Consensus, Day 2-4: Security

“Fuck! I thought Carrie’d be the easiest one to defeat, but she’s out here controlling her sister like a fucking video game character,” Christina seethed with anger, banging her fist against the metal desk of the office’s surveillance room. A distinctive fist imprint was left next to the other two fist imprints, one reserved for Mabel and another a result of the very brief scuffle she had with the security guard that once occupied this room.

Christina pinched the bridge of her nose with her two fingers as a sigh crossed her lips. Her ability to be “smarter” seemed somewhat pathetic compared to the feats she was observing from similarly-affected women, discounting her own PSI capabilities.

She couldn’t just kidnap Howard, as that would either kill him in the crossfire or worse—he’d find out about his relationship to empowering people and shut his yap for good. She needed more from him and she needed to do it in such a way to not disrupt the natural order, even if that came at the cost of her opponents also becoming more powerful as a result.

Just three exposures was simply not enough to compete in this market, that was for sure.

She effortlessly hacked into the security display merely so that her phone screen could be viewed at a larger resolution. A detailed spreadsheet of all of Christine’s findings encompassed the fifteen-monitor setup, a surprisingly-organized web of notes and photos stretching into the thousands. While all the other girls were wasting their gifts on meaningless drivel and personal growth, Christine was preparing.

“Alright, let’s run through the data one more ti-“

She paused, her attention suddenly shifting to the door like a startled deer. There didn’t seem to be anyone there, but she simply knew there would be.

She pressed her firm back against the wall adjacent to the door, waiting silently like the apex predator she knew she deserved to embrace. Her breathing was nonexistent, neither was her heartbeat. Her face was as expressionless as a machine’s, though her value of human life was already comparable to her mechanized counterparts even before being enhanced.

A security guard entered the room. Not even on a suspicious whim, merely to chat.

“Dude, Jim, you’re not gonna believe it, there’s this crazy hot chick out there that’s totally-”

The security officer’s throat was not merely blocked by a sudden bout of beyond-human reflexes, but by a calculated strike at the most vulnerable part of his body. Christina effortlessly hoisted her victim in the air, a combination of her longer, firmer legs and unrelenting body keeping his kicking and squirming feet far from the floor.

“I’m afraid Jim will not be responding to you this hour. Or ever, for that matter,” Christina spoke to the guard with a sinister monotone. “Now, here is what will happen. I’m going to let you go, and if you holler or scream, that will be the last sound that ever exits your mouth. Understand?”

He nodded frantically with as much movement as his strained neck would allow. Her steely green eyes attempted to gauge the truthfulness of his limited response, caring more about reading his body language than the amount of life still left within it. Appearing somewhat convinced, she dropped him to the floor where he collapsed, half-dead.

His breathing was ragged, only further exacerbated by Christina dropping her entire body weight atop his prone chest. Despite how hard she was making it to do so, he kept as quiet as he possibly could, merely allowing a restrained wheeze to escape his mouth as all the air in his body was forcefully propelled out of him.

“Listen well, inferior specimen,” she spoke with a breathy voice, inching her face closer and closer to his until the carnal heat of her breath threatened to burn his skin. “The only reason you are still alive is because the closet of this location can only fit three bodies maximum and is currently at full capacity.”

The shivering guard was almost incapable of comprehending her voice. It was all too much for him. Looking around the room in frantic confusion just to make some sense of it only served to make his growing anxiety worse—a stain of blood etched into the ceiling above him, Jim’s still-hot mug of coffee perspiring on the table nearby, a stash of guns bent and contorted into unusability in the far corner. There was a story he had missed in this room, and he was but another faceless guard that would be disposed of like the rest of them.

Using pieces of bloodied cloth, Christina tied the whimpering man up in the room’s sole office chair. She returned to her work, but found herself growing tired of his pained groans, even after he had been gagged by the mouth. Her supersonic senses struggled to focus with his constant muffled pain, as little did she know or care, she had shattered his ribs upon landing atop them.

“Ugh, you and your constant whining! This is why I’m not a people person! All they do is complain and complain and talk about shit that doesn’t matter like how nice their day was or other menial shit like that!” She continued on her long-winded rant, throwing more blame at random frustrations his way.

Temporarily mitigating the problem, she kicked the back of his wheely chair with a long leg, sending him spinning out of control and crashing into the nearest wall.

With all of her rivals proving to grow new and exciting abilities every day, Christina needed a new approach. With the wealth of security footage at her disposal, she wound the tapes back to the day before she could recall any changes occurring—two whole days ago. At first, it seemed as boring of a day as ever. Howard Grove arrived at work, berated several of his coworkers, did whatever actual work he did behind his cubicle, took a 15 minute break, ran the motions again for the rest of his nine-to-five shift, then packed up and left. Only within the last possible moments of his day did Christina notice anything out of the ordinary, and she almost missed it on the initial scrub-through.

Wait, just who exactly was that woman in the parking lot? She didn’t look like anyone from the office, and cross-referencing her with every employee on file generated no matches. Christina’s hands moved as fast as the keyboard would let them as she found as much about this mystery woman as she could. She only seemed to appear in two cameras in the parking lot, limited to her interaction with Howard.

Christina ran through the sped-up footage hundreds of times, her hyper-attentive eyes scrubbing and cataloging every frame for any sign of this ethereal woman, only to come up short. It was as if this gorgeous specimen of femininity poofed into existence solely to run into Howard Grove.

Even creating an intricate mental map and using advanced trigonometry and human psychology to suss out every single possible route this beaut could have taken proved fruitless. Even at an ascended level of scientific knowledge, this woman was an anomaly to Christina. While the security systems of this location may have been lackadaisical in its enforcement—though Christina’s opinion of it was slightly biased by the fact that her fingernails could tear through flak jacket and human flesh with equal ease—this office building was no slouch when it came to security cameras. There were very few spots left blind to the cameras, none of which could be abused for a sneaky undetected exit.

Which brought Christina back to the inherent catch-22 of dealing with Howard Grove. If she wanted to get more information about this mystery woman who was more than likely connected to the burgeoning powers developing within her, she’d risk blowing her cover. She’d need more company info if she was going to find out who this strange woman was. It was time for a plan B of sorts.

Speaking of Howard Grove…

Looking over at another monitor, one which displayed the current day’s events as they were unfolding in real time, Christina noticed an interesting sight in development. Howard was approaching Mr. Carob’s office for his evaluation, of which the scientific former janitor knew the outcome of with 99.99% certainty.

“Time to strip from my status as a mere passive observer and change the branches of fate, as it were,” Christina monologued aloud, her endless legs as graceful as a ballerina’s as she made her way to the nearest air vent.

If Christina’s calculations were correct—and they were—Howard was going to be fired at that very meeting.

~

“Sit down, Mr. Grove.”

Howard reluctantly did as he was told, softly verbalizing a low grumble as he took a seat within the only empty seat in the room. On the other side of the imposing table before him sat his two superiors, Carob and Manix. The dissatisfied looks on their faces was not lost on him.

“Go ahead, lay it on me,” Howard spoke first, not an ounce of concern in his voice. During his thirty year tenure at this company, every yearly performance review was exactly the same. They’d tell him how he was one of the finest workers on the force, how he was diligent and possessed perfect attendance. They’d throw in some hogwash about how his attitude needed an adjustment, just an improvement for the bureaucratic sake of improving. Ultimately, he’d remain in the workforce until the retirement of his choice, then he’d—

“Howard, you’re fired.”

The older man suddenly jumped in his seat as if awoken from a dream at the sound of those three words.

“F-fired!?” He sputtered in disbelief, head cocking back and forth between the two men in rapid succession. “What the hell made you two come to that conclusion?”

“Well, Howard, just in this past month alone you’ve had 125 complaints filed against you by various women of this workforce.” Mr. Manix stated very matter-of-factly. “Ten or so I could excuse, but that’s just frankly ridiculous.”

“Ugh, that’s what that accursed social media is making all those women believe!” Howard shot back, looking to blame everything but himself. “A man works perfectly fine at a company for most of his life and all of the sudden these women conspire against him! This is all complete malarkey!”

“Well, I did a little digging because I was curious myself about how complaints went from zero to one hundred, so to speak…” Manix replied, briefly removing his half-moon spectacles to cleanse them, as if preparing to nonchalantly drop a bombshell. “Turns out, there’s been an impressively high amount of complaints filed against you every review period since you started working here, only someone forgot to actually inform upper management about them until just recently.”

Manix shot daggers at Carob, who guiltily smiled and nervously shrugged.

“So, Mr. Grove, what do you have to say for yourself?”

All attention was back on Howard. He was given a chance to tell his side of the story, to attempt to win over the sympathy of his bosses. Too bad he didn’t have a compassionate bone in his body.

“I say what I’ve always said! Women are women! They’ve been whores since the dawn of humans and they’ve only gotten worse! They’ve been conspiring against me ever since I was a young man! My first job, I was let go because of some bimbo secretary’s error! My second, because a horrid woman led me astray with sexual feelings! That janitor! She’s behind everything! She made me slip, then used her cutesy hypnotism powers on Mr. Carob so that he’d let her off with just a warning. Once he left, she looked me in the eyes with maliciousness! The janitor! Are hierarchies no longer respected these days? Back in my day, when a janitor orchestrated something even half as malicious they were hung from the gallows by their own mop bristles! That one blonde coworker! She must have short term memory loss because I feel like I’m talking to two different people half the time! Then, she puts hairs in my coffee! The toll booth woman! She must’ve hotwired my car to malfunction at the gate yesterday! The mailwoman! First, she drops a package on my foot and next thing I know she’s crashing her car into mine, only to lift it up with her freakish strength and chuck it into the forest! My own car! The neighbor! She’s an uncaring, jaded little—”

The two men across the table exchanged nervous glances with one another as Howard continued to rant and rave with no end in sight. They assumed he would eventually run out of women to complain about, but he never quite seemed to simmer out. After three attempts to regain his attention, he finally appeared to focus up.

“Mr. Grove, please.” Carob ventured one last time to reign in Howard. “I believe you’ve said enough. Pack your things up at your desk. We’ll have an assistant come by to help if need be.”

Howard didn’t leave without a commotion, but he eventually did leave. Christina slipped out of her vent hiding spot with perfect timing, allowing herself to drink up plenty of Howard’s frustrations directed towards her as she strutted confidently towards the room he had just left. She could feel waves of improvement with every step, the gap between each footfall increasing as each leg added inch upon pulchritudinous inch to her endless stride. She stifled a moan, not wanting to diminish the entrance she planned to make.

Sure, beauty was a mere societal creation. She saw through it like all aspects of the world around her. Everything was mere science, and yet she could not help but be enamored by how beautiful she was. She wasn’t even applying graceful movements for the entertainment of others, just for herself. It might have been a game she found repulsive, but now she was winning in it.

“Um, I’m sorry, I don’t believe we scheduled for a cleaning this hour.” Mr. Manix spoke, confused as to why Christina walked into the room and locked the door behind her. Carob said nothing, he was simply too entranced by her ever-perfecting beauty to speak.

“Oh don’t worry, I’m not here to clean,” Christina replied, her sultry voice dropping an octave. “Just here to course correct some unfortunate changes to the status quo.”

“If you have a complaint with how we run this company, there’s a ‘Kaizen’ box in the—“

“Oh, no, I think I’ll ask directly, if that’s fine with you. It’s rather pressing.”

Manix was intimidated, but he didn’t back down.

“You are out of line, janitor.” Manix spoke with malice, as if reminding Christina of her former job constituted as a new slur. “This is employee review day. We still have several promotions and hires to get through and it’s a very tight schedule that leaves no room for distractions.”

“Well, isn’t that convenient?” She replied to Mr. Manix, all while keeping her gaze firmly centered on Carob.“I’m here to give a promotion of my own, one to Mr. Carob for being just the bestest boss in the whole world.”

Carob’s eyes lit up at the sound of that, his breath caught within his throat.

“Alright, I’ve spent enough time entertaining this chicanery,” Manix spoke definitively, pressing a silent emergency button underneath his side of the desk. At least, it was silent to everyone except for Christina.

“Sorry, but I think security is a little preoccupied at the moment. Y’know, with being dead and all,” Christina replied as if it were but a minor problem for Manix to deal with.

At that moment, the only thing the former janitor regretted was not being able to see the horrified look on Manix’s face. After all, she was busy continuing the perpetual staring contest with Carob. To say he was transfixed by her would be the understatement of the century.

Manix was left confused and frozen in terror as Christina sultrily waltzed onto the shared interviewer desk, approaching closer and closer to Carob on hands and knees like an apex lioness securing her kill. She reached a lithe hand out to caress his cheek, taking note of the developing stain in his pants.

“Carob, you horny bastard!” Mr. Manix spoke in desperation, fear dripping in his voice as the security line continued to return static. “Focus up! You’re letting this manipulative woman walk all o—”

With a single punch, Christina caved Manix’s skull in, neither her nor Carob taking their eyes off of one another even as speckles of his blood coated the sides of their faces. The—now former—lead manager’s lifeless body slumped over in its chair, the bubbling lurches of air escaping what remained of his throat drowned out by Christina’s sensual contralto.

“Congratulations on your new promotion, Mr. Carob,” Christina spoke like a doe-eyed secretary, playfully squeezing his cheek. “I think you’ll be just what this company needs to grow into something great.”

“I agree,” came Carob, the knowledge of Manix’s death never once crossing his mind.

“As your first order of business, you’ll be rehiring Howard Grove, right? After all, he’s a hard worker and great for our bottom line.”

“O-of course,” Carob replied in a dream-like state, hypnotized by her mere words.

“I’ll be filling in as a secretary for you in Mr. Manix’s absence, so you won’t have to worry your poor, overworked little mind on the little details, okay?”

“Y-y-yes! That’s okay!” Carob sputtered as if the words physically pained him to say. Anything that wasn’t him spasming in pleasure seemed to cause him discomfort, leaving him entirely at Christina’s whims.

“Goooood… now, you look tired. Why don’t you take a quick power nap and I’ll handle everything from here, okay? It’s the least I could do for such a well-respected and sexy boss.” To finish him off, the hand that had most recently cleaved Manix’s mind found a new head to latch onto, lurching forward to grab hold of Carob’s desperate erection.

The new lead manager gasped for air like a beached fish, one eye twitching from the sheer overwhelming force of Christina’s everything.

Carob passed out on the spot upon achieving release, allowing Christina to fully bask in her new rise through the corporate totem pole. With a dismissive shove, she removed what remained of Mr. Manix off of her new office chair. She popped off her shoes, rather unprofessionally kicking her dainty feet up atop the table. She showed little regard for the tidiness of the desk, her endless legs scrunching up several papers as she enjoyed a well-deserved relaxation. This new chair wasn’t meant to lean back, evident by the wood creaking and moaning, but Christina didn’t care. If it broke, she simply had more company funds at her disposal for a new one.

As a line of confused employees built up around the door, all eagerly awaiting their bi-annual reviews, Christina got “situated” in her brand new office. Without moving from her comfy spot, she used her newfound telekinesis to set up the nearest cork board as a makeshift hit list of sorts, pinning four photos of her fellow supergirls to the wall: A photo of Mae, a photo of Carrie, a photo of Mabel and a photo with a big question mark—there was simply no doubt in Christina’s mind that there was a fourth benefactor of Howard's unintended gifts at this point, one who would be effortlessly found should she put the work into it.

With her canines, she whittled a Mr. Manix-branded pencil down to a painfully sharp point. Playing up the situation, she goofily closed one eye and stuck out her tongue, making a hand motion as if she were aiming the pencil at a dart board of sorts.

“Now let’s see… With the ensuing boost I’ll surely get after telling Grove he’s unfired, any one of you will be easy pickings for me. The question is… which one of you do I go after first?”