Chapter #20 – Mind Fuck to the Extreme

“So, tell me about your problems.”

An old and wise-looking man sat on the edge of his chair, looking at the young girl in front of him. The young girl might have been beautiful, but years of neglect had taken their turn on her. Her long blue hair covered up her entire face, writhing and moving about as if alive. Indeed, rather than hair, they seemed to be tendrils or tentacles. It was as if an alien had landed on the girl’s head and taken over her mind.

Yet, none of this unnerved the physician. He was old, and old people generally had loads and loads of experience in dealing with stuff. Hell, the old man was married, for God’s sake, and married people go through virtually hell. Dealing with a troubled young girl – weird living hair or not – was nothing compared to dealing with his bitch of a wife. The man fondly put a hand on his copy of Dr. Phil’s Therapy For Idiots and smiled. Ah, the book that had allowed him to get up to this point in life. He had read the book over and over, up to the point where he could pull out any line from the book at any time.

Chapter 11, Dealing With Angsty Teens. Page 234, paragraph 2.

‘… When a child is in angst, the best thing to do is to get rid of the angst. This is done by reaching out to the child in a kindly manner. Attempt to connect with the teen – use pop culture references to make the teen feel assured. Do not use big words; such things tend to frighten the children. Talk about the things that children enjoy. Britney Spears, Pokemon, that new movie about beam swords… anything is game! Also, never forget to use physical contact…’

A devout follower of Dr. Phil, the physician reached out to the girl, and put a hand on her knee. He opened his mouth, about to bless this troubled young girl with the teachings of the Great Dr. Phil…

“Don’t touch me.” A small voice, but a steady one. A strong one.

“Eh?” The physician blinked, unsure if he had heard correctly.

“I said don’t touch me, Dr. William Ingleberry. I don’t want some child molester touching me.”

The physician’s eyes opened wide, but the man composed himself. “I… I don’t know what you’re talking about, young girl.”

“Oh, please.” The girl looked up, and the doctor felt a chill go down his spine as he stared into her eyes, which peaked out from the folds of her hair. They were eyes of death. The physician had seen that look only once before in his life, when he had looked into the eyes of a man who had dared to cross Oprah Winfrey and suffered the repercussions. “I know all about you, Mr. William Ingleberry. Don’t you remember what you did to that child a few years ago? How she screamed and begged and cried for help? But you wouldn’t listen, would you?”

“Y… you’re lying!” The therapist pushed his chair away and jumped to his feet. His copy of Dr. Phil’s Therapy For Idiots dropped to the floor, forgotten, and the man lunged towards the girl, grabbing her shoulders. “I never did such a thing!’

“LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES LIES!!!!!!!!!!!” screamed the girl, stunning the old man. The ferocity of her anger caused the man to drop to his knee, and he lifted his head to find the girl’s face inches away from his. “I know everything you did, Mr. Ingleberry. That name, it’s been tormenting you for so long, hasn’t it? Ever since you were a kid, that name’s been haunting you. Isn’t that why you went after that little girl? Because she reminded you of the little girl that tormented you while you were young?”

“No… no… no… no no no….” Distraught and in despair, the therapist held his head in pain, and wept.

“Now, Mr. Ingleberry, let’s take you to meet the little girl, shall we?” From the girl’s body a great amount of dark tendrils came out, and the girl grabbed the man by the throat. There was a slight muffled scream, and then silence, as the darkness enveloped the two of them.

A minute later, and the darkness receded. The psychiatrist lay on the floor, mangled and with a horrible expression on his face. The girl stood up, and walked towards the door, noticing the paper holder on the desk near the door. Pausing, she picked the object up and looked at the words written on it. “Hmm… Dr. Stanley Roberts. I got the wrong name. Looks like he was innocent, after all. Ah, well.”

The girl tossed the paper holder away and walked away.

— Someplace, Sometime —

“And all I remember is waking up on my bed.” Ismaru scratched his head and sighed. “Yo, Fortenra, you remember anything?”

“Nah, dude.” Fortenra shook his head, confused. “All I remember is pain… pain… and lots of pain. Then some extremely blissful medicine that made me forget all the pain. Everything felt so good after that… I don’t even want to remember.”

“Oh, but I do!” Aine raised her hand in the air with gusto and enjoyment. “You guys ended up ki-”

“Killing a bunch of bastards who sprayed you with some extremely painful hallucinogenic gas,” cut in Triskellion, covering Aine’s mouth to prevent her from talking any further. The young accountant of the Sniperville Orphanage wondered what in the world could have turned the timid Aine into, well, this. To think that a simple kiss between two young men could trigger such a reaction in a girl… then again, he knew Vel, and Veliofi wasn’t exactly sane of mind herself. “It made you see some bad stuff, so we got you cleaned.”

A lie, in reality. The trauma that the two young men had suffered had forced them to lie comatose in the bed for two days before Triskellion had finally taken them to a therapist to have their memories suppressed. Even then, the procedure had taken a few hours.

“So anyways, WOAH!” Ismaru jumped to the side to avoid bumping into a young girl who had been walking forward. The young ninja glared at the girl. “What the fuck, bitch?”

“Hmmm?” was all the girl uttered before she stared into Ismaru’s eyes. The young shinobi gasped at the look in her eyes and stepped back in shock. The girl smiled. “Tell me, young Ismaru, what did it feel like to be in his warm embrace? To feel your lips lock onto his-”

“AAAAAAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

“AAAAAAAAAAAGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!”

The simultaneous screams of Ismaru and Fortenra caused Toastie to cover her ears in pain, and Aine waited with bated breath to see if they’d kiss again. Sadly, they did not. Instead, the two of them broke down and fell to their knees, sobbing. With a smirk, the girl walked away, leaving a trail of darkness in her wake.

— Someplace, Sometime —

“Who was that girl?” asked Toastie, while watching her two friends being injected with a variety of drugs. PCP, pain-killers, aspirin, sleeping pills, heroin and on and on… it would be a miracle if the two of them emerged from the procedure with their sanity intact, especially if they took another blow like that again.

“Eh?” Triskellion looked up from the magazine he was reading. “That was Sanity. Sanity Eater. We call her Sanity of the Mindfuck. She’s in the Sniperville Orphanage. I’m surprised that Ismaru and Fortenra didn’t recognize her. For that matter, I’m pretty sure she goes to some of the same classes as you guys.”

“Huh. Never knew that. You’d think that I’d have noticed something like that over the years.”

“… Totally.” Triskellion then resumed his reading, ignoring Toastie’s musing.

— Someplace, Sometime —

“So, I somehow feel like I’ve forgotten TWO things, you know?” wondered Ismaru as he walked through the halls of Sniperville Academy.

“Tell me about it. I’m feeling deja vu. Or whatever the fuck they call it. Hell, I’m getting one now. Walking in a hallway… I think I might meet up with someone.” Fortenra narrowed his eyes in annoyance. “I hate these feelings. Moreover, all this medication is making me woozy. I can’t even see properly.”

“We’re late for class, you know?” remarked Toastie, looking at her watch. “Unless we run, we’re going to miss the first few minutes of class.”

“Ah, dilemma, dilemma. What to do?” Fortenra held a hand to his cheek and rubbed it, thinking. “To miss class or not to miss class… which is the obvious thing to do? It is a question of utmost importance. Once that requires ages and ages of thought… and I have come to this conclusion. I don’t give a fuck if we miss the first few minutes.”

“I am all for Fortenra’s decision, captain!” remarked Toastie, saluting.

“I as well!” followed Ismaru, saluting as well.

“… Aren’t we going to, MEEP!” Aine meeped as the rest of her friends glared at her. Though the girl upheld ideals of honor and truth, even she could not resist the stares of her friends and crumbled under peer pressure. Ah, true friendship? Or simple coercion? Or cruel blackmail? “I mean, I’m fine with missing a bit of class, too…”

“So, walk it is!” exclaimed Ismaru, and walk they did.

— Someplace, Sometime —

And miss class they did. Though Fortenra doubted that the teacher would have objected.

It wasn’t because Sniperville Academy had loose rules regarding attendance. It wasn’t because the teacher didn’t care who came to class or not. It wasn’t because the teacher had won a lottery and had left school to enjoy his winnings. It was because the entire class was dead.

“… You again?” A simple question, low in key and tone.

“Um… have we met before?” asked Fortenra, confused. He was sure that he’d never met this girl before, with her swirling hair and an aura so dark and evil that even the Devil himself would shake like a bitch in front of her. Yet, there was this nagging feeling at the back of his head…

“Um… have we met you before?” asked Ismaru, confused. He didn’t know why, but his natural instincts were telling him to be polite. It was warning him that, if he even dared to piss her off, he’d suffer repercussions. Hell, his body was telling him that this woman was even more dangerous than Shoy or Q, and that was something.

“Oh, have you forgotten? When I-”

“HI THERE SANITY I’M TOASTIE AND THIS IS FORTENRA AND ISMARU AND AINE AND I’M SORRY BUT WE HAVE SOMEWHERE WE NEED TO BE GOING WHICH IS JUST AS GOOD SEEING AS YOU KILLED OFF THE CLASS AND NICE TO MEET YOU BYE!” screamed Toastie, before grabbing Fortenra and Ismaru by their collars and dragging them away. “LET’S GO AINE!”

“…” Aine stared at Sanity for a few seconds, and the other girl at her. Then, nodding her head once in greeting, she flounced after Toastie. “Wait up, Toastie!”

“…” Sanity looked at the receding figure of Aine, and stared at her hands for a few seconds. “… She’s immune?”

— Someplace, Sometime —

“Um… why did we run away again, Toastie?” asked a timid Aine, watching Fortenra and Ismaru attempting to gasp for breath as their collar dug into their necks.

“I am not going to deal with a bunch of crying wimps again, Aine! I’m not, I tell you, I’m not!”

“Not what?” came a familiar voice.

With a yelp of shock, Toastie stopped in her tracks – or at least tried to. Instead of coming to a screeching halt, she slid across the hallway, tripped on a fallen trash can and fell down with a crash, letting go of Ismaru and Fortenra as she did. The two pitiful males, still attempting to breathe, were sent flying into the air, smashing into the nearby lockers upon their descent.

“Wow, Toastie, you need to work on that,” remarked Peanut, while Insomnesiac stood stoically behind her.

FWOOSH!

Toastie revived in a sea of flames with gusto, only to cower when she noticed Peanut standing near her. “Um… hi, Peanut.”

“So, Toastie, what’s the rush? Do you really hate your cousin this much?” With an expression of feigned pain, Peanut put a hand to her chest. “It hurts my heart, Toastie, to realize that I am despised by my own kin. I thought there was a bond of trust, a pact of blood between us! Was I mistaken, Toastie?” Peanut leaned in closer, until her face was inches apart from Toastie’s. “WAS I MISTAKEN?”

“N-NO, MA’AM! I HAVE NOTHING BUT LOVE AND HONOR AND RESPECT FOR YOU!” yelped Toastie in desperation, the fear apparent in her eyes. “INDEED, THERE IS NO ONE THAT I LOOK UP TO MORE THAN YOU SO PLEASE DON’T GET SO CLOSE TO ME!”

“Anyways, I saw you were with Sanity.”

“… Uh-huh…” whispered Toastie, not yet seeing the point that Peanut was trying to make.

“I want you to help her.”

“H… help?”

“Yes, help. The girl’s suffering from some problems, and I’d like to help her find a true smile. Everyone needs to be able to smile with purity, don’t you think?” As if you illustrate her point, Peanut smiled brightly. It was a pure and beautiful smile, one of childlike innocence and utter bliss. It also drove a spike of terror into Toastie’s heart.

“Eh, why do we have to do that kind of crap?” Ismaru, who had managed to recover, leaned against a wall, his arms crossed. “Do a bunch of work for some girl we don’t even know.”

“I’m agree with what he said,” remarked Fortenra, dusting himself off.

“Toa~stie?” called Peanut in a sing-along voice, her eyes sparkling with innocence.

“… Ismaru, Fortenra, we’re helping Sanity.”

“Fuck no!”

“Yeah, I don’t think I want to.”

Peanut’s smile grew wider, which Toastie did not fail to notice. Grabbing the two of them by the throat, Toastie slammed the two of them against a wall and began to apply heat to her arms and hands. Soon, it was like a sauna for Ismaru and Fortenra, except not the good type that allows one to rest, but rather the bad type. The one that burns a man to death. Slowly, but surely, Toastie repeated herself.

“WE. ARE. HELPING. THE. GIRL.”

“… Yes, ma’am.” The answer was synchronized. Truly, fear was a great motivator.

— Someplace, Sometime —

As she watched Toastie drag the emasculated two young men with her while Aine followed, Peanut sighed and popped open a bag of peanuts. With concern in here eyes, she looked back at Insomnesiac, who had not moved from the spot. “You think they’ll be alright, Insom?”

“…” Insomnesiac stood still and did not move.

“Yeah, I know what you mean. They’re not kids anymore, and they should be able to do this stuff by themselves. But still, you know?”

“…” Insomnesiac still failed to move.

“What, are you miffed about them leaving you in the graveyard?” Peanut giggled, and grabbed Insomnesiac’s sleeve. “Come on, Insom, we’re going to be late for class.”

Insomnesiac nodded, and the duo left the hallway, leaving the area empty and devoid of life… except for the two friends sitting next to the lockers, a lone student reading a book in the corner, a group of students discussing something and a teacher – or at least the top half of a teacher – lying down on the floor.

It was going to be a long, long day, and all of them were out of bubble gum.