The Calia Files
by ysgrifennu
This story was inspired by a prompt given from the CEO of CaliaCorp.
Detective Inspector Michael Smith was easing himself gradually into the day, feet up on the desk, perusing the morning paper.
Businesses Feline Fed Up After Break In.
For the third time in as many weeks, the police have, yet again,
been caught flat footed and clueless, unable to prevent the latest
break in at a shop in the city centre. Finding his coffee still a bit hot, he set it down and continued reading.
Mrs. Bucket, owner and operator of the shop Mink Dynasty, came to work
yesterday morning to find her entire stock of furs stolen. Following
the burglaries of Tim's Tool Shop and Angela's Antiques.
Not much is currently known about the culprit behind these incidents
other than that they go by the name "Calia". Michael heard a sound, shattering, what was otherwise a lovely morning.
click, click, click
He groaned, wasn’t she supposed to be off for another week?
when asked for comment Police Chief Elaine Summers said...“Michael!”
...with no witnesses and no obvious leads the police are calling for“Michael!”
...and they are urged to contact...“Detective. Smith!”
No longer able to pretend that he couldn’t hear. Michael folded up the paper and turned to face his boss. “Gooood morning, Chief! Did you have a good holiday?” he said, with all the cheer he could muster.
“No, I’m here aren’t I? And don’t try sucking up, it doesn’t suit you” she said. “What are you doing here?”
“Uh… working?”
“Uh-huh” she said, clearly unconvinced. “Looks like it.”
“Sure I am” he insisted, gesturing to the paper. “I’m gathering intel on the Calia case”.
“What could you possibly hope to learn from the press, when you know their information comes from us?”
“Well…” Michael said, stalling, “you know yourself. Seeing the same thing from a different perspective might reveal…”
“Bull-shit!” she snapped. “We’ve had three incidents already. You and I both know there is going to be a fourth, now get out there and find me some leads. I want us to at least appear like we know what we’re doing when it happens.”
“Go where?” He asked, “you said yourself we’ve got nothing”.
“Somewhere that isn’t here! You’re supposed to be a detective. Now detect!” she said and marched off.
Dejected Michael turned back to his coffee, which was now cold, crap he thought, that’s his morning ruined.
Lacking any better ideas Michael returned to the scene at Mink Dynasty to revisit the facts of the case.
Front of house? Locked.
Back of house? No sign of forced entry.
Luxury fur lined coats? Gone.
Cash register? Empty, except for the pink cassette tape.
CCTV? Broken.
Fingerpri – Hold on… cassette tape?
Circling back around to the open cash register, Michael looked in the drawer and there it was. A bright pink cassette tape. He could have sworn that wasn’t there last night.
Making a note to check who would’ve had access to the scene in the last 24 hours. He pulled out his Walkman, inserted the tape and pressed play.
Mixed in with the background hiss were what he thought could’ve been voices, but it was impossible to make anything out. Clearly whoever made this was not an audio engineer. But soon a voice spoke clear over the noise, making him jump with its sudden appearance.
“Hello, Detective. I thought it was about time I introduce myself. My name is Mistress Calia.”
“Mistress Calia” he scoffed, quite pretentious if you asked him. But he took it as confirmation that “Calia” was a persona, the true identity of the burglar was a mystery.
“If I have done my homework correctly, you must be Detective Smith.”
“Hmm” he thought, interesting that she knew he was working the case. Disappointing perhaps, he was clearly on the back foot, but it wouldn’t be hard for a motivated individual to learn the identity of an officer with a public profile.
“It has become clear to me that you’re a bit lost, and could do with some guidance.”
Ok that’s new, he’s never had a subject of his investigations offer to help before. Of course, nothing they said could be trusted, but they might unintentionally let a few details slip…
“Naturally, you’re unlikely to trust anything I say, but I strongly suggest you verify my claims and let’s face it, we both know you don’t have any other leads to follow.”
Ouch.
“Go down 3rd street to Tim’s Tool Shop, down the second aisle you’ll find the cassette tapes, first shelf down, on the left. The pack will have been opened, inside you’ll find a little something from me.
He wrote in his notebook, 3rd street, 2nd aisle, 1st shelf.
“Have fun.”
The tape stopped with a clunk.
“Good one!” he thought, send me on some wild goose chase to keep me busy and away from the real evidence! No, he wasn’t going to go anywhere without good cause.
Instead he stayed in the shop and found himself listening to the tape, over and over, trying to gleam something from the background noise that would allow him to figure out where it had been recorded.
“.. could do with some guidance …”
Was that a truck driving past?
“… follow… go down … down … down…”
Lots of voices… is it a bar?
” … strongly suggest … ”
No… it sounds more open… maybe a park?
” … Tim’s Tool Shop.”
The bell chimed above his head as he entered and Michael stopped dead in his tracks, perplexed. He couldn’t remember how he got there, hell, he didn’t remember leaving Mink Dynasty. But looking down at his notes he saw “visit Tim’s” circled and underlined, so he must’ve decided it was worth checking out.
“…Have fun.”
Not realising the tape was still playing, he stopped it and proceeded down the second aisle as instructed. It didn’t take long to locate the opened tape box since most of the shelves were still bare from the burglary a few weeks back.
Inside were some newspaper clippings… a coupon for 10% off at Silver Servers and another for 20% off at Penelope’s Petstop. There was also another tape. He loaded it up and pressed play.
“Good Boy!” Calia said enthusiastically. “I’m glad to see you took my advice.”
There was something different about this tape Michael thought, there was a different quality to her voice… it seemed smoother, nicer, it was almost a shame the background was still so noisy.
“By now you should have found the coupons. These are my next two targets, the first will be hit tomorrow, the second, the day after that. All you have to do, is figure out which store goes with each day.”
Michael could hardly believe his ears, if this information were accurate (though he severely doubted that it was) she was taking an incredible risk… why?
“Why does one do anything? It’s fun. Don’t you get a rush from solving a case Detective?”
“Yes” he thought, “but if I solve this, you get taken down.”
“That’s what makes it fun detective, the thrill of the chase.”
Ok… that was spooky, almost like the tape was reading his thoughts.
“Let’s just say I’m a very good judge of character. Have fun.”
The tape stopped.
The silence in the empty store was oppressive, he hadn’t realised how intense the tape was until it was over. Perhaps he should listen to it back a few times… he might’ve missed something….
As the tape foretold, there was a break-in.
Four Forks Sake!
Reset your egg timers folks as our inept law enforcement officers fail to foil the latest break in.
This time it was Silver Servers on the chopping block, cleaned out of their entire stock of cutlery.
The Police Chief ...
Elaine, catching him reading the paper again, closed her hand around Michael’s shoulder, making him jump out of his skin.
“You. My office. Now.”
Michael had barely closed the door behind himself, when she rounded on him.
“Tell me you have something.”
“Umm yes, actually” he said, nervously.
“Really?” she looked somewhat relieved.
“Yeah…. I uh… received a tip-off the other day that there was going to be another burglary yesterday.”
“And I’m only hearing this now because…”
“I didn’t find it credible” he said meekly.
“You didn’t find it cred- Michael!” she raged “You bring me leads, I decide what’s credible!”
Michael didn’t say anything.
“Got it?” she asked.
“Y-yes ma’am” he muttered.
“Well I am y-” she started, obviously expecting some kind of push back “g-good, glad to hear it.” slightly surprised that he gave up without a fight.
“Have you got any other leads? I’ll at least give you a chance to redeem yourself.”
“Yes, I have another tip-off.” he said.
“Is it credible?” she asked sarcastically.
“Should be” he said “it’s the same source.”
The chief sat bolt upright “where? who?”
Michael, not wanting to reveal the existence of the tapes just yet simply said “Penelope’s PetStop, tonight. Anonymous tip.”
“Right, ok. We can work with this, I’ll assemble a team, you go and rest up.”
“Chief?” he asked.
“You’re doing the stakeout. I want you fresh and alert.”
“Chief, I’m n-” he started.
“I said, I’d give you a chance to redeem yourself. You’re doing the stakeout.” she said, turning her attention to planning the operation. “Dismissed.”
“Ma’am” Michael said.
He closed the door behind himself and paused. “Ma’am?” When did he ever call the chief ma’am? He must be stressed. Yes that was it.
A quick appointment with Dr. Daniels should ease his mind. After all, one drink couldn’t hurt right?
It was dark by the time Michael got home.
He wasn’t drunk, but he had had more than one drink. There was a lovely girl at the bar, reporter type, wearing glasses and a ponytail, and she seemed very interested in him and his work. One drink became two. Two became several, who knew he could be such a charmer?
Michael was fumbling with his keys when he suddenly cursed - he didn’t ask for her number!
He was still cursing his forgetfulness as he stumbled into his study and flicked on the light. Distracted by his thoughts it took him a moment to register the figure lounging behind his desk.
“Who the hell are you?” he asked.
“Well, isn’t it obvious?” she said with a playful smile.
He paused, should he know her? The nature of his work meant that he always saw new faces, he was bound to forget a few now and again. But there was something familiar about that voice… He looked at her more closely, hoping for a spark of recognition, but wouldn’t he have remembered someone clad in a skin tight body suit, complete with thigh high boots that…
snap “Hey! My eyes are up here!” she said sternly.
Embarrassed, Michael averted his eyes to the floor by his feet. That voice…
“Some detective!” she mocked “Perhaps the papers are right about you.”
That voice!
“You’re Calia” he said, locking eyes with her.
“Mistress Calia” she corrected.
“Calia.” he restated. “So why are you here? Come to steal from me next?”
“If I was, I would be gone already. No. I’m here to see you.”
“Why risk it? How did you even get in?”
“Detective!” she said, sounding a little exasperated. “Can you really not work that one out? Am I going to have leave another tape to tell you what happens in your own home? Use your brain for once and think!”
Michael suddenly realised that he couldn’t think. At least not clearly. He cast his eyes around the room looking for a sign on how Calia got in. With some effort he eventually noticed that the window, which he normally kept bolted shut, was wide open.
Perhaps he’d had more to drink than he thought.
“You came in through the window.”
“Good boy! I knew you’d get there!”
On hearing her words a tingle ran down the back of his neck. He couldn’t help but give a little shiver. Distracted, he didn’t notice her eyes light up in delight.
“Tell you what” she said, “that deserves a reward. Ask me a question, anything, I’ll answer it.”
Not about to turn down a chance for some answers, Michael decided to ignore what just happened and asked. “Why do you do it?”
“I told you already. Fun.”
“No. I don’t buy it” he said “there’s lot’s of ways to have fun, why this specifically?”
She sat there for a moment, seemingly considering her options, before saying with a shrug. “I needed to make a name for myself.”
“Go on…”
“sigh. I’m a reporter” she said, leaning back in the chair “and unless you’ve made a name for yourself, you find yourself writing endless puff-pieces and never get the chance to take on a real story.”
“So you thought you’d create one?”
She nodded. “And if some lowly reporter happens to finds herself in the right place at the right time to get the scoop…”
“Then they’d have to give it to you?” Michael prompted.
Calia made a “there you have it gesture” but didn’t respond.
Michael again, was taken aback with the apparent candour, if what she was saying is true, then she had all but told him who she was!
“So you’re…” he started to say but had to stop himself, what was her name? He should know this, it had been on enough of the front pages recently.
A devilish grin returned to Calia’s face.
“Hmm?” She prompted.
Michael could only stutter - it was on the tip of his tongue!
She egged him on. “Think Detective! Think!”
He could feel the drink clouding his thoughts again. The harder he tried to remember the name, the further it seemed to slip away.
He shook his head, it was no good, the name was gone.
“Ah, don’t worry. I’m sure it’ll come to you soon” she teased. Glancing at her watch, Calia made to stand up. “Well, it was lovely to meet you detective but I really must be going now.”
Michael came to his senses and drew his gun. “No. Now that you’re here, I need to bring you in” unable to keep the edge out of his voice.
“O” Calia mouthed, settled back into the chair and presented her wrists. “I suppose you’d better arrest me then.”
Thrown off by her sudden compliance, Michael frantically tried to recall his training. He knew that with space and a gun he was safe, but he needed to close the distance and use his hands to secure her. Dammit! If only he could just think straight…
“Detective…” she called liltingly. “I’m not going to sit here all night waiting for you to arrest me, either let me go or come and get me.”
Feeling what little power he had over the situation starting to ebb, Michael made his choice. He stowed the gun, took out his cuffs and advanced. He was just rounding the front of the desk, reaching forward to grab –
Calia’s hands sprung forward and grabbed his outstretched arm in a vice-like grip and pulled. Unprepared, Michael lost his balance, fell forward, twisting onto his back, right underneath his assailant.
His right arm was pulled up awkwardly behind his head and he had reflexively thrown his left out to try and save his fall. Unfortunately for him Calia had also brought her boot down, using the void between the heel and the sole to pin his wrist to the floor. With increasing alarm, Michael realised he was stuck.
“tsck, tsck, *tsck. Michael…” she said peering down at him so her hair cascaded around her face. “That’s not how you arrest someone.”
Michael tried thrashing his arms but it was no use. He might’ve been able to bring his legs into it, but the damned desk was in the way. Perhaps if tried -
“Are you enjoying this?” Calia said, cutting off his train of thought.
Becoming aware of his body’s growing betrayal between his legs he felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment.
“Oh, Michael. tsck tsck” she tapped his cheek. “You are letting the side down! Here we are, the city’s most wanted criminal about to make her escape and the detective assigned to bring her down is led on the floor enjoying himself.”
Michael flushed deeper still and resumed his futile struggles.
“You know, as much as I would love to stay and play, I did mean it earlier when I said I had to go.”
“But I will leave you with some advice. Next time you’re arresting a girl at gunpoint you start by telling her to snap Freeze!”
Michael felt his muscles desert him. Try as he might, he could no longer move, his arms and legs refusing to co-operate.
“Yes, struggle” she said in a silky voice “the more you struggle, the less you find you can move. The less you can move the more you will struggle.”
He no longer felt her grip around just his wrists, it now felt like she was holding his ankles down, his elbows, his knees, the spaces in between. Before long it felt like she was pinning his entire body to the floor. It didn’t make sense!
Calia stood up and picked up her bag before bending over Michael so he could see her face again.
“You didn’t think I was going to give you all that information for nothing did you?”
Michael didn’t say anything, couldn’t say anything.
“No. You see, the whole time you’ve been scrubbing through my tapes looking for clues I’ve been scrubbing through your little mind planting my triggers.”
The trouble Michael had thinking earlier was nothing to how he felt now. He could tell Calia was continuing to talk to him but none of words were making it through. The confusion he felt must’ve been apparent on his face as she smiled with satisfaction.
Straightening back up Calia said, nonchalantly “oh, you’ll find that the effects will wear off… eventually. But in the meantime… Have fun.”
Until now he’d considered her sign off to be just a gimmick, part of her calling card, her persona. But now he was not so sure. Hearing her say “Have fun” this time set off a warm pulsing glow between his legs, that felt so… good, so… comforting.
Unfortunately it also reminded him of her comments, teasing him about failing his colleagues. Every pulse of feeling triggered a wave a shame and guilt. He’d struggle, resist, desperate to stand and prove her wrong, which would only pin him harder to the floor.
But it takes effort to resist and soon he’d grow tired and have to submit - which brought back the glow, the pleasure.
Around and around he went, struggle, resist, pleasure.
Struggle, resist, pleasure, struggle, bliss.
… resist, struggle, pleasure, bliss.
… pleasure, bliss…
… struggle, pleasure….
bliss.
Michael woke on the floor of his study, aching from head to foot. It was morning, judging from the light streaming in through the window. Slowly he sat up and tried to recall the events from the previous night.
He had met her… she was apparently a reporter and…
Michael cringed.
He had failed to arrest her. Spectacularly.
What had she done to him? He may have a had a few drinks, but that couldn’t explain the state he was left in… had she drugged him?
And he still couldn’t remember her name! Knowing that not knowing would just drive him insane he decided to head straight back to the office.
“Michael, you look like shit!” the receptionist exclaimed.
“Good morning to you too, Judith!” he said as he strode past reception.
Marching straight up to his desk he picked up the paper from where he’d left it yesterday, desperate to learn the identity of his mistress.
Four Forks Sake
Report by H"pn@!i2d
Reset your egg timers folks...Michael rubbed his eyes, they must still be bleary after waking up.
Report by G£@d*2yHe tried holding the paper up to the light
Report by Dr^9d?!p#rOk… his eyes must still be messed up from whatever she drugged him with. Well, if he couldn’t read it then he’d just have to ask someone to tell him. He carried the paper over to the front desk, feeling more than a little stupid.
“Hey… Judith.”
“What’s up, hon?”
He put the paper down and pushed it in her direction. “Can you tell me who wrote this article?”
“Do you need glasses or something?” she said, pulling on her own.
“Yeah”, he chuckled nervously, “something like that.”
“It’s written by H”pn@!i2d”.
“Pardon?”
“G£@d*2y” she repeated.
Michael was dumbstruck, why was his head refusing to accept the name? He knew some drugs that could induce amnesia, but he highly doubted anything could be that specific.
“Are you feeling ok?” Judith asked, looking concerned.
“What? Oh yes!” Michael took the paper back. “Thanks”.
He drifted back over to his desk and sat down. What was the matter with him? If he was being honest with himself he hadn’t been right for a few days now.
“Michael”
He’d been so lost in his thoughts that he hadn’t noticed the Chief turn up at his desk.
“Michael, stand up” she said “I need you. to come with me.”
“I’ll be there in a minute” he said, trying to buy himself time to think.
“No. This won’t wait.”
He looked up, somewhat puzzled to realise she hadn’t come alone.
“Am I under arrest or something?” he joked.
“Yes.”
“What for?”
“Aiding and abetting, now move. Or do I have to read you your rights as well?”
The Chief sat across the table from him, arms crossed and silent, clearly deciding how she wanted to start the conversation. Michael meanwhile was sat, hands cuffed to the table in front of him, realising that for the second time in 24 hrs, he was at the mercy of another woman.
He desperately tried to banish the thought.
The Chief leaned forward and said “Michael, I don’t even know where to begin.”
“How about telling me what I’m charged with?”
“I told you already, aiding and abetting a known criminal.”
“Who?”
“Don’t give me that” she sneered.
“No, seriously, who?”
“Calia”.
“Mistress Calia” Michael corrected.
“What did you say?”
“N-nothing!” he spluttered, horrified at what he just heard himself say.
The Chief just shook her head. “Why did you do it?”
“Do what?”
“Help. Her.” she said through gritted teeth.
“What makes you think I helped her?” Michael said, confused.
“How about we start with the stakeout last night. Where were you?”
Oh god! The stakeout! What could he say? The worst thing he could do now was admit that she was in his house. Even if he could protest his innocence, how was he going to explain what had happened?
“Or would you like to explain how she knew precisely what our plans were and how to avoid us?”
“I don’t know anything about that” he protested.
“Michael. It’s bad enough that you’ve stabbed me in the back. But I would’ve thought you’d at least have the decency to be honest”
She stood and walked to the door. “Clearly I was wrong, but I’m more than happy to play hardball.” And left.
Without anything better to do to pass the time, Michael had fallen asleep. He knew this only because the scraping of the chair in front of him woke him with a start. He looked up expecting to see his chief settling in for another round.
Instead however, was a woman he’d never seen before.
“Are you from internal affairs? I’ve not seen you before” he asked.
“No I’m not, and yes you have, more than once” she replied.
“Sorry, I don’t recall.”
“tsck, tsck, you are actually terrible at this Detective business are you?” she teased.
“Evidently” he said gesturing with his hands.
“It’s the glasses isn’t it?” She reached up and took them off and let her hair down, “people mock Clark Kent but they really do work.”
Michael could only agree as the woman seemingly transformed before his eyes, into Calia. He wrestled with his emotions, he should hate her, he wanted to hate her. But now seeing her face, hearing her voice again he could only feel… excited.
“What have you done to me?” he asked.
“Isn’t it obvious yet?” she said far, too cheerfully, “I have taken your desire to catch me, twisted it, corrupted it and made it my own.”
Michael opened his mouth to argue.
Calia leant forward menacingly “I own you”.
He half whimpered, half moaned as his retort died on his lips. “H-How?” he managed to stutter.
“Ever heard of hypnosis?” she said.
“Doesn’t make it real” he said “besides, don’t you need a pocket watch for that?”
She scoffed. “That’s just shorthand for the movies. No, all I need is to do is condition you by rewarding you whenever you respond to one of my suggestions.”
“Sounds like a dog trainer” he muttered.
“Men are easier” she quipped.
Still refusing to accept it, Michael tried a different approach “But that sort of process takes time, we met for the first time last night”
“In person. But how long have you been listening to my tapes?”
“A while…” he said unnerved, “but there’s nothing on those tapes. I would have heard it.”
“The conscious mind only hears what it’s been primed to hear.”
“You’ve lost me.”
“sigh Did you ever see that Peter Kay skit about misheard lyrics?”
Michael nodded slowly.
“That’s the effect in action. He’s told you, that when he plays the song, you’re going to hear ‘just let me stable the vicar’. Then sure enough, he plays the song and those are the lyrics you hear.
You listened to my tapes searching for answers to your questions, so answers are what you heard.”
“So you didn’t suggest anything to me then.”
“Your conscious mind hears what it expects to hear, but my suggestions were there, in the background” Calia explained.
Michael thought for a moment. “Conditioning requires a reward, you weren’t there to ‘reward’ me”.
Calia’s face lit up in excitement and she sat straighter in the chair. Michael couldn’t stop his chest from swelling with pride - he had made her happy - momentarily forgetting that they were discussing his unmaking.
“This is the best part!” She said, beaming. “You felt a little rush of excitement each time you got another answer right?”
“Yes…” he said, not liking where this was heading.
“That’s the reward! You conditioned yourself, I just had to… give you a little push”.
“Fine, but now I know, I’ll see it coming and it won’t work on me anymore” he said.
She shook her head “Sorry, even when you know how it works, it’ll still get you. Besides the damage is done, my triggers are already in there.”
Michael simply looked at her, still not entirely believing what he was hearing.
Sensing that a practical demonstration was needed, Calia said
“Why don’t you just think on it some more?”
Michael felt a familiar fuzziness return to his thoughts.
“Perhaps if you think of all the thoughts you think, the thinks you thought would not think all all.”
It was like trying to think through tar. “Wha-” he started to say.
“Good boys think and good boys fall ever to think of nothing at all.”
A glow between his legs had joined the fuzz between his ears. “Please” he begged.
“Hmm, please what?” she asked.
“Please”
“Please, what?
“Pleease” he begged, starting to sound desperate
She shook her head “No, try again, think!”
Michael found his thoughts were barely coherent, but with great effort he finally managed to murmur “Please, mmmmistress.”
“snap Good boy!” she said.
The pleasure exploded from his centre, scattering his thoughts to four winds. Michael’s expression went blank.
Satisfied with her demonstration, Calia got to her feet and said. “This time I think you’ll find it quite difficult to shake the effect off, if you manage it at all. But don’t worry, I’m sure they’ll take good care of you.”