, regular-looking, there was nothing special about the leotard, not even its design. She was glad, yes, at being free. But wearing this delicious leotard... it was depressing. She knew she needed to change, but something simply didn’t let her want to do it.

Jo was half following the conversation and half absorbed in her own thoughts. They were one step closer to winning against haigure, then why did she feel so... defeated? She allowed her eyes to fall on Alejandra’s body. Her leotard, it was beautiful, though not as beautiful as it had been moments before. Jo yearned to go and touch it, to feel it on her... No. NO! She screamed in her head. She was feeling it, the desire—haigure. That was how she felt the ambush in the gym before it happened, how she could tell Alejandra was already gone. She was slowly being converted.

What just happened was the strongest push she had experienced since... since when? Had her sister converted her? No, Aizan never touched her. The swimsuit she got her sister? No... it couldn’t be.

“You want me to tell you what our queen is scared of?” Alejandra’s voice broke through Jo’s haze.

Jo looked up, seeing that her companions were talking.

“Yes. I know it is a hivemind, what Cosette knows you know.” Bor said, twisting his lips. “Wait, did you just say ‘queen’?”

Alejandra nodded. “Cosette is our queen. The queen of haigure.” Alejandra breathed in. “She’s beautiful, incredible, the source of haigure. Oh, glorious haigure.”

She ran a hand over her breasts. “To slip into haigure, to think about it, to just say the word; it feels so good.” Her eyes were starting to go blank.

Alejandra’s words made Jo wince.

“Hey, stop that. You look as if you’re about to go under.” Bor smacked a desk with the palm of his hand.

Alejandra jumped and then closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. “Sorry, I am... I am better now. It just feels so good, you know? It felt so good.”

Bor walked towards her, took her hands in his, and whispered soothing words. “Yes, it must’ve felt good. But it was not natural. It was artificial bliss, and it took over you against your will.”

Alejandra stared into Bor’s eyes for a long while and then said in a flat voice: “Butterflies.”

Jo raised an eyebrow. “What?”

Alejandra turned; suddenly remembering her friend was there. “Cosette is afraid of butterflies.”

Bor let go of Alejandra’s hands and paced down towards the door. He looked out the tiny window, seeing only one person pacing up and down the hallway. She wasn’t looking into the classrooms, thankfully.

“Where the fuck are we going to get butterflies?” He rested his head against his palms and kicked at the air. He thought and thought and then punched the air.

Jo’s mouth suddenly twisted into a smile, a blissful, happy smile. The pleasant shiver that ran down her spine reminded her of a predicament. So she stopped smiling and instead said: “I know where we can find some.”

Alejandra looked at Jo for a while before silently shouting, “The labs!”

Jo nodded. The school’s biology lab always kept various types of insects in their repurposed aquariums. They had grasshoppers, praying mantises, and butterflies.

“Wait... you mean there are butterflies in here?” He saw the look in their eyes. “That is... incredibly lucky, as if somebody was writing us.” He smirked. “Where?”

“That’s the problem.” Jo said.

“Why?”

“The labs are at the other end of the school, inside another building, on the top floor. We would have to run through an infested school.” Alejandra slowly rose. Her leotard stretched over her body and she almost fell back on her knees. So good.

“How... infested is the school so far?” Bor said, dreading the answer.

Alejandra stared at them with a twinkle in her eye that could be mistaken for delight at a job well done. “Completely.”

* * *

Six floors.

Six floors and a courtyard of corrupted, haigure zombielings. Twice were they almost ambushed, but Bor still kept the knife at hand and now they were three people fighting. They could watch their backs more easily. But still, those were two times too close. The school only had a small fraction of their student body and just enough teachers, and yet they had been swarmed three times.

Jo felt something rub in a most pleasant way against her sex as she took the steps two and three at a time. She realized her underwear was growing tighter when she reached the fourth floor. Her time was running out, quickly. She had to get away from haigure converts fast, or her conversion would speed up and she would lose it.

On the fifth floor Bor had a stroke of genius. He told them to separate and go back down one floor and come back the other way. They would zigzag around, walk into rooms and moves things to confuse their pursuers. There weren’t any converts on the sixth floor so that worked out to their advantage. But they knew it wouldn’t last.

Quickly they locked themselves in the biology lab, turned off all the lights, and allowed themselves to catch their breath.

The butterflies were in a small glass aquarium of about two by two feet.

“How are we going to take them?” Bor said, looking about the lab for... for something.

“We could put them in a smaller container, like a glass jar.” Jo said and quickly started looking for an empty jar.

“And risk killing them?” Bor shook his head, his eyes downcast. He turned toward Alejandra, who was sweating profoundly. “Do you know if she’s scared of them if they’re dead?”

Alejandra looked up. She was panting, weak in the knees, and colour had drained from her as if someone had mixed her cinnamon skin with grey paint. “I... yes.” She closed her eyes. “Our beautiful queen fears butterflies even in death. Oh, the queen...” She trailed off.

Jo placed her hand on Alejandra’s latex-clad shoulder. A jolt of pleasure ran up her arm. She ignored it, faintly. “Alejandra... are you okay?” Stupid, you already know the answer.

Bor decided to give them some space and started looking for said jar, and some cloth to use as a lid to reduce the risk of asphyxiation to the butterflies. Can butterflies asphyxiate? He wondered idly.

“Jo, I am not okay, no. I am no longer part of haigure.” She moaned; her arms wrapped around her chest. She looked at the door and who lay beyond. “I need to return, Jo. I have to return. I need it, I want it. Haigure is wonderful and I have to go back or I’ll go crazy.”

Jo looked struck. “No, Alejandra! We need you—”

“No you don’t!” She snapped. “You needed me. You got what you needed and now you have to move on and save us all from the most delicious thing in the whole of creation.” She closed her eyes, a moan escaping through gritted teeth. “You need someone to help you escape... you won’t be able to escape with so many of my haigure brothers and sisters out there. You need a distraction.”

Bor had found a jar and was carefully moving butterflies from the aquarium to the jar with a tiny, green net.

“Alejandra...” Jo began, sorrow in her eyes.

“She’s right, Jo.” Bor began, the third butterfly in. “Look at her, she’s a mess. Her whole being is craving to return.” He looked up, staring right into Alejandra’s eyes. “They were more focused on you than me when we came here. If you distract them long enough we’ll be able to slip away and run.”

Alejandra nodded. “Run to the Yard of Bleeding Soles.” She gritted her teeth at a loud moan that rocked her whole body. “That’s where the queen is at, where she is massing her army.”

Jo was about to complain but at that exact moment the door was banged as if with a battering ram. It creaked and the wood cracked.

“Fuck!” Bor ripped a piece of cloth from some lab coat he found and wrapped it over the jar’s mouth. “We have to go, now!”

Jo’s heart started to hammer against her chest. So close to haigure yet so far. “We’ll go out through the other door—”

“No!” Alejandra gripped the table. “No... I will go out through the other end. Wait for them to swarm me and then you escape through this door.”

Without a word, they agreed.

Bor placed the jar of butterflies into his backpack, secured it to his back and chest and nodded readiness. Jo gave her friend a hug and then watched her slip to the other end of the lab, place her hand on the door knob, take a deep breath, and then slip outside.

The battering on the door stopped a second later. They heard Alejandra scream something before the horde of leotards started walking towards her end.

Ten heartbeats later they came out. The whole horde was two meters away from Alejandra, who had a look of pure happiness on her face.

“Go away! RUN! I will keep them...” Alejandra turned to face the stampede. “I will join them again... haigure.” She closed her eyes as hands and crotches pressed against her body.

“Haigure.” She whispered as she fell back into the glory of haigure.

Jo stared right into her friend’s eyes, realizing she had lost her. She turned her head, disgusted. They kept running, hurrying, away from the school, away from corruption, away from her friend and the person who gave them hope.

* * *

Dr. (Father) Paether Grigori lay with his back against the pillar with the basin of holy water. He was staring at the six people he had locked up. They were twisting and moaning, crying to be freed, constantly saying that word, pleading to Grigori. He was deaf to them all.

The water had stopped working some hours ago and Grigori was way past the point of caring. He just wanted it to be over. He just wanted to go back home and sleep. He was so tired. Grigori ran his hand over his chest; the leotard was growing faster down his chest. It had already claimed his left arm. He looked at the colourful thing without a feeling. Grigori was way past feeling anything now.

He looked around and started to speak. “Curse you, fucking cunt Arathmica. Fuck your temple, fuck your Old Godness and fuck Cosette for being such a fucking cunt.” He turned to the six people. “And fuck you sad lot of cunts for playing along, you bloody fucks. Specially you Frederic. I never liked you.”

Frederic just moaned and rubbed his member.

Grigori sighed heavily and reached for the bag by his feet. He didn’t remember putting the bag there, but then again, he didn’t even remember sitting by the pillar. Since Bor left his head had started playing tricks on him. Fucking Christ, I should’ve left with him.

No point in crying over spilt milk, Dr. (Father) Paether Grigori always said.

Grigori pulled his service knife out of the bag and inspected it curiously. He hadn’t touched it in a while, but it still looked sharp.

Then the prisoners started wailing and pleading for him to not do it. He ignored them again. The one thing about having a mind clouded with mythical, telepathic, bliss-itself cosmic terror shit was that it didn’t leave much space for the real world to get in.

Grigori smiled for the last time.

He moved the knife to his left wrist but hesitated at the last second. Fuck, can’t leave these poor sods rotting here. He gave his charges a long look and remembered that he had grown to like them, the poor cunts.

He fished the keys from the bag. When did he put them in there? It didn’t matter. He took the key ring and held it in his left hand. “Porfirio, you fat load of grease. You owe me lots of fish.” He threw the keys at Porfirio. They skittered loudly across the stone floor to the bottom of his cage. The fat man quickly wobbled after them.

Then steel bit Grigori’s skin. It burned and hurt at first, but the flow of blood felt soothing afterwards. He shifted the knife to his left hand and bit into his right wrist. Then relaxed and waited to bleed to death.

He looked at Porfirio coming out of his cage. Grigori lifted a bleeding arm and pointed at the scrawny figure of Mann. “You, Mann... you owe me...” Grigori didn’t remember what Mann owed him. “You owe me a fucking cunt, I guess. Heh.”

The world started to dim and Grigori realized that the forming leotard might... might what? He looked down at his leg and let the knife bite at the inside of his thighs. “Faster that way... and just in case hai... oh, what the fuck. I’ll die anyway. Haigure.”

The knife clattered on the stone floor and the prisoners were flowing out of their cages.

A blissful darkness took over Grigori just as he mumbled something.

“Grigori, you were a bloody cunt.”

He died with a smile.