Gacha God: Just Deserts (ch. 37) (Patreon)

I am so annoyed with myself. I am so goddamn annoyed with myself. If I could punch myself in the mouth, I'd do it in a heartbeat. I almost wished for a Future Me to show up and put me down like an animal because I clearly deserved it. I had slipped up. I got over confident. I looked down on his mind control because it paled in comparison to the shit I had seen and as thoroughly unremarkable as it was, I didn't have the tricks up my sleeve that I used to.

In the end, I didn't have anyone to blame but myself for my current predicament.

And what a predicament it was.

"So, you are Sebastian. Or do you prefer Audacity?" Kilgrave questioned me, sounding entirely too pleased with himself as he lounged in a chair that we set up since we would have to monitor him. Both Peter and I stood in front of him, prisoners in our own mind. He gave the order to stand still and despite my will, I was standing perfectly still. I had no control over my limbs. Even my breathing was kept shallow to avoid moving too much.

"I prefer Sebastian. Audacity is just a convenient mask," I answered, my lips moving of their own free will. Even as I gave away the information, my mind was racing a mile a minute. Analyzing the mind control -- it was the 'silently screaming in your head' flavor, but that wasn't an inherently bad thing. I had to answer a direct question, I didn't really have much control over what was said, but at the same time what I answered with was only what was immediately relevant to the question. 'Am I Sebastian' followed by 'Do you prefer Audacity' framed the first half of the statement as a question that must be answered.

The point being was that I didn't volunteer information about the first half of the statement. I did volunteer information about the latter half because it seemed more relevant to the actual question.

Now, I couldn't stop myself from answering him. So, what if I tried to helpfully answer the question without the mind control squeezing an answer out of me?

"Quite a mask it is. I've had my eye on you for some time, ever since you showed up at Jessica's apartment," he confessed, chuckling warmly. That information wasn't that much of a shock, but I was a bit surprised that he knew that I was Audacity. "Catching you was surprisingly easier than I expected. Though, I suppose that I have dear Peter to thank for that."

"How did you get to him?" I asked, satisfied to find that I had the leeway to. Based on what I knew about his powers, I would respond how I best saw fit to obey his orders. At the moment, he hadn't told me to be his perfect minion or something, so I had some slack to play with.

Kilgrave did seem a bit surprised by the question, and that was a hint that I had toed the line a bit too much. However, He was content to answer simply because he loved to hear himself talk. "I had someone following Malcolm, who caught Peter here following him. Peter took his pictures, and when he went to print them off… an opportunity. The trap was meant for you, but he's not a bad consolation prize." So he nabbed him during that small window.

I had a question on my tongue, but the mind control wouldn't let me ask it.

Kilgrave seemed thoroughly amused, "Speak." He commanded like I was a dog.

"What order did you give him?" I asked, this time I was compelled to. The mind control was a hammer, I decided. No finesse to be seen.

"To be himself… just loyal to me and my interests," Kilgrave answered and I saw that that had been a dangerous question to ask. That explained Peter's reluctance to kill him and why he pushed so hard for the prison idea. It was rooted in his own thoughts, but his motivation had been to stop me from killing Kilgrave. "Perhaps I should give you the same order?"

"I wouldn't," I was compelled to say, and I couldn't even bite my tongue. His last command was still in effect.

Kilgrave seemed curious, "Why not?"

"I don't do well in a subordinate position. Without fail, I've killed everyone that's tried to put me in one." I answered, annoyed with myself. It wasn't terrible, though. It did distract him from giving a loyalty order, which gave me more time. Because, for better or for worse, I did have a few cards up my sleeve.

Future Me. He was the one that directed me to this location. Now, maybe Future Me had already been whammied and trapped both Future and Present Me into being a puppet for Kilgrave, but it was just as likely this was a plan. I could see my own hand at play if I took a step back -- using a me to act as bait, letting Kilgrave think that he already had me. That way he wouldn't think to look for another me laying a trap.

Jessica was also still in play. As was Ned. Not to mention, if Kilgrave made the wrong move, the Avengers would fall on our heads like a sack of bricks.

"Is that so?" Kilgrave prompted, and I was compelled to answer.

"Hard wired that way by Dad. The most I can do is an equal partnership," I said and Kilgrave seemed genuinely interested.

"Daddy issues, is it?" His habit of making starlets questions was pretty annoying but I could acknowledge that it was a clever use of his power. It was a dumb hammer, but he had years of working with it.

"You could say that. He tortured me into insanity a couple hundred times and made my siblings kill each other for his approval. I decided that I couldn't be bothered to earn it, but now he won't leave me alone," I said, and out of the corner of my eye, I saw Peter try to turn to look at me. Kilgrave narrowed his eyes at me.

"Are you lying?"

"No," I answered shortly.

He pursed his lips, "... are you sane?"

"I'm the sanest person in the world," came my swift and genuine reply. Kilgrave took a moment to process that, looking at me like an art snob looking at a statue, or something. As if he was evaluating my worth. Or, rather, what he could accomplish with me by pulling my strings.

"That sounds awfully traumatic. Here I thought I had it bad with my parents experimenting on me. What was it like having siblings?" He asked me, leaning forward as my story caught his interest. Now that I had a read on which way the conversation was going, I could move the conversation in a direction that I wanted.

His commands so far were ro stay perfectly still and to speak. I did have an ace up my sleeve, but I needed an opportunity to play it.

"Pretty awful, honestly. Sure, some of them were a little more likable than others, but at the end of the day, they were a bunch of murderous assholes. Like me. But, I suppose that comes with the territory. Being a dick is hard-coded in Devil DNA, so you're on a spectrum of dickishness." I said, and I could see that really grabbed him. He leaned in closer, fascinated by what he was hearing.

"Devil DNA?" He echoed, and if I could smile, then I would.

"The TLDR is my Dad wanted to create a perfect hybrid between humanity and himself. Knocked up a thousand women throughout history, and with each one of us he put a sliding scale amount of Devil DNA, then he made us fight to the death. Sucked, but whatever," I said, wanting to shrug but I couldn't. I could almost feel Peter's shock growing next to me, but we could have that conversation later. What was important now was getting him to ask that question.

Kilgrave stood up, "A Devil. Not the Devil?"

Fuck. "Well… no. Do you think an ant can tell who the foot above it belongs to?" I replied, forcing the response out. Wanting to answer a certain way did lessen the effects of the compelled answer. "Christianity got it wrong. Half the stories in the Bible attribute the actions of a dozen different devils and demons to Lucifer. Hell, the Bible doesn't even know that Hell isn't a place. It's a lot of places. I think the game plan was for me and my siblings to conquer them all or something."

Kilgrave held up a hand and I didn't feel the particular need to shut up. So, all commands had to be verbal. "Let's take a step back, shall we? You're siblings? They're like you, right? Able to bring about incredible items from nowhere?" I could see where his thought process was going. "Like that ring. The Ring of Nine Dragons, was it? Give it to me."

I'm going to kill him. I was already going to kill him but he was going to die in horrific agony if I had anything to say about it.

I was helpless but to comply as I took the Ring of Nine Dragons off my finger and passed it to him. I loathed him the moment he slid the ring on. "All of us had our own power. The more Devil DNA you had the stronger you were. But, Devils are… predictable. Smart, powerful, but not particularly creative with what they can do. So those with too little died off early on because they just couldn't keep up." We were back on track. We were almost there. He just had to ask the question-

"What could they do?" He asked and I could smile, I would.

"I could show you," I said, catching his attention. I was walking a tightrope. One wrong question could blow my plan up in my face and I'd lose my shot at him. I was banking on one thing -- that his interest outweighed his self control. I told him some pretty wild stuff that needed to be seen to be believed. I needed him to jump at the opportunity to see it.

Kilgraves eyes narrowed, "How?"

"My eyes. I can cast illusions with them," I told him, and I didn't feel compelled to say anything more…

I had him. "Then show me," Kilgrave instructed and if I could smile, then I would. A sharp pain erupted in the back of my eyes as my Sharingan flared to life, blood welling up in my eyes before it began to drip down my cheek. That sensation fell to the wayside as Kilgrave and I became connected by a shared illusion.

And I became free.

"What's this?" Kilgrave questioned, not sensing anything amiss just yet. He looked around as we stood in a hospital room. My eyes shaped the illusion to my will. Here, the smallest detail and things like time and space, were mine to determine. However, I wasn't necessarily the one that had to paint the illusion. I could use Kilgrave to splash paint on the canvas. Places and memories that stood out to him. Things he loved… things that he feared.

"You tell me," I responded, making Kilgrave whip around to face me, his expression one of bafflement. Like he couldn't possibly understand why I wasn't answering his question. I imagined that it must be a first for him. For a puppet to suddenly cut its strings. So, I elaborated. "Your power affects the physical body. Not the mind. Here? I'm the one in control," I told him and I saw an expression of fear etch itself into Kilgraves face. It was pretty amusing, so I couldn't help the chuckle that escaped me. "And I believe some punishment is in order."

With that, the illusion began.

The Kilgrave before me shrunk down to himself as a child, and found himself bound to a hospital bed. He thrashed and screamed, and he screamed that much louder when two people in lab coats entered the room. His parents, I presumed based on the resemblance. His terror was almost palpable as they wheeled him out of the room with sinister grins and promises that this was for his own good.

I was something of an expert on childhood trauma. A sommelier of tragedy, if you will. I could see where his trauma and fears ballooned what happened out of proportion, becoming warped in his memory to be worse than it really was. They put him in a surgery room, ignoring his begging and his demands for them to stop what they were doing. That didn't stop them from drilling a hole in his head without any anesthesia.

"So thats what it is, huh?" I asked him, leaning against a wall in his peripheral vision. "The fear of not being in control. Not of your surroundings, the people around you, and your own body. So, you conquer that fear with displays of power over others. You make them bend and break to prove that you are the one in control." Honestly, as far as traumas go, it was pretty common. Everyone feared not being in control of themselves.

They just didn't have the power to combat that fear like Kilgrave did.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry, just let me go, and-" Kilgrave was already blubbering. A little disappointing, but then again, he had never been confronted like this before.

"A little early to start begging, Kilgrave. I haven't even started yet," I told him, amused. "I told you I got a little bit of devil in me, right? So, how about I start punishing you for your sins? Jessica told us a bit about what you put her through… but, the thing is, I know you're type. You have power and you like using it. That's fair. Can't say I'm any different there. But… now, the Bible got a lot wrong. I mean a lot, but that Jesus fella got one thing right -- treat others how you want to be treated."

There wasn't a drop of mercy in my heart as Kilgrave whimpered as he underwent brain surgery by his two maniacal parents. "You didn't do that. You just waved your dick around and didn't care who you hurt. Now, I'm not one to talk about collateral damage but I do understand that one day there will be a price to pay. I understand the damage I do to other people. You don't. So, allow me to show you exactly what you've done to others." I said, and the illusion began to change.

Time was mine to control. A century could take place within the span of a millisecond if I wanted it to. I controlled his perception of it as he was freed from the hospital bed, but instead of being free to control other people… Kilgrave found himself in the exact opposite position. Completely at the mercy of everyone around him as he endured every single order he had ever given. It started as a child, and it started pretty tame.

He would demand his parents to play with him. To give him snacks and junk food. And, instead, he found himself doing chores. Eating healthy. Simple things… until one day it escalated.

His mother was displeased with him so she demanded that he burn himself with an hot iron. The opposite that had happened in reality based on the burn scar on his mother's inner forearm. The order was a first. The first time that Kilgrave had ever realized the amount of power that he had over other people. And he became drunk on it in no time at all. A wild child whose every whim had to be indulged, no matter how cruel.

Step by step, Kilgrave escalated over the course of years, going from a young child to a preteen. He survived by taking what he wanted whenever he wanted, moving from family to family and bringing ruin to them. But, as he got older, his interests in having a loving family began to change. He committed his first rape at the age of thirteen. Kids were horny little bastards. By the time he turned sixteen, he had raped more than a hundred people. By the time he was twenty, he had raped up to a thousand.

By that time, petty cruelty was second nature to him. He thought nothing of ordering a man to humiliate himself, ruin his marriage, or something as senseless as to throw scalding hot coffee in his face. His punishments became extreme -- maiming, blinding, or psychological torture very similar to what I was inflicting onto him. He made children murder their parents. He made parents abuse and murder their children. He made people destroy everything that they loved and held dear, driving themselves to commit suicide because they knew no one would ever believe them when they tried to explain.

No one would believe that Kilgrave made them do it. That they were mind controlled. Those that didn't kill themselves went crazy.

In the span of seconds for me, but decades for Kilgrave, I saw it.

I saw Jessica.

I saw Jewel.

It was little wonder why Jessica saw heroics like she did. She put on a costume, and she went out to do the right thing. To help people. She hadn't exactly been what I would describe as peppy, even back then. A realist through and through, but the difference was that Jessica had hope back then.

And Kilgrave took that from her. He took that from her in the worst of ways. The Jessica that I knew was almost unrecognizable as Kilgrave turned her into someone that she hated. Someone who drank stores dry just to forget everything that he did to her. Even her escape was marked with tragedy as he made her a murderer, breaking his control just enough that she was able to escape. Kilgrave got careless and ended up in front of a car…

Only that wasn't the end. He was dying, true, but he was rescued by an ambulance driver, who he made give him both of his kidneys. From there, Kilgrave continued his ways but he always had an eye on the one that got away. He infiltrated Jessica's life like a parasite, watching and waiting as he continued to torment others as he bided his time…

Then Peter.

"You…" I growled as I saw Kilgrave give the command. Anger surged in my veins as I clenched my teeth.

More than twenty years had passed for Kilgrave and he was a sobbing wreck at the end of it, enduring every bit of pain and suffering that he inflicted on everyone around him. I'm not even sure he was sane. I didn't care. I couldn't care.

Because this… this couldn't happen.

Kilgrave had done more than just make Peter loyal to him. He did more than just embed an order that Peter would kill himself if Kilgrave died.

Ben and May Parker. Peter's aunt and uncle.

They were dead.

And they had died at Peter's hands.