How Evil Dies: Chapter 2 – Happiness and Pleasures

Chapter 2 – Happiness and Pleasures

“Hurry up!” I whisper as loud as I can.

The teenage girl tries her best to keep up with me as I escort her out of the slave auction.

“I’m trying my best,” the girl says.

“You’re going to need to try better if you want to get out of here, now come on!”

I sneak the girl passed her enslavers, guards, and people who would buy her. We go through cracks in the wall that we can hardly fit through and keep to the shadows as we make our way through the Sense district.

“Are you going to tell me why you’re helping me yet?” the girl whispers.

“Because I rescue girls like you and bring them to a better place. Why do you think we’re able to sneak around so well? I’ve done this dozens of times,” I say.

It also helps that the people here are wrapped up in their pleasures, drugs, and alcohol. We make it to a dumbwaiter in a dark corner of the district where no one else is.

“Get in here and I’ll send you down. From there, keep going straight until you see a tall woman. She’s my associate who will lead you the rest of the way out to somewhere better,” I instruct.

The girl does as I say and then says, “I don’t know how to thank you enough.”

“Don’t mention it.”

After pressing the button and sending the girl down, I could swear that I hear her screams. There’s the possibility it could be the screams of someone in the distance or my imagination because I know that I’ve lied to her and sent her to a life of slavery. The girl was a virgin who came from the Business district and in the Sense district, virgins are highly sought after and those who can provide a virgin to the Sense are highly rewarded. I’ve been itching to get an overdose of pleasures and drink for a while now. Thankfully, I was able to get this virgin to the Sense before any of my competitors could.

This girl who came from the Business district did so out of desperation and to escape the chaos happening there because a fool destroyed the main generator powering the district. Speaking of him, he still hangs as a living example to others. In the first couple of days of the chaos, he was pelted with thrown objects, but now, he’s left alone though he can’t be happy. I’ve even heard that he’s soiled himself. Even though what he did was stupid, I should thank him one day because his actions have brought more people to the Sense district not only because this district doesn’t rely on the generators powering the complex, but because there’s plenty of work and pleasures, most of all.

To feel and be happy and experience pleasures is the point of life. There’s no other reason to keep on going if there’s no reward that makes you feel alive. Everyone in the Complex works to obtain a happy life full of what they desire. I’m no different as I work day and night so that I can live forever in a life of pleasures. As I pass by a boutique where body modifications are done, I look at myself in one of the many mirrors. The description under the mirror reads, “Your perfection can become even more perfect!”. That marketing line may work on others, but it won’t on me. I know that I’m already perfect.

Every part of my body, every modification I’ve made is perfect. There’s not a single flaw in it. Not in the mouths that I have nor the curves of my body. Nothing needs to be changed. I am perfect the way I am. Every part is perfect, except for the collar around my neck. I wear it as a symbol of being a worker for the Sense who rules over this district.

The Sense is whoever is the most respected, powerful, and has access to the most pleasures and is named after the district because of it since everything goes through them. This current Sense is a woman or at least was until she mutated her body by combining her body with her slaves. Looking at her again as I report back still unnerves me. All her arms, extra fingers, her connected red eyes, and griotique phallic mouths are a few of the things to stick out, but the bodies writhing in her own as if they are still alive are the most disturbing things. I can even still make out the heads and faces of the previous people she’s fused with her still barely showing. My eyes could be playing tricks on me if I’m really seeing these people move slightly every now and then.

“You did well in getting me the virgin girl, Fallacia. Would you like to have a taste of her after I have my fill?” the Sense asks with her multiple mouths.

Looking over at the girl, I see that she’s wrapped up in red veins, which are root-like living tendrils. The girl struggles as the red veins overwhelm her senses with pleasure. She pathetically cries for help along with spurts of laughing here and there as lust takes over her mind. These red veins courses throughout the Sense district and are an attraction and reason to be here for many. Despite how good it may make you feel, I’d rather not lose my mind while experiencing pleasures. The hangover is worse than the hangovers I get from even the most potent drugs and strongest drinks.

“No, thanks. I’d rather enjoy the pleasures that come from my reward instead,” I say.

“Very well then. I can respect that. I wouldn’t want someone’s leftovers and would like to experience the pleasures I want in my own way too. You may have your due reward.”

After snapping her many fingers, the Sense’s slaves present themselves to me with crates of drugs and alcohol on their backs. They follow my command and bring themselves to my house where we have a week-long party filled with orgies, overdosing on drugs, and drinking more than our fair share of the finest wines. This is what I want the rest of my life to be. This is my Heaven. By the end of the week, the slaves who haven’t died as a result of overdosing, drinking, or having violent sex walk out or are carried out of my house.

“Wait,” I say while struggling to stand up and keep the slaves in my house, “The party isn’t over yet. We can have so much more fun together…”

I pass out and am barely able to do anything, so I rest for the day. This is the kind of hangover I expected to have and don’t mind since the short but sweet week that gave me was so good. Later after taking some medication and getting some rest, I head out to one of my coworkers to find more work and am surprised at what I hear.

“All the good fish from the Business district are caught. Everyone of interest was caught within a week. Everything else is small fry, as usual, Fallacia,” my coworker says.

“What? Already?” I say.

“Yes, already. I told you not to get too wrapped up in your reward when the iron was hot.”

“But my reward was everything that I could’ve ever wanted! I had to enjoy every second of it for the week that I had access to all of it.”

“I’ve also told you that’s how the Sense gets you to be lazy and desperate to work for more rewards. I suggest that you take odd jobs and keep an ear out.”

“Wait a second. You gave her more virgins and people of interest, haven’t you?”

“I have and that has rewarded me with enough to last me a month. You could join my party if you’d like.”

“I’d rather not. The last time I was the lifeless plaything of the party and had to spend two weeks in the hospital afterward.”

“That’s because you were a lightweight. Still are in some regards.”

“Tch, whatever. Go enjoy your just rewards. I have my own to earn.”

For the next couple of weeks, I prostitute myself to whoever will accept me for pay and to listen in for possible targets. During this time, I hardly get any enjoyment out of my clients since what they desire to do to me is too weak for me who is used to rougher things and harder drinks. Regardless, I have to feint that I’m enjoying myself to get paid. By the middle of the third week, I quit doing odd jobs and ask the Sense if there’s anyone she desires that I can bring to her.

“My pool of interest is rather shallow at the moment. I appreciate you coming here to ask me, Fallacia. You know if you’re desperate, you can work here in my den of debauchery for two weeks,” the Sense suggests.

When she suggests something, you have to do it, so I do. In contrast to my odds jobs, I’m hardly able to stand what the Sense and her clients do to me, especially since the red veins are involved that overload my senses with feelings of pleasure and happiness. During this time, I see the girl who I previously brought here. She has completely changed from when I last saw her. The innocent look she once had is gone. Now, her face is a mouth and her body has multiple orifices to be used by the clients and is dressed with red veins in a pervasive pseudo-dress. She’s lost herself and is nothing more than a puppet of pleasure just as I am at the moment. Instead of being used and abused for two weeks, I’m used for a month as expected. By the end, I have to rest at my house for half a week to recover. At least I get paid a month’s wage rather than two weeks.

That’s it! I’m not going to be used by anyone anymore. I’m the one who’s going to be on top rather than someone’s play toy. From all the odd jobs I’ve been doing, I can afford the basic necessities for at least two months, which means I have to do more for a while. I concentrate on finding valuable assets for the Sense for the next month during which, my craving for pleasures grows. It doesn’t help when I see people indulging in their own, so I try my best to keep my eyes away from it, ignore the sounds, and not think about it. This is easier said than done as I start to feel withdrawn and sick and have to take medicine to stop my shakes and headaches.

A month passes and I come up with nothing at all. I’ve gone so long without my fix in what makes me feel good and happy that I’ve gone numb. In my mostly quiet house, I consider what I should do, which is dangerous. The Quiet could get to me and make me do something stupid like it does with other people that it influences. Even the sounds of moaning and screaming aren’t enough to stop the silence from beginning to overtake me. My resistance is futile as a stillness takes hold of my mind and calms it and my heart into a calm dreamlike state. Soon after a quick nap, I feel rejuvenated in a way that I haven’t in a while.

In an instant, crazy thoughts begin to fill my head and hit me like a brick wall. Thoughts of no longer indulging in what gives me happiness and taking it away from others are a couple of the thoughts that come to me. The one about leaving my addictions behind me is the most absurd. What’s somehow less absurd to me is the idea of getting rid of the red veins. It’s what most pleasure-addicted people come here for. If I can get rid of the red veins, then more people will have to rely on people like me for their pleasures.

One crazy man’s actions brought valuable prey to this district so why can’t an insane skank like me do the same? I’ll never yearn again for attention or lack of desperate losers looking for their fix of lust. No longer will I have to rely on the Sense to give me what I want and her main source of income will be completely lost. She’ll have nothing left when I burn the red veins that she tends to as if they were her children. My Heaven will be a day-in-and-out reality rather than something I live in on occasion.

First, use the various empty bottles I have to put flammable oil into. Next, I put them into a bag and keep a lighter in a separate pocket of the bag. Wouldn’t want the chance of me setting myself on fire. Lastly, there’s getting to the root of the red veins, which is the easiest. All the veins lead to the main root and get bigger the closer you get. Those who can afford it are given an easy way to access them since the bigger the veins, the more overwhelmed your senses will be. Some have even died from the overdose they got when they got next to the main root. In addition, I’ll have to watch out for the Sense who may be tending to the red veins at the moment. I’ll have to be careful and endure the sensations if I want to make it out of this with my life and mind intact.

Going to where the veins are the largest, I find an orgy of mind-broken slaves, prostitutes, and their customers pleasuring each other and themselves while wrapped in the red veins.  The sight invokes some disgust in me for some reason. Maybe it’s because I’ve been trying to ignore it for a while or because what they’re doing is too extreme even for me. Further in, the red veins cover more of the ground, wall, and ceilings. While avoiding the touch of the veins, I have to step over the dead bodies of those who overdosed too much on pleasure and those whose bodies are overwhelmed by the pleasures they’ve been experiencing.

The red veins become harder and harder to avoid until I have no choice but to step close to them and even walk on them. I do my best to ignore my senses, but it’s almost impossible to do so, especially with all the red veins I’ve been touching and seeing the orgy around me. It gets to a point where I unintentionally touch the veins and then intentionally do so before completely losing my mind and self-control. The thought comes to my mind that I should resist these sensations and silence them, but why should I when this is all that I’ve wanted? My entire life’s goal is to feel nothing but happy and constant ecstasy and I’ve found it here!

I take place in the orgies around me until I’m more than satisfied. When I’m done, the red veins strike my nerves again and make me go in again for me again and again. After about the fifth time, I remember why I’m here, but I still want to indulge in the seemingly endless pleasures around me. At this point, I struggle to even stand in place as I keep having to pull myself back from going back into the orgies. What can I even do at this point? There’s nothing I can do to resist my desires. Maybe…maybe I do need silence.

It's in this moment where I give control over myself to the silence that I begin to regain control of myself weirdly enough. Continuing to do so clears my mind and allows me to reach the main root of the red veins that looks like a beating heart. I then pour out the bottles of oil on the veins and light it up without a second thought. Soon after, the red veins shrivel up, and the structures around me that the veins supported crumble. I do my best to escape but end up under the rubble and knocked out.

When I come to, I think I’m still under the rubble, however, I see that I’m trapped in a small, cramped hole with my arms, legs, and body impaled with spikes. I can hardly move with my knees up to my face and when I make the slightest movement, I feel immense pain. Someone must’ve put me in here after what I did. My answer as to who it could’ve been is answered quickly as the door to the hole is opened and it’s no surprise that’s revealed to be the Sense.

“Hello, Fallacia,” she says as if she ran to get here and has the worst intentions for me in her head as if this isn’t bad enough.

“What is this?! Why am I like in this hole?!” I ask.

“Because you burned all the red veins, my main money maker is gone besides my slaves. That has earned you this particular punishment but also my respect. In a way, you interest me more than anyone else I’ve ever met. No one has ever made it to the heart of the red veins and come out with their sanity intact. Not even me. I want to do things to you beyond your wildest imagination for as long as I live. We’ll become one in the same body and enjoy the joys of pleasure together forever.”

“I know your sick tastes and I refuse to take part in them.”

“You didn’t let me finish. You’ll also have a say in what we do. I’ll even let you have control over our body as long as you let me have my way when I want it. If we come to a disagreement, then we can dispute it in the most tantalizing of ways. Think about it. You’ll be in ecstasy for the rest of your life.”

“My answer is still no. I don’t want to share a body and my pleasures with anyone but myself.”

“Suit yourself then. I’ll keep you here and keep coming back from time to time to ask again. You’ll subside on stale bread and dirty water and be kept alive whether you like it or not. I promise you that one day you’ll break and be mine so we can enjoy the pleasures of life forever and ever. Goodbye for now.”

As soon as the Sense closes the door to my cramped hole, I immediately begin feeling regret. What was I thinking when I chose this kind of existence for who knows how long? It’s the Quiet’s fault I’m like this right now. I know you can hear me think about you. You did this to me and made me do the things I did. It’s deafeningly quiet now, so you might as well explain yourself to me. That’s right. I can hear you now. Tell me why it was worth doing what I did. Tell me more about yourself. Tell me…if there’s any hope for me.