Sitting in the overcrowded and loud nightclub, Mouse possessed Cathenne. It was their fourth week, and were it not that they both were in Cathenne’s body, talking, commenting not always favorably about the patrons, it would have been utterly boring.
They discovered that Mouse could possess Cathenne bathing together. Playing in the bathtub, Mouse sitting in front with her back to Cathenne, with the water flowing through her, Mouse slipped into Cathenne. She slid out immediately, and they looked at each other before they tried it again. It took them a while to work out that Cathenne had to relax, and Mouse had to deconcentrate her self-image. Feeling cold, colder than usual, Cathenne grabbed for a towel and accidentally ripped it in half. Possessed by Mouse, her body was disproportionally stronger.
After dressing, they tried it again, but clothed Mouse could not merge or possess Cathenne. She died naked, so she was only entirely a ghost when she was bare. During their experiments, when Mouse stepped out of Cathenne, she was naked, but then she wore latex, except it was as insubstantial as her ghost figure. Mouse could imagine herself in clothes, in any sort of clothes she knew well but had to concentrate on maintaining the illusion.
Once they sorted out that one had to allow the other to control Cathenne’s body, they could move and do things normally. As long as one of them metaphorically sat back, like now Cathenne, Mouse had full use of her body as if it was hers. They wanted Cathenne to appear as Mouse had then.
From Aruna’s emails, they found out in which nightclub they were that night of the abduction. From newspaper articles, they discovered that Mouse was not the only disappearance from a nightclub in that area. The police suspected that two other girls vanished from there and gave descriptions. The police reported that they could not find any links between the two or even if the abduction were from the nightclub or on their way home. Cathenne and Mouse saw what made the girls and Mouse similar. They were, well, Mousy.
Spit-balling how they could be incapacitated unobtrusively, they decided that it could be a roofie in their drink, hit on the head, or injected, like the Russians were supposedly doing. Possessed, Cathenne’s body was stronger and much less vulnerable. She felt almost no pain, so a hit on the head would not incapacitate her. Mouse could make it look like she is drinking water from a bottle. If they tipped some water out regularly, they would not be roofied that way. So, injection or forced abduction were the dangers, the unknowns.
To have Cathenne’s body less vulnerable to injection, Mouse made Cathenne wear an additional red and latex layer to her usual layers. Cathenne felt packed, hot, and a bit like a teddy bear, but when Mouse was inside her body, they both felt the heat and pressure, but in a good way. Anyway, in the past month of coming to the bar on Thursdays through Sundays, Cathenne had become used to it. Even with the leg warmers and the long loose daggy jumper with a loose hood over Cathenne’s leather aviator, they were comfortable but bored shitless.
Today, Cathenne pulled the legwarmers down a little and allowed a hint of black latex to show. She crossed her legs, revealing her black ballet heels, and this worked. For the past three days, a few people sat with them and tried to hold a conversation. All were very nice, but that was not why they were here, so Cathenne allowed Mouse full control of her body, even prompting her to be more awkward with men.
They noticed the unusually tall, well-muscled African-American. He always came alone, chatted to a few women, but never stayed with any for long. He was their number one suspect. Every night, he sat down beside them and tried to get a conversation going. Today, he tried, “What’s a nice girl like you doing in a noisy place like this?”
Usually, Mouse just turned away, but that had not stopped the man nor had them abducted, so tonight, Cathenne flared up and replied, “Has that line really worked in this millennium?”
Smiling, the man responded, “Well no, except tonight. I just wanted to break that cold shoulder I was getting from you. Hi, I am Mark and just out for a chat.”
Cathenne handed over control to Mouse, who spoke, “H, hi, Mark. I, I am sorry, but, but, I am two people, and, well, we are waiting, for, for someone specific, sorry, sorry. Oh, I am Mouse.”
Mark smiled a winning smile and spoke, “Well, that was progress, although it is another rejection. Do you know that every time a girl rejects me, I grow taller? I used to be five-two.”
Now that was an original line, thought Cathenne and Mouse both. Under other circumstances, sigh. He stood, smiled a winning smile, and left. Yes, he was still their prime candidate. Mouse’s abductor and killer would be a charmer, or else he would not get away with it.
There were some other men that sat and tried chatting, none of any real note. But then a gorgeous Chinese-American woman in latex leggings sat next to them and looked at them intently. Unashamedly, she uncovered Cathenne’s jumper dress’s hood and took Cathenne’s ponytail looking out the leather aviator in her hands, offering, “I notice you rejected the local hunk. Well, I can be gentle or tough, whichever suits.” Then she kissed them, first hard, then gently.
Cathenne and Mouse were so surprised that they let it happen, even returning the favor. The kiss lasted a long while before they separated, flushed and excited. Cathenne had to take over, and at Mouse’s insistence, stutter offered, “If, if we come out of this night well, can, can I come back to your offer?”
Esmeralda introduced herself and asked, “Are you in some type of trouble?”
Cathenne answered before she thought it through, “Not yet, but I hope to be. There is something that needs fixing.”
Esmeralda asked, “Abusive man, and now you have a split personality?”
Cathenne settled then requested, “Esmeralda, please, leave us for now. We promise to get back to you if we can.” Esmeralda noticed the ‘we,’ shrugged, patted Cathenne’s knee, and left.
“Would you like to be famous, and in what way,” spoke a handsome man with an intriguing accent that they could not place, extending his hand. He followed, “Your answer gives me an idea of what drives you.” He sat without then shaking hands with him or speaking in return.
Mouse took over and apologized, “S, sorry, sir. I, I am not good, with, with men. Please, no disrespect meant. It, it is me, not you.” Mouse was overplaying her part well, although her fear was real. There was something about this well-built and muscled man with tattoos on his neck that gave the impression of slime. The man frowned, replied, “Horosho, horosho, as you wish, as you wish,” and left.
Well past midnight, Cathenne and Mouse were just about to depart, bored, when two slender, thin, barefooted women in short dresses sat next to Cathenne. They ignored her until she looked to stand. Then the one spoke, “Sorry,” and jabbed Cathenne in the leg with something concealed in her hand.
The other woman repositioned to Cathenne’s other side, and they chatted with her, although not really. After a few minutes, they helped her to stand and walked her to the toilets. Along the way, there was a fire exit, which they opened and led Cathenne to a waiting BMW with the boot open. They put her in, removed their shift dresses, threw them in, and then got in with her. The beemer drove away slowly at first but then quite rapidly.
In the boot, one of the girls whispered, “Just do as Rodovan commands, and it will not be that bad. When we get out of the boot, do not resist, do not scream, and do nothing other than what we do. We will all drop on our knees with our foreheads to the ground. The drug will wear off a little so that you could struggle, but, please, please, do not, or Rodovan will put us in the metal lockers. Then, he will put you in the X-cross, whip you, then rape us. But if you are bare, if you cooperate to get onto his fuck-horse, if you say you like what he is doing, it will not be as bad. You see, it will not be as bad, really.”
The traumatized girl repeated much the same during the whole trip. The other just lay there quietly, occasionally shivering, especially when the other spoke about beatings or whippings. Cathenne and Mouse continued to feign grogginess while the girl continued pleading. When the car stopped, the boot opened, and the girls got out. They helped Cathenne stumble out of the boot and down to the ground.
Without a second glance behind, the man walked ahead, opened the front door with a keypad, stepped through, walked to another keypad that looked like an alarm system. It wasn’t. A hidden door swung open, and the man commanded, “Prepare the novaya shlyukha in the fuck-horse, or if she resists, put her on the obedience cross.
The two girls hurried Cathenne down the stairs to where two other girls sat about, naked, with a chain attached to the collar around their necks. The two girls picked up a collar each and closed it around their necks. There was one more chain with a collar. One of the sitting girls came to help, but the other girl just sat there looking blindly at something.
The place looked like a dirty version of a fetish dungeon. Aside from the mattress, five metal lockers, x-cross, fuck-horse, various whips, sticks, and rubber hoses hung on the wall. But Cathenne was more interested in the four cameras.
The while, one of the girls tried to open Cathenne’s tightly locked belt but could not. Another tried opening her locked solid metal choker. Cathenne held her dress’s hood to cover most of her face until Mouse could do her thing. Resisting effectively any attempts to undress her, the girls became frantic, anxious, and cried.
The one that spoke to Cathenne in the boot pleaded, “Please, please tell us how to undress you. Rodovan will be down shortly, and if he is not satisfied, he will beat us, then we will spend the day in the cold small metal lockers while he beats you.” But it was too late.
“Oй, ого, тьфу, it is resisting” shouted the man from before, barefooted and bare-chested, with tatts all over his body. He had also removed his toupet showing tattoo’s on his head like you saw depicted in films that former Russian prisoners sported. The man stormed at Cathenne, his face twisted in anger, his well-muscled body taught. He whipped his balled fist at them and the girls scattered out of the way. Cathenne ducked and pushed, lifted the man into the air, against the wall, and he slid down like a lump of shit he was.
Mouse and Cathenne knew they had greater strength, well, the strength of a person possessed, but this was supernatural. Cathenne grabbed the man’s wrist, dragged him to the X-cross, and strapped him in firmly. Cathenne turned to the girls but then relinquished her control to Mouse. Hesitantly, Mouse approached the girls, but they huddled further away. Mouse sat crosslegged on the floor and waited.
One of the girls spoke, “You have doomed us. He will kill us like any other that resisted. We are dead.”
Mouse spoke, “But it is he that is on the cross.” She stood, took a whip, and belted him on the chest several times, not with their supernatural strength. She turned around and offered, “Next?”
The hereto mute girl stood, but her chain would not reach. She held it in her hands as if to break it. Mouse approached her slowly, put her hand around her neck to the back, and twisted the solid padlock to pieces. She removed the collar, revealing the girl’s bruised and calloused neck. She gave the whip to the girl, and she hit him a few times, then broke down and sobbed.
Mouse looked at the girls, who still did not move, and spoke, “I don’t know how to help the others. What shall we do, Cathenne?”
“Well, for one, young lady, you can put your hands up. You are under arrest,” spoke Mark, pointing a gun at Cathenne. Beside him stood Esmeralda, also a gun pointing at them, adding, “So, this is the trouble you were going to make. We have been trying to find out how the girls disappear and where to for months, but we can not condone vigilantes. I am sorry, we will have to arrest you.”