The Body Electric

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A sociopath grants an interview before her execution.
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Mudak
Mudak
58 Followers

Alison took a deep breath as she passed through the first of the two sets of steel doors, reminding herself that she would be safe.

The guard must have noticed her anxiety, because he smiled broadly. "Is this your first time interviewing a prisoner?"

Alison shook her head. "No. That's the thing about it. I don't know why, but I'm... I guess it's just that, well, you know... I mean, I've interviewed murderers and child molesters and real monsters out there. But for some reason, this..."

He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder as they passed through the second set of doors and started walking down the dimly lit hallway for the cell they sought. "Personally, I think a lot of the stories out there are... Let's just say that they may have exaggerated a thing or two."

The guard brought a chair around the corner. Alison sat down, peering through the iron bars behind which the condemned criminal had been living for the past ten years.

She smiled up at the guard, who backed away a few feet.

Reaching into her jacket pocket, Alison retrieved her pocket recorder and took another deep breath. She leaned in closer to the bars, peered into the dimly lit cell, and called, more tentatively than she would have liked, "Um... Margaret? Margaret Stoner?"

The prisoner stepped out from the shadows and moved quickly towards the bars. Alison jumped back for a moment.

Ten years in prison haven't been kind to this woman since she was caught, Alison thought. She looks nothing like the pictures from her trial.

Margaret looked at the reporter and scowled. She started to place her hands over her ears but decided against it.

"I thought I've done pretty well for myself here," the prisoner spoke.

Did she just hear... Alison started to think.

"Your thoughts?" Margaret asked, tauntingly. "Well, my dear, wouldn't you go a little bit mad if you could hear what other people were thinking?"

Alison froze in her chair. She knew about Margaret's crimes. They were the lurid stuff of tabloid newspapers for years from when the press picked up on the crimes, until well after she was caught, tried, and convicted. But somehow, in all of that time, no one ever really questioned the 'how' or 'why' of it all.

That was Alison's job. Her editor had been fortunate enough to procure Margaret's final interview before her planned execution. Considering Alison's experience, she was the perfect candidate.

Alison cleared her throat and heard Margaret scoff.

"You know, Alison. You don't need to put on airs around me. I'll see through it anyway. I don't even think I'm anywhere near as dangerous as..." Margaret paused, looking for information about other criminals Alison had performed. "... Louis Stanley Peebles. Now he was a monster."

Alison first felt shocked that the prisoner knew any of her prior interviews, especially one from that long ago. She let out a gasp before reminding herself that Margaret had the ability to read minds. Still, her voice was tremulous when she responded. "Oh, sorry."

There was a brief silence. The guard stepped closer to Alison and said, "She may not really show it, but she *is* thankful that finally someone wants to know her story."

Margaret waved her hand and the guard backed off again.

Alison reached for her recorder and held it out for Margaret to see. Margaret nodded and Alison turned it on.

"All right, Miss Stoner --"

"Please, call me Margaret."

"Sorry. Margaret. As we get underway with this interview, is there something you'd like to say before I start asking you questions?"

Margaret gazed at the reporter sitting opposite her. Seeing that this reporter truly wouldn't judge her, she decided to respond directly. "I suppose you'd like to know how I feel about my crimes. Maybe you think I'm just someone whose passions got a little bit out of control or something.

"Well, let me make one thing perfectly clear: I don't regret a moment of it, and nothing got so bad that I couldn't retain control. Do you understand? It was my overconfidence that led to my capture. And even then, I probably could've gotten out of it. Were it not for the intervention of David Sherman, I wouldn't be here today. I'd be free and eluding capture still to this day."

Alison nodded knowingly. "What did he--?"

"He was the only person I ever trusted throughout this whole process."

"Tell me more."

Margaret sighed. "You know, Alison, for all of these powers I have, the one thing I truly wish I could do is go back in time and change the past."

Alison cocked her head to one side and thought, but I thought she just said...

Margaret cleared her throat. "You forget I can hear your thoughts. Yes, I just said I don't regret a moment of it. But if I could change the past, I would go back to where it really all started and tell my younger self not to make that phone call."

"Which phone call was that?"

"I was in college. Like most college kids, I was broke. There was this ad in the paper, looking for paid testers for a new video game. Now, this was back in the day when most video games needed a purse full of quarters and people stood behind you as you played ... whatever. Atari, Nintendo and Sega had their own niche in home game systems, but the action was definitely in the arcade.

"Now, I wasn't a big fan of all of the shoot-em-up games, but I loved some of the other games they had at that time. So I called the number in that ad and spoke with David. He said he had a game -- it was a combination maze-navigation and puzzle solving game -- that he said offered an experience unlike any other. He called it 'The Body Electric' and I remember thinking that it was a kind of a silly name, but not bad for a video all the same.

"I told him what kinds of games I liked and he said this would be right up my alley. So I arranged for a date and time to go out to his office and try out his game."

Alison leaned forward as Margaret spoke. At the trial, everyone learned about this experiment that David was a part of, but this was the first she'd ever heard of it being a video game.

"David's office was a few blocks off campus. I remember the walk to the office. It was raining so hard, my umbrella was basically useless. I was drenched by the time I got to his office.

"When he first saw me, he offered me a towel and I quickly dried off my face and hands. He actually looked away as I did that. That's when I realized I could trust him.

"I looked around the office. I saw two game machines in one corner, and there were people playing both of them. Three people were sitting in the waiting room: one was thumbing through a magazine, and other two were filling out some paperwork on a clipboard. It was a relief to know I wasn't going to be alone.

"As I sat down myself, David said that he'd let me know when I could go up and try my hand at the game. He said it would be self-explanatory how to play the game, so I should just make myself comfortable until it was my time.

"I grabbed a magazine and started looking alternately at the magazine itself and the other people in the room. David was standing near one of the men playing the game.

"I heard some fairly ominous music coming from the video games. The guy playing the game where David stood, he slapped the machine and yelled, 'fuck!' David guided the guy to a seat and handed him a clipboard. The guy started to fill out the papers he had been handed.

"David then came to the guy in the waiting room. You know, the one reading a magazine, and guided him to the now-open machine. I figured this meant I'd be next. I really couldn't focus on my magazine, between the knowledge that I'd be playing next and the sound of the rain battering the windows outside the office.

"It wasn't long before David came up to me and asked me if I had any questions. I asked him if I was the only woman to test his game, and he laughed, saying that the men did outnumber the women testing the game, but there have been a few, so I shouldn't worry...

"I took my place at the machine and looked at the controls: it had a track ball and two buttons on either side of the ball. I always loved games that let you play either left-handed or right-handed, and this fit the bill. I watched some of the animations on the game before I started. The graphics were pretty good -- sure, they're nothing, I'm guessing, compared to what you see today, but it looked like a lot of fun.

"So I hit the start button and began to play. Using the track ball, I moved my character through this maze. Occasionally, I'd come up to a point where I had to stop, and solve a puzzle. The solution always involved some combination of the buttons and the speed and direction you'd roll the trackball.

"The first puzzle I solved... Let's just say that's when the real fun began in the game."

Alison cocked her head to one side. "What do you mean?"

"With my hand resting loosely on the track ball, I felt ... I guess the right word would be a surge. A surge of power, of pleasure, of pure sensation. It went straight into my hand.

"I looked over at David, who simply smiled and said, 'Keep playing. It gets better.'

"So I went back into my game. The surge got stronger and stronger with each puzzle I solved. I would've been too ashamed at the time to tell David this, but I was starting to get physically aroused."

In the brief silence that fell over the corridor in the prison, Alison looked at Margaret, wondering if she was pausing for dramatic effect or if there was some other reason for the sudden silence.

Margaret took a deep breath. "Then it happened. I solved a really tough puzzle in the game, and I felt another surge. At the exact same time, I heard a loud clap of thunder right outside of the office. Or at least, I think that's what I heard.

"The next thing I knew, I was lying in a hospital bed. They told me that a bolt of lightning struck a transponder or something like that, and the energy blew out the video game and all of the power went straight into my hand. That surge put me in a coma for a month."

Alison gasped.

"I have vague memories of sounds and lights while I was out, but nothing so concrete or memorable that it would be worth anything. Other than the sound of a man's voice, one that kept repeating 'I'm so sorry...'

"But then I came to, and I was bombarded by sound. I remember crying out and covering my ears, but nothing I did would silence the noise I was hearing.

"Several people moved closer to me. The sounds of their voices was deafening. I couldn't hear any of them distinctly, but it was the strangest thing. I mean, I didn't see anyone's lips moving.

"I remember asking them to please be quiet and someone -- a nurse -- looked at me and said they weren't talking.

"It took me a few minutes, but that's I realized I could hear their thoughts. Someone standing near the nurse thought that I was delusional. And I mustered up all of the strength I could in my arms to put my hands on my hips to say 'I'm not delusional.'

"After they were done staring at me and shining lights into my eyes and all, I asked them to please leave me alone and they agreed. I'm sure I was crying, otherwise I don't think they'd have agreed to so quickly.

"David was the only person outside of the hospital staff, who came to visit me after I had woken up. He said he would sit by my bed every day for at least two hours while I was unconscious.

"I felt horrible when I told him I appreciated his attention, but I really didn't want him hanging around my hospital room. I just couldn't bear to keep hearing him apologize over and over in his head.

"I left the hospital about two weeks after I woke up. I tried not to let on to anyone who hadn't already figured, it out that I had somehow gained the ability to hear people's thoughts. I really just wanted some peace and quiet, even though I had no idea where to go to get that.

"Everyone was expecting me back at school, so I went back to my dorm. Everyone in the building threw this huge party to welcome me back."

"How did you feel about that?" inquired Alison.

"Well, I, um, I appreciated the sentiment. Unfortunately, the moment they ushered me into the community room, I was bombarded by the thoughts of easily fifty or a hundred people. I just wanted to run.

"As you can probably guess, I didn't want to seem like I didn't appreciate everything. I shut my eyes tight and concentrated as hard as I could, and was able to ... well, I guess blocking everything out wasn't quite what I managed to do, but I was able to silence the noises. It ... it wasn't perfect but it at least made the party tolerable.

"And that's when it happened."

"When what happened?"

"I was talking with my roommate, Becky, and her boyfriend, Brock. What kind of a fucking name is Brock anyway? I always thought it said a lot -- and not in a good way -- about Becky that she even met him in the first place.

"Well, here was Becky talking about how relieved she was to learn that I'd be all right and all of that bullshit. Brock was just stupidly nodding his head along with what she said, and blah blah blah. At that point, all I heard was Brock's thoughts."

"I take it you didn't like what you heard?"

"Would you? He was upset that I had come back, since my absence afforded them the chance to have sex whenever they wanted, without fear of bothering or being interrupted by anyone else."

"No..."

"Yes! The man is a fucking pig. I tried to look into Becky's thoughts and she was thinking more or less the same thing.

"And that's when I lost it. I looked them both squarely in the eye and said, 'Both of you, you disgust me. If you can't fuck in our room anymore, why don't you two just rip each other's clothes off and fuck right here, right now?'

"I turned around and figured I'd go see if I could find someone who really and honestly was glad I was back, when I heard a commotion. I wheeled back around and saw both of them half-naked, fumbling awkwardly with each other's clothes.

"By the time a small crowd had gathered around Becky and Brock, they were both naked and he was lying on his back, Becky bouncing up and down on him. Becky was yelping and moaning, and Brock was lifting and lowering his hips, playing with her breasts, and just generally being the fucker -- literally -- that he is."

"What did you think about this?"

"Well, the first thing I thought of, was that I couldn't have made them do that. I mean, sure, they were doing exactly what I had just told them to do, but that had to be a coincidence, right?"

"Right, I guess."

"That's when I thought I heard other people thinking about this strange turn of events. They heard what I'd said. Have you ever had a large group people look at you and back away and try not to look conspicuous about it?"

"Ummm...."

"Well, it's not a comfortable feeling. Add into that you can hear them thinking these accusatory thoughts. So I ran. I just took off. I know I was crying, and I honestly don't know how far it was before I finally decided to stop. But when I stopped, I was in a strange place, not knowing where I was or, for that matter, the right way back.

"I was cursing myself for not having grabbed something to eat before I left, because now I was hungry, thirsty, and tired. And then when I really got to thinking about it, whatever I did to my roommate and her boyfriend, it was... well, I wanted to see if that was a fluke or not.

"I walked a little bit further and found a small grocery store. The guy behind the counter was about my age, maybe a little bit younger, and he was kind of cute, in a goofy kind of way. He smiled at me and asked, 'Can I help you?'

"I nodded my head yes. I told him I was lost, and kind of hungry. As I was talking, I heard him thinking about my breasts. If I hadn't been so tired and hungry, I probably would've told him off or something, but he wasn't being disrespectful and, well, I was starting to have thoughts of my own about -- well, if not him, then someone who could satisfy me.

"He asked me how much money I had, and I sheepishly said that I didn't have any.

"When he started to say he couldn't help me, I figured this was the perfect time to see if I could control him. He was still thinking about my tits, and as best as I could tell, he at least didn't want them to bounce out the door.

"So I sidled on up closer to the counter and looked him in the eye. 'I don't need any money,' I told him. 'You'll give me whatever I want...'

"Unlike with my roommate, I paid attention to the clerk. His thoughts shifted from my tits to getting me some food. It took a couple of seconds for his mouth to catch up with his thoughts, but finally he said, 'You know, you seem like a good enough person. Why don't I get you something to eat and drink. You'll probably feel better too. What would you like?'

"I wasn't about to push my luck with this guy, so I told him a bottle of water and a small sandwich would be plenty.

"I'll never forget his smile as he said, 'Sold!' in his best auctioneer's voice.

"The mayonnaise was kind of bland and the bread was stale, but I ate that sandwich in almost no time. He stood there, watching me as I stuffed my face. I don't think he moved at all.

"I took a big swig of water to wash it all down and I looked up at him. 'What's your name?'"

Alison chimed in. "Let me guess. This was Vince."

"You did your homework. That's right. So we had our formal introductions, and, by now I was feeling a little bit bold so I asked him if a woman's boobs are always the first things he notices when he meets someone new.

"He was so cute the way he tried to deny it. Well, not deny, but he didn't think he was that obvious.

"That's when my hormones really started to kick in. Flush with the power of both my control and having gotten something to eat, and then Vince was ... well, he was Vince. I felt a certain vibration that I hadn't really felt in ages. Since long before the accident but I confess that I felt a little bit of electricity like I did from that track ball. I put on a kind of a sultry tone. 'Why don't you just come out and say it? Tell me what you think of my tits.'

"Vince was getting more and more flustered. Not only were his spoken words a complete jumble, but so, too, were his thoughts. I looked him in the eye again and told him to calm down and just be honest.

"He said they're beautiful. I giggled like a schoolgirl before I asked him if there was something he might have, um, wanted.

"He said he'd like to feel me up. I looked at his eyes and they were wide but somewhat glazed. Was he completely in my control? I figured I needed to check.

"I asked him if he could lock up the store, which was completely empty save for the two of us.

"Without saying a word, he stepped out from behind the counter, walked to the front door, and locked it.

"'So you want to feel me up. Is that all you want from me?' I asked him.

"'I'd also like to have sex with you,' he said.

"You have no idea how good that made me feel. I didn't make him say that. I just made him be honest and forthcoming. I decided to play a little bit coy when I told him to take off all of his clothes, and 'we'll see about what happens next.'

"Well, he quickly got out of his dirty jeans and flannel shirt. He was a lot more muscular than I expected.

"So I was feeling hornier than I had in ages and, well, he was enthusiastic, so... I'm assuming that I don't need to go into the details, do I?"

"Whatever makes you comfortable. When we edit this interview for the final story, we'll decide what stays in and what comes out."

"Oh. Well, let's just say that the electricity that I'd been feeling in my body since I first started playing that video game got a bit more intense. And I'm pretty sure that they needed to replace most of the bread in the bakery section when we were done there." Margaret laughed. Page 2 of 3"Now, I don't think I could've been called a prude before the incident with the video game, but at the same time, I hadn't had that many opportunities to show how much of a non-prude I really was, if you know what I mean."

Mudak
Mudak
58 Followers