The Emerald Needle

When Brenda got home that night, her mother knew right away something was wrong. Whenever she was happy, it was normal for her to execute a rapid movement to open the door far and wide, driven by the anxiety of sharing the good news and spreading the joy. When she was sad and depressed, the key would turn slowly, lingering for a few seconds before causing the hinges to squeak.

This may seem a trifling detail, but not to Gloria. She was always attentive to all things deemed insignificant, even more so regarding her only daughter. The moment she recognized the sound of an imminent disgrace, she jumped from her seat and hurried towards the door.

She found Brenda sitting on the stairs that led to the guest bedrooms, viridescent eyes on the verge of tears, curly honey brown hair wet and dripping and soft make-up turned into a gruesome war painting. Her clothes were also a mess, in particular the red skirt and matching open toe shoes, now covered in mud.

"What happened?!" asked the late-fifties woman as she sat down next to her daughter. "Didn't the date with Jonathan go the way you expected to?"

"You can say that..." Brenda sobbed.

"I'm here if you want to talk about it but maybe we should get rid of those dirty clothes, first..."

"No... I... I'd rather do it now if you don't mind..."

"Tell me what happened."

"There was no date, tonight. When I got to the restaurant, there was this trashy blonde with fake boobs whispering in his ear as if they were lovers. The moment I reached the table and asked what the hell was going on, Jonathan looked at me and said he was with the one he adored and that I was ancient history, now. His last words were 'You can go back to where you came from, you stupid tramp!' Can you imagine my shock when he said that, loud and clear, so everyone could hear? Out of rage, I almost impaled him with a fork but controlled myself and then I left. On my way back home, it started raining and some stupid truck driver almost ran me over. Luckily, only my clothes paid the price, but that's okay. I feel stupid and dirty, anyway."

"Son of a bitch! He always seemed so nice whenever he came over. I can't believe he had the nerve to do this!"

"Me neither but what can I do about it now?"

"You can't do a thing. But I sure can!" Gloria responded as she got up and walked into the living room. Brenda followed her.

"What's that supposed to mean, mother?"

"Oh, you'll find out soon enough... tell me, didn't he leave something of his the last time he was here?" She asked as she reached for a black box sitting atop the mantelpiece.

"One of his favorite hats, why?"

Gloria opened the box and removed something from inside it but at the time her daughter failed to grasp what it was. Without looking back, the older woman spoke again:

"Will you get it for me, please?"

Brenda didn't move, somewhat confused by what was going on, and made that clear.

"I'm not following you at all, sorry! Why do you need his hat? What are you going to do?"

Gloria glanced at her, an emerald needle in her right hand and answered in an icy tone:

"Give him a lesson."

"With Grandma's old needle and a hat?"

"I'll explain everything as soon as you bring me the hat, promise! Indulge me, sweetheart!"

"It's in my bedroom. I'll go get it," Brenda retorted and left the room, not knowing what to think anymore. It didn't take her more than two minutes to return, holding a white cowboy hat she immediately handed over to her mother.

"Now, about that explanation..."

Gloria cleared her throat before looking her in the eyes.

"What I'm about to tell you now was only revealed to me by your grandmother when she was on her deathbed. She told me that all objects have a psychic connection to the people that use them in their daily lives. Kind of like 'memories' if you will. Imprints of the experiences lived by the users are forever linked to them and even though objects don't 'talk' there are ways to access those imprints and take advantage of what they offer. This needle here can establish such a link and it was given to your grandmother by a powerful tribal chief she met in the two years she spent working at a campaign hospital in one of the poorest regions of the world. It was a sign of gratitude for saving his life and she kept it ever since, only resorting to its powers whenever needed. I never used myself ever since she died but today I will..."

"Hold on a sec... object's 'memories' and psychic connections using a needle? What kind of nonsense is that, mother? Are we talking about... witchcraft? Or something like Voodoo?"

"Not quite... it's something even older whose true name has been lost in Time but there are similarities so, for the sake of simplicity, you can use that word. This hat has Jonathan's essence linked to it and with this needle, I can reach him wherever he is and give him a little pain for what he did to you tonight! You and I both know he deserves it!"

"You're serious, aren't you? You really believe that."

Gloria sat down on a leather sofa, her face still showing the same signs of candor, but this time intertwined with a hint of mischievousness.

"I do. Your grandmother wouldn't have told me the story if it weren't true. I've held this needle in my hand countless times and whenever I touch an object with it, I can sense things beyond the invisible, the countless threads that connect everything in this world. Do you want to hold it yourself so you can sense them, too?"

"No... I... I... really don't think so... I'm sorry but that's just too much to process right now."

"I understand but I will use it anyway, Brenda. Nobody fucks with my daughter's heart!"

There was no point in trying to dissuade her so the young girl shrugged her shoulders and muttered:

"Fine... but don't get too carried away, okay?"

"You can trust me."

Gloria's eyes glimmered as she placed the hat in her lap and prepared to stab it with the needle.

* * *

Meanwhile, in a motel bedroom not very far away, Jonathan was involved in something unlike anything he had ever experienced before for he was kneeling, naked, his eyes focused only on a pair of black kitten heel boots he had been instructed to clean with his tongue.

He didn't really want to do it but he couldn't help himself as the blonde woman with the crystal pendant had made clear when she ransacked his thoughts for the first time, outside the subway station. Two hours earlier, she was nothing more than a stranger sitting in front of him and occasionally giving him a smile or two. Now, she owned his mind and body. She was in complete control and he had to obey her orders just like he had done so at the restaurant when he was coerced into sending Brenda away for her satisfaction alone.

"That's it, my entranced pet!" She cooed as he carried out her instructions. "That pleases me so much and you know when I'm pleased, your frail little intellect is pleased, too. Feel the bliss coursing through your veins, filling your brain with..."

"Ouch!" he screamed in protest, head throbbing in unexpected pain. Roxanne-for that was the Hypnodomme's true name-looked down at him, visibly displeased.

"Excuse me? What is the meaning of this, slave?"

"I'm sorry, Mistress..." he begged. "It's just that I had this horrible ache and... Oh, my God, it's happening again!" and he placed both hands on his temples as he sought to understand what was going on.

Not much for mercy, Roxanne kicked his balls as angry words spew out of her purple-painted lips.

"Are you trying to play games with me and resist my control? You know you can't! You're mine and you'll do whatever I want. Stop whining and get back to work! I want my boots clean and I want it, now!"

Against his wishes, Jonathan's tongue slithered forward. However, it never reached its destination. Another violent wave of pain had him almost convulsing on the floor, such was its intensity. It was almost like his brain was being pierced by invisible metal wires, each one going deeper and deeper. At the same time, and with no clear explanation, he also felt a weight being lifted from his soul.

Meanwhile, Roxanne's fury subsided, and she did nothing noteworthy except watch this bewildering episode take place until it was over and he was breathing normally again. She had never seen anything like that happen and wasn't sure what to make of it. She couldn't have predicted the aftermath, either.

"Finish your chore, servant!" She ordered, dangling the pendant used to ensnare him.

"Servant?!!" Jonathan cackled. "Who do you think you're calling that to, bitch?"

"You're awake?" Roxanne asked in amazement.

"Oh, yes. And pissed, too!" he confessed as he rose and swiped the pendant from her hand. "So this is what you used to mess up with my brain, right?" he glimpsed the open window to his right and, in a fraction of a second, the crystal was already flying across the air, out of the bedroom and plunging into the depths of night. "Oops, there goes your little trinket! You know, I'm not much for violence but in your case, I can open an exception." He clenched his fists and felt quite a rush when he noticed the panic in her eyes.

Aware she was no match for him in a physical confrontation, Roxanne dropped the arrogant attitude and backed away from him.

"Please, don't... I... I know what I did was wrong but there's really no need for that..."

"You think so? I remember everything you had me say and do, you worthless skank!"

Roxanne continued moving away from him as he approached her at an unnerving slow and steady pace. He was blocking the door so if she wanted to get away, she would have to go through him and that sure wasn't going to happen unless she had a secret weapon of sorts.

Unfortunately, she did. Using a moment of distraction to her advantage, she took hold of a small canister of Oleoresin Capsicum, or 'pepper spray'. Jonathan's body recoiled from the shock, disorientation, and temporary blindness. Roxanne seized the moment to run for the exit and he never saw her again.

Alone in the bedroom, eyes still burning, he washed his face and Brenda came to mind. He had to go see her in person and try to explain everything even though she would most likely not believe a word. Hell, he wouldn't if it were the other way around! But still, she was far too important to him and their relationship couldn't end like that. No way! He got dressed, grabbed the cell-phone lying on the carpet and ran to her house as fast as he could, hoping there was still time to make amends.

* * *

Brenda stepped out of the shower. Her body was clean, but not her mind, still haunted by a mix of enraging and perplexing thoughts. Her mother's story about the emerald's needle powers made no sense. However, trying to convince her otherwise was sure to be a fool's errand.

Within the heat of the hairdryer, she sought for complete peace of mind and the strength to get over Jonathan as soon as possible, the warm air all around soothing her mental wounds. The story was far from over though and she discovered just that when she heard the frantic knocks on the front door.

Gloria was the one to answer to them first, offering Jonathan a bitter expression and words of disdain:

"Look who it is... Crawl back to your hole and leave us alone, will you?"

"Hello, Mrs. Higgins..." he said, having a hard time breathing. "I'm sure Brenda told you what happened tonight already but I need to talk to her so I can explain everything."

"I'm pretty sure she doesn't want to talk to you, Jonathan!"

"She's right," Brenda said from atop the stairs. "I don't. Go now and never come back!"

"Please..." he implored. "Please understand that the things I said and done to you weren't really my ideas at all. I was forced into treating you so the way I did. That woman you saw... she... she hypnotized me or something as I was leaving the subway station to go to the restaurant and then she messed with my emotions. She asked me many questions about my personal life I couldn't help but answer and then she decided she wanted to humiliate me by acting out like a complete jerk in front of my girlfriend... Brenda, I know how ridiculous this must sound but you have to believe me! I'm telling you the truth, cross my heart!"

"You're right, Jonathan. It sounds ridiculous because it is ridiculous!" she exclaimed as she was descending the stairs with the sole purpose of shutting the door in his face. "At least, you could have tried to come up with a proper excuse instead of all that mumbo-jumbo about hypnosis and whatnot!"

"But it happened! She had this crystal pendant that made me drowsy and then it was as if I was a passenger inside my body. I couldn't do anything other than what she wanted me to and after you left, I had to follow her to this hotel and I... I had to do other things I'm not so proud of... Luckily enough, I could escape her control and when that happened I came here... Please, Brenda! Please... you know I love you and if you dare to look me in the eyes, you'll realize I'm being honest!"

Gloria looked at her daughter and then back at Jonathan, intrigued by the tale. She was the one to stare him in the eyes while rubbing the emerald needle in one of his hands.

"Goodbye, Jonathan!" Brenda exclaimed.

"Wait!" Her mother intervened, body tingling with mysterious energy. "As strange as it may seem, I don't think you should be so dismissive about his narrative. Jonathan, if you're telling the truth and you were under the influence of that woman all along, how did you break free from her clutches?"

Jonathan took a deep breath before answering:

"To be honest, Mrs. Higgins... I don't know! All I know is that I had these violent headaches like... like..." he looked at the needle. "... like someone was sticking one of those in my brain over and over again. The pain was excruciating but when it was over, I could think on my own again. It was a horrible thing to go through but also a marvelous one because it delivered me from a life of servitude I sure didn't want and that's really the best explanation I have."

"I see," Gloria said. "You know, Jonathan. I actually believe you and I think you should come inside, now."

"Mother, what are you doing?" Brenda asked, dumbfounded. "You're not suggesting that..."

"I'm not suggesting anything. I know what happened because I saw it now! We have been unfair to him this whole time. Jonathan really isn't to blame for any of the things that transpired tonight."

"Hm... not that I'm not grateful for that sudden change of heart, Mrs. Higgins but I can't shake the feeling that there's something I'm missing here..." he declared as he walked inside and the door closed behind him.

"You are but I'll tell you all about it in the living-room. Brenda, my dear, come along too, please. This is in your best interest, too."

And so the three of them sat down, with Gloria talking about the origin of the needle and all the supernatural vibrations it could register and interact with. The skeptical daughter was convinced when she was given the object and used it to touch Jonathan's hand ever so slightly. For a single moment, she shared his memories, and the experience was overwhelming.

"So, let me get this straight... You used this needle and that hat of mine over there to give me those headaches, Mrs. Higgins?"

"Guilty as charged. You had just hurt my daughter and so I wanted you to feel pain as well. At the time, I had no idea of the predicament you were involved with and I'm sorry if I got myself carried away."

"Wow... and here I was thinking my story was strange! I was wondering if you could give me a small demonstration..."

"Of course." She picked up the cowboy hat once more and inserted the needle into it gently to avoid causing him great discomfort. The bodily throbbing was instant and whatever doubts he had left, vanished.

"Oh, my God! It really works! Oh, how I would like to use that thing to punish that filthy whore that tried to make me her slave!"

"If you brought anything of her with you when you left the hotel room, perhaps we can do something about it..."

"I got nothing." he sighed. "She took everything when she ran out the door after hitting me with the pepper spray."

"That's a shame!"

Their conversation was interrupted by the sound of a cell-phone humming an unknown melody. It was coming from the inner pocket of Jonathan's jacket.

"Did you change your ringtone?" Brenda asked.

"No. I always use the default setting. That's strange..." he got up to rummage his belongings and grabbed the phone. The screen flashed blue as the device kept on ringing. He wasn't familiar with the number so he withheld the call and then scrolled through the contact list. Everything was wrong.

"This isn't mine!" he exclaimed. "It's the same model but... I'm guessing it's hers and they got mixed up in the confusion."

"That's just wonderful news!" Gloria chuckled. "Jonathan, I know you're the main victim around here but I would be forever grateful if you would allow me to be the one to use the needle against her for making Brenda sad." She held her right hand. "Can I have it, please?"

"I don't see why not," he replied, handing over the newfound weapon of retribution. "I have to ask though, what do you have in mind, Mrs. Higgins?"

"I will give her a little present..." The older woman answered, eyes twinkling. She opened the cell lid to remove the battery and all other hazardous materials, leaving only the plastic case intact. Then, she grabbed a small ball of white yarn, attached one end of the string to the needle and wrapped the phone with it.

* * *

Roxanne was sitting in the kitchen of her luxurious apartment, one she had bought three years ago, two months after she had discovered her unique talents in the art of capturing other people's minds. Despite having been purchased with some of her first servants' life savings she had never allowed one of them to enter it. It was her personal sanctuary, and she didn't want it defiled by those weak enough to be ensnared by shiny pendants and simple words.

In front of her, stood a half-empty bottle of Scotch, her favorite companion for when plans went south. To describe what had happened that way was an understatement, but it was best to play with words than to admit defeat. She was a proud woman and hated to lose no matter the game being played.

Something like that should have been impossible. For all intents, he shouldn't have been able to wake up from her trance after all the suggestions she whispered in his ear at the restaurant. Nonetheless, he had done so and only luck had allowed her to escape the hotel. More caution would surely be necessary for the next attempts because, even though she was a tad frightened with the tide of events, there was no way she was going to stop doing what she enjoyed the most and deny herself the pleasures she deserved!

"And one of these days, I will find you again and break your mind so completely that you'll do nothing but beg to kiss my ass, my feet and lick my pussy all day long!" She promised, thinking of Jonathan as she raised the glass high only to...

... let it slip her fingers and watch it shatter upon the table.

"What the hell?" she thought as she looked at her hands and realized she could no longer move them. Her fingers were pressed against each other, constrained by an invisible force that made them nothing more than ten useless lumps of flesh.

"What's happening?" she asked the empty house as she felt the bindings in the extremities of her upper limbs becoming stronger and tighter, compressing the muscles, arteries and veins within. Roxanne bit her tongue to muffle a scream, yet it came out anyway and it was a dire one.

* * *

With the cell-phone wrapped up, Gloria picked up a small piece of paper and wrote a note in it. Afterward, she used the needle to stitch it to the package and looked at the sweltering fireplace in the center of the living room. The orange flames looked right back at her, inviting her to play the final round and declare victory once and for all.