Page 90 of Psyop Kings

Footsteps can be heard once again and a flash of panic gleams in Caius’s dark eyes. He forcefully shoves me back into the cabinet, uncaring that he’s bruising my arm and knockingmy head against the wood. Before he closes the door, he points a finger in my face.

“Do not fuck this up for me,” he warns, malevolence dripping from his words. “Not only will you ruin everything, you’re going to get yourself killed.”

With those words, he quietly closes the door, rights the chair, snaps the laptop closed, and walks across the room. The leather of his chair makes a sound just as a person enters the room.

“Caius Crowne,” Michael says, voice calmer than before. “Always a pleasure.”

“Likewise,” Caius agrees with zero emotion. “How are the kids?”

Kids?

This disgusting man has children?

“Joey joined the Marines last month. He’s gone for who knows how long,” Michael tells him. “Heidi is still away at MIT.”

“They’re doing okay since Margie died?”

“The kids stay distracted. It’s good for them. As for me.” Michael sighs. “A man gets lonely. I thought I’d fixed that problem, but alas, I have not.”

While they have their small talk, I replay everything I learned about Caius. He’s into some sort of mind control. I mean, I knew that because they attempted it on me, but I didn’t understand the level at which this family plays.

Why couldn’t they get inside my head?

Am I considered a failure too?

Before I can figure anything out, I hear Solomon announce his arrival.

“Boys, I have a sweet little appetizer. Who’s hungry?”

I slowly move, trying to catch a peek through the crack of the doors without accidentally knocking them open. Through the thin slit, I catch movement. Legs. Solomon’s and a bare, much thinner set.

I’m going to be sick.

I hear a smack and then the girl crumples to the ground.

Is he going to kill her?

“Something to make her behave?” Solomon asks.

“Not on me,” Caius says in an icy tone. “Do I need to get something?”

Michael chimes in, “The bitch doesn’t deserve to numb the pain. I want to watch her suffer.”

“Ask and you shall receive,” Solomon hisses as he unbuckles his belt. “You want to do the honors?”

“I want to watch,” Michael growls.

“Need lube?” Solomon asks.

“No. I’m not coming on my own hand and I’m not letting her clean it up either. I’ll hold out until my new girl is ready.”

“Suit yourself.”

Solomon begins whaling on her with the belt. The poor girl shrieks and sobs, but no one comes to her aid. I want to crawl out of this cabinet, but fear has me immobilized. I’m not her savior. I’m a captive too. If I out myself, I’m not sure I won’t meet the same fate. Disgust roils in my gut. I hate that I can’t force myself to try to stop it. I’m a coward.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I hold back my own sobs. The girl continues to yelp and cry out, though she seems like she’s slurring now.

“Looks like Ava already sauced her up,” Solomon states, breathing heavily. “My apologies. I didn’t know.”

---