It’s widely known that mind control stories and drugs often go hand in hand. On occasions, they’re used as a means to keep the subjects/victims in a docile state while the real control mechanisms are taking place. In others, they’re the actual main instrument for achieving said control. A lot of folks share these types of intoxication fantasies. I can’t really say I do but, like in many other occasions, I recognize the intrinsic value of them when it comes to telling a story.
After yesterday’s humorous foray, I wanted to go down a more sinister path today as changing genres on a regular basis is also part of the challenge. I chose this theme as a result of said desire to shake things up. Unsure whether anyone will enjoy it, but I can only hope that’s the case. Tomorrow, I’ll change things again as I already have a clear idea of what’s to follow. Until then, think happy thoughts… or don’t think at all.
Pierce looked at the countless ghost images of his hands, watching them flicker and dance like a dervish. All of his synaptic connections floated on a bubble of mindless euphoria, ready to burst and wash away every trace of his free will, forever.
“Afterthought is really a fitting name,” Anastasia purred, hypodermic needle in hand.