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Manipulation fiction story

Updated on February 20, 2013


The Manipulator

He caught her like the sparkle on a rare gem. She didn’t search for it. Just one of those things that catches your heart and desires. Run, was her first reaction but she stayed, sharing a spot in her mind and body that wasn’t available to anyone else.

Tempered days led to the greatest relief of imagination and his invisible fingers touched her in intimate places. It was a grand exciting race to heights even she didn’t expect, but there is always something to twist and turn around something good and thrilling. Innocence was lingering above all this like a cloud that sheltered one from the scorching sun.

That cloud turned red blood in color and fire rained down upon them, and yet him being a strong man he retreated, became a closed shell like she found along the ocean’s edge. The need to share the smiles and laughter ebbed away like the ocean waves. How she hated watching the waves she once loved, blue high pitches that pulled her dreams with them, leaving just one broken shell upon the sands for her to touch and wonder why.

Her hands were twisted around her back and tied, but she had no visible bounds, and yet she was thrown into a cage. It was an invisible cage one with a greater lock than any steel could compare. She balked and rattled it many times, dissected the reasons only coming to mundane conclusions. The desire was there, but it was locked away for her not to express.

That silent manipulation finally sneaked into her room at night and stole her fantasies, and drew the pillow from her head so it would hit the sheets and awaken her startled. That safe place she would dwell at night, where fantasies held her by the waist and danced her around the room, or placed her on an empty windowsill became so quiet her silent shrieks of pain were the only sounds heard.

Oh she was a thinker, a silent one most of the time, since words enraged her keeper. Some called her beautiful, but she didn’t feel it any longer and the image in the mirror that looked back at her had deep circles under her eyes, and when she touched it with empathy it disappeared.

Silence can be a dangerous thing for one who creates sounds and music. It can be a silent prison where nothing breaks through but the darkness that chains you in the invisible prison, that silent keeper of a man’s desires. The manipulator of her mind and body became chains only she could feel. The innocence and promises of nothing maturing to harm him if she was released wasn’t believed, and for years she heard the silence of her room.

That laughter she cherished, the humor and his smile left her a prisoner of the invisible chains that kept her there, and she thought of ending it all many times, anger, sadness, could barely get her through the day. One day a key was slipped into her hand and she surrendered like the sun to the moon, and the darkness became her keeper of stars, an available essence to her music and words.

The ocean finally washed over her tanned legs, so warm, caressing her flesh and she suddenly knew it was the man of invisible chains, her manipulator, her owner, her very essence to pick up a pen and write again. The most brilliant music was released from flute and violin, and her music became famed along the ocean lands…and the manipulator of her desires and creativity watched as she ran down the white sands, tunes, notes, and words followed her like a faithful pet…one that was finally nutured and not starved and craving the emptiness, but full again…her manipulator of dreams.

You see he realized she meant no harm. He took her by the waist relishing her mind, which wouldn’t jeopardize a minute of his life, it only made his creativity flow more freely too. To this day they are found to be shapes of mist and fog along the ocean path, and the laughter as their arms entwine become the most beautiful music to the ears to any that listen.

To this day the empty ocean shells held to your ear record their music and bond for years to come.

Written and (c) B. A. Williams

Copyright/All Rights Reserved B. A. Williams


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    • B. A. Williams profile imageAUTHOR

      B. A. Williams 

      5 years ago from USA

      Thanks epi it makes me happy hearing you enjoyed it. I put up another one last night 'The Death Machine' thought you might enjoy reading it. Seems like something you might like. I admit short stories and my books is my favorite thing to write.

    • epigramman profile image


      5 years ago

      ....I am so glad you are bringing some of your short stories back into the limelight Miss B because you certainly excel in this genre.

      Once again you fired up my cinematic imagination and it takes a great writer as well to say so much in such a short context of words.

      You are a writer's writer - it's a pleasure to read the creative side of you - and it definitely has impressed the epi-man so much - thank you for letting me read this - bring some more of your short stories out if you can - and sending you good energy on a very cold day here from Colin and his pussycats at lake erie time 5:59pm

    • B. A. Williams profile imageAUTHOR

      B. A. Williams 

      6 years ago from USA

      Thanks Marlene, the mystery of sound in a shell, couldn't resist it. Again thanks for reading and commenting.

    • MarleneB profile image

      Marlene Bertrand 

      6 years ago from USA

      Oh, that was an incredible ending. I like how you tied the story to a moment in everyone's life who has ever picked up an ocean shell. Very clever! Very good. I enjoyed this a lot.

    • B. A. Williams profile imageAUTHOR

      B. A. Williams 

      6 years ago from USA

      Thanks a lot dragupine...appreciate the comment and vote up!

    • dragupine profile image


      6 years ago

      i like it! Voted up.


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