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Gacha God: The Inherent Dangers of Mind Control (ch. 36)
🕑 Added 2023-09-09 15:00:55 +0000 UTCIt had been a while since I've committed a murder, but even if my skills had gotten a little rusty, I had the basic principles of a good murder down pat. A lot like being a real estate agent, it really came down to two things -- location, and opportunity. Setting up both took a bit of work when it came to my siblings for a rather wide variety of reasons that included but weren't limited to: magic, teleportation, or having to break a reliquary that housed their immortal soul at the same moment you completed the twelfth step of an elaborate ritual you had to use to kill their fleshy body in the first place. So, in comparison, getting the drop on some unaware dickhead that had a limited form of mind control should be pretty easy.
As simple as using my Time Turner to discover where he would be, winding back the clock, putting a hand grenade under his chair, then boom. Simple. Clean. Well, not counting the mess, but undeniably effective. I could do it right now. And I just might.
"This is… murder," Peter spoke up, voicing his hesitations. Morals were a real pain in the ass to deal with, I decided. It's why I didn't have any. They got in the way of a simple murder and made it a conundrum about the sanctity of human life. Spoiler alert -- there wasn't any, but good luck convincing other people. "Like, a real murder. Look, I'm not denying that you're right about what the government would do with him. I think you're right. Like, a hundred percent." Peter talked on, when I opened my mouth to argue.
I scratched at my cheek, "It's the best way to make sure he's not a problem." I didn't even need to go the bomb route. I'm pretty sure I had a sniper rifle. Or I could fly above the skyline and drop a rock on his head or something. We had everything we needed to turn this problem into not a problem. Location? We knew where he would be and when. Opportunity? He was completely unaware that we existed and were about to murder him. The stars had aligned.
The only roadblock was Peter. This was a line in the sand for him.
"It's the most effective way, I think, but it's not the only way," Peter argued while a wrenching sound came from the bathroom. Jessica had a superhuman tolerance for whiskey, but it came with a superhuman ability to sober up quickly. Barely a handful of hours after being outrageously drunk, she was already experiencing the mother of all hangovers. "I could create something that would nullify his powers. Based on what Jessica said, it's pheromone based, and it's just an issue of creating a compound that would nullify the effects of those pheromones. With some time, I could remove the ability from him completely. There's plenty of examples -- like ants -- that I can work on."
I didn't blame Peter for being a roadblock, even if I did find it a little inconvenient. At the end of the day, I was abnormal. I was the one that was too quick to jump at murder to solve a problem. It was human nature to flinch at the idea of killing another person -- if that wasn't the case, then PTSD wouldn't be a thing. I was the one that had a thousand odd years spread out across hundreds of lifetimes to train that hesitation out of me.
Still, "How long would that take?" I asked and Peter winced, and the answer was too long. Or, rather, not soon enough.
Peter was normal. Well, as normal as you could be with a super brain and self given powers. But, beyond that, he was a normal teenage boy that had a normal upbringing. "A week? Maybe two? It depends on if I could get a sample… maybe from someone who's infected. Medical data would also help. Disrupting it would be a lot easier, but with that, I could destroy his ability entirely and there wouldn't be a reason to kill him. He could go to prison for the rest of his life like he deserves."
"If we could convince a jury that mind control exists," I pointed out.
His lips thinned, a beat of silence falling between us as Jessica continued to retch into the toilet. He realized that I was as unyielding as he was I think. "I could build a prison," Peter pointed out, and I inclined my head to him. That was true. I didn't disagree with that point. We had the Fortress of DOOM. We could put him in the brig. Or we could teleport to Pluto and build a prison there with the Fortress acting as the only way in or out.
That just sounded like a lot of time and effort to spare the life of a guy I couldn't give less of a shit about even if I popped a squat. "And be a warden for the rest of your life?" At the very least, he wasn't completely hung up on a 'trial by one's peers'. That was probably one of the dumbest ideas that humanity ever had. Right up there with the idea of a fair trial.
"It won't just be Kilgrave. There are other bad guys out there," Peter argued, crossing his arms over his chest. I think this was our first true disagreement. "One's with powers that normal people can't deal with or a normal prison can't handle. I… I could build one that could. I might need a little help from Mr. Stark for materials, but I could do it, and Kilgrave could be the first inmate. I… we don't need to kill him."
Need? No. Peter wasn't wrong. Honestly, he was 100% right.
I just couldn't be bothered. Going out of my way to not kill a guy when it was so much easier to just kill him, and when I knew the guy was a grade a piece of shit…
Why bother?
Before I could answer, a flushing sound echoed out from the bathroom and a second later, an absolutely miserable looking Jessica stepped out. Her eyes were bloodshot, she was white as a sheet, but her eyes burned with a livid anger that shone that much brighter now that she had sobered up. She looked between us, "Brat. Could you do it?" She asked Peter, making him stand a little taller.
"I can," Peter replied with a surprising amount of confidence. "A cure and a prison. I can make sure that he never hurts anyone ever again." He swore to her and I could hear the sincerity dripping from his words. He meant every single one. Still, it was a damn foolish thing to promise. However, it seemed to be exactly what Jessica wanted to hear. Her gaze flashed.
"I'm going to hold you to that," Jessica said, turning her gaze to me and I held them up in a gesture of surrender. Just like that, the decision was made.
"If that's what you want, then that's what you want," I offered. It wasn’t my call to make. I wasn't the injured party here. I was just some asshole that was meddling in others affairs -- if the one that was held captive in her own mind while being used as a thug and a sex slave wanted him to live in the darkest pit we could find, then it really wasn't my place to argue. "Murder will be plan B then. So, what do we need for plan A?"
Peter let out a breath, visibly relieved. "Uh… information. And materials."
"A trap," Jessica decided, making us both look at her. "We trap him. Stick him in a hole until you have what you need to cripple his powers." Now Peter looked pensive and more than a little alarmed and I saw the angle Jessica was playing. She caught Peter's look, "I'm not going to be stalked by this psychopath. I'm not going to let him roam free while you cook up a silver bullet. I already know what we need to hold him. I've been dreaming of what I would do for years… I just never thought I would ever get the chance to use it."
Peter shifted foot to foot, "That's-" a terrible idea. Actually terrible. It had none of the benefits of putting him in the dirt, and all of the risks that came with Peter's plan.
Then again, I suppose it was my fault for expecting a rational mindset in this situation. "Okay. That's fine. Just point us where you want us," I offered with a shrug.
It was meant to be a reassurance, but Jessica's eyes narrowed into slits, "Why are you helping me? Both of you? None of this is your shit to deal with." Personally, I felt like it was a little late to be asking that question.
Peter, however, gave her a radiant boyish smile, "Because we're heroes. Helping people is what we do."
A simple but genuine message and I could see it left Jessica speechless.
Peter and I were very different people when it came right down to it and it was little comments like that which made the differences that much clearer. In me, he saw what he wanted to see. I almost dreaded the day when he finally realized the truth.
Jessica was saved from having to answer by a frantic knock coming from the front door, "Jessica? Jessica! Open up or I'm going to knock the damn door down!" A woman's voice cand from the other side and Jessica blanched. She shot us a look, then at the state of her office, and winced again. "Jessica! I know you're in there! Don't you dare ignore me!" Jessica was clearly considering exactly that for a moment before she decided against it.
All the same, it still appeared that she was walking to her execution when she approached the door and undid the locks. I saw on the other side was a woman who… seemed vaguely familiar? Blonde hair, blue eyes, very pretty with professionally done makeup and expensive looking clothing and jewelry. I knew I had seen her before, but I had no idea where. At least until Peter seemed gobsmacked and whispered her name, "Dude. That's Trish Walker," he whispered the name like it was supposed to mean anything to me.
It took a moment for it to clock, because it did. Trish Walker. I saw her face on billboards, at bus stops, and the odd poster all promoting some talk show thing. I had never listened to it, but it was apparently a popular podcast if they were blowing that much money on advertisements. Trish didn't notice our presence as she wrapped Jessica in a hug, barging her way into the apartment. "I just got a call, what's going on? Are you okay? You're drinking is- who are you?" Triss began, only now catching sight of us thanks to a hole in the wall.
Peter waved, "I'm Peter. We're here to help?"
That only seemed to increase Triss' confusion, prompting Jessica to speak up. "They're the kids I mentioned. The ones I'm mentoring. And they're leaving. Right now." Jessica said, shooting us a look that very clearly conveyed the message of 'speak at your own peril.'
"The ones that paid a million dollars?" Triss questioned, narrowing her eyes at us, and I noticed that her glare was similar to Jessica's. "Where did you get that kind of money?"
"Found it-" "Stole it from mobsters," Both Peter and I replied at the same time. I was the honest one, making Peter drive an elbow into my ribs.
Jessica looked like she was about to throttle me and given her super strength, I gave her decent odds of managing it. "Get. Going," she growled at us.
"No. Stay. You two can tell me what in the hell is going on because I know she won't," Triss interjected. "I've never seen you like this, Jess. Not-" Triss began, and I could see it in her eyes that the pieces clicked together. "Jessica-"
"No. No, you two get going. I'll talk to you later," and that was the politest 'Get the fuck out of here now' that she could have given. Peter started to protest, but I grabbed him by the shoulder and led him to the door. Where a fight was breaking out over the money I had thrown as a distraction. Closing the door behind me, through it, I immediately heard Triss grilling Jessica, but I put it out of my mind. That, in my very limited experience, was a family conversation.
Side stepping the brawl that broke out in the hallway and stepping into the dingey elevator, Peter blew out a sigh. "We're not going to deal with him… now, right?" Peter asked me while my attention went to a bit of graffiti on the elevator door. It was just another drawing, but perhaps fresher than the rest. A man in an aquarium tank by the look of it.
Huh. Thanks Future Me. A quick and simple solution.
I scratched at my cheek, considering it for a moment before I shrugged, "Might as well." If I wasn't going to kill him, or help Jessica kill him, then I wanted to wrap this up as quickly as possible. The information the Ancient One gave me bounced around my skull like a pinball, echoing in my ears. I genuinely didn't know what was the worst bit of news -- that Zarathos was out and about, or that I was set on a collision course with my sister. I really wasn't in the mood to deal with some pissant mind controller.
Peter seemed pensive. Worried, almost. "Shouldn't we wait for Miss Jones?" He questioned, earning a cocked eyebrow from me as the elevator doors opened with a painful squeak of metal.
"Do you really think it's a good idea to let this guy be anywhere near her unless he's in an airtight cell?" I asked him, kind of surprised that he thought that was remotely a good idea. It would be what Jessica wanted, no doubt about that. But wanting something stupid didn't make it any less stupid. I would know. I'm something of an expert in the subject.
His lips pressed into a thin line, seeming… I'm not even sure. Displeased? Annoyed? Like he wanted to argue the point but didn't have a solid argument? I couldn't tell since it vanished a second later. "Do we have a plan?" He asked me with some reluctance.
I just laughed as we left the building.
Of course I had a plan.
…
Kilgrave had one of the lamest versions of mind control that I had ever seen -- area of effect and time limited. Worse, a short time frame. Meaning he had to be in frequent contact with his victims, and that contact had to be in person. Which made him vulnerable. Very vulnerable. And predictable when you knew his victims. Now, he could be proactive about it. Careful. Discreetly meeting his victims in various disguises, not breaking their natural habits to not arouse suspicion, or influencing them so any break in character could be explained.
However, that would be a massive pain in the ass. People did what felt comfortable. What felt good. What felt easy.
If he was anything like some of my siblings -- discovered or gifted his power at a young age -- then he grew up having everyone around him doing exactly what he wanted, when he wanted, how he wanted. Such an upbringing didn't lead to caution. It led to indulgence. People never expected difficult times, in the end. Because something worked out for them, they expected it to keep working for them. If I had to guess, Kilgrave felt like the world was his to do as he pleased with.
"We have gravity tech, and we have portals. It's almost too easy," I remarked, looking through some binoculars, seeing Kilgrave seated at a park bench, making an old woman give him some breadcrumbs so he could toss them to pigeons. With power came complacency. Stagnation. You stopped looking over your shoulder or preparing for the rug to be ripped out under your feet. That's why I habitually murdered myself -- it kept me on my toes.
For Kilgrave, it was just so much easier to simply have his victims come to him. Why go out of his way when he could make others go out of theirs?
Malcolm was making his way right to Kilgrave, his hands in his pockets and his head low. We didn't have Ned to tap into his phone, but we didn't need it. If Kilgrave was having Jessica stalked, then I would imagine that Malcolm would find her breakdown worth mentioning. Just had to follow him right to our target.
"Are you ready?" I asked, cracking my neck as my clothing began to shift. They became wisps of smoke, changing their shape to become the attire of Audacity. My mask was replaced with a featureless black covering that didn't even have an opening for my eyes, yet all the same, I saw through the mask like it wasn't even there. A black tendril emerged from my back while my ATs hummed to life.
"I'm ready. You're… sure this is a good idea, right?" Peter questioned with evident hesitation. I thought he would be more on board with this, but I think he was getting some cold feet about the heroics part of being a hero. No shame in that. If doing was as easy as people imagined it being, then no one would ever hesitate in anything.
"Yup. Get the console ready," I gave him fair warning as I rolled my shoulders. A brief appearance as Audacity should be fine.
I'm pretty sure Peter muted himself so I wouldn't hear him sigh, but a second later I heard him say, "Ready," through a mic in my ear. With that acting as the green light, I took a step forward and fell off the edge of the building that I was standing on. It was a modest drop, but it was enough to get my stomach doing flips inside of me. Wind buffered at my body, howling in my ears, as I dropped like a stone for a good hundred feet before shot forward like a bullet directly at Kilgrave as he relaxed in Central Park.
I darted between trees, just high enough that I wouldn't have to worry about anyone splattering all over me. My rapid approach was noticed by some, but they all failed to react as I zeroed in on Kilgrave. He seemed to sense me because, for no reason in particular, he looked up and his gaze seemed to meet mine. His eyes widened, he started to flinch back, but by then, it was way too late.
A portal opened behind him directly to the Fortress of DOOM, and the black shadowy tendril wrapped itself around his torso while I caught him in a zero G field, taking us both through the portal where Peter was waiting. The very moment that we were through, before Kilgrave could so much as shout, the portal changed its destination, and with little grace, I flung him back through it. Kilgrave landed in a heap when gravity exerted control over him once again, the portal closing behind him.
"There," I remarked, my costume fading away as I landed lightly on the ground. "Simple and clean."
"I… thought that would be a lot harder," Peter admitted as he imputed another command for the portal.
I just smirked in his direction, "Mind control isn't that difficult to deal with when you know what you're dealing with. Even being mind controlled can be handled with a little preparation," I dismissed the issue with a wave of my hand as the portal reopened. Stepping through it, I saw that we were in an abandoned aquarium. Peter had made some modifications to one of the exhibits -- bulletproof glass, air tight, complete with an airlock to get in and out. Zero G made simple work, it seemed.
Kilgrave was picking himself up, looking around his new cage and I got my first good look at him. He was… a guy, I guess. Handsome with brown hair. Seemed a little too fond of the color purple, but the color looked good on him. I heard the portal close behind me after Peter followed me through.
"So," Kilgrave began, throwing on a charming smile and instantly, my guard went all the way up. He was aloof. Unbothered. I just kidnapped him and tossed him in a tank. There was being unbothered, and then there was… "You must be Sebastain," he continued.
He wasn't surprised.
The sharp crackle of electricity was my only warning before I felt every muscle in my body go tense before I collapsed to the ground, seeing stars. A lot of emotions ran through me in that moment as Peter approached the airlock, his hands still crackling. Anger. Disbelief. Confusion. I had absolutely no idea when Kilgrave could have gotten to Peter. The timeline was relatively tight. There wasn't much in the way of opportunity.
As the doors swung open, letting Kilgrave out of his cage, one emotion managed to surpass all of the others.
Annoyance.
This was so not my day.
Comments
Darknorth
Playing hero is a good way to end up dead. Its such a terrible trope
Mc French Fry
Ah so this wasn't Peter being reluctant to kill him it was him being controlled maybe? Maybe both
