Complex, Story, Superior-Disgust-Lust

The Duplicitous One

There was a woman named Cayenne who lived in a time and space matrix where archetypes, souls, and the soul-less existed. In this story, an archetype is code for demons. Those with souls had a source connection to empowerment while the soul-less did not. In order for the soul-less to have power, they would call upon the archetypes to enter their bodies to create a chained relationship between themselves and the soul beings. It required creating nasty emotions that we need not get in to, but suffice it to say, disgust was Cayenne’s favorite creation.

Cayenne discovered she was a delightful, duplicitous soul-less being who was good at presenting herself as a benevolent being by day and an evil monger by night. It was fun for her. She had a following that joined her Hair Loss for Men and Women Academy because it was a problem for the souled ones. They thought by joining her club, her benevolence and specialness would love their hair back into place. It was not to be so.

Cayenne was a skilled sadist. She would travel like a shaman during sleep time to tie up, slap, and abuse her students for their soul energy. She could get away with it as the students just thought it was a bad dream and not real. She even got one student to say, “I love you, my sadist.” Cayenne would laugh from the pleasure of the power. By morning, Cayenne could write a lovely note on Facebook about her growing ethics, values, and love of vegan food.

Calling on the archetypes had its drawbacks. The archetypes were created from disempowerment, so naturally they were self destructive. Because Cayenne called upon Be-Waste archetype most often, the self destruction was inevitable. The doorway to her mind became wide open and all the districts of Be-Waste entered her permanently. She couldn’t put her lipstick on straight. She drove like a maniac. Other drivers would shout at her, “Get thee behind me, Satan.” She couldn’t decide if it was compliment or an insult.

Cayenne eventually faded away into the sunset like a bad western in which it is unknown whether the main character was shot or not. And the student who said, “I love you, my sadist,” walked out of her torture chamber into bliss.

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