Heavens Alley - Chapter 15: Puppets
People in power need to control others in order to maintain power. One of the ways to do that is to take that which is threatening and demonize it.
Marsha Stan, a.k.a The Professor.I was a teenager when I first tasted power. To be in control was exhilarating. Sometimes I would ask him to do things just to test my grip on his life, and it always amused me how addicted I was to control. I was seventeen, flunking college, living alone in an apartment that sheltered too many dope heads. I didn't do drugs myself, neither did I drink. Intoxication hampered with reasoning and I preferred to always be coherent. I had a flair for the unlawful. I enjoyed all forms of hacking, online as well as off. He was my neighbor, John Humphrey. Twenty nine, married to a lovely obese woman who stayed home to take care of their five year old daughter while he diligently worked a nine to five job. They lived on the third floor, but he always had a pit stop on his way back from work at room 202, on floor two. One day I broke in to flat 202, out of curiosity of course. I fit a small spy cam I had bought on eBay in the bedroom. On my way out I noticed a frame on the table that housed the picture of a very pretty, and definitely much too young redhead. I sat back in front of my MacBook Air that was running a live stream of the bedroom below. At 15:00 a young woman came home. She had long red hair. I twirled my own blonde hair as I waited. At 18:00 John walked in, and they indulged in what most would call unconventional sex, but I myself thought it excitably adventurous. The next day I emailed him a clipping of what I had recorded, with a note asking him to deposit a certain sum to a certain account. In the next thirty minutes the money was in my account and he was under my control.
As I grew older my methods grew complex, and my fleet of leashed humans grew bigger. I hacked into a CEOs mail account and copied records proving he was embezzling. I had SMS records of a movie producer demanding sexual favors for casting. I had a voice recording of a university chancellor making a deal to leak examination papers. A video of a woman molesting a minor. The list went on. All of them received a copy of their wrong doings and a note stating the information would find itself in the hands of the press and the police if they did not comply with my demands. They always complied. I had them running errands, transferring money, beating up people and sometimes running rounds on the street just for my amusement. They never found out who was controlling their lives. They only knew the pseudo-name: The Professor.
I moved out of my shabby rented apartment and roamed around. I visited the Louvre in Paris, marched the Mardi Gras masquerade in Colombia, cruised the Grand Canal in Venice, the list went on. It was while I was passing through the cozy city of Heavens Alley when I found the one piece I most absolutely wanted on my chess board. He was a peculiar guy, and from the moment I laid eyes on him I knew there was an air of danger about him. I followed him around and to my shock he turned out to be a cold blooded murderer. A trait none of my other pawns seemed to possess. I took up residence in Heavens Alley and I must say, the city has grown on me.
I bought a plush three bedroom condo overlooking the Gordon river, apparently named after George Gordon who rescued seven kids from drowning when their school bus skid off the road and fell in the river. This was the first time since I had left my campus apartment that I had settled down. I had all the money I needed so I spent the next few weeks decorating my new place, and I spared no expense. Two of the bedrooms got large king sized beds. In the master bedroom I installed a walk in wardrobe and filled it with all the designer clothing I picked up from my travels. A large 85" TV went in the living room. The third room I converted into an office. I didn't know what I wanted to do yet but the idea of having an office excited me. I installed a high performance workstation and prepared for my next hack.
Now, as I glided through the market, I thought about the journalist who was trying to botch up my game. She came like an unexpected thorn and stayed stuck to my side. I finally had some information on her. In the next few minutes I would meet my source and have all I needed to make sure I could get rid of the journalist once and for all.