Chapter 16: You are a sadistic genius
"I wasn't sure you'd come," she said.
"Julia... I'm so..."
She cut him off before he could continue the apology. "I'm not interested in how sorry you are, I think I know that. We'll discuss why you did it later. I need to talk to you about what you did."
"It was terrible..." She stepped toward him and placed her index finger over his lips. He stopped speaking.
"Michael, you did something to me that I can't bring myself to forgive you for at the moment." His heart sank, but she kept speaking. "I don't think you quite understand how... impossible what you did was!"
He had thought of many words for it: disgusting, unconscionable, criminal. 'Impossible' was not one of things he had thought of. "I... I don't understand," he said.
"Okay, there are maybe three of our kind in the world right now who can affect waking minds. There's an Israeli woman who spent thirty years in Mossad. If she concentrates so hard her ears bleed she can make a single person kind of forget she's in a room. She has to stand stock still and she can't have any attention drawn to her or she's fucked. You changed your mother's perceptions of a scene that most have really shocked her so that she couldn't see any of us and didn't remember the event.
"There's also an eighty year old guy in Vermont who can tweak people's unconscious actions a bit. He uses it to get girls to bend over in front of him, or sit with their legs open so he can see their panties. He's in a wheelchair, practically immobile; it's the only way he gets any thrills at all. You, on the other hand, took over my mind, forced me to do something I didn't want to do, and even made me enjoy it."
"I'm sorry, I..."
"Shut up!" she snapped. "The point is, no one with your experience can do what you did. The last time this kind of thing was possible was back in the Dark Ages."
"Huh?"
"Back then people used to believe in magic more. They would believe that sorcerers could control the minds of men, or summon demons, or turn people into frogs. It weakens the barriers between the real world and the astral so things that happen in the astral affect reality more easily. We need to find out how come you can pull stunts like this now and there's only one person I can think of who can help us.
"However, she's gonna have to wait. We have someone to help."
"Kelly!"
"Yep. When she dreams tonight, old Mickey will be back for more unless you stop him."
Michael got up off the bed. "Then I'd better get to it," he said.
Kelly was sitting on the bed in the apartment looking very nervous when Julia appeared behind her. Once more, the black girl was dressed in her Mickey's Bar uniform. "Hi, Kelly," Julia said.
Kelly jerked around to see Julia standing there. "Oh, thank God," she exclaimed. "I thought you weren't coming."
"Don't you worry. We're here, and when Mickey turns up..."
As if on cue, the door crashed open and the shadow figure of Mickey the Stalker was standing there. "Hello, pussies," he growled. "We're gonna have fun tonight."
"Oh yeah," Michael replied, "we sure are." He was standing behind Mickey, holding the Magnum to the back of the shadow's head. "The difference tonight, Mickey old pal, is that this isn't Kelly's nightmare..." The world twisted around them without warning. Suddenly they were in Mickey's Bar, and Mickey was tied, spread-eagled and naked, to the pool table. "...it's yours."
"Did you have to strip him?" Julia said, grimacing. "God he's an ugly son-of-a-bitch!" She glanced at Kelly. "Hey, Kelly, you worked here, right? Maybe you could get me a drink? White wine would be nice." Kelly nodded and went off behind the bar, returning with a tall, cold glass. "Thank you. Now what should we do with tubby here?"
"I have an idea," Michael replied. His hand came up holding the long knife Mickey had used on Kelly. He stepped up to the pool table and rested the edge of the blade under Mickey's balls. "What do you think?"
Julia smiled. "You are a sadistic genius," she said.
Michael pulled the blade sharply upward and Mickey screamed until Julia got sick of it and stuffed a bar towel into his mouth. She leaned over him. "Now, listen to me you fat wanker. This is just a dream, so my friend hasn't really cut off your tiny little dick. Thing is, when you wake up, it'll be just like he has. You won't be able to get it up, and I doubt you'll have much interest in sex anyway."
Michael leaned over, holding the severed prick in another towel. "I can put this back on, but I don't really think I want to. I might be persuaded to do so if..."
"What? Mickey cried, spitting out the towel. The tears were making his ugly face even puffier. It wasn't a pretty sight.
"I'll come and glue this back on, if you go to the police and confess to all the rapes you've committed. Oh, and before you're put away for a good long time, I want you to sign your bar over to Kelly, as a gesture of good will."