"Hey, dude, you hardly said word one to me since last week," said Frank as he plopped himself down in the seat next to Jason, a cheesy grin on his face. "What's up with that?"

Jason couldn't help but let his eyes flick over Frank's body. The aura was darker than it had been the first time he had seen it. It had spread as well, and the patterns in the undulating tendrils that snaked around his arms had changed subtlety. As he stared at them for a moment, he got a sense of satisfaction from them, as if a job had been accomplished, and accomplished quite well.

Jason forced a smile. "Sorry, just got my mind on some things. Um ... you doing all right?"

Frank chuckled. "Never better! What a difference a weekend makes, huh?"

"Uh, yeah ... just what did you do this past weekend?"

"Oh, just did family stuff, you know."

"I thought you were having trouble with your family."

"Yeah, I was, but that's all been taken care of."

Jason felt his heart thump as he contemplated this. "So what exactly did you do?"

Frank appeared to hesitate a moment, as if searching for the right words. "Let's just say I have a much better relationship with my stepsis and stepmom than I had before."

Jason swallowed. The darkness around Frank seemed to writhe in excitement and pleasure at these words. "Uh ... that's ... that's good to hear."

"Damn straight it is, man. Finally gonna get things going my way, you know?"

Jason took a deep breath and looked at Frank squarely. "Frank, you remember my phone call to you last week, right?"

Frank paused and looked a little nonplussed for a moment. "Uh ... yeah, I think so, why?"

"That call was important. Did you listen to me?"

"Well ... I didn't really understand it completely." He paused again and laughed. "Hell, I guess I don't remember it all that much."

"Frank, you didn't ... do anything to anyone? Over the weekend, that is."

"Huh? Do anything? What's that supposed to mean?"

Jason wasn't sure how to word it. He didn't know if calling him out on it was going to get himself into trouble or not. For all he knew, Nyssa didn't know that he could see auras again. He might be risking her finding out if Frank got called back to the nurse as Jason expected he would be today. "Um ... nothing. Forget it. Glad to hear that things are working out at home."

Frank grinned. "Better believe it."

"Frank, you want to come over to my place this afternoon for a bit? We can ..."

Frank was already shaking his head. "No can do, dude. Got more family stuff to do." There was a lascivious glint in his eyes.

"Okay, never mind then."

Frank grinned widely. "You know, you could come over to my place instead."

"Um ..."

"You'd really like meeting my stepsis." Frank grinned. "At least I know she'll like meeting you."

Jason felt a chill pass through him. "Uh ... maybe some other time."

Frank shrugged. "No problem. Hey, your other friends will be getting on the bus soon. I'll head out so they can sit next to you. See ya, man."

Frank grinned impishly one last time and headed to the back of the bus.

Jason took a deep breath and let it go in a noisy sigh. He had been tempted for a moment to take Frank up on that invitation. Of all his reasons for doing so, most of them had to do with wanting to see exactly how much damage Frank had done and understand what they were up against.

It was the remaining reasons that had convinced him to turn down the offer.

"So, same shit, different day?" asked Richie as the five met in the parking lot.

"If by that you mean do we do the same plan today as yesterday, then yes," Jason replied mildly. "Look for more people being taken by Nyssa. Though I don't think you'll find anyone else."

"You still think she's going to call back the ones she took last Friday?" Melinda asked.

"Makes sense. Yesterday, she called back all the ones she took Thursday."

Richie just sighed to himself as he listened to this but said nothing in response. He shook his head slightly, though none of the others saw it.

"I tried talking to Frank on the bus when he got on," said Jason. "I think he did go ahead and do something, and I think it was to his stepsister."

Melinda screwed up her face in disgust. "Ewww!"

"What's with the 'ewww'?" said Richie mockingly. "It's his freakin' stepsister, not his real one."

"It doesn't matter. A sister is a sister. Doing your own sister is just way gross!"

Heather shifted her weight nervously, her eyes darting to her little sister's body for a moment. She swallowed and averted her gaze, folding her arms tightly across her chest.

"Look, the point is, he did something he shouldn't have regardless of his relation to her," Jason said. "It's not like it's 'okay' to mind-control some people but not others."

"You mean he can, like, control his stepsister?" Richie asked. "Get her to do whatever he wanted?"

"Where the hell have you been the last few days, huh?" Melinda piped indignantly.

"Shit, don't get your panties in a twist, okay? I'm just askin'."

"Richie, it should be obvious to you of all people," Jason said. He gave a slight nod of his head towards Cassie.

Richie turned his gaze towards Cassie. Cassie drew her arms around herself and blushed slightly.

"Yeah," Richie said in a low voice. "Yeah, I guess you're right."

"I didn't even have to think about it," Cassie said in a hollow voice, her eyes shimmering. "It ... it was just like everything was supposed to go that way and it did. He just ... just did what I wanted and ..."

"Yeah, yeah, we get the picture," Richie grumbled.

"Sorry," Cassie said sheepishly.

"Don't be," Melinda declared, shooting a glare at Richie. "That's useful information, Cassie."

"I think you can assume, Richie, that anyone taken by Nyssa has the power," Jason said. "At least insofar as it's directed at whoever the subject of their fantasies is."

"And I think it's only directed at the ... uh ... v-victim," Cassie said softly. "When I found out that Melinda was following me and confronted her, it never entered my head to do anything to her."

"By the way, how did you know I was following you, Cassie?" Melinda asked.

Cassie shrugged. "It was like I just knew. I don't know how."

"Does anyone else have anything to add before we go inside? Heather, are you still having funny feelings that something's wrong?"

Heather nodded. "Yes, it's a little worse today. I wish I could tell you more than that. If I really can see into the future, it's not very far."

"Yeah, you got that flash about Richie only when we were already on the bus," Melinda commented.

"So if I'm not getting anything more than this, whatever it is, it's not going to happen today."

"My dreams were a little clearer last night, Jason," Cassie said. "The silver stuff that she was carrying in her hands? I got the sense now that it came from the student. So she's definitely taking something from them."

Melinda looked revolted. "That's ... that's just gross ..."

"Everything's gross with you," Richie grumped. "Shit, it's not like Nyssa's taking their organs or something."

"Ewww!"

Richie rolled his eyes. "I give up."

"Well, it can't be good, whatever it is," Jason said. Though he admitted to himself that he could not see what was worse than having one's free will taken away. He would almost prefer to lose an organ rather than his will.

At least that's what he had felt after he had the misfortune of running into Gary and his new "girlfriend" Sally the day before. His mother had sent him to the store shortly after getting home from school, and he had spotted them along the way. He had known Sally indirectly, simply because he liked to know who the other intellectuals were at the school, even if he didn't feel like competing against them. It had chilled him to the bone to see a bright, intelligent girl reduced to a giggly, slutty bimbo in the space of a few days.

"We better get inside," Heather said, looking around at the now nearly empty parking lot.

"Yeah, let's go, we've beat this dead horse enough," said Richie. He headed inside, the others trailing behind him.

Jason jogged to catch up with him and followed him to his locker. "Hey, Richie, wait up a sec."

Richie turned his head as he got to his locker. "Whassup?"

"I wanted to ask you if you knew when you'd be done with detention."

Richie shrugged. "Dunno."

"What, you mean they didn't tell you how long it would be?"

"Not really, no."

Jason frowned. "That's not good, Richie. If they know that you're trying to help us fight the Darkness, they may be trying to stop you from ..."

"Look, put away your conspiracy theories, okay?" Richie snapped. He sighed. "That has nothing to do with it, dude. It's all about me, 'kay?"

"I don't get it."

Richie rolled his eyes. He grabbed some books from his locker and slammed it shut. "Miss Davis says I have to stay in detention until I start doing the work for the class."

Jason stared, as if waiting for the other shoe to drop.

"What?" Richie was forced to ask.

"Well, have you started to do the work?"

"Nope."

"When are you?"

Richie shrugged. "Maybe never. Dunno."

"Richie, what the hell are you doing? You want to stay in detention?"

"It's not that bad. What else do I have to do during the school year? No one wants to play baseball anymore after school."

"Richie, it's really not helping us to have you staying behind in school every afternoon when we meet in the parking lot. Then I have to catch you up on everything afterward."

"And you're doin' a great job of it. Anyway, what the hell do you need me for? You've got Cassie the Wonder Weirdo in the group now."

Jason frowned. "Is that what this is about? That we have her in the group? You resent that?"

Richie snorted. "Why would I resent having the person that tried to fuck with my head in the group? Course not."

Jason sighed. "Look, I'm not asking you to like her, okay? But she's giving us good information. You may think her dreams are weird, but they appear to mean something."

"Well, then, I guess she's doin' more than me, huh?"

Jason paused. "Wait, is that what this is about? You feel you don't contribute enough to ..."

"Shit, will you stop fucking analyzing me?!" Richie exploded. "Ya think maybe it's a little simpler than that, brainiac? Like maybe I'm just tired of this shit?"

A long silence. "You don't want to be in the Harbingers anymore."

"Yeah, the fucking light dawns now, don't it?"

"Why?"

"Because I'm tired of it. I don't want to deal with any of this shit. None of this is gonna help my Mom."

"Richie, I really wish we could help her. If we knew how, we would. Honest."

"So maybe I wanna wait until you know how. Maybe I need to start havin' some priorities."

Jason stared at Richie. "C'mon, man. We need everyone we can get."

Richie remained silent for a moment. He then turned and banged a fist on the locker in frustration, muttering a curse under his breath.

"It just seems that everyone is gettin' something out of this except me, you know?" Richie muttered. "You and Melinda get each other. Cassie gets someone that will listen to her weird shit. Heather gets the power to see the future or some crap like that. Fuck, even the people that Nyssa messes with get something out the deal!"

"Yeah, at the expense of someone else's free will!" Jason snaps. "Like what almost happened to you."

"Yeah, well ... maybe if it had, I wouldn't be thinkin' of this stuff. Fuck, Jason, for a second there it was like being on some awesome acid trip. Nothing to worry about. Don't have to think about nothin'."

Jason stared at him. "You can't be serious. Is that what's on your mind when you think about the people that got enslaved to Nyssa's minions? Is that what you think about with Sally Franner?"

"You think Sally even knows what happened to her? What does she have to worry about now, huh?" Richie paused and then snickered.

Jason frowned. "What's so damn funny?"

"Enslaved by Nyssa's minions?" Richie snorted. "Sounds like a line outta some B-movie, dude."

"Then you come up with something better! Look, I just need to know, okay? Are you going to help us or not?"

There was a long pause. Richie gave a shadow of a smile. "Yeah, yeah, sure. What else do I have to do with my time? Sure, I'll watch for more of 'Nyssa's minions'."

Jason cast a lingering, angry gaze at Richie before turning and hurrying off to class.

"Hey, Heather, wait up!"

Heather turned just as she was about to walk away from her locker. "Hey, Diane, what's up?" Heather said with a small smile.

Her smile faded when she saw the distressed look on Diane's face. "Heather, um, you have a minute? I need to talk to you about something."

"I've got homeroom in a few minutes, so it will have to be quick. Sure you don't want to wait for lunchtime?"

"It's kind of important."

Heather nodded slowly. "Is something the matter, Diane?"

Diane bit her lip. "That's just it, I don't know. It's my mother."

"Your mother? What's wrong with her?"

"I'm not sure. I know this isn't making any sense to you ..."

"I think you skipped something there, yeah," Heather said with a small grin. "What's going on?"

"Well ... and please don't be angry with me for this ... I told my Mom the stuff you told me about the nurse."

Heather's eyes widened. "Diane, you didn't!" she said in a lower voice.

Diane cringed. "I'm sorry, but ... b-but my mother really knows when I'm upset about something and I had to tell her ..."

Heather took a quick, deep breath. She felt a chill come over her. "Okay, what happened, Diane?"

"My mother decided to talk to the school about it. They wouldn't talk to her over the phone, so she went down herself yesterday morning ..."

Oh no! Heather thought desperately. Oh, please don't tell me it's going to be just like Richie's Mom ...

" ... and now she's ... she's okay with the whole thing, but ... in a really weird way. It's like she's too happy about it, like ..."

Like she's getting off on it, Heather though, shivering.

Diane sighed. "I sound stupid, don't I? I'm probably worried about nothing. I just never saw her act like that."

Heather searched for something to say to Diane. She couldn't come right out and tell the poor girl that her mother has just been affected by the Darkness. Even if Heather could convince Diane of what she was talking about, what good would it do? They couldn't help Diane's mother any more than they could help Richie's mother.

"Well ... maybe she was, uh, just really happy that nothing was wrong," Heather finally said. "I guess maybe we were wrong about the nurse. Sorry to scare you like that."

Diane shook her head and managed a small smile. She looked a little more relaxed. "No, it's okay, I want you to tell me these things. Well, if you really think there's nothing wrong ..."

"Pretty sure of it, anyway."

Diane's smile widened. "Good. I have to admit I was starting to get worried myself. Listen, if she calls me down before you, I'll let you know how it went, okay? And you do the same for me if you get picked first?"

Heather swallowed and nodded, forcing a smile. "Sure, Diane. That's what friends are for."

Diane started away.

"Oh, Diane, wait!"

Diane turned. "Yes?"

"Was it Principal Bendon that your mother talked to?"

"Yes, it was. Why?"

"Just curious, that's all. I'll see you at lunch."

Diane nodded and grinned again before heading off.

Jason ran his fingers through his hair. "All right," he sighed as they stood near the auditorium later that morning, just after Heather related her encounter with Diane. "I suggest we make a new policy. We don't let anyone else know about what we suspect about the nurse. We can't have more parents getting ... getting affected by the principal like this."

The others, except Richie, nodded. Richie looked somewhat bored.

"I just don't understand why none of them are noticing anything on their own," Heather said. "I mean, poor Sally, she's been so changed by this that I can't see where her parents could ignore it. How can they ignore their daughter going from intelligent to brainless in a matter of days?"

"We talked about that the other day," Jason said. "There's some sort of influence at work, something that's making people not notice what's going on."

"If Nyssa can do stuff like that, what the fuck chance do we have against that?" Richie grumbled.

"Well, she can't be all-powerful, or it would be affecting us as well. And you guys have told me that some of the other students are talking about it."

"Oh, God, who isn't!" Heather said with a roll of her eyes. "Sally and Debby are the two big ones. Everyone's totally confused over them."

"See? It must be limited in effect, so they do it on the ones that matter."

"Like all the adults," Melinda said with chagrin. "The ones that could stop it."

"And Diane's mother?" Heather asked.

"Yeah, and mine?" Richie demanded. "Try not to forget her, okay?"

"I'm not," Jason said. "There's just so much to deal with at once. And I told you guys before, I am not the leader of this group. Anyway, I don't know. I guess occasionally someone is able to break free of the influence and they have to ... uh ... take care of it more directly."

Richie snorted. "Yeah. Great."

"But at least it shows a limitation, Richie. We have to find a way to build on that somehow. You know, that could help your Mom eventually."

Richie said nothing at this. He simply averted his eyes and glowered.

"My own parents at least have an excuse," Cassie said with a roll of her eyes. "They barely take any interest in my life at all. I doubt they noticed I was any different when I was, um, under the influence."

"I'm actually kind of glad at the moment that they're not. It lets you do most of the legwork for tracking down anyone else Nyssa takes."

"Nyssa's minions," Richie sniggered.

Jason glared at him.

"So did anyone see any new people with auras?" asked Melinda. "I didn't."

Cassie, Jason, and after a fashion, Richie, all shook their heads.

"I did," Heather said softly. "But ... I don't think he was taken, I think he was a victim, since his aura was not as dark. Jord Rand."

"Jord?? But that can't be right, he's Yvonne's brother, and Yvonne is ... is ..." Melinda suddenly looked horrified. "Oh, ick! Ick ick ick! Gross!"

Richie rolled his eyes.

"I'm gonna be sick ..." Melinda groaned, grabbing her stomach.

"Melinda, don't be so melodramatic," Heather said.

Melinda whirled around to face her big sister. "Don't tell me you don't care that she's boinking her own brother! Oh, ewww, it sounds gross just to say it."

"We better not talk about this all that much in the hall," Jason said in a lower voice. "I don't think that rumor should be getting out, just in case we're wrong."

"God! I hope Nyssa doesn't do anything more like that," Melinda said in a weak voice. "That's just so sick and perverted and twisted and ..."

"Okay, okay, we get the picture!" Heather cried suddenly. "Can we please drop it?"

Melinda eyed her big sister for a moment before muttering, "Sorry ..."

"Jason, I did see Frank coming out the nurse's station earlier," Cassie said. "So I guess that means you were right that she was calling back the ones she initially took."

"Yeah, I think I saw Yvonne near the nurse's station as well," Melinda said.

Jason nodded. "Okay. Keep looking for new ones today anyway, but I'm betting it will start up tomorrow instead. So tomorrow is Thursday. If they follow the same pattern, they won't try to finish what they started until Friday, so this will give us a chance to figure out who their victims are."

"To do what?" Richie demanded.

"To try and stop them the next day, of course."

Richie snorted. "Huh, yeah. Easy as pie, right?"

Jason sighed. "Right now, it's the only thing I can think of to do. It's the only way to make any tangible progress."

"Too bad that 'tangible progress' can't be Nyssa just giving up and leaving," Melinda muttered.

Jason said nothing in response to this. He did not want to reveal that this was exactly what he had been hoping for, as unlikely a scenario as it was. Unfortunately, it was also the most plausible outcome he could come up with that did not involve all of them eventually falling to her.

Richie stuffed the books from his last class into his locker and slammed the door shut. Now he was off to his daily dose of detention.

He was getting used to it. It was almost like having an extra class, with the added bonus that it was the easiest one in the school. He just had to show up to "pass" it. Far easier than actually doing the work to get him out of detention.

He ran into Jason on his way to the lab area. "Nope, nothing to report," Richie drawled. "No more minions sighted today."

Jason still was not appreciating that joke.

Richie wasn't sure what to think anymore as he turned the corner and headed into the lab area. What did they want from him? And what was he going to get out of it in return? He didn't want the world. He had learned he couldn't have that without hurting someone. If he had learned anything from the House, it had been that.

But surely he could have something? His life was crap enough as it was. Surely he deserved better than that. It would not have been so bad if he got something out of it. Perhaps if his mother stayed home more often in the evenings. Or she would be freed of whatever influence the Darkness had over her.

Not once did he ever attempt to connect the two.

Richie strolled into the chemistry lab, glancing over to the desk where he expected to see Marcie Fuller. At least lately he seemed to have more to look at. He never knew she had such nice legs until she started wearing the skirt and heels.

He stopped barely a step into the classroom when he saw someone else standing there instead.

"Sit down, please," said Linda Davis, gesturing to one of the seats in the front row of tables.

Richie's lips drew to a thin line as he tramped heavily into the room and dropped loudly into a seat.

Miss Davis regarded him sadly for a moment and crossed the room. She closed the door, then quietly took a seat next to him. "So, Richie ... how long are you going to keep doing this?"

"Keep doing what, Miss Davis?" Richie said crisply, folding his arms tightly. "I'm just showing up for detention like I usually do."

"That's exactly what I'm talking about."

"You don't want me to show up for detention, Miss Davis? I'll get in trouble if I do that. You know I never, ever want to get into trouble at this school, Miss Davis. I ..."

"Richie, stop it!"

Richie fell silent, and just stared at her.

Miss Davis sighed. "Why are you doing this?"

Richie did not answer, his eyes hard and cold as they regarded her.

"Who do you think you're punishing by not doing the work in the class. Me?"

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Yes, you do. You're trying to play some game here. If you at least made a half-hearted attempt to do the work, or handed in incomplete assignments, I'd say you were just being lazy. But to do nothing ... that crosses the line into vindictive."

"I can't possibly figure out what I'd be vin-dic-tive about, Miss Davis," Richie replied, making a mockery of the word.

"Oh, I think you know. It's the same thing this has always been about, isn't it?"

Richie lapsed into silence, though his eyes took on an angry look.

"I made a mistake," Miss Davis said. "I had admitted that. I am sorry for what happened. But it doesn't make any sense to continue this sparring."

"I really don't ..."

"Or playing stupid games! And you're far from stupid, Richie." Miss Davis paused. "Look, I hate to see any student like this. Yes, I care about my students. That includes you. What will it take to get you to do the work for the class? What is it exactly that you want from me?"

Richie stared at her for a moment. Images flashed through his mind, first of real memories of her watching his games and flirting with him afterward. This progressed to imagined memories, of what he had wanted to happen after that, and what he still wanted to happen.

Something of what he was thinking must have made it into his eyes, or his face, for Miss Davis backed off visibly. "I see," she said softly.

"I didn't say a word, Miss Davis."

"No. You didn't have to."

"So you can read my mind now, Miss Davis?"

She narrowed her eyes. "I cannot control what you think or feel towards me. And I don't necessarily want to. But you cannot let this affect your actions, Richie. You're going to have to find a way to move beyond this. Do you understand what I am telling you?"

Richie understood exactly what she was telling him. Yet his resentment over what she had done combined with his other frustrations was making it impossible for him to be anything other than stubborn and recalcitrant. "Can I ask a question, Miss Davis?"

"Of course you can."

"If I keep not doing the work, what will you do?"

Miss Davis gave him a forlorn look. "Why is that something you feel you need to ask?"

"You said I could ask a question. That's my question."

"I really don't know, Richie. I can't just keep you in detention like this. This is not supposed to be a substitute for doing the work, it's supposed to teach you to actually do it."

"I guess I don't see where cleaning up labs is gonna do that, Miss Davis."

Miss Davis rubbed the bridge of her nose and stood up. "You know, you're right, Richie. It won't."

Richie allowed himself just a very small smirk at what he perceived to be a victory.

"Go to your locker and get your textbook and notebook."

Richie blinked and stared.

"We're going to use this time constructively. You're going to use your detention time to actually do the assigned work, and you will not leave until it is done and I am satisfied with it."

"What??"

"Go get your textbook and notebook. Don't make me tell you a third time."

Richie was aghast. He couldn't believe this. It was as if some tried and true tradition had been broken here at Haven High. And this teacher -- no, this hot blonde pretending to be a teacher -- had the nerve to be the one to do it.

He glowered at her as he stood up. She returned it with equanimity. "This is how we will conduct detention, Richie. So you have a choice. You can either agree to do the work on your own at home, or we keep doing it like this. It's your decision."

Richie took a deep breath to calm himself, though it did little good. His hands remained curled tightly into fists as he stomped across the room and out the door.

In his mind, it was no decision at all. Before, he had one: do the work or not. He had chosen one course of action and was satisfied with it. Now she was forcing the other choice on him. He wondered how she would feel to have a decision taken away from her.

Or for that matter, all decision taken away.

He grabbed his books and slammed his locker shut, his thoughts growing as dark as the mutterings under his breath.

Marcie had just finished shutting down her computer and was gathering up her things. She was relieved not to have detention duty that day. In fact, it appeared that Linda Davis would be taking it over from her at least where Richie Gardner was concerned. That was fine with her; she did not want another repeat of the debacle that had happened the week before.

And, truth be told, now that she had become comfortable with showing off her legs, she much preferred to be outside where people could actually see them.

She had just grabbed her purse and started to turn towards the exit.

"Marcie."

Marcie gasped and spun around, a hand going to her breast. "M-Miss Bendon!" she cried, startled. "I-I-I didn't know you were still here!"

Laura smiled at her from just inside the doorway from her office. "Sorry to startle you," she said softly as she stepped up to Marcie. "I wanted to talk to you before you left for the evening."

"Um, okay. What can I do for you, Miss Bendon?"

"First I wanted to ask you how you've been doing with your new office attire."

Marcie broke into a wide smile and giggled. "I'm actually rather liking it, Miss Bendon," she said. "I'm a little surprised, but ..."

"Oh, no need to be. This is perhaps what you wanted all along."

"What I wanted ... um ..." She gazed into Laura's eyes and slowly nodded. "Yes, Miss Bendon. I guess you're right."

"Of course I am, Marcie. Now ... would you like to go for a little more?"

Marcie blinked a few times in confusion. "Go for a little ...?"

She stopped and watched as Laura reached forward and gave the sleeve of Marcie's somewhat frumpy blouse a tweak. "This really isn't you, you know. Not anymore."

"It ... it isn't? But ..."

"You really ought to get something that's a little more in line with the skirt you're wearing." Laura paused and took a slow stroll around Marcie's body. Marcie whipped her head around trying to follow. She flinched as Laura continued to tweak her blouse occasionally. "Something a little more tucked in here ... a little tighter here ... oh, and short-sleeve, definitely ..."

"Er ... but ... but I don't have anything like that, Miss Bendon."

Laura came to a stop in front of Marcie. She took Marcie's arm and smiled at her gently. "I can help you take care of that. Just like I did with the skirt and the shoes."

"Oh, but Miss Bendon, you don't have ... to ...?"

Marcie's eyes met Laura's again. "It's no trouble at all, Marcie. And I think you'll appreciate the results."

Marcie nodded slowly. "Of course, Miss Bendon," she said softly. "When do we go?"

Sandra threw open the door from the garage and was nearly shoved into the door frame when Richie pushed past her and stomped over towards the stairs.

"Hey," Sandra called out. "Hey! Hey, Richie!"

Richie stopped just as he was about to take the first step and turned around. "What?"

Sandra took a few steps towards him and put her hands on her hips. "You were a total grump in the car on the way home. Not your usual detention-happy self."

"Yeah, so?"

"So what's up?"

"Nothing."

"Bullshit."

Richie just stood there, looking at her in defiance.

"Richie, come into the kitchen with me."

"Huh? What the hell for?!"

"Because I need a fuckin' beer and I wanna talk to you, that's why. Any other questions and you can assume the answer is 'because I'm your mother and I said so'."

"Yeah, some mother," Richie muttered as he tramped across the dining room and into the kitchen behind her.

"Yeah, and I fuckin' heard that, you little snot," Sandra snapped. She open the fridge and snatched a can of beer from it before slamming it shut. She leaned her backside against the counter as she opened the beer can. "Now, what the hell's the matter this time?"

"Look, why are you doing this, huh?" Richie demanded.

Sandra paused to take a long pull at her beer. "Doing what?"

"Act like you care. You keep givin' me more and more shit lately askin' me where I'm going, where I've been ..."

"What, and I'm not supposed to?"

"You never gave a flying fuck before! Why now, huh?" When his mother rolled her eyes, Richie blew up. "And don't give me any bullshit anymore! Gimme some fucking straight answers!"

Sandra paused a long moment. For just a second, fear shimmered in her eyes again. It didn't last long. It was getting better, the more she accepted that her son was free of whatever had possessed him back in July. She could not see the Darkness as Richie and his friends could, but she had other ways of sensing it.

She took another long drink before answering. "I'm worried about you, Richie," she said in a lower voice.

Richie paused. The concern in her eyes was genuine. "What the hell are you so worried about?" he said, trying to make it sound flippant, but his conviction was weak.

Another long silence. Sandra appeared to start to speak several times and then stopped. Finally, she said haltingly, as if forcing the words out, "Richie ... this town ... there's ... there's something wrong with it ..."

Richie's jaw slowly dropped.

Sandra's eyes glistened. She took a deep breath and let it go. "Haven, Richie ... there's something ... b-bad about Haven ..."

Richie's heart thumped. It really did look like she was struggling to speak.

Sandra swallowed. Sweat was breaking out on her forehead. "Don't ... d-don't trust anything ... nothing is worth ... n-nothing ..." She started panting.

"Nothing is worth what? Nothing is worth what?!" Richie demanded desperately.

Sandra was trembling. She shook her head quickly.

"Fight it!" Richie screamed. "Goddamn it, FIGHT IT!"

Sandra's mouth dropped open and her eyes opened wide as she stared at her son. In that moment, they both understood that the other knew something of the Darkness. They had not named it, but it could be nothing else. Both wanted nothing more than to tell the other everything they knew about it.

But this was impossible.

Sandra uttered a single low moan. She shuddered and closed her eyes. "I can't," she said softly. "Not ... not anymore. I ... I tried once more and ... " She stopped and swallowed when she began to tremble again.

"Principal Bendon," Richie said simply.

Sandra drew her breath in sharply and let it go slowly. She gave the barest nod of her head.

"You can't do this, Mom. You can't do this! You can't just give in!"

Sandra closed her eyes again and tried to calm herself. Already the Darkness was trying to fill her mind with more acceptable thoughts, the kind that made her wet, the kind that demanded she give herself to sexual pleasure in exchange for keeping its dirty little secrets quiet.

"I don't have much choice," Sandra said in a husky voice. She shuddered again, her pussy throbbing softly in swiftly increasing arousal. Her hands gripped the edge of the counter behind her. She moaned softly.

Richie started to back away in horror.

Sandra leapt from the counter. Richie yelped and tried to get away, but Sandra grabbed his arm before he could turn and held it tightly. Richie felt cold fear creep up his spine as he looked into his mother's glazed expression.

"Listen to me, Richie," Sandra said in a voice so sultry it made Richie cringe to hear it from his own mother. Now the words flowed like honey, and sounded just as sickly sweet to his ears. "If you can't avoid it ... if you can't fight it ... remember this, Richie ... you can be controlled ... or you can be a controller ... "

Sandra paused. Her pussy strained at the edge of release. Yes, she thought good thoughts now. Yes, she would be rewarded soon. Very soon.

"You're given that choice at least," Sandra said in a husky whisper. "Make the right one ... make the right ... one ... uhhhn ..."

Sandra closed her eyes again and let go of his arm. Richie staggered back as Sandra stumbled into a chair, spreading her legs wide as she throbbed in orgasm. The pleasure suffused her body and mind, reinforcing her conditioning. She was a good girl again. She had done what was wished of her. It was pleased with her again.

Richie fled.

As her orgasm wound down, the Darkness cruelly retreated from her mind for the time being. Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes as she slumped over the table, burying her head in her arms. She sobbed softly into the tablecloth.

Marcie stared at the mirror. It was as if a different person were staring back.

Her eyes darted down a lithe and trim body. The top clung to her like a second skin. The two nicely-shaped globes of her breasts were beautifully outlined.

"I-I don't know, Miss Bendon ..." she said hesitantly.

"Why, it looks wonderful on you, Marcie. I never knew you had such a nice figure."

"But, Miss Bendon, it ... what? I have a nice ...?"

"A nice figure, Marcie. Look." Laura gestured towards the mirror. "What do you see?"

Marcie looked again. One of her bra straps had shifted. She reached up and snapped it back into place, and her eyes became saucers when she saw her breasts jiggle.

"Oh my ..." Marcie said softly, blushing.

Laura smiled. "See? Now others can see them a little better."

Her blush deepened. "I th-thought they weren't supposed to, Miss Bendon," she whispered.

"Well, they should be able to see their shape, anyway. And yours have a lovely shape."

Marcie giggled. "Oh my ... Miss Bendon, you're ... you're embarrassing me again."

"Like I said before, there's no need to be." Laura placed a finger under Marcie's chin and directed the girl's gaze into her own. "No need to be ashamed at all. Especially around me."

"Oh ... um ... o-of course not, Miss Bendon ..."

"Now ..." Laura directed Marcie's eyes back to the mirror. Marcie blinked and drew in a deep breath. "What else do you see?"

Marcie's eyes darted downward. "Oh! It's too short, Miss Bendon."

"How's that?"

"Well, my ... my bellybutton is showing ..." she said, her voice dropping into an embarrassed whisper again.

"It's supposed to show, Marcie."

Marcie stared. "It is? Are you sure?"

Laura smiled. "Of course."

Marcie looked back at herself. Her smile slowly returned. "I guess it looks kind of nice," she said, turning one way and then the other.

"Oh, it looks wonderful. And I expect you to wear this tomorrow in the office."

Marcie turned to her. "In the office, Miss Bendon?"

Laura nodded. "In the office, Marcie."

Marcie looked into Laura's eyes and nodded. "Of ... of course, Miss Bendon ..."

The human mind is resilient. Even when invaded by the Darkness so completely as Debby, Karen, Irene, Mindy, Jenny, Sally, and Jord were, it instinctively holds on to its sense of self. It tenaciously clings to it like a mother protecting her child. Even when the conscious mind has been subsumed, the former self and its personality lurks in the dark corners of the subconscious.

For the enslaved, it came out in their dreams.

During the process of their enchantment, their dreams told them of the pleasures that their new masters wished of them; now they held fleeting images of what life used to be like. Every night, their dreams played out the silent cries for freedom locked away in the subconscious. Nights were restless, filled with dreams of desperation and futile attempts to escape and drive out the Darkness.

Every night, the dreams grew less intense, and less frequent. Every night, a little more of their former selves was lost forever.

The clock was ticking.

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