Author's Preface:  Because my stories often delve into the past
and there is a lot of confusion as to the timeline of the whole
series, I'd like to clarify a few things.  Taken by what we know
from the first 5 chapters, Colt had gotten his power roughly a
year ago since he got it on June 1st, and it's now May.  As well,
Rick got the power during the Brandy scenario which was
approximately in October, again given by the first few chapters.
They fought 6 months ago, which would put the infamous Colt/Rick
fight in February.  As for Tempest, at the end of 'Tempest and
the Twins' (which I highly recommend to all those who haven't
read the Alien's Gift stand-alone) Jade and Jessica were quite
pregnant with kids about the time the GJL was formed, which would
mean that Tempest had the Gift about 8-9 months before then,
which would put his awakening at 2-3 months before Colt.  I know
that you can figure this all out from careful reading, but I just
thought that it'd be easier if I laid it out before people got
confused.  And now that we're done that, on with the story!  Oh
yeah, mail me at tuxedosam@angelfire.com if you have any comments
or corrections about the timeline, or anything else you want to
say.

Thanks.

Ardin Resolute

ps: Some people have expressed concern about the events in the
characters' pasts that I brush upon.  I WOULD like to write about
everything in chronological order, but I look at the Alien's Gift
story as the "main" storyline and the others are subplots and
side stories and stuff just used to develop the various aspects
of the "main" plot.  When the main storyline is over I may get
around to writing about them.  However, my wish is that other
authors will get involved in the future and fill in these blanks,
like what happened in the Colt/Rick fight and the first battle
with Weapon Alpha and so on so forth.  There is a lot of leeway
to work with and I think that it would be an enjoyable read. 
That's my rant for the day.  Enjoy the story.

Author's Apology: Yeah.. i know, enough already, get on with the
damn story.  Bear with me for a second.  I know i wrote the last
AG in 2 days about half a year ago.  Wow, that seems like a long
time when I write it out.  Since then my writing speed has been
severely hindered for a variety of reasons, namely that I was
finishing up my OAC (final year of highschool in Ontario) year in
January, visited my girlfriend in Sarnia for February, and then
I've been working full time since March.  Also, as I'm new to the
erotic story genre, I still have trouble coming up with sex
scenes that don't suck, so although it may sound stupid, most of
the delay is because I just hit a writer's block at a sex scene
and couldn't get past it.  Again, I apologize to all those who
have been waiting patiently for this chapter.  I hope it lives up
to your expectations.


The Alien's Gift

Chapter 7


~ This time I'm gonna let it all come out This time I'm gonna
stand up and shout I'm gonna do things my way It's my way My way
or the highway ~


Prologue:

It was just a plain brown box.  He put it down and smiled and the
girl in the corner smiled back.  Not that she had a choice of
course, no one ever did.  And yet at the same time, everyone
always did.  She could have chosen not to have been where she
was, wearing what she had, doing what she was doing, at that
particular place and time.  But of course she had.  She could
have chosen not to have approached the good looking young
gentleman at the far table with the ketchup stain near the salt
shaker.  But of course she had.  And she could have chosen not to
be enticed by his flirting, or by his charm, or wit.  But of
course she had.  And so, this was her fate.  He didn't feel bad
at all.  She had chosen her path, or it had been chosen for her.
Either way, she was either a victim of fate or her own ignorance
of the future.  And ignorance deserved consequences.  He
continued on his merry work, whistling as he wound the last wires
and pressed the final buttons.  He looked at the girl one last
time, at her beautiful eyes, her lovely flowing hair and her
luscious smile.  He would miss her.  A little.  Kind of like how
one might miss a piece of steak right before they chewed the last
bite.  She certainly was pretty.  Of course, this wasn't due to
any action on her part.  Any conscious action at any rate.  He
chuckled and put his handiwork down.  Guests were coming.  A
guest at least.  He gave the girl a kiss and she kept smiling. 
Guests had to be treated well.  He patted her on the head.  They
needed good people to serve them and nice objects to look at. 
They derserved the best.  This one especially.  He smiled.  This
one deserved the best.  He had been proficient and unyielding in
his pursuit.  And thusly would this guest be rewarded.  The smile
faded a bit.  He hated winning sometimes.  It just all seemed so
easy.  He shrugged it off.  Maybe he needed a hobby.  That was a
thought.  He kissed the girl one last time and walked off.  Maybe
stamp collecting.  The door slammed.  The girl's eyes were calm.
Her breasts perfect, her hair still in it's perfect shape.  It
was all perfectly arranged for his guest.  After all, they
deserved the best.  It was just a plain brown box.


I.

The mental energies ripped and tore through the warehouse,
sending enough random data in them to permanently blow apart any
mundane's mind if they were nearby.  Trent looked visibly upset,
which, since he very rarely looked upset, meant that the psychic
barrage being sent at him was of enormous power, although not
very localized, and that, he thought to himself, would be the
key.  He'd have to work fast though, the boy, although young, was
very very strong, stronger than a kid of that age should be. 
Already, he was sending out a lot of power to combat what was
being thrown at him and their psychic strands had been battling
it out for a while already in an invisible game of tug of war. 
Not invisible to Trent though, as being a Gifted he saw them
quite clearly.  Slowly he tore down a bit of his mind shield and
created a new and very seperate tendril and wrapped it discretely
around an outer strand of the boy's attack.  He roughly gauged
the amount of energy that was being put into beating him and was
dissapointed to find out that it wasn't enough.  He pulled
harder.  Cmon, he thought, take the damn bait.  He was lucky, the
boy, although powerful, was inexperienced and pulled back just as
hard to regain control.  That was when Trent let go. By the time
the boy knew what was going on it was too late as what he was
pulling against was no longer there and he suffered the mental
equivalent of whiplash.  However Trent wasn't done yet and as he
saw the boy's mind recoil, that one lone psychic tenticle he made
pulled harder on that outer mental string and essentially jarred
the boy's mindshield open.  He grinned, now to end it. The boy
didn't even see it coming this time and in seconds his mind was
smashed open by a sudden rush of all the mental power Trent could
muster, allowing the Chinese teen to take his opponent's mind. 
He quickly seized control and shut down every access the boy had
to the Gift and slowly approached him.  Trent searched the boy's
mind for the area that governed truthfulness and projected into
it to always be truthful to him.  Of course what the boy
percieved would probably not look the same as what he saw.  Trent
had long ago realized that the "Gift" was essentially the ability
to view and manipulate the code of life, as if it were a computer
program.  However, just as most programmers did not directly
affect the 1s and 0s of the software, the Gifted all had their
own interfaces to affect the mind and body.  Some just had to
think it, some had to think in linguistic terms and project that
thought into the mind, and some saw it more physically, with
rooms, and cages and other such physical objects existing in the
mind.  He saw a Windows-like interface, the mind all neatly
ordered with directories and windows for every emotion, feeling,
etc.  To put a thought into a person's subconscious, all he had
to do was form it and put it into the area he wanted, sort of
like a mental "drag and drop."  Which is exactly what he had just
done, drag a command, in this case to be truthful to him, and
drop it into the boy's "window" of truthfulness.  Hopefully it
worked, he wasn't completely sure that it would.  Hell, he wasn't
even sure if anything he did would work.  Trent simply had never
dealt with a Gifted this strong.  He sighed.  There was only one
way to find out.
  "Who are you?"
  The boy looked confused.  "I don't know."
  Trent blinked.  Was the truth command not working?  Was the kid
indeed too strong?  He rechecked again.  Nothing.  It should be
working.  "You don't know?"
  "No.  I can't seem to remember."
  He did a quick scan of the memory area of the boy's brain and
was not a bit surprised to find that there was some memory wipe
done there.  However, what did surprise him, and at the same time
scare him, was that there was no echo at all, no reminant of the
boy's previous identity and memories.  He had seen good memory
wipes before, ones with maybe, 5% or less echoing, and had even
heard of cases where there was less than 2%, but a clean sweep? 
It was impossible in his experience.  Every time a memory was
wiped there would always be residual traces of the original
record, the longer a certain personality or memory had been in a
person's mind, the more of a trace it left.  Which was why if a
person had several memories created in him, a wipe would leave a
small amount of the most recently made, and large amounts of the
original memory.  Of course, everything would have to be rebuilt
from the bottom up, but original memories were completely
impossible to destroy totally.  It was the standard procedure of
fixing victims with several different false memories or personas.
 You'd do a level 1 or 2 mindwipe which filtered out all the fake
memories, leaving you with the original one, that you could work
with and rebuild.  Even a 98% degradation could be dealt with, in
theory even a 99% could, as long as you had something to work
with, it could be done.  Obviously with a 98 or 99% case, more
than one Gifted would probably be needed.  He thought back to
when he and Colt had to work together to repair a girl's mind
during the time they were investingating the OM project.  It had
been touch and go for about an hour before they managed to find
something they could use.  Even then it had been a rare
occurance.  Not even something as powerful as the OM effect could
completely wipe a mind.  What the hell had touched this boy?
  "Who are you working for?"
  He thought he heard the boy scoff, or was it a cough?  "Someone
much more powerful than you."
  Trent winced.  Sometimes he wished that he could limit truthful
to being "truthful without hurting my ego".  "Who exactly?"
  The boy looked like he was about to answer but suddenly his
eyes bulged and Trent had only a split second to realize what was
about to happen and pull out.  He was almost too late as the
delayed mind bomb ignited destroying the most recent memories
inside the victim.  Trent went back in and looked around.  Shit,
there was nothing left.  Why hadn't he seen the bomb?  He had
done prelim scans, nothing was there.  But yet there was. 
Something really powerful HAD been in this guy's head.  He looked
around a bit more.  It was really disturbing to have to leave a
brain dead kid lying in a warehouse.  There had to be a way to
fix this.  He searched through every memory he could but still
nothing.  The false personality was still there though, the
arrogance, the hatred, but no memories whatsoever.  He sighed and
looked around at the now limp body of the kid lying on the
ground.  There was a slight bulge in the back pocket of his
pants.  Trent arched an eyebrow.  He hadn't expected to find any
type of object that could establish the boy's identity.  The
first rule of fixing up a person's mind to suit your purpose was
to remove anything physical that could help in identifying the
person.  But the clothes looked like they belonged to him, and
the wallet, the watch, everything.  Nothing had been changed.  He
wondered, could whoever was behind this not care at all about the
physical world?  What was extremely powerful, could set traps in
a mind that could not be detected, could do complete and total
mindwipes and cared nothing for the physical world but was
extremely adept in the mental?  He wasn't exactly sure he wanted
to know the answer.  He flipped through the wallet.  No driver's
permit obviously, the kid was too young to drive.  Trent kept
scrounging, no health card, no student card, no nothing.  He
swore and threw the damn thing on the ground, when he realized a
small slip of paper he had ignored fell out.  He picked it up. 
Curious, it had the word EMERGENCY written at the top and
underneath had the fire and police department phone numbers and
another number that said MOM'S WORK NUMBER.  Trent pulled out his
cell, hopefully she worked late.  He dialed and waited and was
pleasently surprised when he heard a middle aged female voice
answer.
  "Hello?"
  Normally Trent would have toyed, but this wasn't a normal
situation.  He immediately seized her mind through the
communication device and quickly gleaned information about her. 
She had two sons, one named Bobby and the other named Thomas. 
This was Thomas.  He was 13, liked hockey and jacked off in his
room when he thought nobody was looking.  What?!?  Trent ignored
his gag reflex and kept getting info.  Finally when he was done
he hung up and began doing what he could to fix up the kid's
mind.  It was hard work and he knew that even after he was done
copying and pasting the memories and personality would only be
about 1% complete.  What more could he do?  He thought for a
second and smiled.  This would be awesome.  If it worked.  He had
always been a good programmer before he had become Gifted and
what he needed to do now wasn't much harder.  He began
constructing a small mental program inside Thomas' mind.  For the
next year or so it would take in all the information it could
from his surroundings and from the minds of people in his life
and basically reconstruct his memories.  After that the program
would self destruct.  He made sure that the program would only
take memories relevant to Thomas' life and never do anything but
copy memories.  Trent was fairly impressed when he finished and
the program didn't fall apart.  Finally, he could go home.  He
sent one last command to destroy the false personality in Thomas'
mind and turned to walk away.  He had taken only 3 steps when he
heard the boy speak to him softly from behind.  A voice from a
memory that Trent hadn't even known was there, a program that was
even more advanced than his.  "It's too late, he's almost here."
Then silence, as everything in his mind went dead and Trent's
program kicked in.


II.

The walk back to the house was longer than Trent remembered.  Of
course, all those other times he had done it he hadn't been
worrying about some unknown enemy and he hadn't just finished a
few hours of fighting a crazed super Gifted kid.  It was cold
tonight.  Strange for May weather in Toronto.  He adjusted his
body temperature resistance to account for the extra few minus
degrees and pulled up his jacket just to be safe.  God, life just
kept getting worse didn't it?  What WAS this 'him' that the kid
referred to?  Was there really something that was that powerful
out there?  He had seen a lot in the past year since he had
realized he had the Gift.  He had met a lot of very powerful
individuals, and had had a lot of experience in the use of the
Gift.  In his experience, the most powerful of the Gifted was
Colt, and whether Colt was stronger than Trent was an open
question.  Colt had never been able to beat him.  And in the same
way he had never been able to beat Colt.  Of course, most of
their battles had been interrupted by circumstances or enemies
but usually they would already have been at a stalemate at that
point.  It wasn't just pure power that factored into a battle, it
also had to do with adeptness at different areas of using the
Gift as well as stamina and experience.  In his experience, the
male gender seemed to hold the edge in the stamina department
while the female's had the edge in the skill part.  Although he
and Colt were matched in stamina, Colt had more experience and
greater overpowering strength, while Trent had an edge where
reaction times and technique came in.  So in any fight they would
fight to a stalemate, the weaknesses balanced out any edge their
strengths might have given them.  It all came down to their
awakening stories.  He didn't know about Colt's but he figured it
was like most of the Gifted, waking up one day and realizing that
you had power.  Strength was slowly built through that and they
tended to exercise it often, thus flexing it like a muscle and
making it stronger, whether you used it to get a girl in bed with
you or just to make a dog into a cat, you were using it.  And
because young Gifteds tended to abuse their powers they had
plenty of practice and thus built up their strength considerably.
 Trent's awakening was a trial by fire.  He had been forced to
use his ability to keep not only himself but his entire school
from being taken over by a fairly powerful Gifted.  The first
things he learnt was not how to make breasts grow but how to
create a mindshield to withstand blow after blow of mental
energy.  Because of this he had to learn how to fight a stronger
opponent without much power.  He figured out ways to bypass walls
and shields and how to dodge instead of absorb mental hits.  It
was do or die and he did.  He sighed.  But still, neither Colt
nor him, nor both of them combined could do any of the things he
had just witnessed with the boy.  Yes, it was possible to hide
something inside the mind but to make it completely invisible? 
It couldn't be done.  Could it?  He was still pondering this when
the ground suddenly rushing up at him woke him from his thoughts
just in time to block the fall with an arm.  He got up and
realized that he had almost tripped on the stairs to his house. 
Trent chuckled and pulled out his keys, opened the door and
walked in.  He was immediately hit by a small truck.  At least it
felt like a small truck, if small trucks had cute perky breasts
and planted kisses all over your face.  He looked up and grinned.
 "Hey honey.  You mind if you let me close the door first?  We
wouldn't want people thinking this was an open invitation."
  Amy smiled sweetly and licked his mouth with her naughty
tongue.  "Hmm... Maybe we should invite them?"
  Trent chuckled.  "Anyone in mind?"
  "Hmm... maybe that guy who works at the convenience store, I'd
love to have him fuck me."
  "He'd never satisfy you."  He smirked, she loved to try to make
him jealous.  He didn't mind, Trent knew that she loved him and
only him, a true emotion she had that he had merely made sure
wouldn't fade.
  She made a fake pout.  "I know, you'd just turn his dick into a
2-incher."
  "It's for your own good honey."
  "So you always tell me.  You're absolutely no fun."
  Slowly he got himself back up and locked the door.  "I'm not? 
Well then I guess you wouldn't want to have me in bed tonight
right?  Since I'm 'absolutely no fun.'"
  Amy Sanders made small whining noises.  "You know I'm kidding
sweetie."
  "Do I?"  He smiled devilishly, he could sense how horny she was
and knew that she could never be satisfied with anyone but him. 
It was something he had done a long time ago, and she knew it,
though she was completely ok with it seeing as he was the only
one she loved.
  "You're not being serious right?  I need you... soooo bad." 
She moaned longingly, it was the truth, she had been thinking
about him the whole day.  Every guy she saw reminded of him and
she was so wet that it could be seen right through her jeans if
anyone was looking.
  Trent grinned, it was fun teasing her sometimes.  What made it
better of course was that she really did want and love him.  He
didn't make her feel like this.  Trent and Amy had become a
couple shortly after he got the Gift and he had fallen for her in
a way he had for no one else.  She understood him completely and
he in turn understood her.  They were two halves of the same soul
joined together through chance or destiny.  When he decided to
make a life for himself, he had asked her to come with him and
she agreed.  He did very little with his power on her and nothing
that was without her permission.  He had made her breasts a
little bigger, a bit perkier and made her figure a little better,
as well he had enhanced her love for him to make sure she would
never leave.  She was completely ok with this because they would
be together and she didn't mind looking a little better or being
more in love with him, and she knew that he'd never leave her. 
Whether or not that feeling was artificial or not, she didn't
know and she didn't care, she liked it.  She was the reason that
he had stopped his war on society, and why he had told Colt that
he wouldn't be "abusing" his power anymore.  Of course this
wasn't completely true, and he didn't care if Colt would try to
stop him, but at least it got the GJL off his back.  And of
course, giving him more time to do stuff he liked, like Amy.  He
looked back at the beauty he held in his arms.  "How bad do you
want me?"
  She looked like she was ready to burst.  "Soooo badly, please
take me.  I need you in me.  Please fuck me."
  He kissed her and she kissed back hungrily.  "Wouldn't you
rather that guy who works at the convenience store?"
  "Nooo...  I was just joking.  He's nothing compared to you.  I
only want you.  You're the only person I love and the only person
I lust after.  Please fuck me, I've waited the whole day!"
  "So if you can hold out that long, then it's ok for you to wait
a little longer right?"
  Amy's eyes looked like they were ready to cry.  "Please don't
make me wait anymore, I need you.  Please don't make me wait any
longer!!!"
  Trent's cock was already trying to break out of his pants but
he tried to hold in the urge to ram his growing rod up her cunt.
"Just wait on the couch a minute ok dear?  I've got to make a
call."
  She nodded like an anxious puppy and sat with her legs tightly
together on the couch trying not to explode out of horniness as
he charged his cell and picked up the regular phone to make his
call.  "Please don't be long."
  "I'll try not to."  He managed to mutter before the person on
the other line picked up.  "Oh hey.  Yeah, can I talk to Mrs.
Sanders please?"  Amy's mom had called earlier in the week and he
had kept forgetting to call her back.  As per Amy's request he
had refrained from messing too much with any of her family or
friend's minds.  In her mother's case, Trent had only made her ok
with him moving in with Amy in a new home and not worry about
their financial or academic situation.  She still had all those
other worries and would probably freak out if she knew that he
was her daughter had become his cock-hungry slut, wanting him
inside all of her orifices all the time.  "Hey Mrs. Sanders,
why'd you call?  Uh huh, yeah, yeah that is a problem." He was
about to say more when a very pleasent feeling began eminating
from his crotch.  He looked down to see that Amy and pulled his
hard cock out of his pants and had her beautiful lips wrapped
around it.  She was an expert cocksucker and was amazingly good
at deep throating him, which she was doing at that very moment. 
He tried to supress a moan as he assured her mom that he and Amy
were behaving properly and not fucking like rabbits (more like
horny teenagers he thought).  She pulled back out and teased his
pisshole with her tongue and then deepthroated him again.  Trent
managed to mutter a very quick "umokihaftagobye" and slam down
the phone before he came with a loud groan.  His hot cum shot out
into Amy's accepting mouth and she licked and sucked every drop
from him trying to take it all, which of course she couldn't and
some ended up dripping down the sides of her mouth.  He looked
down at her.  She was quite a sight with her cheeks full of cum
and some dribbling out.  She looked like a sex-crazed chipmunk. 
A very cute sex-crazed chipmunk that he wanted to fuck.
  "That was a very underhanded thing to do young lady."  He said
sternly.
  She hung her head in shame.  "I know.  I've been very naughty."
  "Yes you have, I think you need to be punished."
  Amy giggled and nodded.  "Oh yes definitely, severely
punished."
  He gave her a quick kiss.  "All right young lady, go to your
room, I'll be right up to discipline you."  The last few words
were given in a tone of voice that tried to be firm but belayed
the real meaning.
  She moaned at that and ran up, taking the stairs 2 at a time. 
Trent laughed inwardly and walked upwards.  The day may have been
exciting, but it wouldn't even compare to the night.


III.

Amy's moans filled the two-story house as Trent pumped in and out
of her, sinking all six inches into her.  Originally he had
wanted to make his cock bigger, but Amy had stopped him because
in her words she loved him as him and didn't want him to think he
had to change himself.  So instead she had him make her
completely crave those six inches and never want anything bigger
or smaller. And crave it she did with all her being and soul.  He
of course did make himself a bit thicker, but she didn't have to
know that.  Her moans were escalating now, signalling her
impending climax.  He pulled out and was about to slam home her
orgasm when he felt a sudden dampening in the air.  It wasn't a
physical effect, no humidity was actually rising, it was a
dampening in his mind.  The feeling of closeness, of oneness with
the Gift was fading.  It was like being torn from a lover and
having her put a sea away from you.  He knew what this meant too.
 He was going to be dead very very soon if he didn't move. 
Quickly, Trent pulled out of Amy and pushed her off the bed
causing her to make a small dissapointed squeal as he too, rolled
off.  The crashing sound was immediate and the ceiling gave in as
the massive half-dog, half-thing-from-hell came barrelling down
onto the bed, claws slashing at where Trent would have been.  It
spun quickly to face where Trent was quickly pulling up his
boxers and lunged.  The Gifted had only enough time to roll out
of the way as the beast smashed into the dresser and got right
back up to attack once again.  He swore under his breath.  He
hated Seekers.  Of all the foes and creations he had faced in his
brief, yet eventful, Gifted life, Seekers were the worst.  He had
no idea who created them, only that it was by a group that hated
Gifted's, possibly in the government, possibly not. The only man
who could have told him that information shot himself when he had
arrived at the lab.  It was the same group behind the OM project,
he knew that much from what he had found on the computers, but
beyond that he knew nothing about the Seekers' origins.  Of
course, he knew much more about the Seekers.  They were designed
to destroy Gifteds, to exploit the one weakness they all shared,
the human flesh and bone.  What exactly they were he wasn't sure.
 It had dog like features in that it had a snout, teeth, ears,
and 4 legs, but it's hide was hard and rough and it's claws were
at least a few inches long and from experience he knew it could
tear a person to pieces in seconds.  The worst part about Seekers
was that they blocked a Gifted's access to his or her power.  Not
only that but it would break down any muscular development they
had created using the Gift, thus making them easy prey for it's
superior physiology.  They were created with a special sense for
seeking out people who had the Gift and within a few kilometres
of a Gifted they would know where to look.
  It lunged and Trent managed again barely to move out of the
way.  Damn, and he had spent so much effort making sure that no
one knew where he was.  He knew from experience that a Seeker had
inside itself an electronic device that would give it's location
once it found a Gifted.  However he knew that whether by design
or a programmer's error, the device went off exactly 10 minutes
after a direct sighting.  Which meant he had about 9 minutes to
kill the thing and remove the device.  He leapt as it lunged at
his legs.  9 minutes assuming he was alive.  He dashed to the
window and vaulted out as the Seeker came careening after.  Armed
in only his boxers, Trent dashed through the empty night streets
as he tried his best to ignore the abnormally cold May weather. 
If worst came to worst, he wanted that fucking beast as far away
from Amy as possible when the damn signal went off.  He kept
running and looked behind him to see how far the monster was from
him.  His face fell.  The thing was gaining fast.  Trent was
lucky already that he was fast without having to gift-enhance his
body (which he was incapable of for fights) and at school he was
always on the track team, or would be if he cared enough to join.
 He kept running, that certain incident he had been involved in
in the past didn't hurt his chances in this fight either.  He
wasn't built of course, he was on the thin side of a medium build
and didn't have broad muscles but he was deceptively strong and
agile.  The bridge was up ahead.  He panted some, asthma was
something he had forgotten he had thanks to the Gift.  C'mon,
ignore the pain he thought to himself, you have about 7 minutes
to pull another miracle out of your hat against one of those
demons.  Suddenly he felt the air knocked out of him as the
Seeker pounced on him and knocked him to the ground. 
Instinctively he rolled, saving himself from being gutted right
there as he managed to put himself some 2 feet away from the
beast.  He got up and tried not to feel the pain in his feet, or
his appendages from the roll.  It was bad enough that he had to
run on asphalt without anything on his feet, but to be fighting
something like this in nothing but boxers?  The victory sex with
Amy afterwards had better be good.  The Seeker lunged at him
again and this time being ready for it, he spun around and caught
it under the jaw with a very nice looking thrust kick.  It hit
the ground and got back up unfazed.  He groaned.  This was gonna
suck.  5 minutes.  It bared it's teeth and dove at him again, he
dove back, cutting impact time down to something it had not
expected and the result was a bad-looking, but effective tackle
which slammed Trent and the dog-thing into the ground, with Trent
on top, and a claw stuck deep in his arm.  He tried not to think
about it.  Another thing about Seekers was that any wounds it
inflicted left a trace compound of the same kind coursing through
it's body, but of weaker magnitude.  This compound would stop a
Gifted from healing that wound using the Gift.  He would just
have to let his body fix this on it's own.  He sighed, at least
it hadn't broken any of his bones like last time.  Rolling on to
his back, Trent steadied both feet on the chest of the Seeker and
ignored the slashing of claws across his legs and the powerful
jaws kept just inches from his face by his arms.  With one huge
two-footed kick he blasted the monster off his prone body and saw
it land with a satisfying thump on the ground a little away.  He
got up and saw too late that it had already recovered and was yet
again attacking him.  As he was jumping to the side to dodge he
heard the car horn and felt a huge pain shoot through his body as
he was hit by a few tons of steel.  The car stopped and the
driver was about to get out when the Seeker jumped through the 
vehicle's back windshield, through the driver and out through the
front windshield to get to Trent. The guy was definitely dead
now.  Trent tried to get up but couldn't.  Fuck.  His spine was
broken, he couldn't feel his legs.  The Seeker hunched over his
body and drooled in anticipation of the kill.  It beared his
fangs, opened it's jaws and went down for blood.  Which it would
have had had Trent not just stuffed a huge shard of glass up the
top of it's mouth and through it's brain.  It's jaws came down
hard but slacked off before they got to Trent's jugular and the
rest of the animal came tumbling down after it, dead.  He sighed
in relief and quickly felt the Gift returning to him.  Within
seconds he had healed his spinal column and was on his knees
tearing at the chest of the dead beast, looking for the device. 
It took him another costly minute to find it and crush it.  He
looked at his watch.  9 minutes and 55 seconds had passed.
  He laid back for a moment, ignoring the cold, ignoring the pain
and ignoring the fact that he was a half-naked Chinese teen lying
in the streets of Toronto in the still of night next to a
destroyed car and a dead dog-thing.  9 minutes and 55 seconds. 
He laughed.  True heroic fashion. Slowly, when he finally felt he
had the energy to, Trent pulled himself up and examined the car
wreckage.  He ignored the Seeker carcass as he knew that in a few
minutes it would disintigrate anyways.  His hand felt around the
body of the dead guy in the car.  There was nothing he could do
about the body, the Gift had no affect against someone hurt by
the Seeker.  However, the guy's heart had stopped not because of
a Seeker wound, but because of the loss of blood.  Slowly Trent
began to resurrect his vital systems and manipulated the cellular
structure to preserve those particular areas.  He patched
together the man as best he could then, finding a pen and a piece
of paper in the car, wrote a small note for the police officers
who found him to give the note to the doctors who would treat
him.  The note commanded them to give him the best possible help
and not wonder why his brain and heart were still working.  Then
he imbedded the thought commands into the note and left it on the
windshield.  He found a cell inside the car and dialed 911, told
them where the accident was, hung up and began walking back home.
  When Trent finally got back, he found his bedroom still in a
mess and Amy lying on the ground with a really sad expression on
her face.  He walked up to her and held her gently.  "You don't
have to worry hun, I'm ok."
  She looked at him, saw his bloodied body, his cuts, wounds and
his exaustion, and with big sad puppy dog eyes and a very big
pout whined "I didn't get to cum!"


IV.

"Signal lock in 30 seconds. 29... 28..."  The systems operator's
voice sounding clear over the PA system of the hustling and
bustling control room brought everybody's attention back up to
the oversized map that was sitting on the big screen at the
front.  Col. Sandra Rosen leaned casually against the back wall
of the main room in a secret complex buried under Lake Ontario
and observed the scene playing out around her.  Things were
running smoothly, as was expected in an outfit like the one she
was commanding.  Soon another Gifted would be found and rendered
harmless, just like so many others her team had gotten their
hands on.  She smiled.  And if the intelligence reports were
correct, she would have her hands on one of the big 5, the top 5
most powerful and therefore dangerous Gifteds.  She flipped
through the file in her hands.  Trent was someone she had tried
to get her hands on before and failed.  He hadn't known it, but
she and her team had just missed him and Colt by a few metres
when they left the primary OM project building way back when. 
The errant shot that Trent hadn't had time to worry about then
had indeed been fired by her.  She sighed, if only he hadn't bent
down to pick up that data chip.  It didn't matter anymore though,
she was about to make up for that mistake.  From the bio monitor
of the Seeker that she had set loose on Southern Ontario, she saw
that it was currently fighting as it's blood pressure and all
that was fairly high.  Soon the signal would come through and
they'd know where the guy was and then, then another threat to
the mundanes of the world would be eliminated.
  "10... 9... 8..." She smiled slowly and tried to restrain
herself from gripping too hard on the folder in her hands.  This
was going to be it. "7... 6..." The count stopped.  She stared.
What happened?  Then the voice went over the PA again.  "Signal
recieved, 5 seconds ahead of schedule."   Sandra grinned.  The
dot on the map flashed distinctively over the northern Greater
Toronto Area.  She had him.  Quickly her walkie-talkie flashed
into her hand from it's previous home at the leather belt around
her waste.  She switched it on and ignored the brief static that
erupted from it.
  "Harry, this is Colonel Rosen, get the troops ready, we've got
him."
  Nothing.
  She stared at the device and shook it a couple of times. 
"Harry?"
  Again, silence greeted her.  What the hell was going on?  She
muttered several obscene words in various languages and began
stalking to the exit door of the room.  That idiot was probably
fucking one of the privates (no pun intended) again.  She would
have to give him hell for this one.  Her hand grabbed the knob
and swung the door open as she was ready to charge right out to
destroy a certain Lt. Harold Thompson, which apparently wasn't
neccesary as his dead body came tumbling out of the now-open
doorway.  She gasped as she saw his blank eyes staring at her
then his stiff body flop to the floor.  Brain fried.  Shit.  She
was about to back away when she realized she couldn't move. 
Slowly, not on her own free will, her eyes moved up from the dead
body on the floor to rest upon a man in his 20s standing in front
of her.  His pitch black trenchcoat seemed to absorb all the
light in the room, creating an illusion of perfect darkness.  He
smiled, it wasn't a pleasent smile.  Calmly a hand lifted and
brushed back a jet black strand of hair that had somehow managed
to come loose from his long ponytail.  She tried to swallow, but
since she couldn't move a muscle, it didn't really work.
  He was a nightmare borne into reality, a wraith in the night
she had tried to destroy in the past.  But it hadn't worked then,
and he was here now.  She had never thought this could happen. 
She was in the 3rd most secure installation in the northern
hemisphere.  It was all because of him that she was here anyways.
 His corruption of her sister had caused her hatred of Gifteds
and been the reason she had joined up with this organization and
subsequently, participated in a number of very heated chases to
track him down.  She had seen his handiwork, seen his large harem
of horny subservient girls, and she had even talked to a few. 
Even amoung the most sadistic of all the Gifted's she knew, he
stood out as a man amoungst boys.  It wasn't just that he
enslaved girls, or that he loved fucking with people's minds and
personalities, all of those idiot Gifteds did that.  He was
beyond simple mischief, he was cold, calculating, he laid traps,
counter-measures, and he didn't appreciate being hunted. 
Inwardly she screamed, wishing that it would somehow break
through to the outside world.  She had dreamt about him on
occasion, nightmares, a hellish fantasy she would wake up crying
from, and now they were a reality.  Her demon, her sister's
violater, her living nightmare that while she had so fervently
pursued she had inwardly dreaded beyond all else, was here.
  It was funny, she had faced off against so many evils in her
life, so many Gifteds had she destroyed, and she had never once
been afraid.  She had even been on the brink of a mindwipe
against Trent and later Colt.  Not only had she escaped both
fates, she had never once lost her cool, never once been afraid.
She had always known fear though.  It was like a passing thought,
something you could never get your hands on.  She had seen it
well enough in her dreams.  A dark figure in the shadows reaching
out for her.  A faceless devil, a faceless foe, something she
could not kill with guns or rays.  She had always thought it
merely a paranoid thought, nothing could make her afraid. 
Somehow confronting the man in front of her now had never worried
her.  Then again, it had always been over some sort of media
device which was properly secured and screened.  It had never
been face to face.  And now she looked into his dark eyes, saw
that dreaded smile and felt that ever beckoning hand of fear. 
The figure had a face, and it was here now.  She wanted to
scream, to swear, but only one word came to mind and only one
word could be spoken.  The word that described her terror, the
name she gave to evil.
  "Tristian."


V.

Of course, the gravity of the whole situation had not escaped
Tristian either.  He knew exactly what today meant.  Revenge.  He
had been chased down by this damn organization long enough, and
especially by Rosen.  She deserved a fate far worse than her
sister had gotten, far far worse.  At least her sister hadn't
burnt his mansion down, nor shot a bullet through his skull. He
smiled cruelly at the sight of the frightened woman in front of
him.  This was going to be sweet.  "Why colonel, aren't you happy
to see me?"  Silence, he grinned, of course, she couldn't answer.
 Calmly he released his hold on her speech abilities.  He left
her standing, while strolling calmly around the building
observing the commotion around him.  No one moved to stop him, no
one could... move that is, he had taken control of the bodies of
every person in the room.  There was a peculiar silence.  He
turned around and glared at Sandra.  "Well, you're being rude
aren't you?  Shouldn't you be trying to make conversation?  You
know, distract the bad guy into making a mistake?"
  She bit her lip in stubborness, she wasn't about to play his
mind games.
  Tristian grinned, defiance wasn't a word in his dictionary. 
"Ok then Colonel, if you want to play it that way.  I'll do the
talking for both of us, from now on until I tell you to stop, you
must say whatever you want to say to me, you can't hold anything
back, but I don't want to hear every fucking thought going
through your mind?  Got it?  Now, do you have any idea why I'm
here?"
  She tried to stop the words from escaping her lips, but failed
miserably.  "Revenge?"
  He chuckled at her inability to resist, but his tone was far
from amicable.  "Not revenge, justice.  You and your organization
have caused me quite a lot of pain you know that?  I've had to
move several times since you people keep burning down the houses
I occupy.  And what's with deprogramming my girls?  It's taken me
quite a lot of effort to reprogram them, and with all the added
security I've put into their minds, the process takes even
longer.  On top of that, you've left me on the edge of death
quite a number of times thanks to your... toys."  He said the
word with the disgust of a man who respected open combat much
more than the use of weapons.  "And finally, you continue to
pursue me and beyond that, mock me anytime we get a chance to
talk over some form of communication which you always scramble
with, again, your toys.  So yes, I DO indeed have a bone to pick
with you fuckheads and especially, my dear Sandra, with you, the
queen bitch of this organization for the entire Eastern
seaboard."  The expression on her face was priceless.  "Oh come
now, did you think your little secret club is THAT good that I
couldn't crack your little codes and databases?  Arrogance
doesn't become you.  No wonder I got in so easily.  Did you think
that being under a lake would stop me?  I'd go through solid rock
if it meant you and this penny-ante outfit's destruction.  Don't
get me wrong, I have nothing against who you work for.  Nor do I
care that you're going around trying to exterminate us Gifteds,
hell, I've exterminated my fair share, so I'm not going to be all
'it's nothing personal', it's VERY personal.  You fucked with me,
you fucked with my life, the life I was trying to build, the life
I FUCKING DESERVE!  You've done everything up to try to kill me.
Trust me, this is very personal.  Normally, I'm a nice guy, I try
to help out, give back to the community, make a few nice happy
couples here and there.  Yes, I turn a few girls into sluts, and
yes, I do have my own personal harem, including your lovely and
very insatiable sister, Mellissa.  But those that are turned into
sluts, or even into my slaves, deserve it.  They are atoning for
their sins.  See, I'm not a bad guy, I don't like to do bad
things, but with you assholes, I have no choice.  If I am a
monster, it's because you've made me a monster.  So if you're
wondering if I plan to kill you, or rape you or have you turn
into a slut or something like that, you're damn right I will.  I
WILL rape you, I WILL subjegate you to unending humiation and
yes, finally when all is said and done, when your mind and body
are both completely burnt out and you would like nothing more
than to give yourself totally to me, I WILL KILL YOU.  And not
simply kill you, for that would be a fate far, far too lenient, I
will drag out your death, with every Gifted ounce of strength I
have, I will make your skin boil, your eyes melt, or whatever
else I've figured out by then.  You know that Greek God who
pissed everyone off and had to be chained up with a raven eating
at his liver each day, and each night the liver would grow back
for the raven?  That will seem like a good fuck compared to what
I promise to do to you."
  Sandra wanted to scream again, not at what would be happening
to her, she had resigned herself to that fate a long time ago,
but at the fact that she was completely helpless in her own body,
a feeling that was worse than anything she had ever felt, or
thought she would feel.  He was quite the maniacal villain,
complete with evil villain ranting and all.  She wanted to reach
her hand just 2 inches lower, get the gun from its holster at her
waist and put lead through his brain, but instead all she could
do was talk to him, like he commanded.  "What'd my sister ever do
to you?  How can anyone deserve what you've done to them?"
  "How can anyone deserve what you've done to them?"  His voice
was high-pitched and mocking.  "Oh no Mr. Tempest, you've turned
a bunch of cock-teases, who flaunt their popularity and looks to
get through life into a bunch of cock-hungry-sluts who have to
USE their looks and bodies to get them through their life.  How
terrible, how cruel..."  The mocking tone stopped abruptly,
replaced by his dead-serious, 'I will kill you' one.  "How...
utterly... fitting."  He turned to look at her.  "Your sister was
a sophomore at a highschool when I met her.  She was a
cheerleader, but I'm sure you knew that already, your family was
probably gushing over her for making the team."  He paused for
effect.  "Team."  Tristian repeated the word with contempt. 
"They make it sound like it's an actual sport that requires
skill.  Yeah, lots of skill there, shaking tits and ass.  Lots of
girls do it at strip bars and you don't see their mommies and
daddies jumping for joy.  Her second year and she was fitting in
quite nicely.  I imagine, from the way she was acting, trying so
hard to belong to that elite group of people at the top of the
social heirarchy, that she wasn't very popular as a freshman.  No
doubt she hadn't hit puberty yet, because with a body like that,
it would be hard not to pick up some horny brain-dead jock who
wanted a nice piece of innocent, virgin tail.  Let me guess, as a
freshman, she was geeky looking, probably wore glasses or
something, as she had contacts when I met her.  She had an acne
problem, those growing pains can be something, and was short and
flat.  Maybe she had a weight problem, or some abnormal growth
sticking off the side of her head."  He gazed into Sandra's eyes,
delving for a response.  "No?  Ok, maybe just the flatness, acne
and glasses.  Nothing to be proud of obviously.  But also, it's
nothing to be ashamed of.  Still, she, like a lot of other girls
in this wretched society, was ashamed, very ashamed.  Hated her
body no doubt.  Was depressed, jealous, that sorta thing?  Her
friends from grade school probably all had breasts and boyfriends
already, and where did that leave poor Melissa?  Nowhere I bet,
wishing that she had friends.  Oh, I'm sure she had a few people
that wanted to be her friends, and I'm sure she hung out with
them, but I bet inwardly, she never truly liked them.  They were
people who weren't popular, who weren't good looking or
attractive.  They were people who didn't play sports, or had big
muscles, or nice cars, or any cars.  People like me.  She was
probably wishing she had popular friends, ignoring her true ones.
 Until one day, more than likely over the summer break, a miracle
happened.  She blossomed, practically over night."  Sandra opened
her mouth to protest, possibly at the accuracy or lack thereof of
the story but Tempest shut her up with a single mental command.
"I'm telling the story." he grumbled angrily.  "Now I imagine she
was quite enthused about this sudden change in her efortune.  She
probably was looking in the mirror every day, checking herself
out, seeing how she looked.  Her skin probably started clearing
up too, she was becoming what she wanted, and acting like she
deserved this.  I bet she bugged your parents about getting
contacts too and new clothes.  No doubt she tried to change her
image completely.  When school started again, she was a totally
different person.  She wanted to hang at the top, to date the
quarterbacks, the running backs, the halfbacks, the hunchbacks,
whatever, but the thing was that she more than likely didn't want
to lose her virginity.  Yet, she liked the attention, so she
would flaunt her T&A and get herself the status she wanted but
pull back from it at the last second.  A veritable "I'm saving
myself for marriage" cock-tease.  And you'd THINK that she would
at least thank her REAL friends for standing by her while she was
unpopular, but of course, she'd just ignore them and pretend they
never existed.  So don't tell me she did not deserve this.  She
practically begged for it."
  Sandra's speaking ability returned with a bang at that.  "You
asshole!!! How could you possibly say she deserved any of it!? 
She was a sweet, caring girl!  She was so nice, she helped in a
lot of charity drives.  Mellissa was pure and chaste, you are
just a jealous mother-fucker because of your loser childhood."
  He forbid her to say anymore.  "It's hardly jealousy my dear. 
Far from actually.  I've gotten over my past.  I've realized that
it is indeed what is inside that counts.  But your sister will
never realize these things.  She thinks she's on top of the world
because of her looks and her body.  She thinks that her body will
get her nothing but happiness.  So I have granted her that wish.
She lives and dies on that body now.  Her mind is nothing more
than a tool to figure out how to pleasure people with, namely me.
 She thinks that her body will get her happiness, it does now. 
All she wants is sex, all she craves is sex.  She teased.  Well,
if she wasn't willing to give it she should never have offered. 
You see, it's not jealousy, or revenge that this is all about,
but justice.  They want perfect bodies, I've given it to them. 
They treasured it above intelligence and above personality, and
so those are controlled by me now since they think those
qualities have no value.  And you have tormented me for this,
chased me across half of the civilized world and fought me
through the other half.  And so, I will have my justice at last
Sandra."  He brushed back some of her long, light brown hair that
had broken free of it's bun.  Tristian grinned evily.  "Your
trial is about to begin my darling, and in my court, I am judge,
jury and executioner."


VI.

The couch bumped the wall, scraping a small piece of paint off
it.  Rick sighed, these movers were so clumsy.
  "And where would you like this sir?"
  Still looking at the mark on the wall the teenage boy waved his
hand absentmindedly at part of his living room floor.  "Over
there."  There really wasn't much need to say exactly where, he
had already sent the commands through the two simple words of
"over there."  It was yet another ability he had discovered
recently.  Oh yeah, he was damn ready for Colt.
  Moving quickly, the movers finished positioning the couch and
left after being paid by Rick.  He sighed, relieved, as he shut
the door behind them.  At least they didn't accidentally walk
into his wall trying to leave.  He shoved his wallet back into
his pants and looked around his newly acquired home.  Normally,
he wouldn't have had to use money at all as he could simply make
people do things he wanted, but the more he used his gift on
people, the easier he'd be to track down, and this close to Colt,
he didn't want to take that risk.  All another Gifted had to do
was spot that a mover's mind had been tampered with and figure
out where that mover had been and then Rick would be sunk. 
Besides, he had all the money he wanted, having gotten his bank
account sufficiently beefed after sending a few emails laced with
gift-encoded messages to some very rich CEOs of high-profile
companies.  After Colt had tracked him down on that fateful day,
he had learnt to be smart about covering up his tracks as well as
how to make a trail too complex for someone to trace it back to
him.  He looked around.  At least the place looked great, barring
that little mark in the corner of course.  He disliked hotels and
motels, they all seemed so impersonal and used and so he tried
not to stay in them if he didn't have to.  So he had looked
around and found a nice spacious apartment in the city and having
unlimited funds, had bought it.  He was now in shooting range of
Colt, but unfortunately had no idea where the guy was.  Since
arriving in the state earlier in the day, Rick had been trying to
find some idea of he was, but still, nothing.  He knew he was in
this area though, the address of the GJL wasn't hard to obtain
since they WERE a good guy group and thus accessible to anyone
who wanted their help.  But where exactly Colt lived was a
mystery.  He shrugged in resignation.  He would just have to pay
the GJL headquarters a visit later.  A yawn escaped from him. 
Tommorow.  He'd go find them tommorow.  For now, what he needed
was some rest and relaxation.  Rick grinned, and he knew just how
to do that. ***
  A half-hour later, the average looking teenager with the above
average mental powers found himself wandering the streets,
observing the hustle and bustle of a city settling in for the
night.  Where to go, he wondered.  Where would be the best place
to start looking for girls for his new harem?  Suddenly his eyes
focussed on a building not too far a way.  A church.  What an
ironic place to start looking.  He laughed aloud.  This was going
to be very pleasent indeed.
  From the sign outside the door it seemed there was a youth
group meeting going on inside.  Even better he thought.  Calmly,
acting like he owned the place, Rick strolled into the building.
Of course, in his opinion, he DID own the place.  After all that
training, God Himself couldn't be more powerful.  Now all he had
to do was find Colt.  But first, he needed to get some relief.
  Searching quickly through the darkened building, Rick spotted a
door with a bit of light streaming from under it.  He quickly
scanned through the door and found out that there were a number
of guys and girls on the other side.  Quickly he commanded them
not to pay any attention to him and he calmly strolled in. 
Grinning from ear to ear, Rick casually sat on the table in the
room and listened in on the discussion going on.  Of course, in
true hollywood cliche fashion it had to be about abstinance and
how God was most important and not sex.  He laughed, this was
gonna be great.  The two people that seemed to be in charge were
a guy and a girl.  Both looked to be about 20 or so, while the
others were younger.  He observed them a bit longer and began to
learn stuff about them.  Normally he would have just scanned them
all but it was important to practice functioning without the
Gift, just in case he ever needed to do without it.
  The leaders apparently were named John and Tracy.  Both, he
noted, had a bit of a know-it-all air to them and both seemed to
feel that they were the most moral people on the planet.  Tracy
was a thin, stick like brunette with a flat chest and a quick
scan revealed that she needed this belief that she was better
than others to vindicate herself.  She was also engaged to John,
and they had a very boring yet "moral" relationship.  He would
change that obviously.  The discussion soon ended, and he sat in
interest watching the social interaction between the teens in the
room.  The girls he realized were all rather attractive.  There
was Cassie, a slender blonde with perky breasts who seemed to be
most popular girl in the room and also the most annoying because
she knew it.  Andrea was a small oriental girl with short cropped
hair and small body proportions in general.  Then there was Cindy
who was larger than the other two width wise and had the biggest
breasts in the room, though she wasn't all that attractive.
  Many of the guys and girls flirted shamelessly with each other
and he noticed that the guys seemed to think of themselves as big
shots.  Rick decided to thicken the plot that was to come and
made one of the girls ask what people would do if they were
raped.  The guys all bravely said that they'd protect the girls
as the girls said that how horrible it'd be and that they'd only
enjoy sex with the one they were truly in love with.  He let it
continue a bit more as they flirted and talked of God and
morality and what not.  After a while of this, Rick got off from
his perch on the table and walked out the door, made himself
visible to them again and walked back in calmly.


VII.

Rick groaned inwardly in annoyance, a feeling that had long since
replaced anger or fear as since he had gotten the Gift nothing
could bring back those feelings again.  Well, maybe Colt.  But
this wasn't the time to be thinking about him.  It had seemed so
simple.  Walk in, cause mayhem, have great sex, leave.  Well,
simple if Cassie hadn't instantly become attracted to him and
decide to flirt with him and talk his friggin ear off.  But of
course, being the stupid popular bitch that she was, it had
happened.  He hated such people.  He had had his fill of them in
highschool, but it was by just listening to them flirt with
others, now that he was right in the line of fire, he realized,
it was so much worse.  He had hoped to be able to play it along
for a while, make it more interesting, but at this point, he
couldn't stand it anymore.  "Shut the fuck up bitch, that mouth
has better uses."
  Silence.  He sighed in relief.  About goddamned time too. 
Although everybody staring at him wasn't much of an improvement,
at least he was in control.  He turned to the males.  "Ok guys, I
know what you were talking about, so I'll get right to the
point."  He pulled out a knife, or at least to them it looked
like a knife, in reality he hadn't pulled out anything, but of
course, that was the beauty of mind manipulation.  "So who's
first to stop me?"  Of course, they froze.  Rick smiled, it must
all seem so unreal to them.  He grinned as no one made a move. 
He hadn't really made them scared of him or anything, he just
took the scenario that was playing in each of their minds about
being stabbed and killed and enhanced it, kind of like taking a
black and white film and adding some colour and special effects,
it seemed so much more real now.  Rick chuckled.  "Didn't think
so."  He turned back to the girls.  They weren't moving.  He
grumbled, of course, he had paused them all.  He let out a sigh
and clapped his hands once for effect.  "Ok girls, you can move
now.  I know you have lots of stuff to complain and bitch and
whine about.  And you're probably wondering who I am, so I might
as well tell you.  I am God.  Or at least I will be YOUR God
quite soon."
  Still, even now granted their, albeit somewhat limited freedom,
the girls said nothing.  They were still letting the words sink
in.  Finally, after what seemed like several minutes and was in
reality, several minutes, Karen spoke up.  "You asshole!  Who do
you think you are?  You can't just walk in here with a knife! 
I'm going to call the police!"
  Rick shrugged.  "If you want, I'll help."  Chuckling inwardly,
he took a deep breath and yelled out "POLICE!"  Nobody laughed. 
He sighed.  "Philistines."  Oh well, so he wasn't a comedian,
that wasn't why he had come anyways.  "Hmm, which one of you
girls are virgins?"  He looked around and grinned as they all
raised their hands (he had forced them to be totally truthful). 
"Well, that was easy wasn't it?  You know what girls?  You're
really missing a lot.  I mean, this whole religion thing, it's a
big sham.  That's right, you heard me.  It's just made up by a
lot of boring people who lived boring lives and wanted others to
live boring lives as well."  They just stared more.  "You don't
believe me?"  He snapped his fingers.
  That was the moment that Andrea would forever remember that
changed her life.  At that point she had never even thought of
sex, and usually not guys either.  Sometimes she would, but it
didn't really interest her, she didn't know why everybody talked
about sex, until it hit her.  She didn't know what happened but
she felt something filling her down there, which was impossible
as she still had her pants on, but it was happening nonetheless.
And she liked it too!  It felt so good, God how good it felt. 
She closed her eyes as pleasure washed over her and she just
moaned in total contentment as she felt her pussy slowly get
pumped in and out by this invisible thing in her.  Wait. 
Something was happening.  Being sexually inexperienced, she had
no idea what it was, except that her pleasure was increasing and
something seemed to be coming, like an angry band of raiders that
was getting closer and closer to crossing over the horizon.  Oh
God... Godd.. it was almost there, almost.... "AHHHHHHH!!!!!" 
Almost at the same time her and all the other girls in the room
screamed out collectively in their first orgasm of their lives. 
Oh God did that feel good.  She collapsed on the ground panting.
  Rick smirked, he had always liked addicting people to sex. 
"Well, it seemed you all enjoyed that.  On to round 2.  Everybody
undress."  As if on cue everybody in the room, male and female
aliked stripped down until they were totally naked.  "Girls, you
want more?"  Still recovering from their orgasms, all the females
could do was nod meekly.  He looked at the guys who were all very
hard by now.  "They look like they're ready for some action,
ladies, how about it?"  Although all of the girls had lust
burning in their eyes, none of them made a move.  Which made the
guys wonder if Rick had controlled them again, but that wouldn't
make sense, so why?
  Andrea cleared up the mystery a second later.  "Are they
supposed to be that small?  That doesn't look like it could reach
what I just felt."  The guys were in a state of disbelief, this
was Andrea speaking?  Of course they didn't know that to Andrea
that single orgasm was like a revelation to her, that it opened
up a whole new life for her, it was like she had been reborn, and
the old shy, afraid Andrea was gone.
  Rick grinned and unzipped his pants showing off his
gift-enhanced 12 inch member which immediately caught the eye of
every girl in the room.  "I think you're looking for something
like thi... URGH"  Rick had no warning at all as Andrea jumped
him and started riding his cock for all she was worth, moaning
and panting and moaning some more as she got herself off on his
monster penis.  The humiliated and beaten look in the eyes of the
guys was priceless, Rick grinned (as much as he could grin while
being fucked by this newly born sex monster on top of him), it
was a true kodak moment.  Slowly with one finger he beckoned
Cindy over to his face and she eagerly padded over and sat down.
He nearly suffocated.  Shit, he forgot to reduce her weight. 
Originally the plan was to do some long complicated dialogue with
her in which he'd do it as a gift to her, but at this point, it
was life and death.  Quickly, he reached out to her body and
reduced the fat in her body until she was not only bearable
enough for him to eat but also had the body of a super model, of
course it wasn't perfect, but changes could always be made later.
 He looked over quickly before he started licking Cindy's now
perfect pussy in earnest.  Excellent, they were right where they
were supposed to be.  He went back to his job and soon Cindy's
screams could be heard echoing down the deserted church hallways.
 And despite all this, all the sex, the noise, everything, Cassie
and Tracy hadn't budged from their previous positions, frozen in
a post orgasmic state.  Rick cackled inwardly right before Andrea
tightened around his cock in her 10th orgasm in the past few
minutes, this one finally enough to bring him over, he would deal
with them soon, just after... "Uhhhhhhhh"  Rick's low groan mixed
with Andrea's screams of "OH GOD YES YES YES YESSSS!" and Cindy's
constant bestial orgasmic noises to become something that would
sound beautiful to maybe someone with a severe heaing deficiency.
 Maybe.
  Slowly it ended, and Rick came down from his orgasmic high and
back to Earth.  He quickly rolled out and pushed Andrea and Cindy
to sit down on the floor and behave.  He looked at Tracy and
quickly let go of her mind freeze.  Almost immediately her body
unfroze from it's previous state and she blinked once trying to
get ahold of what happened, as she had seen everything but
couldn't move to participate.  And participate she wanted to. 
Consumed with a lust caused by her first ever orgasm, Tracy lay
down and spread her legs like a cheap whore.
  Rick acted shocked.  "Tracy what are you doing?"
  The flat-chested girl looked confused and somewhat
dissapointed.  "I.. I thought you were going to rape me."
  Rick chuckled.  "Tracy, look at yourself.  Look at your chest,
or lack there of.  Do you think anyone, much less me, would want
to fuck you?  Get real."
  The words sliced through the young woman like so many shards of
glass.  She started sobbing as all her confidence, all those
years of being sure of her looks and feeling proud of her body
and liking herself, everything she ever believed in herself, was
washed away.  Yet in that torrent of despair, she realized, there
was indeed some, if not a lot, of truth floating around.  She was
ugly.  Well, not her face, but her body.  God, why had she spent
all her life deluding herself?  Her chest.  It was all about
that.  Forget all that shit about inner beauty. What inner
beauty?  What good was inner beauty if she'd never get a chance
to fuck, to use her body, to use other people's bodies!  It was
at that point when she made her decision.  It suddenly seemed so
clear, like her destiny had been shown to her.  She'd get
implants, first, definitely.  She'd need new clothes, a new look.
 And then... and then she'd show them.  She'd fuck more men than
anyone ever had.  She'd show them all.  She was going to improve.
 Be better!  It'd take all her money, possibly more, but it
didn't matter, everything would be fine after.  She got up,
dressed and turned to leave, to start her new life when a voice
attempted to bring her down to reality.
  "Tracy. What are you doing?"
  She turned to face John, her boyfriend.  She scoffed at the
title.  Some boyfriend.  Boy was right, the guy was so
pathetically endowed how could he ever hope to please her.  "I'm
going to get the life I want John.  Rick is right, I'm
disgusting, I need to change."
  John looked shocked and hurt at the same time, a curious
mixture of emotions that Rick loved to see on people's faces.  It
was like art to him, something he had crafted and molded. 
"T...Tracy."  His voice caught.  It seemed so... impossible.  How
could Tracy act like this?  He cared about her so much, and to
watch her throw her life away.  It was amazing, but now, in this
situation, he loved her more than ever, more than he cared about
himself, he would do anything for her.  It was, of course,
impossible for John to know that Rick had upped his love for
Tracy by about 10 times.  "I... love you.  I love you the way you
are.  You look wonderful.  You don't need to go anywhere.  I'll
always be here for you."
  Tracy snorted at that.  "I'm sorry "little" John, but you just
don't cut it.  You can stay with me, or not, but I'm leaving. 
You can come if you want, but I only want a REAL man in me, and
when I get my new tits you should know you don't deserve them. 
But you can always watch me with other men.  So?  Are you
coming?"  She looked at her watch impatiently as if this was just
an inconvenience and nothing more.
  John closed his eyes and wished this wasn't happening, not to
him, not now, not ever.  He wished he could do something.  But he
couldn't, he wasn't good enough for her, but he loved her so
much, she still meant so much to him.  In the end, he had no
choice.  Lowering his head in shame he muttered the one word that
would change his life forever.  "Yes."
  Rick laughed a laugh that would make villains from Flash Gordon
proud as the door slammed shut behind Tracy and her new
cuckholded boyfriend.  It was his revenge.  Tracy would spend her
time obsessing over her looks and wanting to prove herself as a
real slut every second of her life while John would do nothing
but be her little man slave.  Money would be tight.  John would
probably have to work two or three jobs to support her new life.
Not that she might not end up in white slavery anyways or
something.  He shrugged.  Shit happened.  But this is what they
get for being in his way.  Besides, none of this had been caused
by his direct influence.  Just a few comments here, a major
orgasm there and a bit of love enhancement and he had just ruined
the lives of 2 very promising young people.  And he was about to
ruin another one.
  He glanced over at Cassie, the sweet, beautiful Cassie, the
popular Cassie, the soon to be forever-trapped-in-a-living-hell
Cassie.  He waved a hand in yet another of his useless yet very
cool looking physical gestures to mark his mental touch upon her
mind.  As the hand glided smoothly through the air, her body
began to unlock itself and slowly she could move again, but
before she could say anything, Rick had begun to exact his living
hell on her.  "Cassie, since you like to flirt so much.  I've
decided to grant your wish.  In a way.  You constantly flirt and
pull back, so I figure, you like the attention, but you hate sex
right?"  He didn't pause for effect but instead kept right on
going.  "So I think it's only fair to make you crave sexual
attention, because from now on, you will do anything possible for
sex, for attention, you'll flirt and tease and everything.  But,
when you actually have sex, it'll be the most painful and
excruciating experience of your life.  However, I doubt if many
men will let that bother them, nor will they decide NOT to take
you after you've so thoroughly offered yourself to them.  And
this will continue for... well... forever.  No, I'm not kidding
either, I've added some new features to your body.  You'll never
age, for one.  For another, I've put a small program in your
brain to scan the minds of males near you and change your form to
suit them, so you'll always be guaranteed a male whore.  And of
course, other health bonuses to make sure that with your new
found immortality, you live forever."  He cackled a little more
at the thought of her suffering like that.  "So my little whore,
before I send you off on your new life, any last words?"
  Her personality and mind returned to her for the moment, Cassie
gathered her wits and tried her best not to cry, but it was hard,
what type of life would she have from now on?  To be a whore for
the rest of her life, of eternity!  And she woudln't even ever
enjoy it, wouldn't ever feel the heavenly bliss of an orgasm
again.  She opened her mouth to say something, something grand,
something that would save her sorry tight ass, but only one word
came out.  "Why?"
  Rick gave a small shrug.  "It's simple really.  Because you
were in the wrong place, at the wrong time.  Because you remind
me of every girl I've ever hated in my life.  Because you never
shut up.  But when it comes down to it, because... I... can." 
And with that all her will and thought and personality was
enslaved once again and she walked out, ready to fuck the first
man she saw.
  Finally done his dirty deeds, Rick stuffed his now flaccid dick
back in his pants, rezipped them and prepared to walk off with
his new fuck toys, Andrea and Cindy, when he remembered the boys
cowering in the corner, still in shock of what had happened.  He
smiled and enhanced their emotions of humiliation, of failure, of
being immasculated in front of the women they professed to care
about.  A knife appeared in each of their hands suddenly.  Not a
real knife, but if it was real enough that it could fool their
brains, then it would still have the same effect.  And that, he
thought, was possibly one of the most powerful new abilities he
had.  Slowly he raised his hands, and as he did so, their hands
moved with his, bringing the knife up, slowly tracing the areas
to slice, dice and destroy.  It was like they were an orchestra
and he was the conductor.  It was so absolutely fucking
beautiful.  His hands reached their peak and he turned to leave.
It was time to send a message to Colt, to make him know that Rick
Evans, his worst nightmare come true, was back in his life.
  The night air smelt brilliant as it danced upon his nostrils,
signalling his clearance from the old building that was the
church.  He grinned inwardly, it was going to be so beautiful, he
wished he could see it, could see his own handiwork, see his own
art.  And so Rick Evans walked out of the church, two beautiful
naked girls holding on to either arm and the confidence of a
billion successes inside him.  A few more steps, and then
suddenly, he stopped.  Slowly he looked to the ground, closed his
eyes and brought his hands down hard to his side, ending the
symphony and starting it at the same time.  And inside the
church, a message was being sent, a message that would catch
Colt's eye, and up the ante in their private little war.  That
is, it would have, if Colt was around to see it.


VIII. (Somewhere in Ohio)

Tick.  The girl's eyes were calm.  She sat perfectly still,
again, calm, her legs crossed beneath her.  Her hands were in her
lap and her head aimed straight forward, her eyes unfocussed as
if staring at something not really there.  Tick.  Her breathing
was perfect, the air from her nose coming at exact intervals, and
her chest rose and fell at those same periods.  It was as if she
wasn't really there at all, as if her entire body was set on
automatic.  Tick.  The sight was incredible.  Not just because
she was the ultimate sex object, that was obvious to anybody with
half a brain and a dick, but also because of how statuesque and
serene she looked sitting there like a real life Buddha
contemplating the secrets of the universe.  Well, if Buddha had
two X chromosomes, 36-D breasts, an unrealistically tight, firm
ass, and wore a french maid's outfit complete with fishnet
stockings.  Tick.  It was like The Thinker meets Playboy except
with a slightly more malevolent tone.  And yes, despite how she
looked, it was malevolent.  Tick.  Not just in that the current
room was a dingy basement of what he thought was an extravagent
mansion and not just that the contents were nothing more than a
racks upon racks of canned beans, a step ladder and a beaten up
old box sitting in the corner.  Tick.  It was something more,
something about this case.  His attentions turned back to the
girl.  So quiet, so peaceful.
  Colt sighed.  Tick.  Appearances could be, and tended to be,
decieving.  This girl, whatever her name was currently, was
certainly not at peace.  Tick.  She just looked it.  It was a
terrible punishment being a prisoner in your own mind, not being
able to control your actions or your feelings yet in full control
of your consciousness.  Tick.  It was not at all unlike a pilot
who although sitting in the cockpit was not the one flying the
plane.  Painful especially when your body was being used as a
whores, and worse.  Tick.  He shuddered at the thought.  Disgust
wasn't something Colt had felt in a very long time, not since the
Gift anyways.  It was amazing how having the ability to control
minds, turn women into sex objects, and all that good stuff,
could strengthen one's stomach.  Tick.  But this... this had to
be one of the worst cases he'd had ever seen.  Usually he
understood the motives behind the criminals he pursued, they were
mostly unpopular young people who wanted revenge on those that
oppressed them, or they were seeking to improve their life, or
simply to just get fucked every day.  Tick.  It was all very
clean cut, very simple.  But this one, this... Steve, as was the
only name that he was known by, was something truly different,
something truly... horrific?  Tick.  No, not horrific, he
thought, more along the lines of incredibly disturbing, something
which left a lingering taste in the mouth, like the ending of The
Usual Suspects.  Something which didn't sit quite right.  Tick. 
He stopped his line of thought for a second and probed the girl's
mind.  Hmmm.  Not quite state of the art defence in here, but
still, some heavy shields blocking his access.  Nothing to be
afraid of though.  Tick.  There was however, some strange
background noise, probably just random brain wave activity
though.  It sounded odd.  TH'D R XCRA!  He shrugged it off and
kept working.  Tick.
  Colt had first heard of the existence of Steve a month ago,
when his sister's ex-friend, ex-lover, Tricia Naples, whose looks
he had since changed back to normal, just suddenly vanished. 
Tick.  Being the good brother he was, Colt naturally decided to
do some investigating as Sheri was understandibly worried, even
though she and Tricia were no longer friends (due to extenuating
circumstances covered in Alien's Gift 5 involving Tricia's memory
wipe by Colt).  The investigation turned out to be harder than he
thought.  He had found nobody with any recollection of seeing her
kidnapped.  Tick.  In fact, he had found nobody who even
remembered she existed, up to, and including, her parents.  And
the more he investigated, the more puzzling it got.  Tick.  There
was no sign of tampering with people's memories, which meant that
either he had been dreaming for the past 5 years of his life, or
somebody had very expertly removed those memories from their
minds.  It obviously couldn't have been a mind wipe, those were
easily detectable and left traces.  Tick.  He had tried
everything he knew to find some trace of who did it, but after
nights on end of not sleeping trying to work it out, he was left
with no more answers than when he started.  And of course,
several more questions.  These things had a tendency not to be
very tidy.  Tick.  The mindshield wouldn't budge.  Fuck.  He
tried again.  TH'S R XCRP!  Tick.  He had even considered trying
to find Trent and asking him to help, that is, until he realized
that FINDING Trent probably would take him even more time and
effort.  But as annoying as the guy was, and as comparitively
weak he was giftwise, even Colt had to admit that when it came to
knowing his way around the human mind, nobody, anywhere, was more
adept and more creative than Trent Cheung, a fact that he only
grudgingly admitted on rare occasions.  Tick.  Still, this was a
rather desperate situation and he couldn't find the guy.  It
wasn't until he had heard about this man who claimed to have seen
a guy do strange things to a girl that he actually stumbled
(albeit rather clumsily) onto Steve's trail.  Tick.  That was
when he finally learnt about his existance, about this man who
took pleasure in the degradation and humiliation of girls.  A man
who loved to slowly break and enslave girls to be his slaves, sex
or otherwise.  Tick.  From that one witness, Colt slowly began to
expand his knowledge by finding more people who had some memory,
witnesses that Steve had not known were there.  As well, he would
access any security cameras he could find, bypassing the Gifted
messages that Steve had sent to those video screens.  Hmm.  This
shield was a lot trickier than he had first thought.  IH'S R
XRRP!  Tick.
  Colt sighed.  When he had first started this little mission, it
all seemed like a simple thing to him.  Even when he had found
out how good at covering his tracks this Steve was, it still
didn't seem that hard.  Tick.  But the more he dug into it the
more he realized that he was involved in a much bigger picture
than he had originally thought.  There were different mansions
and homes for Steve all over the US.  Tick.  Colt had tracked him
through Kentucky, Illinois and Texas so far, but he had no idea
how many hideouts this guy had.  He was hoping that this one in
Ohio would be the one, but apparently he was wrong.  Tick. 
Still, he hoped that he was close to nailing this asshole.  And
he WAS an asshole.  It wasn't simply sex he was after, but
somehow he got some sort of sick rush out of using and degrading
women.  Tick.  He had seen so many of this guy's "toilet girls"
that Colt didn't even bother eating lunch or supper before going
into one of these mansions.  The buzzing in the background
continued.  Tick.  It was annoying and he'd wish it'd stop, he
needed to concentrate dammit.  IH'S A XRRP!  The idea of using a
girl simply to excrete and piss in still disgusted him, even
after all the sickos he had encountered in the past.  Tick.  It
was just that none of the other Gifteds he had encountered had
ever been this malicious, this callous and this dangerous.  And
yes, dangerous did describe Steve too.  Tick.
  Physical force wasn't something Colt was too used to when
dealing with these mentally Gifted villains.  Yeah, Trent had a
tendency to use physical force in battles, but that wasn't quite
the same as what Steve tended to do.  Tick.  The first mansion he
had come to, Colt had almost been killed by poisonous vines
surrounding the house that had been Giftedly altered to be
deathly toxic upon one touch.  That already was pretty out of
line in Colt's book.  But the nerve toxin that had flooded the
second mansion had really made him hate this guy.  Tick.  Steve
seemed ready to kill anyone and everyone just to have his little
bit of fun.  It was like this whole thing was a game to him. 
Tick.  Colt was getting pissed off just thinking about it.  He
kept working.  When he finally found Steve, he would make him
pay, for everything that he had done and for whatever it was he
had probably done to Tricia.  Tick.  Colt felt responsible in a
way for Tricia, as he felt that had he not interfered in her mind
in the first place she might have ended up living a normal life.
Gifted interference, even if deleted, sometimes drew other
Gifteds to the person, whether out of curiousity or just because
they felt that it would be easier to penetrate a second time.  He
chuckled dryly.  Tick.  Just like sex.  The buzzing continued,
like the dripping of water from a tap in the background.  Colt
ignored it and kept plugging away at the shield.  Tick.  He would
find Steve, and he would hurt him.  This could not go unpunished.
 Tick.  And Colt continued at his slow and ardous task at hand,
thinking hateful and malevolent thoughts, not knowing of the
death that awaited him so close at hand and ultimately, not
learning from his mistakes of the past.  Tick.  He had
underestimated the situation he had gotten himself into with
Steve already, and in all his anger and all his hatred, Colt
Winters had forgotten to learn anything from that.  He kept
going, ignoring his surroundings and ignoring the sounds in the
background, both in the mind and in the room.  Tick.  And with
each second, with each moment spent on the task at hand and not
on noticing the minute intricacies of the current circumstances,
his doom drew closer.  Sometimes you have to see the big picture,
and sometimes you have to notice the details.  Tick.


XI.

The complex was huge, and metallic.  Trent was still amazed at
how sci-fi-ish it looked, even after so many visits.  Its walls
were metallic, its ceiling was metallic, hell, even the floors
and doors were metallic.  He sighed.  Somehow these secret
government complexes all had to look like something out of
X-files, or Star Trek, or something.  He supposed that if one
were going to build something top secret and special, one might
as well give the feeling to their employees that they were top
secret and special.  This place certainly made people feel
special.  Like a caged rat.  He sighed again and kept walking. 
The guard was rude.  He let out another sigh.  One would think
that in this day and age, inside a government complex that was
dealing with impossibly tough odds, guards would be much nicer to
visitors.  He almost wished he could have mindwiped the guy. 
Almost.  The machine gun mounted sensors hanging off the walls
and ceilings made him remeber where he was.  Any use of the Gift
and he would be filled with more lead than the head of a
cheerleader.  He continued his stroll until he saw the all too
familiar glow of the chamber he had grown to know so well.  The
voice was familiar too, that female soprano of youth that had
intertwined with it experience and a tiredness that belied the
girl's superficial lack of age.  He looked down the railing and
saw her, looking concerned as always, reading reports as always,
and typing at a small black laptop, as always.  Trent wondered if
she ever slept.  Or ate.  Or fucked.  He stepped gingerly into
the metal lift and pressed the button that would take him to the
lower floor of this room.  Even after all this time, the lift
bothered him.  Something about the way it moved so smoothly up
and down worried him.  It was like it was TOO perfect, that there
wasn't enough turbulance in between to deem it a normal machine.
Like the kid with no flaws that every teacher loved in grade
school.  Nobody liked perfection.
  The lift landed and he stepped out.  If the woman noticed him
approaching her, she didn't show it.  Even now, he couldn't tell
whether she was simply absent-minded or just didn't like giving
up an advantage when she had one.  He approached her quietly and
leaned against a control panel until she "noticed" him.  He still
couldn't believe how she looked after all this time.  It wasn't
like she was astoundingly beautiful or anything.  She was good
looking, yes, but that wasn't it.  It was just the shock at
seeing, talking to and being in the presence of a beautiful young
woman he had always known as a not-so-beautiful, middle-aged
woman.  Doctor Kathryn Silvers was one of the few mundanes he
knew that were aware of the Gifted world that functioned just out
of sight of the normal one.
  He had first met her a while ago during his pursuit of a
psychopathic Gifted named Vultan, whom he had found and killed
with her help later on.  She had been sent by the government as a
specialist on who they had thought was just a mass rapist. 
Although she was unprepared for the severity of the events that
followed, Trent was impressed by how she managed to survive while
other much stronger and much tougher folk had perished or broken
mentally.  So he had left her memory intact, breaking the
unwritten rule that most, if not all, Gifted's followed, in order
to protect they're hidden world.  She had popped back in and out
of his life at various times after that, often tipping him off
about a potential situation that needed his touch, or he would
visit her for information.  Things remained about the same until
a little while ago when the resurrected Vultan had attempted to
exact his revenge on her and implanted a virus inside her system
that would slowly kill her.  Trent had to act quickly and he thus
had made her body younger in order for her to be healthier and
stronger to fight off the virus and keep it at bay, for it had
been specifically designed to target her older shell.  To make
sure that she wasn't killed anytime soon he had also had to stop
her aging process.  It wasn't very hard at all, it just was hard
for HER to get used to, as her sex drive also returned twice as
strong (another side effect of the virus) and perhaps that was
why she always buried herself in her work.  Either way, he was
curious as to why she had called him over here today, as he was
busily trying to repair the damage to his house caused from last
night's events.
  She was quick to react to his query.  In fact she was on her
way to the door of another room right as he was asking it,
beckoning him to follow.  Trent shrugged, adjusted his black
jacket and followed.  What he saw next didn't really surprise
him, but it did turn him on a whole lot.  A room full of girls,
horny ones at that, possibly 10 or 20 of them.  They were all
writhing on their government issued beds (all metal except for
the mattress of course) with their hands between their legs
moaning to be fucked.  It was what they wanted to be fucked WITH
that caught his attention.  He turned to face Doctor Silvers and
gave her a questioning look.  "Black cocks?"
  The young looking woman nodded.  "Yeah, that's what they've
been begging for since we found them."
  Trent looked at the sight and began his mind probe.  "Hmm...
It's a simple mind alteration locked up with a basic thought
code.  Easy to break."  He blinked and the girls stopped moving
and lay there sound asleep.  "There, it's all fixed, and I've set
them to return home without any memory of what happened after
this.  So do we have any idea who this guy is?"
  Dr. Silvers nodded.  "Well, we have a few suspects that we
think it could be."  She handed him a piece of paper with several
names on it.
  Trent looked it over.  "It's not those two at the bottom.  I
captured them not too long ago.  And the one at the top is living
a regular life on Long Island with no memory of his past courtesy
of Colt.  That leaves these two.  I don't know either.  You have
a file on them?"
  Kathryn nodded again, too eagerly, thought Trent.  In fact, the
whole time she seemed very eager to please, almost bubbly.  It
was as if she was acting the age she looked.  As Trent did a
double check on the sheet, she bounded over to her laptop and
recalled a couple of documents and then spun the monitor to face
the Chinese teen.  "Here, Walter Springer and Jerome Jackson."
  Trent studied the images of the two men intently.  One was
white and the other black.  "Well, it could be either.  My first
inclination would be a not so well endowed black guy who's read
one too many interracial porn stories and once he had the Gift
wanted to live those stories out."  He stared at Walter
thoughtfully.  "Then again, it could be a white guy who because
of all the recent popular culture emphasis on black people, wants
to be black and used the Gift to change himself."  He kept
studying the profiles.  "It's Jerome."  He finally concluded.
  Kathryn looked like a curious child.  "Why do you say that?" 
She leaned over him to look at the picture again, to see if she
missed anything.
  Trent shuffled uncomfortably.  He could swear she was feeling
up his ass.  "If it was the case of Walter the white guy who
wanted to be black, he wouldn't have let these girls go.  He'd
want to keep them around to dominate.  Whereas, I believe that
Jerome's goal would be to get the girl's "addicted" to black...
ummm... dicks... like the porn stories he'd have read would have
entailed."  He scrolled the mouse around.  "Ummm.. do you guys
have an address for him?  Or at least a tentative one?"
  She nodded eagerly and hopped off to grab another pad off a
desk to the side.  Trent was careful to keep his thoughts to
himself this time around.  He quickly clicked around the computer
a little before his eyes lit up at a window he had just
maximized.  It was gone by the time the good doctor returned with
his requested information.
  Trent thanked her and committed the address to memory.  "Okay,
I'm going to go nail this guy ok?  Thanks for your help again
doctor."
  She smiled.  "No problem Trent, any time."
  He nodded.  "Get some sleep too, you look exhausted."
  "I will.  Good hunting."
  Trent nodded once more, opened the door and quickly left.
  Almost immediately, Kathryn jumped to the phone and dialed a
phone number at light speed.  A few rings later a deep male
monotone answered.
  "Hello?"
  "It's Kat."
  Jerome smiled.  "Hello Kat.  Did he fall for it?"
  Doctor Silvers moaned at his voice.  "Oh yes.  He's on his
way."
  Another smile.  She could hear it in his voice.  "You've done
well my little white slut.  You'll get your reward soon."
  Kathryn moaned some more.  She had tried to resist him at
first, but her body had overrode her mind.  It was just so hard
to control her renewed sex drive every day.  At first she had
tried to bury herself in work, but every day she could feel
herself losing her precious grasp on her self-control.  And now
it was all gone, she was his cockslut, mind, body and soul.  She
didn't want to at first.  But his black cock was too good to
resist.  Now she knew that nobody else could satisfy her.  He
owned her pussy.  Yes, pussy.  The days of her thinking in terms
of penises and vaginas were long gone.  She moaned at the thought
of him ramming his fat dick deep into her again.  "Oh godd,
please... I can't wait.  I need your big black cock."
  Jerome smiled and touched her mind.  "Here's a sample of what
you'll get later then slut."
  Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as she started what
was to be one in a series of massive orgasms, each greater than
the last.  Her screams echoed through the sound proof room and
her juices flowed like a waterfall.  And in the midst of all this
sexual chaos, the closing of the door went unheard.


X.

The scene was bloody.  Actually, bloody didn't even begin to
describe the image which greeted the cops that responded to a 911
at Greenwood Baptist Church.  Downright brutal was more like it.
Several young teenage boys, naked, cut open, apparently at their
own hands.  It was terribly gruesome and several of the rookie
cops, and even some of the hardened, veteran ones, threw up their
lunch at the scene.  Alan Storm chuckled very slightly at that
thought, as he knew many of those officers and had been on the
recieving end of many of their lectures about how soft the youth
of today were.  He shrugged.  Hey, he hadn't yet thrown up.  The
dark haired young man in the dark leather jacket waited until
some of the cops had cleared out before he began setting up.
  The call had come in at mid-evening when a janitor had stumbled
upon the evicerated teens.  They had been there for at least a
day as nobody had thought to check up on that locked room.  The
cops had been busy looking for clues, but Alan knew they'd never
find any.  But then again, it hadn't been them that had called
him.  He glanced at the middle-aged man next to him, a man in a
dark suit and trenchcoat, looking at the gruesome sight without
even blinking.  That man was his sometimes friend, James Fox,
OSO.  Obviously the local cops had no idea what they were dealing
with, but higher levels of investigation did.  And since Alan was
one of the best (and also the only) Private Investigator of
Illegal Gifted Actions, Fox had often seen fit to call on him,
and this situation was no different.
  Storm quickly set up his scanning rods around the scene and
activated them, flooding the area with high energy particles
which would allow him to better use his next gadget.  He pulled
what looked to be a pair of binoculors out from his knapsack and
strapped them over his eyes and fiddled with some dials and
buttons on it.  Immediately, what looked to him like ribbons and
hazes of various different colours and densities were revealed to
him, the left over "shadows" from the usage of the Gift.
  Fox was curious.  "What do you see?"
  Storm didn't answer and pulled out from his jacket pocket, a
small computing device that looked not unlike a Star Trek
tricorder.  He attached one of the wires to his headgear and
switched it on.  The readings he was fed back from the small
device were interesting.  He continued to adjust his viewer,
allowing different frequencies to be scanned.  Very interesting.
High power level, medium skill.  He removed his goggles and
gently tapped a few buttons on the small device in his palm. 
Yep, he had been afraid of this.  But unfortunately, the numbers
didn't lie.  "Rick."  He said angrily as he shut the small box.
  The OSO agent looked interested.  "You sure?"
  Storm began packing up.  "Absolutely.  I'd know his signature
anywhere."  James got quiet and thoughtful.  Alan looked up. 
"You're wondering why aren't you?"  The older man nodded, still
in deep thought.  Storm got up and walked towards an area where
the police were clearing away some of the bodies.  Some of the
officers tried to stop him but James waved them off.  Alan
pointed at a part of the floor littered with torn flesh.  "You
see that?  It forms a word."
  Fox studied it closely.  "Colt."  He grumbled.  "So he's back
to settle the score."
  Storm nodded.  "Looks like it.  And if that's so, I think the
GJL is the next place he'll hit.  Except, Colt isn't there, he's
on some sort of mission, and of course Jade is at that conference
on Gifted biology in Denver.  That leaves Sheri and the rest. 
But I doubt we'll even get there in time.  Rick isn't one to move
slowly.  If he was planning to hit there, it'd already have been
done.  And if so, we shouldn't count on any help from the Justice
League."
  "So what are we going to do?"  He looked concerned.  Fox knew
exactly what was going through Alan's mind.  It wasn't easy to
come full circle so to speak.  He knew Alan's story all too well,
hell, he was there.  He had met Alan while trying to track down
Laura Peterson, a fellow OSO agent who had been missing for some
time.  Alan had been trying to find out where his girlfriend had
disappeared to.  Both trails ended up leading to Rick.  Neither
had been successful in stopping him either, except that Fox had
managed to escape and ran into Colt, while Alan had been left to
the mercy of Rick and Rick wasn't one who was known for mercy. 
When Fox and Colt had found him, Alan was lying unconcious, on
the verge of death, the victim of the biggest mental assault that
Colt had ever seen.  While Alan was still in his coma, Fox and
Colt had went after Rick and nearly captured him had he not
gotten the guards to shoot up the floor to aid his escape. 
Fortunately, they had recovered all the girls and Colt had
managed to restore them to their previous selves.  All except
Amber, who had been Alan's girlfriend for the past 5 years before
Rick captured her.  Amber had been Rick's experiment.  He had not
only changed her, but he had physically altered her brain to fit
those changes, not allowing any more space for intelligence or
changes to his program.  It hadn't worked perfectly, but it was
enough that Colt had no way of fixing it, not without taking
several university level courses in neural biology at least.  The
brain wasn't something to be tampered with physically, not even
for a Gifted.  When Alan had finally come out of his coma, he had
woken up to a mere shell of the intelligent, beautiful girl he
had first fell so deeply in love with.  At first he had tried
ardently to fix the damage, through talking to her, through
caring, through love, but nothing worked.  She wanted sex, and
that was it.  Eventually it had just weighed too much on him and
Alan began sinking into a deep depression which later led him to
the brink of psychosis.  He blamed the OSO for sending Amber into
the fray, and later blamed every Gifted.  Finally, he settled on
just the Gifted's that abused their power, and so a vigilante had
been created.  But he wasn't just any normal mundane out to fight
the Gifted criminals, because although Rick had hurt him, he had
also helped him.  Because of the massive psychic blow that he had
suffered at the hands of the bastard, Alan's mind and body had
somehow adapted itself to be resistant to the Gift.  He was the
only normal human that couldn't be touched by the power.  And
this made him the perfect person to wage a very personal war
against those psychic criminals.  Unfortunately, James had seen
the young man take it way too far when apprehending the bad guys.
 And when it came to Rick.  James had no idea what might happen
and was all too afraid that Alan would end up causing more harm
than good.  He broke from his train of thought when he realized
that Alan had not yet answered his question as he was throwing
his bag over his shoulder after pulling something out.  "So." 
James repeated.  "What are we going to do?"
  Alan didn't even look over his shoulder as he was still
fiddling with something.  "You're going back to base.  And I"  He
stood up, shut his shotgun closed and pumped it to load it.  "Am
going to take care of Rick."


Epilogue:

Tristian smiled as he watched the former Col. Sandra Rosen
desperately fuck herself with a cactus.  As much as it hurt her
and as much as she wanted to cry out from the intense pain, she
also didn't want to stop.  Pleasure could no longer bring her to
those orgasms she now so craved with all her being.  She needed
pain.  And lots of it.  She screamed at herself inside, but she
knew at the same time, that with every successful cum, she was
getting closer and closer to submitting.  She had total free will
at the moment, but already she didn't want to stop.  God, it hurt
like hell, but she was so close... so close.  She screamed as she
came, a mixutre of blood and girlcum rushing out of her destroyed
vagina.  Tristian just stood there and laughed.  He was past
caring, and past morality, and past everything.  He had been
pushed to his limit and then crossed it.  And it felt good.  No
moral qualms, no problems with suffering, just full knowledge
that at this point in the game, anything went.  He laughed some
more and thought about all the girls he would have once he
restored his mansion and his harem.  He grinned, and then he'd
find the rest of those government issued idiots and make each and
every one of them pay dearly for daring to mess with Tempest.  He
looked up at the security camera trained on him and cackled.
  The man behind the monitor smiled as he saw the dark clothed
villain laughing at him.  He was perfect for the task that was
coming.  Absolutely perfect.  He tapped his fingers together and
formulated another plan.  It was going to happen soon.  Not soon
enough for him, but then again, nothing ever was.  But soon
nonetheless.  And then everything would be different.  He grinned
and gestured to the girl standing beside him.  "What do you
think?"
  She smiled.  "A perfect choice, as always."
  He nodded.  "Take care of it darling."  He pressed a button and
the door behind him opened.  He gestured to it, implying the
direction of her exit.
  Brandy nodded and with a few graceful steps left.  He chuckled
and kept observing Tristian.  He only hoped that Colt, Rick and
Trent, the other pawns in his game, would survive their
respective fates so that he could crush them.


Eplogue II:

Sheri Winters struggled against her bonds, but to no avail as
Rick had them tied on quite securly.  She swore and kept
squirming.  It had all happened so fast.  One minute she was
busily finishing up some GJL reports that she had to send to yet
another interested government bureau, hoping to get them done
before the lesbian orgy upstairs ended, and the next, alarms were
blaring everywhere as sensors indicated an intrusion by a Gifted.
 She had barely gotten to the monitor room when she heard the
screaming, then the struggling, then the moaning and knew that
someone had managed to defeat all the fairly powerful Gifted
girls upstairs.  It was at that point that she knew it was a guy.
 Somehow, males were stronger in the Gift than females were,
though they had less agility and couldn't link together to make
themselves stronger.  But still, they were more powerful, and in
any direct assault, a male would win, and so she had drawn all
her power to build herself the most powerful mindshield she could
manage and was about to turn around to investigate when she ran
face to face into Rick.  Rick hadn't even bothered to try to
conquer her, as he had seen the shield, he just created his own
shield and trapped her gift.  She had tried to stop him
physically but he had overpowered her there too.  She swore
again.  Damn, he had gotten stronger.  She remembered when her
brother had easily put him down, when he was clumsy and
inexperienced, but he had broken through the defences and members
of the GJL easily and now, all the girls, except for her, were
his loyal sex slaves.
  She pulled against the metal cuffs again, but still they didn't
even so much as budge.  She was horny too.  This was not a good
thing.  She needed sex more than anything, but couldn't have it.
And that too was not a good thing because her judgement was
getting more and more clouded.  She only wished her brother would
return home soon.  Wait.  She struggled against that horny wall
that seemed to be obstructing her logic.  It wouldn't matter. 
Rick had destroyed their headquarters and moved them to his own
place.  She screamed in frustration.  Colt would have to find
Rick, and most likely Rick would choose to fight on his own turf,
and that would spell doom for her brother.  She kept struggling.
Fuck.  She needed to get out.  Fuck.  Fuck.  God... She needed a
good fucking.  She moaned.  Her nyphomania was something she
wished now that she had turned off before checking the monitors,
but she had been so anxious for that orgy that she hadn't felt a
need to stop her body prepping for it.  And now, she was so horny
she would do anything, or anyone.  Except Rick.  She mewled in
frustration and instead her efforts were focussed on getting her
hands between her legs from behind and stroking her aching cunt.
She moaned as she felt her fingers tickle her lips.  Yesss...
  Rick watched with interest from an upstairs window as the
beautiful Sheri masturbated herself to orgasm.  It was too bad
that he couldn't break through that shield.  But he didn't need
her for sex.  Just as bait for Colt.  And if her increased sexual
drive would prevent her from forming any real plan to escape so
be it.  He sighed.  It really was a shame.  She was so
intelligent and beautiful.  But he knew that she would never like
him, no matter how horny she was.  He shrugged and turned back to
his horny harem of girls.  Oh well, c'est la vie.  And as he
buried his cock deep into Danielle, his mind kept drifting back
to Sheri.  She really was an amazing girl.  It was too bad he
still had... what was her name again?  Oh yeah.  Susan.  It
really was a shame.


Epilogue III:

Michael Williams screamed as another tendril wrapped itself
around his arm, threatening to break yet another bone in his now
very destroyed body.  He cried, something he had not done in a
long time.  It was truly overwhelming.  He hadn't thought that
his new body could be destroyed by anyone, human or otherwise. 
Yet at this very moment, it was being very thoroughly trashed. 
He screamed and tried his best not to look down.  His once proud
foot long black penis that he had been so happy to get all those
months ago, was now nothing more than a shredded piece of meat. 
He sobbed some more and was quickly met with another slap meant
to stop his crying and force his eyes open, but instead had the
opposite effect.  The tears rolled down his face.  It wasn't
fair.  His life had been so perfect ever since that day.  Ever
since he had been changed from the scrawny picked on black kid to
the big hunk he was now.  No.  Used to be.  He tried not to think
about his body anymore.  Or at least, what was left of his body.
Another slap.  He looked up, tears welling again.  What greeted
him was a face he had gotten to know all too well in the past 45
minutes.  If it could be called a face.  The dark, oil-like
visage which greeted him was something he would have first
thought was a mask, had it not opened up a gigantic multifanged
maw with which it threatened to devour him with.  He didn't know
what it was, but he knew it hurt like hell.  He tried not to look
at it but more tendrils came out and held his face still.
  Venom smiled.  Of course, he wasn't really Venom of the
Spiderman fame, but he could look almost any way he wanted, and
given how he was created, Venom was the way to go.  He smiled,
his face almost splitting in half as he bared his fangs. 
Besides, Venom was always his favourite character in all of
comicdom and now he had the chance to live the dream.  He grabbed
the man in front of him and tightened one of his many tendrils he
had wrapped around the poor fellow's body.  "Perhaps we haven't
made ourselves clear."  He said, in that eerie double voice he
had since developed.  "We want to know where Jerome Jackson is. 
We want to know where that coward who preys on innocents has hid
himself."  He squeezed again and absolutely loved the scream that
followed.  "We really are getting impatient.  If you do not soon
divulge that information, we may have to start our feast a little
earlier than planned."  He grinned, again, showing teeth.  The
fear factor was very important.  His "other" stirred at the idea
of a feast.  He sighed inwardly.  Not now.  Soon.  But not now.
  Michael began crying again at the thought of being eaten.  He
had held out so long already to protect his fellow "Adam" as they
were called by his boss.  At first it was out of friendship but
quickly his priorities had changed, and only the thought of what
his boss would do to him if he found out that he had spilled the
beans kept his mouth shut.  But now, it was debatable which
torture and sure execution would be worse.  He was still
considering when a quick crack filled the air, followed by yet
another of his screams as his leg was snapped in at least 2
places.  That tipped the scales quite effectively.  He took a few
seconds to compose himself, and failed, but at least he wasn't
sobbing anymore.  "H.. h.. he's.. at... 143 Q.. Queen Str...eet."
 He shut his eyes as more tears rolled out. 
"Apartme..ap..apartment 4 b..b...b..B."  He slumped against the
tendrils holding him up and cried some more.  His life, one way
or another was over.  He hoped at least it would be quick.
  The man who called himself Venom nodded.  "Very good of you to
cooperate.  Unfortunately, we cannot reward you much for that bit
of information as your crimes of the past have vastly outweighed
this little trinket you have offered to us.  However, we can make
your death relatively quick, although we cannot guarantee it to
be painless."  He smiled and his fangs bared again as he advanced
on the sobbing man.  His "other" was in absolute heaven for the
next few minutes, relishing in the end of the hunt.  The screams
went unnoticed as Venom had already pushed to neighbors around
the small apartment to not notice anything odd.  Finally it was
done, and he got up and neatly cleaned up the place, gathering
all the remaining bone fragments, skin and blood that had been
littering the place.  It was time to pay the piper.  He grinned.
Jerome would be dead soon.  His "companion" squeeled in delight
at the thought of another feast.  He nodded grimly.  Those that
harmed the innocent had to be brought to justice.  And this
Jerome character had definitely harmed the innocent.  His organs
would taste quite good after a quick torture.  Venom made his way
to the door.  He obviously wasn't Trent, but he'd have to do for
now.  He shut the door slowly so as not to wake anyone.  Trent
would have to wait.  But soon, his brains would join all the
others.  Venom smiled and faded into the darkness.


Epilogue IV:

The buzzing continued and he coudln't stand it.  Tick.  DAMMIT. 
Why wouldn't it stop?  All the other girls he had encountered
had... he froze.  A mind of their own inside their enslaved mind.
 Tick.  Steve wasn't one for manipulation.  He preferred to
create a new persona and trap the old one, to torture her.  Tick.
 It wasn't just background noise.  Colt's blood began to run
cold.  It was her!  Tick.  The buzzing got louder and Colt began
to work harder, faster at tearing down that shield.  IH'S A XRRP!
 IH'S A XRRP!  IH'S A XRRP!  IH'S A XRRP!  The words, if they
were indeed words, got faster and faster.  Tick.  He kept going,
fearing the worst, fearing that Steve had prepared for him yet
again.  Time seemed to slow to a crawl.  IH'S A XRRP!  One more
barrier.  Tick.  IH'S A XRRP!  IH'S A XRAP!  IT'S A XRAP!  IT'S A
TRAP!  His breathing stopped, everything stopped and he finally
heard it, a sound he had been ignoring for so long.  Tick.  He
turned and looked in the direction he heard it eminating from. 
It was just a plain brown box.  Tock.  And the world went white.



Authors Note: Well that's it, I'm surprised I got it done at all
as I usually tend to slack off on things until they just don't
get finished.  Either way, again I apologize for the massive
delay and I hope it was worth the wait.  Also, thanks to
everybody who wrote to me about AG6 because it really gave me a
boost of confidence and it's always good to know that my stuff
doesn't suck.  AG8 may be a while in the making though because I
will be starting my first year in Univ soon and that would mean
my free time will dwindle immensely.  As well, although I am
already working on AG8, I am also working on an AG standalone
called "Trial By Fire" about Trent's awakening, just so people
know not to expect the next installment to come out until at the
very least in mid-late October.  Any questions, comments or
variable disasters can be emailed to me at
a_resolute@yahoo.com

Thanks

Ardin Resolute