The Erotic Mind-Control Story Archive

Xerxes was standing at the banged-up old printer he kept in his office.

“I’ve taken the photocard out of my camera,” he explained. His videocamera was still recording. “And I’ve plugged it into the photocard-slot on my printer. All those pictures I took of the projected-faces Tara saw in the plaza that day are on there— but it will help me to have the pictures printed out; I’ll keep them next to the projector— and that way if any face turns up again— I’ll hopefully recognize it. There’s no chance I captured the killer’s face— but some of those other persons of interest were there, and I might have gotten some of their faces. And some of them might turn up again— just in case there’s any way that could help me later— just in case any of them come up again later— and you know me, Kalchek. I like having tangible records to work with when I can.”

The printer whirred a few more times— spitting out the last few photos. Xerxes made a photostack, turned the printer off, walked back to the projector and set the photostack down beside it.

He put the photocard back in his camera, and put his camera back on his desk. “I’ll give you both the videocard and the photocard when I see you,” Xerxes promised Kalchek.

Then he turned the dials to a set of co-ordinates which would show him Tara’s mind.

Tara was sitting in front of Natalie, in Natalie’s office. And for the moment, Natalie was only sitting on the other side of her desk, watching Tara with some kind of anticipatory contentment.

Tara recognized that she was feeling nervous as she sat in front of Natalie’s desk; recognized that she was feeling nervous as Natalie was watching her. Natalie was clearly happy to leave her uncomfortable— maybe she was using her lenses to look into Tara’s mind— or maybe she was only guessing at the turmoil Tara was holding within. But whichever it was, Natalie had yet to send her power out, had yet to infiltrate Tara’s mind with it. She was leaving Tara to sit there and wonder— leaving Tara to sit there on edge, in suspense, every moment wondering if Natalie’s power was going to enter right then. The longer Natalie sat there without saying anything, the more Tara’s sense of unease intensified.

Natalie gave her a slow smile— and then Tara felt it— Natalie didn’t put very much effort into being gentle anymore. The days of her easing Tara into being Run, as she’d done when she’d first started Running her, were long in the past now. It was August now, and this was the way things were: Natalie entered Tara’s mind roughly, and quickly, and started Running her with little transition, and she gave Tara that slow smile all the time.

Now Tara could feel Natalie’s power sitting in her head. And everywhere through her body, Tara was going through the experience of being Run; every part of her humming with a sense of rightness. Every part of her was luxuriating in the feeling of being Run. It set her mind to rest— she didn’t have to think, she didn’t have to plan, she didn’t have to decide. Natalie was perfect, and Natalie could make all the decisions that needed making. All the pressure was off of Tara— all of her burdens were gone. And it was just so completely comforting— to know she could be at leisure, that nothing difficult or challenging would ever be required of her; to know that she could just be— slothful— it made the experience even sweeter still.

And then this brought some of Tara’s unease to the forefront. Only in seeing this come forward within her did Tara realize her sense of unease had not dissolved. She was feeling it more, now. She was feeling it…

Because the more that she enjoyed the feeling of being Run, the more she developed a taste for it— the stronger her craving for it became. And Tara wasn’t… sure… if that was something she should be encouraging in herself.

This was another example which showed the point things had reached as of August. In earlier months, Tara had dutifully reminded herself that it probably wasn’t a good idea to encourage the feelings Natalie put into her.

But now she could no longer even do that— all she could manage now was a kind of indecisiveness. Maybe it was an indecisiveness that spoke volumes— a quality only present in her because she was no longer capable of outright defiance, or even internal disagreement— but that was all it was. An indecisiveness.

Maybe it was a bad idea or maybe it wasn’t. But that ambivalent feeling didn’t really accomplish anything for her. She felt that mix of hesitancy and confusion, and then— did nothing to try and resist. Kept sitting in her chair, feeling Natalie’s power in her head, feeling herself being Run. And then that further developed her taste for this kind of experience— and further developed her craving. Her longing for the exact kind of experience she was already having— only intensified— and she did feel ambivalent about that, but not ambivalent enough for her sense of enjoyment to be ruined.

She was concerned, though, that she was becoming somewhat addicted to the experience of being Run. And she didn’t know where such an addiction would leave her— she didn’t know how she’d fit in with the world, if she was completely this version of herself that Natalie was making her. Every time Natalie Ran her, she was preparing Tara for a future in which she was Run all the time and never did any Running of her own. Any potential Tara would have had for Running on her own must be dwindling in response to what Natalie was doing.

And every time Natalie Ran her, Tara was drifting further and further away from the rest of the people in her society— if she existed as a version of herself who was addicted to being Run, she would never be able to Run anyone else— or participate in any of the Running meet-ups similar to that one she’d watched a few months before. She felt it was almost wrong of her to crave being Run in the way she was craving it. This wasn’t how other Runners felt— most other Runners were still able to Run people, even if they also personally enjoyed losing some of the toss-ups they got involved in.

Again Tara thought of the future it seemed that Natalie was preparing for her— a future where she was out of step with all the people who were around her, a future where she could never catch up to them, or catch onto what they were doing, let alone them and do it herself. By doing this to her, Natalie was isolating her— making it so Tara could never re-enter common society and play societal games by their expected rules.

Even seeing it this starkly didn’t make Tara angry at Natalie— she’d come to love being Run too much for that— had come to idolize Natalie too much for that. But even if her capacity for resentment had been somewhat erased, Tara was still capable of recognizing that Natalie was, in a way, dismantling parts of her mind and personality. And in the end, this left Tara ill-equipped to participate in the world— to face the world as it was and be an actor within it. Tara was starting to feel now that she would never again re the world— she would have to stay with Natalie— even a few months earlier, she might have been able to say, stay with Natalie or any other Runner who could direct me, but her idolization of Natalie had also intensified over time, and now Tara couldn’t imagine being Run by anyone else.

And there was more to her conundrum than just this. The more she let herself enjoy being Run, the more dependent she became on this experience— that was part of the problem. And as she became that person more and more dependent on this experience, she simultaneously became more and more out of step with the world, and isolated from it. That was another part of the problem. But while both of those statements were true, the first statement almost answered the second.

Yes, becoming more dependent on the experience separated her from the world— but that very dependence meant that she didn’t care as much as she probably should have. She was dependent on the experience of being Run and— so she appreciated the experience of being Run. Loved the experience of being Run. Loved it so much that she didn’t care what consequences she was going to face in exchange for having it. Loved it so much that even if it was going to bring on utter ruin— or the exact opposite of what she would once have said she wanted— then she would still say it had been worth going through in the end.

Natalie was still smiling at her with that same quirk of her mouth— her power was in Tara’s mind, Running her, and so she knew perfectly what Tara was thinking— maybe she was savoring what Tara was thinking—

“She’s almost definitely savoring what Tara’s thinking,” Xerxes expressed, for Kalchek’s benefit.

But Natalie was still just smiling— and still just Running Tara— and Tara was still being Run. And she was luxuriating in the experience now just as she had been before— maybe luxuriating even a little more now. It seemed she was constantly taking the experience in with greater and greater appreciation. It seemed, too, that it was hitting her on deeper and deeper levels. Tara liked the way being Run made her entire body feel warm. She liked the way it made her entire body feel like it was glowing. And she did feel like she was glowing, felt that so much it was almost surprising to see that no light was emanating from inside her. And Natalie only smiled at her, benevolently doing this to her— Natalie was perfect.

The longer Tara was Run, the more her dependency increased— and so many of her feelings intensified. But one of those intensified feelings was her idolization of Natalie— and so the longer Tara was Run, the more perfect Natalie seemed to her. She was more dependent on the feeling and Natalie was more perfect in her eyes— both facets of the experience looped for her again and again until she wanted Natalie to keep Running her forever, and until she was only capable of feeling gratitude towards Natalie. Tara knew being Run isolated her from the world, and locked the gate back to it for her— but Natalie was so perfect, and being Run was so lovely that she couldn’t help but think of this as a good thing.

It was a good thing that she couldn’t participate in casual Running meet-ups, or in slightly-less casual Running clubs. It was good that she couldn’t Run herself, or Run anyone else. It was good that she was at odds with the dynamic approach most other Runners dedicated themselves to.

And it was good— good that Natalie had instilled an insatiable appetite in her, good that Natalie had carved out a new place in Tara’s personality where Tara only cared about being Run and learning when that was going to happen to her again. She was grateful, and Natalie was so perfect— everything about it was so, so good, and she couldn’t see any negatives in it anymore. Her body was buzzing and humming in warmth; and she felt that glowing sensation inside too— being Run was such a beautiful feeling and she was completely at peace with the thought that this was what was waiting for her in her future.

Natalie was preparing her for more of this— and now Tara thought, if she only ever amounted to a Runner’s target— that would be alright. She found that was a pleasant idea.

Natalie was still smiling at her. And then— along with all the power Natalie was sending into her head, she also sent— a thought.

You’re ready now, Tara. You’re ready to learn even more about being Run.

And even as Natalie gave her that thought, Tara understood Natalie’s motivations. Because all that time they’d just been sitting across from each other and staring, Natalie could have spoken aloud whatever forthcoming instructions she had in store for Tara. But she hadn’t chosen to do that, because she’d wanted to put those instructions into Tara’s head mentally— had wanted to make her receive the information that way.

And she had waited a long time before even doing that, because she’d wanted Tara to dwell in the experience for a while first. Natalie designed everything so perfectly— Natalie was so perfect. Tara had understood her motivations; but she could only regard them in awe. And now all she could do was receive the information Natalie wanted to send her. All she could do was sit there and let herself be Run.

When you are Run, Natalie further transmitted to her, having that experience is more than just simple enjoyment for you. It’s sexual enjoyment. Being Run doesn’t only give you basic emotional pleasure— it gives you erotic pleasure. It’s not just warmth humming through you— not just that glowing feeling sitting inside. It’s erotic pleasure.

Emotional pleasure— that had been what she had felt before— that sense of relief to it, that sense of enjoyment and craving for more. That name fit perfectly in Tara’s head. And in what Natalie had said— Tara could see that Natalie had perfectly followed along with all her thoughts.

Perfectly followed along with all her thoughts because she was perfect and so that was how she did everything. And Tara didn’t know how she felt about the fact that Natalie was not only surveying her thoughts, but rephrasing them to make them more accurate and comprehensive. Tara felt that sense of indecisiveness rising in her again; saw the outline around those spaces where her anger and defiance had once been stored.

But Natalie had been Running Tara for a while now; and while Natalie had her power in Tara’s mind, and could have manufactured whatever responses in Tara that she wanted— Tara was used to being Run by Natalie’s power now, and her mind pre-emptively rearranged things, and created the new status quo that Natalie wanted it to operate under.

Natalie’s power was still there. And Natalie’s power was still Running her. And she felt a buzzing hum all through her body— and she felt a glow. But these things were directly tied into her pleasure-system now. Before, the pleasure had been emotional. It had only connected back to the landscape of Tara’s feelings. But now it connected back to Tara’s libido. When she felt that buzzing hum, there was an undercurrent to it that wound down to her pussy. Natalie Ran her, and then Tara felt that pleasure— it still felt strange to her that this was erotic pleasure and not emotional pleasure, though.

Each time she felt that hum go through her body, there was a moment before it connected into her pleasure-system. A moment in which it seemed to simply be emotional pleasure. And then each time, on a delay of a few seconds, she felt it in her pussy— and then in response to that body-hum, her pussy throbbed— then the throb became the hum again and went back up her body the other way, and then turned around and returned, hit her pussy again, and it throbbed— it seemed so cyclical now; and in each of those moments where she was waiting for the pleasure to sexually— it really felt like she was waiting for it. Anticipating it. Wanting it.

This was all happening to her because Natalie’s power was moving through her. This was now the natural response her body was going to have whenever Natalie entered her with her power.

It felt, to Tara, that that place Natalie had been carving out in her— had just been carved open a lot wider. That place in her mind and in her personality where Natalie kept chiseling— that place that she was creating, that place she intended for Tara to house her newfound submissiveness in.

Tara was feeling submissive now. She’d felt that way before at various points since Natalie had started Running her, but she’d never felt it this powerfully. It brought back some of what she’d felt earlier. She had not been a naturally submissive person in her life before— but Natalie had been introducing more and more of a submissive streak into her. And Tara didn’t care if that submissive streak was something Natalie had invented and installed into her; it was so melded into her now.

If she had this need inside her— this desperate, unfilled, yearning need— this need to submit… then she didn’t know how to fit that back into the world. How to fit herself back into the world. That… submissiveness in her made her out of place. In a society full of people who craved constant variety— who only enjoyed submission as a sometime-treat which fit into a greater pattern of shifting change— knowing she had this ever-present yearning for that same sameness— made her feel like she was the only person in the world that was like that.

Again this was the future Natalie was preparing her for. And if Tara hadn’t lost so much of her capacity for anger and resentment and bitterness— maybe she would have been afraid. Afraid of being that one lost submissive dropped into a world of Runners who would Run her drivingly if they crossed paths with her.

But she couldn’t conjure any kind of sense of fear. Those feelings were swirling in her— she was out of step with the world, the only one with a continuing need for stasis— she needed to submit. That was all she needed and that was never going to change. It would always be the same thing.

Those feelings were swirling in her, but they had been transformed by Natalie’s instruction too. Now, Tara felt them— but even they ed in her pussy eventually. She needed to submit; that feeling caused the throbbing now. And when she felt that, she felt herself becoming dependent even on this experience. Because no matter how ambivalent she felt, it was still— such a wonderful feeling to be Run. To know that this was what Natalie wanted her to feel— to know that living this experience was what Natalie wanted her to do. Natalie was putting the experience on her— and then Tara had to either submit to it or collapse under it.

Or maybe submitting to it was collapsing under it— because Natalie put the experience on her by putting her power into her. And then when it was there— something like an inward sigh happened inside of Tara. Like something in her was laying down inside and stretching out beneath that experience, like it was a blanket… and then every time that ed with her pussy— it throbbed— and that part of Tara’s body-circuit was completed, and the glow ran around the other end of the circuit; humming all through her body before it came back to her pussy again.

Natalie was Running her. Natalie’s power was in her. Tara was submitting to it— and when she submitted to it; it gave her relief. It gave her relief and it gave her ecstasy. And as long as she was being Run, the experience just went on and on. It was exactly what Natalie intended for her— and she was taking it in just the way Natalie wanted it taken.

Now Tara was focusing on the pleasure itself; her mind was clear, and if she had looked there, she would have seen the origins of the feeling, would have seen it play itself out. But the sense of sexual ecstasy Tara felt inside was distracting— she preferred to send her attention there.

Her breasts were warmed by that sense of erotic ecstasy just like all the other parts of her were. They glowed, just as she’d watched so many other parts of her body glow. Glowed and she really felt— that she wished there were someone there to touch and handle them for her. Someone there to grope and massage them. They were sensitive, and they needed touch.

Her pussy was warmed by that same erotic glow, too. And she wished there were someone there to touch it. Her clit needed attention, her slit did, and so did her opening. All of Tara’s pussy was crying out for touch; and weeping desperation, soaking through her underwear. This was what happened in her body when she submitted. This was her reward for submitting. It was just as addictive as being Run— the two things were twisting together and getting all mixed up inside Tara’s head. Being Run meant submitting and submitting meant being Run, and either way she was given the same reward… either way she became dependent on the experience itself. And drifted further and further away form the world, becoming less and less like most other people…

She was grateful for that. Natalie had given her the perfect gift and Tara was grateful for it; this proved how good Natalie was. She’d never lose sight of that— Tara ired Natalie so much for what she’d done to her.

You’re getting the idea now. Natalie poured the words into Tara’s head and they came dripping out of her pussy. It felt like they ran straight through her and then just dripped out of her pussy… But take it even further, Natalie encouraged her. You don’t have to feel the pleasure and let it end there— take things beyond that. Feel the pleasure, and let it come to completion. Let my power move through you, and then— cum.

Tara felt her mind rearrange itself again. Natalie’s power was in her and she welcomed it— and that hum ed through her body along the same circuit; from her pussy, through the rest of her and then back to her pussy again.

But the experience was a little different this time. Before, the pleasure had mostly been a static thing. And Tara hadn’t minded, because her desire for submission itself was a static thing— unchanging, just present and yearning for fulfillment. Present in the space Natalie was carving open in her, carving wider and wider— that place within her personality, that place meant to hold it.

The pleasure was not a static thing anymore, though. It happened inside her, and then traveled around the circuit of her body— from erotic to innocent and back again— but now, each time it went around the circuit, the pleasure seemed to increase. It was building up to something— up and up and up—

“I wonder why we’re not getting as much interference from Natalie’s mind today,” Xerxes wondered— and wondered if, somewhere in a future moment, Kalchek was wondering the same thing. Xerxes felt almost united with him again. “She does seem to be very focused on Running Tara. Maybe that’s taking so much of her concentration that she doesn’t really have time to reflect on what’s happening, or otherwise savor it.”

That did make sense to Trewhitt— after all, the previous time, Tara and Natalie had been apart from each other; Tara had been carrying out Natalie’s instructions alone, and Natalie had been able to watch her from afar.

Tara could still feel the pleasure building up inside her. Each time it went around the circuit, it became more unbearable. Each time it went around the circuit, it seemed to get closer to some kind of breaking-point; and Tara did feel a kind of anxiety about this. The pleasure she’d felt, even before when things had just been static, had been so intense that ing it made her scared now. If pleasure as intense as that actually culminated itself into some kind of release, that release would surely be earthshaking in nature. Tara had never experienced release like that— she was scared to face it for the first time. She wasn’t sure it would leave much of her in its wake.

It was building— she could feel her lower-back tensing; all the muscles of her body tensing—

Then it was a plunging feeling— she was plummeting down, the pleasure rushing up all around her— and her pussy clenched. Once initially, and then many times in succession. What had been a dripping of pleasure was now a gushing of it— she was streaming and streaming arousal out, and still clenching, and her whole body was held in a paroxysm— and Natalie’s power was still in her mind, so the feeling just went on.

Her reward for submission had been the pleasure itself, before. But now her reward was the release of that pleasure— and that was even better. And even more addictive. She wasn’t just gushing arousal out— when that arousal gushed out of her, there was enough of it to wash away old parts of her. Her own capacity for Running was dwindling even more quickly now. And when that arousal gushed out of her, it seemed to become a river underneath her, in a sense, a river that carried her even further away from the world.

She was thinking about Running again— not just about being Run. She might have had a talent for it; a small talent, or a large one. And she was thinking of the plaza, of the Runners she had watched in it through the headset. And even thinking of that headset— of what wearing it had meant— it made her pussy twinge, now. But she was thinking of the plaza, ignoring the twinge— thinking of all the Runners she had seen Run through it.

Some of them had been better at Running than others— and she couldn’t help but wonder which person’s skill-level her own would have resembled. Would it have been most similar to the skill-level of one of the Runners who’d struggled? Or one of the Runners who’d been decently comfortable, or one of the Runners who’d found it pathetically easy? And she thought of the day she’d ridden the subway— thought of how she’d wondered, secretly wished she would discover just how much talent she had for Running.

Because now that Natalie had shown her a new facet of the same experience, Tara was feeling even more sure that she herself was never going to Run. Natalie was preparing her for a certain future— but that almost felt like she was building a cage around Tara. And Tara could sit in the cage and look out through the bars at everyone else who was free— who could move about dynamically. Could look out through the bars of the cage as people Ran past her— but the only person who could open the cage was Natalie.

This had all gone on so long now, though, that there was another problem. If Natalie opened Tara’s cage now, she wouldn’t even want to step out of it. She would have to be dragged out of it, and once she was out of it, she would only spend her time crying and begging to be put back into the cage. Natalie was turning her against her own best interest— was doing that more and more.

And she could only love that it was happening. She could only love that it was happening, and there was no opposite emotion in her to counter-balance that. The only thing on the other side of the love was that indecisiveness— and that wasn’t enough to help her, wasn’t enough to decrease the dependency. It felt like nothing could decrease the dependency.

She needed submission even more— she could feel the pleasure even more painfully. She didn’t care that the world had no place for this kind of appetite. And didn’t care that she was never going to learn what amount of talent for Running she’d bestowed with unknowingly. Now when she thought of that potential being denied— that, too, made her pussy twinge, and twinge hard.

And Natalie was perfect— every time she thought of Natalie all she managed to conclude was that Natalie was perfect. But how could Tara think otherwise? She didn’t care if this was a thought that had been forced on her. Natalie had done all this to her— had kept a steady stream of power flowing into Tara’s mind, and she’d done all of that without having to expend much effort at all. She’d done all of that just sitting there, wearing that unbothered smile.

Some other Runners would have struggled— some other Runners would only have managed a weak hold over Tara. But Natalie was so skilled— so talented— that she could Run so impressively without really seeming to exert herself at all. She could Run so impressively and just wear a calm smile all the time— just sit there, full of energy and ability. Tara liked thinking that she might have been talented in the way Natalie was talented— but she enjoyed the feeling of being denied this potential, this area of self-discovery even more.

Natalie put more of her power into Tara’s mind; the response was automatic; Tara’s torso contorted as she remained seated on her chair— contorted wildly, and her body jerked forward— and the pleasure was in her. It seemed to be rising more quickly the second time; going around the circuit, and around the circuit— and then the pleasure released, and Tara was gushing and gushing— and twinging and twinging.

This was her reward. This was what it meant to be Run. And there were words in her mouth she hadn’t spoken yet, words on her tongue, words pressing against her lips from within— she hadn’t said those words yet, but if she said them— they’d come out sounding like begging. They’d come out and only be pleas— pleas for Natalie to Run her more, to reward her more.

She needed it. She needed it and she needed to submit. She couldn’t any other time in her life that she’d felt like this— like she needed something more desperately than she needed the elements which were required to sustain life.

And yet— Natalie was wonderful and Natalie’s power was wonderful. Because Tara didn’t actually need say the words that were in her mouth. She didn’t actually need to beg. Natalie could see that desire to beg in her— and this kind of submission was perfect because as long as Natalie’s power was in her head, and as long as the orgasm was in her body, it was like her reward was an ongoing thing. Like every moment of feeling Natalie’s power was submission in itself, and every moment of orgasm was immediate reward for that submission.

The other times Tara had been Run were nothing like this. And even the times Natalie had Run her before had been dangerously addictive. But the compulsive need for Natalie’s Running had gone so much further now. How could she go on without this experience? How was she going to endure waiting? Eventually Natalie would send her from this office, and stop Running her, temporarily at least.

And then Tara was going to have to go on with her life until Natalie Ran her again— and how was she going to manage that? While she was being Run, the pleasure was perpetual— and she didn’t want that to stop. She wanted her pleasure to be perpetual. She wanted her submission to be ceaseless. She never wanted to stop. She needed to be Run.

At least for now she was allowed to have this.

Xerxes paused, his hand hovering over the frequency-scanner’s dials, not quite turning them yet.

“If only Natalie’s mind weren’t so guarded as it is,” Xerxes lamented to Kalchek through the videocamera still recording. He was thinking ahead, of what was going to happen next.

“Obviously, the killer met her some time. If I could see faces like I do when Tara’s mind is the one I’m tuning into then I’d have a chance of seeing the killer there. But Natalie’s too guarded.

“Even though she’s not as guarded as the killer, I still never get anything more than an emotional impression from her— and because I’m viewing the capture through the killer’s mind, I only have so long before I get kicked out again— it takes them longer to know I’m in there when I’m further back within, but they still catch on— then I get thrown to that reciting they do as a mental-shielding technique, and then I’m out entirely… but even if I were tuning to Natalie’s mind directly and not a capture of it— it would be just as guarded and opaque as this capture of it is.

“If only Natalie were as transparent as Tara is— but of course she isn’t, because she’s a Runner at a certain level. It’s just so frustrating… I want the kind of day-to-day information Tara’s mind provides— the background faces— but Natalie’s mind is never going to give me that— and the limited time I get to spend looking into her head is always going to be cut short by the killer.”

Even though he was all alone in his office, Trewhitt still found comfort in speaking to Kalchek. He was laying out words that he knew wouldn’t be heard until later, but he had some measure of confidence in the future, some measure of confidence that the words he laid out now would be heard later on— and speaking to that future moment was a comfort in itself.

But it was even more of a comfort to imagine the Kalchek of that moment being on the receiving end of what he was saying— he’d felt it before, but it was the next best thing to having Kalchek in his office with him. It gave him nearly as much comfort as that would have. Even just in saying what he was saying, he could imagine Kalchek’s sympathy— and that was almost the same as receiving it.

And Trewhitt wasn’t only waiting in expectation for Kalchek to watch the video he was recording. He was also waiting in expectation for their meeting at the diner— he could imagine the sympathy Kalchek would give him even during the course of that interaction. That future moment was a lot closer to him in time than any moment in which Kalchek watched his video. And yet that moment needed to be more than just a moment of receiving sympathy. Trewhitt needed to show up to that moment as a different version of himself; a version of himself who knew the identity of the killer. And that put pressure on the remaining time he had— he had to transform himself into that new version between now and that diner visit; had to do that on the basis of what his investigating turned up— he still believed he could do it, but the pressure was starting to catch up to him now.

Maybe it was foolish to live in future moments— to feel he was hanging onto that future moment in which Kalchek watched this video, to feel he was hanging onto that future moment in which Kalchek sat across from him at the diner and conveyed sympathy to him. He ought to keep his focus on the present moment, on the work he had ahead of him.

Only through doing that work could he transform himself— only through doing that work could he become that version of himself that did know. That version of himself that could sit in that diner-booth with Kalchek and speak the right name of the killer.

Xerxes finally tuned the dials on the frequency-scanner, sending it into the recesses of the killer’s mind to access the mental-capture the killer had made of Natalie’s mind.

My prey, Natalie was thinking again. And all was still shrouded inside and without image— all was just hazy impression of emotion. My prey! I Hunt, and that’s what I do… I Hunt, and that makes me who I am— but this target— they’re the finest target I’ve ever seen. All the other people I’ve Hunted, all the other people I’ve Run— they can’t compare to this target.

“Some of the people Running that day in the plaza,” Xerxes commented, “thought similarly. Defined themselves by their identities as Runners— and that Bradley guy who went to that Running club said they’d done that even more. People do think that way— I guess Natalie does too.”

It’s been fun, the times I’ve Run other Runners, Natalie was continuing. I when I ran that girl Amanda— and then there was a capture-within-a-capture; just a whiff of Amanda’s ed thoughts, Amanda’s ed thoughts in which she thought of people she’d Run, with some frustration— it had never come easily for her, and even when she had ensured someone was completely under her power, they had only been weakly-held. It had taken all her effort, and she’d only ever had a weak and flimsy influence…

Or I when I Ran that guy, Samuel. Capture-within-a-capture again— Samuel’s ed thoughts, in which he thought of how much he enjoyed Running, in which he thought of how he barely even had to try— he just picked his targets, put forth the barest amount of effort, and then found that he had almost the strongest influence over them that he could imagine…

And then Natalie ed Running Kate, and Natalie ed Running Robert, and Adam, and Claire… Kate had only tried Running a few times and hadn’t liked it because she’d never had any success with it— Robert had been seasoned in it, but had found he was getting bored with it over time because he never seemed to improve and only managed to Run people into doing insignificant things, or into having partial experiences.

Adam had still only been toying with the idea of Running, but he’d been scared to commit himself to doing it because he’d secretly thought he wasn’t going to be any good at it— and Claire, though she achieved impressive results, was still only really half-interested in doing it. She’d never had any kind of defining experience with it that had made her want it all the time. In her opinion it was something nice to do from time to time, but she didn’t miss it when it didn’t happen.

I Ran them all, Natalie was thinking now. Each of those Hunts ended with a successful conquest— where I’d dominated them so totally that I owned them and they couldn’t think anything about that, other than what I wanted them to think…

“That’s the most objectionable thing about Natalie,” Xerxes commented for Kalchek— trusting he would watch him saying it someday. “When I had her confused with the killer, I thought this tendency of hers went along with the killer’s willingness to kill. But it’s still objectionable when it’s all her own thing. She doesn’t care about the feelings of her targets— she wants to dominate them so fully as to force them into feeling what she thinks they should feel— that’s clearly a big part of the appeal for her. She doesn’t care about her targets’ feelings— just wants to force— it’s reprehensible.”

I Ran them all, and completed each of those Hunts successfully, Natalie thought again. But traditionally, most of my targets have been Runners— they’ve had varying degrees of talent, and varying degrees of experience, but they’ve generally been Runners. This is the first target I’ve ever pursued… who’s never Run. And I had no idea— that such innocence— that such inexperience— could be so maddeningly enticing. I should have Hunted virgin targets long before this— but again, maybe it’s just this particular prey-creature. Maybe they alone have this capacity to maddeningly entice. Maybe any other creature in the same category would have left me bored— maybe it’s just them. But they are— so special— so— I need to. I need to reach out for their mind, across space—

“She talked herself into it,” Xerxes named. “She stoked her obsession further, by dwelling in thoughts of Tara, until she reached the point of needing to act on it.”

Yes… I’m sending my power out— I can feel their mind— so innocent, so untouched— never having been touched by anyone but me— and I can just slip— subtle commands in— yes, it feels good to imagine being Run… you should dream of being Run when you sleep at night… you don’t need to know— that I’m exerting minor influence over you— and I can just look around— and see— you can’t shake the feeling that there’s a pest lingering near you— a fly you just want to swat away— but you can’t realize the nature of that pest— or even pinpoint where they are— or what they’re doing— just a feeling you can’t shake. That’s fine… I only slightly— and you don’t understand that that’s what’s happened. I don’t care if it leaves you with that kind of vague sense of unease… because that happens on the surface… but then underneath, you are thinking of being Run… learning to crave it. And tonight, I think you will dream of having it happen to you…

The dials on the frequency-scanner whirled.

“We’ve just been forced to the front of the killer’s mind again, out of the mental-capture,” Trewhitt explained. He really felt a sense of camaraderie for Kalchek in this— as if they were a team even in this moment, and even if they were separated by time. “They really never let us access even the deepest part of their mind for long.”

The mental-shield was going up.

“This is the kind of thing Tara would have needed to keep Natalie out,” Trewhitt commented to Kalchek through the camera. “It always feels like we’re jumping to the present moment when this happens— that the killer is trying to keep us out specifically.”

Xerxes glanced at the dials. “But even though it feels like this kind of shielding behavior is in response to us specifically it’s not— I know it’s just because the killer has that frequency-scanner brain-chip. They’ve just had to do this all throughout the years to keep out random mental-intruders. It’s frustrating, though, that they’ve done it so well and for so long. Because in practice it means I keep getting blocked— caught up within that mental-net, unable to get any other information on the killer— unable to get any closer to uncovering their identity.”

The Second Law of Running states that the ability to control minds is not distributed evenly, and that some humans have a greater ability for it than others, the killer recited. And that made Xerxes think— of Amanda and Samuel and Kate and Robert, of Adam and Claire and all the other Runners Natalie had once Hunted and then Run.

The killer was reciting the same thing over again. And then reciting it and reciting it, and that formed the net— recitation after recitation went around their mind in an offset, staggered way— each one circling, so that when they were all circling together in that offset way, they formed a sphere. And it was impossible to see through those recitations into the killer’s mind— impossible to glean any other information. This was how their strategy of mental-guarding had worked before, and it was still working that way now.

“I wish you were really here,” Xerxes sighed. “I wish I had time— and I wish I had someone I could send out to ask questions. If only I had the resources— to question member after member from Running club after Running club— I could figure out if any of them had mottos that sounded like what the killer recites— even if that Bradley guy could be tracked down for questioning all this time later. If only someone could ask him about what other clubs he’s Run with—”

Xerxes dragged a hand down his face. “I don’t have those resources, though. And I don’t have that kind of time. I’m going to have to keep paying attention to what Tara’s doing… and especially to what Natalie’s doing. It’s just possible Natalie will give me some clue about the killer at some point— she had to have crossed paths with them at least once— and maybe I’ll see that.”

Xerxes looked back at the stack of photos on his desk. “If only the killer’s face had been captured in one of those.”

He sighed and lit another cigarette. “I’m tuning back into Tara’s mind. It’s 10:54; I only have 36 minutes left.”