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Trading Hells
56: Amateur hour

56: Amateur hour

I can’t say that the night was particularly restful, but at least the worst of the rage was back under control. The next morning I was late getting my coffee and something to eat, and I was not surprised that the others were already up and about.

Not that I was eager for company at the moment. On the contrary, I was glad that I had my peace. It was accordingly bothersome when Darren sat opposite of me at the table. But still, I did my best to ignore him. The whole five seconds until he began talking.

“Veronica, I think we should talk.”

Wonderful. Just wonderful. I was so not in the mood for a talk.

“Sorry, Darren, but I don’t think now is the best time for it.”

He gave me a sad smile.

“I know. Believe me, I know. But it is necessary anyway.”

I growled for a bit while eating the high-calory mash I had made for my breakfast, to compensate for eating way not enough the day before. Unfortunately, it did not deter him in any way.

“You know I am a psionic. And one of my abilities is that I am an empath. So yes, I really know that it is not a good time. But I fear it won’t be a good time anytime soon. Unless you let us help you that is.”

An empath. That explained much. And ouch.

“I… that is a very double-edged gift I would think. And I am sorry for ruining the mood. But I am still not in the frame of mind to have a conversation. At the moment I just want to be left alone.”

In turn, he folded his hands except for his pointer fingers, which he placed on his lips for a moment.

“Yes, I get that. But I don’t accept that. You need help! And you need it now. And unfortunately, we don’t know enough about NYC to know any professional psycho… Woah!”

I felt my rage spike again, and apparently, he felt it too.

“I would strongly prefer if you did not bring up any shrinks in my presence, ok?”

He sighed and shook his head.

“I can’t say that I understand it, but ok, it’s your decision, but you need help just the same.”

I closed my eyes and took a couple of deep breaths before I answered him.

“I will get it under control. It is not the first time. It just flared up for some strange reason.”

“Believe me, we want to help you. And maybe it is because you are under so much stress.”

I had a dry chuckle.

“This amount of stress is… well to be honest it is even less than what I was used to. Yes, the actual physical threats are… new, but compared to what I had to live under in Seattle this is a walk in the park.”

He looked at me for several seconds and then nodded.

“That may be it. I am in no way qualified, but I met a couple of people who began spiraling the moment the pressure began to let up. And if the situation now is like a walk in the park for you, then I feel for you. Your life has had to be hell.”

I tilted my head and squinted my eyes.

“What… what do you mean spiraling. That sounds not good.”

“You are right, it is not good, but if we watch it, it should not be too bad. Essentially all the shit going on in your life made you ignore all the pain, rage, and whatever you could not cope with at the time. Now you have breathing room and all the feelings come knocking.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

He shrugged his shoulders.

“As I understand it, it is a bit of a danger that you might get into a vicious circle and spiral out of control. But as I said, if we watch out for it, it should be manageable. Especially as I am a psionic. If it is necessary, I can give you a boost again.”

Perfect. Just what I did need just now. Old problems visiting for old times.

“That… shit, that is bad. Promise me to look out for me going out of control.”

“Well, yes, of course. You might be sliding back into depression for a bit, but I will get you out again.”

I had to shake my head.

“The depression is… well it is not good, but it is not the problem. As long as I manage from becoming suicidal I will survive it. No, the rage is the problem. If that gets out of control…”

He lifted both his hands.

“Hey, if that spins out of control you let off some steam. That will be good for you. Maybe we let some of the junk in a room and you can trash it if that happens.”

It took me a few moments to really understand what he was talking about. Then a wave of anger flushed me.

“You think it is about me having a tantrum? Fuck, Darren, if I lose control of my rage I might start World War 4!”

When I said, or more like screamed that to him, his mouth fell open.

“What… are you mad?”

I took another group of deep breaths, and mentally counted to ten, and then to 100, while he looked at me as if I had lost my mind.

Finally, with a barely suppressed growl, I managed to answer him, and I was proud of how calm I managed it.

“Darren, do you remember when I told you why we can’t take out the VI? That it has access to all kinds of WMDs? That is my access! I could at any given time destroy most of the surface of the earth. The only thing preventing me from that is that I have my rage under control. For now, that is.”

If the topic had been anything else, his shocked face would have been highly amusing. But how things were then, I could not savor it as it deserved.

After roughly a minute of stammering, he finally brought a full sentence together.

“You would really use WMDs? You?!? My god, Veronica, I’ve seen how forgiving you are. Shit, the other ladies play with Frankel several times a day each. You on the other hand have barely touched him.

The other slavers, while we had them here were subject to many play-sessions from the girls. Not that I don’t understand them or are judging them, but you nearly left them alone.

And now you want to tell me that you are so vindictive that you think you will use WMDs?”

Another sigh from me.

“Compared to the assholes I am angry at, Frankel is strictly an amateur. And his baby-assholes are almost cute in their attempts to be mean. Yes, they are rapists. But they relied on the physical act of rape to do damage.

Only Frankel even attempted to play mind games.

And honestly, from a purely physical perspective, Rape is not the worst that can be done.

Being worked over by some thugs that steal your credled can do much worse physical damage.

No, the thing that makes Rape so horrible is the mental aspect. The rapist takes something very personal from you, and you are helpless to stop him. He has the power over you and rubs it in. He uses that power to damage your pride, your sense of security, and revels in your helpless anger.

And usually, there is nothing you can do as a victim.

But from the very moment we sat down in the Van I was working on my counterstrike. I knew from the very beginning that Frankel might have the momentary upper hand, but that I would be the victor.

I never gave him what he wanted. My despair, my silent, helpless rage.

That is the reason he only had one session with Jacky. She broke almost immediately and had become boring for him. Natalie and Christine gave him more fun, but once he broke them, he mostly ignored them.

So all he did to me was physical. Yes, the other slavers mostly saw us as a convenient collection of holes to satisfy their urges in, while a couple of them got their fun by hurting us.

Guess which ones were the ones I made sure were sold to the bisexual SM club? Most of the rest are on their way to an asteroid mine. And all of them with the ability to get sexual relief blocked at that.

And Frankel, I am still working on the plan for the perfect retribution. He will get his due rewards in time.

But over the three days, he never even approached gaining the mental upper hand over me. I was the one of us winning our game.

But for the other assholes that are essentially responsible for my whole shitty life, why do you think I even have all the backdoors and launch codes for all the WMDs? Sure, the majority of the better Jacks could get them. But they don’t invest the energy and work to get them.

No, I wanted to use them. I wanted to destroy every single one of them. Destroy everything they love.

I want to submerge them one by one in acid, watching them slowly being dissolved.

They make me want to believe in God, just so that I can believe they will burn in hell for all eternity.

They make me wish I had the ability to digitize their minds, just so that I could torture them for thousands of years.

But I fought down the urge to let the world burn. I managed to get myself back from the abyss before it swallowed me, and the world with me.

But now you tell me that the rage is coming back. And that is fucking dangerous.

So no, compared to these assholes, Frankel was just an amateur working on a tough audience with me. He will get his comeuppance, but that will be cold, rational revenge instead of a wild tantrum that will be over way too quick for him.”