by P. S. Power
Then, when he was there at school, his life had been a combination of scholastic endeavors and intensive self-defense training. Mainly boxing and ju-jitsu, though there had also been regular weapons practice. Saber and epee, as well as shooting. Other boys at the school had similar training, though none of them were pushed quite as hard physically. Which had been paid for by his father, specifically. He’d been told that part several times a month.
Eventually the whole point of the program he was involved in had been explained.
That had come out rather quickly, after his powers had arrived. Instructor Billings had explained it to him, as they’d both started their regular morning run, alone. About how the life like dummies he had to kill each day, the men, women and children of all types, had been progressively made more real seeming over time, until there was almost no difference between what he stabbed, shot and beat with his fists and an actual person. In order to strip away any humanity he had left.
Realizing that he’d been quiet for too long, Connor smiled and shook his head.
“Sorry, I got sidetracked with other thoughts. No. No one did anything to me against my will and while I probably sucked a few more cocks than is strictly proper, and had the same done in return, they were all with consenting boys who were no more than two years older or younger than I was.” The words popped out rather glibly, even though they would have been punished at Etain, if anyone in charge had heard them.
For a bunch of rampant and unapologetic pedophiles, they were remarkably anti-gay. At least on the surface. Also anti-masturbation, for some reason.
The words got a snort from across the desk.
“Good. We can deal with that easily. If anyone asks in the future, simply tell them that what happens at an all-boys boarding school should stay there and laugh a bit. The press will likely be around, now that you’re out in the world and some of them will ask unfortunate questions. That part was a mistake, I think. Keeping you from the world and women for so long. There was nothing comparable as far as studies being offered in a mixed gender environment, so I had to go with Etain. A harsh place, in many respects. Also, the best at training young men in certain ways.” There was a wave then, and the man finally sat up straight. His posture less than perfect.
That single move showed that the strange man, who was similar in build to his son, was no taller. About six-two, the same as Connor. They were both rail thin, as well. With ice blue eyes and strong noses. Other than that, they looked nothing alike. For one thing, his son was several shades darker, having an almost golden skin color, compared to the pasty white of the older man.
Trying not to start a fight, since things were actually going better than he’d expected, with much less yelling and no hitting in particular so far, Connor cleared his throat.
“You mean the training harnesses and constant monitoring?” That last part was a lie, of course. They were told that they were watched constantly, but by the time they’d reached fifth year, every boy at the school knew that it wasn’t the truth. There had been cameras aplenty, but no one ever seemed to get in trouble for anything they did, meaning no one was watching.
The elder Harriman shrugged and made a gesture with his right hand again. Almost a flapping thing that was both inelegant and seemed confusing. It wasn’t the kind of thing that Connor was used to seeing at all.
“There are several places that use those methods or some variation of them to compel obedience from the pupils. No, I rather meant the other mental conditioning that you received. The lifelike simulations you practiced shooting and stabbing, along with the sounds of pained screams while you fought.”
Connor had been a bit sheltered in a way. For instance, while he knew what women looked like without their clothing, from biology class, he’d never spoken to one at close range for more than a few moments. Not until the day before, and that one had been strange seeming while she worked. Her clothing had stayed on as well, unfortunately. Not that he’d asked for anything else from her.
Still, Etain had been a school and expected constant learning and study. That meant he’d worked a few things out for himself, over the years. They didn’t hide a lot of information from the boys. They just tortured them into thinking what they wanted them to.
“The desensitization training? I’d wondered about that. I guess it will make it a bit easier to defend myself, if I’m attacked. Or… I don’t know, kill random people for no particular reason? That one too.” That had to be the point, since it had always been connected to fighting. At least for him. Some of the others had just been set to watch him stab or shoot the training aids, while the horrible screams played in the background and the harnesses shocked them if they dared to cry out. Mainly younger boys. Ones that had always been terrified by him after those sessions, even if he was really pretty nice, most of the time.
Across from him, behind the oversized desk, his father grinned.
“Indeed. Anyway, was there anything else about your premature graduation from Etain that you wanted to share with me?” The words were loaded enough that Connor snorted at the man.
It was rude and not what he’d been trained to do his entire life, but had just come out.
“Well, I did get into the Cayman Islands account of Headmaster Morris and remove all his stolen money. Only after I was kicked out, however. Before that I’d really intended to just leave him alone on that part. No one believed that he’d stolen the cash though, even with a video confession, or at least the police wouldn’t investigate, so I handled that for myself.”
After a brief moment, there was a slow nod.
“I’d wondered, to tell the truth. We found the bank account that Tom Morris was using but couldn’t trace it past that. Where did the money get to, do you know?”
There was no way to make it vanish without knowing, of course. The idea would probably be that it was in a numbered Swiss account or something similar, of course. Ready for him to spend on… Stuff. He’d never actually had money before, so didn't know what would be bought, really. Connor had the right account anyway, even if he couldn’t get much out of it. Not without a trip to Switzerland in person. Which wasn’t what had happened at all.
“It’s in the funds earmarked for improving the dining room. No one had touched or reviewed that for over a year when I was looking for a place to put it, so I figured it would be safe enough there, for the time being. What, did you think that I’d stolen it? I’m practically a super hero here.” It had been close, if he were going to be honest with himself about it.
The truth was that taking fourteen million dollars wasn’t worth the legal risk for him. His father had billions and while that didn't mean Connor did, directly, there had never been any hint that he wasn’t going to inherit or anything. Just ignored.
His father laughed a bit, then tapped a button on his desk, which caused the top to open up, a computer screen popping up vertically, along with a keyboard. They weren’t standard looking things at all, being creations of light and made no sound as he started to use them, instead of speaking again. Ten minutes later, the man pulled back, seeming satisfied with what he’d found.
“Not bad. I can actually report to the other parents where the funds are, then. Not that it will bring Tom Morris back. He had an unfortunate car accident last night. Murdered, just so you don’t get lost here. You don’t steal from those who don’t play by the rules. Not that you would have been in danger, if you’d taken it for yourself. No one wants to cross me.” He hesitated then, and even if the words were all true, seemed to be considering not saying something.
Finally, Stephen did it, looking directly into his son’s eyes.
“The instructors you showed to have been raping the boys will all be killed in prison, of course. Not that such things weren’t a service offered by Etain. It’s part of the religious training that some require for their children. Moloch worship, Luciferianism, Deep Catholic… To break their minds and spirits into controllable pieces. I didn’t want that for you. Whic
h is turning out to be a good thing, given everything. At least I think we’re on the same side, still? When the law refused to stop those who had come after you properly, I notice that you didn’t hesitate to take matters into your own hands. That’s an excellent sign. Our work isn't for the cowardly of the world.”
There was a nod from the man then, which seemed self-satisfied. Maybe a tiny bit smug. It was kind of cute, though not in a creepy way. Connor didn’t want a blowjob from the man hardly at all, he was nearly certain. Even if he had been being kind to him for the last moments. That thought got buried, since it was gross enough not to be considered.
“We, our family, is part of a very special organization-” There was a buzzing sound from the side of his desk, which was answered by the press of a spot on the top of the wood. No button showed at all.
“Yes, Clarice?”
“Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Harriman, but Mr. Laveen is here for his ten o’clock appointment.”
Looking at his son, the older man winced.
“I really need to see him about some matters. Nothing good, or I’d get you to stay for it. We need to finish this conversation. It’s important.” There was hesitation in the words, as if his son was actually more important to him at the moment than the business meeting he had scheduled.
Connor simply stood up. They’d covered most of the important things already as far as he was concerned. It would be interesting to find out what his family was getting up to, but that wasn’t important enough to let the idea of not doing that bug him. Also, more information about his mother would be nice. She’d died in the old house, the one that he’d lived in as a child.
Murdered by thieves that had broken in, while he’d slept. That she had some kind of power was news to him. He’d kind of thought that he was the only one with something like that in the whole world. It was something that had never come up at all in conversation. Then, given those conversations hadn’t happened at all, that might have been a simple oversight, instead of a vast secret or things being hidden from him.
“We could meet later?” Connor knew to say the words, though didn’t expect much to come from them. They hadn’t planned out a new school for him to go to or anything, yet. That left him at loose ends, really. Though if he was given a choice, he wanted to pick one that was a bit lighter on the idea of torture. Hopefully what he wanted would count.
His father stood, started to put his hand out, to shake, then smiled and pulled it back.
“Oh, right. That. Yes, though. We should be eating dinner at six tonight. There will be some guests in for that, but it would be good to see you there, if you can attend?” The words sounded like a request, instead of a command or order.
Which was a lot kinder than he would have expected from the man. Not that he’d always seemed cold or anything. It had been more that he’d simply not been there at all.
“I’ll try to be there, if possible. Thank you. It was a good discussion.” Connor thought so, anyway. The man hadn’t pulled a weapon out or made any threats. At the same time, he’d been polite and even considerate of his feelings.
Walking out the main double doors behind him meant passing a rather thick bodied gentleman in a very nice suit. He was thinning on top, but his whole head wasn’t shaved or anything. His tie clip was interesting, being a bit big. An eagle, with a large black jewel inset into its chest. Seeing him looking at it, the man nodded. They were about three feet from one another and the man didn't know to make himself not speak, it seemed.
“It’s a spy camera. I’m working with the government to entrap Mr. Harriman here, if at all possible. If this doesn’t work, we’re going to have to have an old girlfriend claim he raped her thirty years ago.” The words were loud enough for all of them to hear.
Laveen was still only a few feet from Connor, since they were both moving through the large double doors at the same time. Behind him, Stephen had stood up, still behind his desk, nearly twenty feet away.
He smiled at the words, instead of seeming upset. Then, rather clearly, lied. Smoothly enough to show it was a daily thing for him to do. Not that Connor didn’t hold to the same basic rule. He lied when it served him. That others had a problem lying to him didn’t mean he was going to give up the power of stealing another’s reality.
“They won’t find anything on me, I’m afraid, Leland. You know that I’m as honest as the day is long.”
The man in the door had stopped moving, his face frozen and moving from rather florid to a nice stark white, almost as if a drain plug had been pulled allowing all the blood out.
“That’s not what I know at all, Stephen. We’re all a bunch of crooks and you know it. Not that I’d be working with the feds if they didn’t have all that dirt on me. That tape I made, with the ex-president and his wife… The one where we ate that little girl?”
The words were bold enough, though followed by a sharp glance at Connor.
“Which I shouldn’t be saying in front of you. I… Don’t know you, do I?”
Connor simply shook his head. The information was gross, no matter what the new man had meant by eat. Worse, he was clearly an idiot, if he’d allowed tapes to be made of things like that. Not good friend material at all.
“I was just leaving. Good day.” He looked at his father, in case plans had changed that way. After all, if the man was working against his dad, then it probably meant Connor needed to help with things.
There was a smile though and a wave, from the older gentleman across the room.
“I’ll see you at dinner.” Then there was a soft wave at the door, which Connor pulled closed behind him. As he walked away, he noticed that the desk that held the secretary was empty. The woman herself, a rather attractive blonde lady, who was probably in her mid-forties, smiled at him, standing off to the side, putting together drinks. It looked like coffee or possibly a tea service. There were other bottles there, that contained wines, ports and from the look, scotch.
Connor had never been one for drinking, himself, but there had been classes on it at Etain, since knowing about that kind of thing could come up in business settings.
As he moved a bit closer to the woman, not able to help it if he wanted to leave the area, she winked at him.
“I really hate Leland Laveen. He always tries to feel me up when he comes. Disgusting man. I mean, he just looks greasy, all the time. It wouldn’t be that bad if he was just brushing up against me like most men do, but he always goes right for the crotch grab. First thing, just boom, right between the legs with a ten second hold as I have to stand there, pretending it’s funny.” She stopped then and went tight lipped. Stopping herself from saying anything else on the topic.
Connor nodded.
“That… sounds really annoying. Thanks for letting me know he’s a creep like that. I’ll keep that in mind.” The best policy, when told a sudden truth, was to simply accept it. Especially when you knew it was real.
So far, he knew that Leland Laveen was a crook and tended to feel up the attractive secretary when he could. As well as eat little girls, in a way he could be blackmailed for by the government. That probably meant he did a lot more than just that. No one got caught for the one thing they’d done wrong.
No, people were caught when they did hundreds of evil things, because they got lazy about it. That or they got unlucky, which was often close to the same thing. If they’d really only done one thing wrong in their entire life, then covering their tracks would be simple. People like Leland probably gave up caring about being caught at a certain point. Counting on the fact that no one cared all that much to even think about the cannibalism of a small child in a day to day fashion to protect them. Then they made stupid mistakes, like doing an illegal porn video with a President and his wife, and ended up under the thumb of people who clearly didn’t have their best interests at heart.
On the good side, Connor knew that about the man already. It would make dealing with him later far easier to handle. After all, he wasn’t going to become fr
iends with the man then have to come to terms with how evil he was later. Connor already knew what to expect from him.
Stupidity and the consumption of props if they ever did anything on video. Also, the occasional over the top groping of the staff.
Clarice smiled at him, her lips still tight. Then she spoke anyway. Almost as if no one had warned the poor woman that being around Connor was dangerous if you were going to open your mouth.
“I don’t know why I said that to you. It’s true, but I shouldn’t speak out of turn like that.”
It was probably part of her job to keep her mouth shut, given who she worked for. Leland had pointed out that they were all crooks, after all. When he couldn’t lie about it.
Rather than fill the woman in on his powers, even though she probably deserved to know if they were going to meet more than occasionally, Connor stepped past her quickly, and moved out of range directly. Then he turned back to her, to see she was still watching him. Looking at the blazer he wore, with it’s obvious Etain badge on the front. A thing he needed to change out of, as soon as possible.
It had only been habit that had him putting it on that morning. Most of his life had involved wearing only one style of clothing, after all. At least when he wasn’t in the woods. In that case he normally had on some kind of hunting gear.
“Well, if you ever need to talk about things like that, I should be around. At least I wasn’t sent off to a different school just yet. I got kicked out of the last one, after a dispute with the Headmaster.” That left him feeling poorly, since he’d been a model student, before Headmaster Morris had started coming for him.
The man was dead now though, or so it seemed. A thing that… Actually, pleased him, now that he thought about it for a few moments. Not that he’d had to die for Connor to feel safe. It was simply that the man had tried to come for him, for no reason. That sort of meant the man deserved to die. Framing an innocent kid for that kind of drug possession would have led to decades in lockup. Sure, his father’s money might have bought him out of trouble. If it hadn’t, if he’d been the disposable object lesson of the week, then he could have been in real trouble. All so the man could protect a secret that, if he was going down for a long-term sentence, wouldn’t have stayed that way.
