Trigger

Today he decided he would sit in the back of the class, rather than near the front as he was used to. This was the day, he could feel it. It wouldn't matter if he missed some of the notes, or couldn't hear the professor because of the idiots who sat and talked all class. They'd get their just reward today.

And so would he. His eyes wandered over the more luscious of his classmates. Jacqueline, with her long flowing blonde hair, large breasts, and short skirts. Elena, whose breasts were also respectably-sized. And Georgia, and Jessica...and even a few more modestly endowed. After all, he had no idea whether he'd prefer sex with large-breasted girls or not. He just knew he preferred to look at them.

But first he had to set off the trigger.

He'd spent much time at home trying to find the innate psychic powers he just knew were there. He couldn't doubt it. And gradually he was nearing success. Aided by a diagram of the brain, he'd explored his own, methodically, and finally found something interesting near the bottom. He wasn't quite sure what it was--the diagram was a bit unclear--but what else could it be for?

Feeling a little guilty for not paying attention to the lecture, he sat back and "tuned in" to his brain. He made his way down through the convolutions, past the cerebellum, and finally to the place he sought. It was right near the medulla(he had been able to identify that), near the "brainstem".

As he started to trigger it, he paused. He hoped he'd be strong enough to handle being telepathic. In all the comics he'd read, telepaths had to be careful not to be overwhelmed by the minds of everyone around them. But he could deal with it. He was prepared. He took a firm mental grip on the switch, and then toggled it.


"How are the others doing?"

"Well, the Houde girl is still a bit shaken, but it looks like he didn't actually succeed with the penetration, and there's no damage apart from a few bruises. Mr. Longfellow is stabilized, although he's going to need extensive surgery to the throat, and the facial scarring may be permanent."

"What a sad case," the doctor murmured.

"What could have caused it?" his assistant asked.

The doctor shrugged. "Who knows? But somehow this fellow's limbic system took utter control. You know, the 'lizard brain'. I hear there's supposed to be some drug on the market that can do that, but there were no traces of it in his system. All we can do is hope that it wears off."

Inside the room, he no longer raged. He had become cunning. He would figure out a way to escape.

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The Den of Ubiquity/ Aaron V. Humphrey / alfvaen@gmail.com