Capture

Helena looked up and waved at the security camera. Deep in the wall, a heavy thud answered, and the thick door came free. She pushed it open and entered.

Cynthia trotted out of her laboratory. Happy and relaxed, she gave Helena a brief hug, then tugged her arm towards the lab.

"I had to show you," Cynthia said.

Helena glanced at the bank of terrariums in the entryway. Meshed webs crossed their interiors, and one trembled as they passed. One of Cynthia’s black widows had captured another victim.

In the lab, Cynthia paused, scanning her workbench before choosing from several numbered spray bottles.

"I feel kind of silly. I should have thought of this myself."

“Just came to me,” Helena said. “A challenge you might enjoy.”

Cynthia pressed a bottle into Helena’s hand. "It kept me up two nights, but it works."

Taking it, Helena lifted an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

Cynthia blushed a deep crimson. She lifted another bottle. “I made this.”

Helena tried to stop her. She’d pointed the bottle at herself, and before Helena could intervene, Cynthia depressed the button and sent a cloud of mist over her own face.

Closing her eyes, she inhaled. Her body relaxed, and the bottle tumbled out of her hand and rattled on the lab bench.

"It's ok, Helena. It won't affect you," Cynthia whispered.

"Cynthia?”

"It's ok," Cynthia said, facing Helena.

Eyes soft and dreamy, she sighed. “It works so well.”

She swayed, features going blank.

“It’s the-,” Cynthia began and lost her train of thought. “the specific...”

"Specificity?" Helena asked.

The drug slowed her reactions, but she nodded. “Specificit-, t, t.”

"Specificity," Helena said. "You made one that works just on you?"

With hooded eyes, Cynthia nodded and touched her nose. “You know, Helena. You’re so smart.”

Helena looked at the bottle. "This is from the DNA I gave you?"

Cynthia nodded and reached for Helena, touching her chest. “You’re so pretty.”

Helena examined the bottle. “You’re beautiful, Cynthia.”

Shaking her head, Cynthia tangled her fingers in her hair. “Not like you. Pretty clothes. Perfect body. So smart.”

“Cynthia,” Helena said. “Let’s sit down.”

Cynthia faltered and tried to catch herself on the counter, but missed. Helena closed her arms around Cynthia’s shoulders and eased her to the floor. Cynthia’s dilated eyes stared at Helena with vulnerable adoration. Lifting her head, she placed a gentle kiss on Helena’s lips.

Pulling away with eyes closed, her face was placid and dreamy. "Wanted so much to do that."

"Cynth-"

"Kiss me back, Dr. Webb," Cynthia sighed.

Her body becoming more and more loose, she snuggled into Helena’s arms.

“Feel so safe with you,” Cynthia said. “Nothing bad could ever happen.”

She lifted her mouth and kissed Helena again.

Seeing the defenseless expression, Helena’s desire fired, but she had more work to do. Indulging would cost her time.

"You've been testing this on yourself?" Helena asked.

A slow nod with a mischievous smile. “Dreaming of Dr. Webb holding me. Kissing me.”

Cynthia’s hips undulated. Helena chuckled. “More than dreaming.”

Cynthia’s eyes focused for an instant, intelligence behind the arousal. Her hips paused; she started to speak, but her eyes found Helena’s. Intelligence faded into dreamy need. She blinked, slow, laden with want.

"I could show you," Cynthia said.

Helena bent and placed a kiss on Cynthia’s mouth. “Show me.”

Not able to meet Helena’s eyes, she rolled onto all fours. With concentration, she lifted herself onto her feet and went to a door at the back of the lab, drifting like a sleepwalker.

Cynthia paused at the door at the back of the lab, looking over her shoulder to ensure Helena followed. She lifted a key from a pocket, unlocked the door, and pushed it open before disappearing inside, her movements slow with anticipation.

As Helena followed, Cynthia began to strip, leaving a trail of a shirt, soft gym pants, and a bra.

Helena had never seen Cynthia’s bedroom. Unlike the lab's clean order, it was a disaster. The sheets of the enormous bed were a swirl. Clothes lay amongst the sheets, including dark stockings and a brightly-colored bustier. Around the bed, stiletto heels, mules, and strappy sandals lay in discarded heaps.

But, at the foot of the bed, a clear space had been carved out. A device in the shape of a half circle lay on the floor, flat side down, an electric cord snaking from it and disappearing under the bed. A control module was attached with twin dials. A sybian.

Naked, Cynthia went to it and mounted, swinging a leg over and lowering herself onto the phallus. Guiding it into herself, she gasped and settled onto the device. With a languid motion, she lifted the controls and presented them to Helena.

“Control me, Dr. Webb,” Cynthia said. “Please.”

Helena had waited at the door. The room spoke of hours, even days of obsessive need. Touching the bottle in her pocket, a rush of her own arousal created an ache.

With head bowed, Cynthia hadn’t moved. She only held out the controls.

Helena went to a dressing table and grasped the back of a chair. Setting it down before the sybian, Helena sat, crossing her legs. She extended a hand. Cynthia reached and placed the control in it.

"Please."

Examining the dials, one controlled the vibration rate, while the other controlled the rhythm. With an experimental twist, Helena turned the first dial.

Cynthia jolted and gasped. Swaying, her hips began to grind.

Helena stretched her shoulders, pushing back against her own arousal; she had other business.

Adjusting the lower dial, Cynthia reacted with every adjustment, and Helena tuned through the settings, finding one that matched the rhythm of Cynthia’s body. Cynthia had stopped speaking, only making small sighs and gasps in rhythm with the device. Helena turned the first knob up one level.

"Oh." Cynthia placed both hands on her thighs to balance.

By gentle increments, Helena added intensity, and Cynthia’s body played like a marionette, moving in response to each change.

Reaching the middle range of intensity, Helena edged the dial up. As she did, Cynthia’s writhing on the device paused, and her body began to stiffen.

Helena twisted the dial to off, ending the vibration.

Grunting, twisting, and exhaling, Cynthia forced herself against the device, trying to create the stimulation the device had been giving her. Helena laid the control on her lap, lifting her hands from it. After trying to force an orgasm and failing, Cynthia opened her eyes. Glassy and full of need, she pleaded with her expression before speaking.

"So close."

Helena waited while Cynthia’s rising arousal deteriorated and left frustration in its wake. Cynthia swallowed and gave in, waiting with small, frustrated sighs.

Helena lifted the control panel and returned it to the lowest setting.

Like an addict, Cynthia’s body drank in the stimulation. Chaotic and needy, she ground against the device. She looked into Helena’s eyes, unable to speak. Desperate, animal need was all her brilliant mind could offer. Helena raised an eyebrow and turned the knob up half a setting.

Eyes clenched shut, Cynthia’s body moved at Helena’s command.

While Cynthia’s motions grew more chaotic and needy, Helena became more still. Her own arousal clawed at her, painful and aching. She sat with the tension, relaxing against it, controlling it as she did with Cynthia.

Helena turned the dial up.

Climbing the rising arousal, Cynthia tilted her head back as though she could see orgasm above her like the finish line of a race. Her movements became more focused and even, and the pained frustration on her face cleared.

"Yes."

The rhythm lost an edge of its regularity, interrupted by spasms at the edge of orgasm. Helena left the controls untouched.

Cynthia’s body shuddered, beginning to freeze into a final spasm.

Then, Helena twisted the dial to the off position.

Frozen, Cynthia strained. Her body starved for stimulation, but the device was silent. She opened her eyes, the expression needy and helpless. Helena met the gaze with calm power.

“This is what the spray does?”

Cynthia nodded. “So powerful. Please.”

“And you’ve been frustrated like this since you took it.”

A tear escaped Cynthia’s eyes and glistened. “Need you. Please.”

Helena lifted the spray bottle from her pocket and turned it over.

“I’d be disappointed if this didn’t work.”

“It works. It works. I promise.”

Helena turned the device to its lower setting. Cynthia’s body moved on its own while she looked at Helena with soft, submissive eyes.

"You need to look at me, Cynthia," Helena said.

Cynthia nodded, eyes locked on Helena’s. Helena turned up the dial.

The pleasure caused Cynthia’s eyelids to droop and try to close, but she caught herself and widened them so Cynthia’s bare need faced Helena’s iron control. Helena turned the dial up further. Cynthia grunted, then grunted again.

“Look at me, Cynthia,” Helena said.

Nodding and vibrating, her body trembled. Helena turned the dial up again.

“Please, please. It works. Please,” Cynthia said.

Helena added an increment of intensity, just past the highest level they’d used.

With eyes wide, Cynthia’s body went still while the device continued buzzing. At the moment of release, her eyes closed for an instant before flying open. Helena left the device running, and a second, then a third orgasm followed.

Her face a mask of relief and desire, several orgasms froze Cynthia into a taut statue until she bent forward and braced herself on the edge of the device. Helena left it running, and another orgasm ripped from Cynthia’s body.

“It works,” she whispered. “It works.”

Her own arousal tearing at her control, Helena looked at the spray bottle and left the device to run. Rising, the sound of Cynthia’s tortured pleasure echoed in Helena’s ears as she stepped into the bathroom.

Looking at herself in the mirror, her hunger looked back at her. She was close. The pieces were in place, but her desire wanted resolution now. Getting to the finish meant holding the tension. She felt the ache and told the need behind it that she’d make it wait forever, smiling when frustration clawed back.

“Only a little further to go,” she whispered.

Pushing herself, she pushed the hunger in her eyes down. She told herself that she was concerned, empathetic, even a little smitten. Julian would be nervous, and she could tease, letting him know she saw it and enjoyed his unguarded attraction. Checking her watch, she had an hour before their meeting.

Returning to the bedroom, she found Cynthia slumped on the device, her body jolting with aftershocks. Helena turned the sybian off, lifted Cynthia onto the bed, wrapping her in the sheets and blankets and placing a kiss on her cheek.

***

Helena navigated through the flashing lights of traffic just after sunset, mulling Jules’ eagerness and Sentinel’s wariness. When she arrived at Jules’ house, he met her at the car, holding the door open and helping her out.

“How was your first day, Madame Director?” he asked.

Helena squeezed his hand and stood close. He tried to close the car door, but she blocked it, staring into his eyes as his hand brushed against her hip. Helena raised an eyebrow.

“I just- Trying to get the door.”

“I see that,” Helena said.

“Could you? I don’t want-“

She took a quarter step, and he pushed the door closed, brushing her hip again. He rubbed his hand where he’d touched her before gathering himself and gesturing to the house.

“How was your first day?” he asked.

“Busy, lots of forms,” Helena said.

He nodded. “I heard Sentinel visited.”

Helena stopped. “Where did you hear that?”

His eyes searched, then he shrugged. “Saw it online, I think.”

She’d not told anyone, and no one at the asylum had known.

“Where?”

Jules looked from Helena to the door. “Come inside. I’ll check my phone and show you.”

“You can’t remember? I didn’t think anyone knew.”

He sighed. “Please. Come inside.”

Nerves, different than his shyness and attraction, played over his face. He was lying, and he wasn’t good at it.

“I thought about you all day,” he offered. “I started on your suit.”

Helena took a half step back. “What else did it say about Sentinel?”

He looked skyward. Helena followed the gaze. The dark sky overhead was clear, and aside from the hum of distant traffic, it was quiet.

“It said that he had flown over the tower and landed. They saw you talking to him,” he said.

“Can’t see inside the battlements from below, Julian.”

She turned and took a step towards her car.

Behind her, the gravel rattled as Julian chased after her. “Helena, please. Don’t go. It was just some rumor. Maybe he didn’t come. I don’t know.”

Helena kept walking and reached the back of her car. Julian had stopped halfway across the driveway.

“Helena, I just want to see you. I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

He approached, placing a hand on her car. Drawing a breath, she faced him.

“I’ve been thinking of you, too. I worry that you might have been spying. You’re wealthy enough to hire people for that, and I won’t be watched that way.”

“No, I didn’t. I just heard a dumb rumor. Please come inside.”

“You didn’t have me followed?”

He shook his head, his face pleading.

Drawing herself up, she nodded. “Ok.”

He slumped with relief. Walking ahead of him, she entered the house and heard the latch close when he locked it behind her.

“Let me show you,” he said and gestured to the staircase leading to the basement.

“You’re finished already?” she asked as she scanned the kitchen and living room. No one was there. In the night outside, nothing moved.

“No, just getting started,” he said and went to the staircase. He paused at the top and gestured down.

She approached and paused at the head of the stairs. They disappeared into a shadow with no bottom.

Julian’s smile was tense and uncertain. Helena took the first step down, holding the handrail as she descended. Julian’s steps followed hers.

At the base of the stairs, an electronic lock glowed in the dark next to a door with the bulk of a bank vault. Julian reached past Helena and entered a code. The door buzzed, and he pushed. It swung inwards.

Stepping inside, lights flickered on to reveal a sleek electronics lab with a central workbench. On it, the beginnings of a suit like the one she’d worn the prior night lay next to a laptop. The laptop’s power lights glowed, but the screen was dark.

When the vault door locked, Helena relaxed. Julian went to the laptop and pushed a button. The screen came to life, reflecting in his eyes. After a few key presses, he turned the screen so Helena could see.

It showed a crisp bodycam image of the interior of Cynthia’s apartment. Julian looked at Helena with betrayal as he reached around and tapped a keyboard button. The video began to play.

It showed the scene where Sentinel rescued Helena from Marlowe in Cynthia’s apartment. The video slowed when Sentinel approached Helena, freezing on a single frame that showed Helena lifting a mister bottle and depressing the button.

Julian only looked at Helena. No accusation. He turned the laptop towards himself. He began to type.

“August 12th. The mayor visits Dr. Helena Webb. August 14th, confidential payroll is robbed by a random gang of street thugs with no prior indication of sophisticated robbery. October 3rd, the Mayor visits Dr. Helena Webb. October 5th, confidential payroll was robbed again despite extra safeguards.”

Julian raised his head and looked at Helena. before going back to the laptop.

“On October 7th, Dr. Helena Webb was rescued from a low-level street thug named Carlo by Sentinel. Carlo, despite physical evidence tying him to the robberies, has no memory of planning or executing the robberies. Also has no memory of Dr. Webb despite having dinner with her twenty minutes prior.”

“I think she gets it,” a voice said from the far end of the lab.

Julian looked towards the voice. Sentinel stepped from a doorway, a gas mask muffling his voice.

“I’d hoped to take more time, but you recognized the suit,” Sentinel said.

“Helena,” Julian said. “Why?”

Sentinel approached, his eyes focused and wary. His bulk seemed to brush the walls, and his head seemed close to bumping the ceiling. Helena wanted to retreat, but she held her ground, looking to Julian before Sentinel’s body blocked the view.

Stepping between Julian and Helena, he scanned Helena’s body, then clenched his eyes shut. After clenching his jaw, he opened his eyes and scanned Helena’s body again, stopping at the pocket of her coat. Dipping two fingers in, he retrieved the mister Cynthia had given her. Triumphant, Sentinel turned and held it up for Julian to see.

“This was for you,” Sentinel said and smacked the mister onto the table.

Turning back to Helena, Sentinel didn’t smile. His face was grim, even disappointed.

“He’s been talking about you for months,” Sentinel said. “Made me think you’d already dosed him.”

Helena looked up and met Sentinel’s eyes. “Call the police.”

Nodding, Sentinel’s lip curled. “You have the mayor. No chance.”

“Then what?” Helena asked.

“I figured a dose of your own medicine, Dr. Webb,” he said, lifting the mister. “A confession after. I have to admit to its strength. You almost got me.”

Helena looked at the mister. Pushing down the nerves in her chest, she met Sentinel’s eyes.

“Do it.”

“No,” Julian’s voice called from behind. “We should call the police.”

Sentinel didn’t turn. “She owns the police, Julian. She’s everything we talked about.”

“Julian, before he doses me, know that I care for you. Whatever I say after doesn’t matter. I like you and wish we could have had something,” Helena said.

Sentinel crooked a finger and moved towards the end of the lab. A metal examination chair waited under an overhead light. Moving beside it, Sentinel gestured for Helena to sit. She glanced at Julian, then went to the chair. Sentinel strapped her limbs to the chair and closed another across her waist.

A camera sat on a tripod in front of the chair. Sentinel pushed a button on top. Sighing, Helena looked into the polished lens as a green LED came to life.

“Ready,” Sentinel called to Julian.

Stricken, Julian typed into the laptop. “Recording.”

With a grim smile, Sentinel approached. “Deep breath, doctor.”

He depressed the button on the mister, and cool mist wafted over Helena’s face. Closing her eyes, she breathed in. Sentinel set the mister on a side table and pulled off the gas mask.

“Let’s give that a minute.”

While the cooling fan on the laptop whirred, Helena lay with her eyes closed. The straps over her wrists and ankles had been pulled taut, and the tips of her fingers felt cool. The remnants of the mister droplets still clung to her face.

Looking at Sentinel, she challenged his anger, facing it. The intensity in his eyes grew, and he began to tap his leg.

“Tell me how you manipulated the mayor. Hypnosis? Simple seduction?” Sentinel asked.

Helena turned her head to Julian. “The mayor is a powerful man in a difficult job. Like anyone in that position, especially an honorable person, he struggles with the weight of responsibility and competing interests that he must balance. He comes to me for perspective and for assistance in clarifying his own thoughts.”

Julian’s eyes softened, then searched as though he heard something he’d never considered.

“But, you have influence, and several high-profile robberies which occurred in close proximity to your sessions did occur,” Sentinel said.

Helena continued to look at Julian. “Crime happens in the city every day. Any coincidence in time could link my therapeutic sessions with those crimes.”

Sentinel stood and loomed over Helena. “You hypnotize the mayor, don’t you?”

Helena met Sentinel’s eyes. “I help the mayor.”

With a quick gesture, he lifted the mister. He held it close to her face and depressed the button. The mister hissed, and the droplets coated her face. She closed her eyes, then opened them, meeting Sentinel’s gaze. As his anger grew, she relaxed while holding his gaze.

“What do you do with the mayor, Helena?” Sentinel asked.

“I help him,” she replied. “The kind of help powerful men need when they forget that they are men first, not superheroes.”

His suit creaked as Sentinel closed his fist. He’d drawn his arm back like a bow, fist coiled at his shoulder. Helena remembered the power she’d felt inside that suit. Afraid, she pushed it down and stared into Sentinel’s eyes.

“You’re right-“, she whispered.

Triumph dawned on Sentinel’s face. They stared at each other. He’d won.

“Jason,” Julian called out.

At the mention of the name, Helena looked to Julian, then back to Sentinel.

“Jason?” Helena asked.

With a deep frown, Sentinel turned. Julian shrank.

Returning to Helena, Sentinel bent forward. “What about Carlo?”

“Men approach me sometimes, Jason,” Helena said. “I can’t predict or know ahead of time who might be attracted. I’m often surprised by who finds me attractive.”

She looked at him and raised an eyebrow. He closed his fist in frustration, and Helena braced.

“Jason,” Julian called from behind. “Let me.”

Grunting, Sentinel stalked away. Julian approached, sitting on a stool beside the table.

“Helena, he showed me the evidence. You’re in a number of places and associated with a number of people, and over and over, unfortunate events or criminal activity happen in close proximity. If it were one or two, I could say coincidence, but there are so many.”

“I’m strapped down, Julian,” Helena said. “Look at what’s happening.”

“We did an analysis on the spray. There was residue on his costume. Pheromone compound,” Julian leaned forward and whispered. “He’s admitted that he wants you, and he believes you did something to him.”

“Jason has taken on the role of something more than human. It’s difficult to see when your friends go too far; you care too much to see the truth. I don’t know why he latched onto me. Obsession is difficult to understand from the outside.”

“Mental imbalance doesn’t create pheromone compounds, Helena.”

“Yes, but Cynthia does. I suppose your research showed she’s publishing a paper on it? If it’s so potent, shouldn’t I be begging you to rip my clothes off, willing to say anything?”

His eyes went to the mister, then to Sentinel, who paced at the far side of the room.

“Try it,” Helena said. “It’s a spider pheromone. That’s all.”

He began to reach, then stopped.

“Too many coincidences, Helena.”

Helena blinked. “Just don’t let him kill me, ok? Knock me out first. Something. If I matter to you at all, just give me that.”

Shocked, Jason shook his head. “No. We wouldn’t.”

“He’s getting angry. There’s no way for this to end. I’ll lie if you need me to. Just tell me what I need to say. I just don’t want to die.”

“I wouldn’t let him.”

“The mister doesn’t do what he says, Julian. It’s in his head.”

Jason looked over his shoulder. Sentinel had stopped pacing and watched with his arms folded.

“Please save me, Julian,” Helena said. “I need you.”

“What’s it going to be?” Sentinel’s voice echoed from across the room.

Julian looked at Helena, his face unguarded. She pleaded with her eyes but didn’t speak. Julian grabbed the mister and rose.

He walked the length of the lab. Sentinel bent, and they began to speak in harsh whispers. Sentinel shook his head and pointed towards Helena. Julian glanced at her. While Sentinel looked at Helena, pointed, and spoke, Julian’s hand lifted.

Helena didn’t hear the hiss of the mister, but Sentinel’s face showed betrayal that melted into confusion. He stared at his friend as his body weakened, and he collapsed to the floor.

Helena took a breath. Cynthia had succeeded. The spray had been tuned to Sentinel’s DNA.

Julian looked down at his friend and shook his head. He almost sprinted to the chair and undid the straps. He lifted Helena to her feet.

“I’m so sorry,” he said. “I know you can never forgive me.”

Helena reached for the mister and closed her hand around it. “Call the police, Julian. We’ll get Jason the help he needs.”

Julian went to the workbench and lifted his cellphone. Helena walked to the far end of the room and knelt. She sprayed a dose from the mister onto Sentinel’s face.

His eyes flashed, staring up at her as though from the bottom of a deep well.

She touched his cheek. “You’re going to be a special project, Jason.”

As she kissed his cheek, Sentinel’s entire body shuddered.