'I was right. I was right!' The thought played over and over in the man's mind as he sat in his rich leather office chair. The dank, rotting cabin bathed in shadows in which he rested clashed sharply with his form. Dressed simply in a new black suit, his apperance very kept and tidy, a smile lined with malice inched across his weathered face. In minutes, he would have to start to hike back to his jeep if he wanted to make it to his meeting with Lionel on time. And he had to remember to change out of his hiking boots and into his new dress shoes if he didn't want his boss to throw him out, like last time. Of course, that had probably been for the news of Keith Jones, rather than the hiking boots. But for now, none of that even crossed his mind as he shut the folder in front of him with care. 'I was right.'
Glancing down at the file in front of him once more, he leaned back and closed his eyes, glowing with the knowledge that Lionel would finally be satisfied and quit hounding him to work faster. When he'd started the job, it was supposed to be routine survallence with a large payout. When he'd found out exactly what Clark could do, it had gotten intersting. But when Keith Jones had arrived in Smallville, everything from the job description to his clearance had changed. He had gotten in on the plan and handled everything personally, including drawing up a detailed history of Jones, a task much more difficult that he'd imagined it would be. 'What's so interesting about a small town guidance counciler from Metropolis?' he'd thought. But the harder he'd looked, the less he found, and the more interested he became until just last week he'd stumbled on Mr. Jones real story. And it was quite a read.
Jones was a scientist with an acute interest in pyschology. He worked privately for various employers on matters of the mind and its workings. Jobs that needed to be kept on a low-profile for security reasons, the kind a guy can get killed for talking about at a bar or bragging about to a date. Between his cutting edge mind and extremely private life of few friends and no family, Jones became the go-to guy in the business for everyone from Hong Kong to New York. Jones delved into his work and left his competators in the dust, often all but disappearing for weeks at a time when the muses smiled on him and he got an idea. Jones always came out of those weeks of solitude and had a great deal of work to show for his time. Few questioned his methods. Many questioned his sanity. And Jones lived up the controversy.
Then about a decade back everything changed. He unexpectedly quit the job he was working on, severed any ties with friends, and retreated into himself, becaming something of an urban hermit living in a high rise in West Metropolis. No one gained access to him or his apartment, and he became so suspicious of people even those who delivered the nessecities to him had to be in the elevator before he'd claim his goods.
Some had said he'd finally cracked all the way, but the man in the cabin didn't believe that was the cause for his withdraw from society. At Lionel's request, he'd uncovered evidence that Jones had been working on a private project of sorts, one closely connected with mind-control methods Jones developed himself for a company stationed in Washington D.C. It effectively shattered ones defensives to influence and subtly forced ones emotions to the surface, often causing the person to become overwhelmed, angry, even suicidal. The mind needed to be raw for the hypnosis/medication combo Jones used to work. He had made a seditive to make his client relax and would then use hypnosis to lull the person into a state where they are suspecible to the power of suggestion, and used that to control them without their knowledge. The hypnosis was stronger, no doubt, than convential methods, and was so seemless that the patient would believe any notion the therapist had put into their head was their own. It felt completely natural to anyone and could even work on those traditional hypnosis couldn't control. There were a number of several safe-guards in the programing so that the patient couldn't revert back once the treatment was complete. In theory, one could walk into a session with a therapist and walk out completely cured of what ailed them.
That was what Jones created it for at least. He had hoped to use it to help people who had suffered severe personal trama, but he was notoriously short sighted. Jones never thought more than two steps forward in his plans and hadn't realized what other uses the "therapy" could be used for until years after its development. And by that time, he ceased to care.
Jones had realized there were a several kinks in his plot that he couldn't iron out. The therapy could only be preformed on a young or adolocent mind that was still impressionable and the technique was very delicate. If another therapist took over the treatment after it had been started, the patient would reject it and become rather deranged. Likewise if the treatment wasn't completed, but none of that stopped Jones. It only fueled him. After several test groups that had gone horribly wrong, Jones had tweaked the formula and tested it again. This time, 75% of the test group had accepted the programming and been esstentially cured. Jones decided to put his program to use to help those he deemed worthy.
But Jones had gotten a little deranged himself over the years as his programming became more and more effected. Soon 99% of all patients accepted it, and Jones had put some unconventional ideas into their heads on how to cope and move on after thier repective tragedies. Many walked away with eating disorders or obessive/compulsive disorder. A few of his patients had been convinced into suicide, a few others into murder. Jones found his patients through an amoral private detective who'd do anything for a buck. All were enrolled in some form of therapy or another, and Jones would gain access by taking the place of that therapist. And through that detective, Jones had found Smallville.
It seemed to him the perfect place for his service. A town where people died of bizzare murders dating back as far as 1989 when a meteor shower had taken place. Even better, a job as school guidance councler had been opened up, giving him access to the people he believed needed him most; the students of Smallville High. So with a move to Smallville and quick switch of his name and the murder of his private detective, Jones secured his job in Smallville and was on staff for the 2003/2004 school year.
Lionel had wanted Jones researched when he realized he was not only seeing his precious Kent, but Sullvian as well. Therapists had that nasty habit of getting their patients to open up, and with the secrets between those two, Lionel couldn't afford for anyone to find out there was anything special about them. By the time the man had gathered all the facts for Lionel, Jones had already started the proceedure on the two. The man's pleas for Lionel to spare Sullivans life until he'd received all his intell on Jones had been a wise one that had saved the project. Sullivan was instumental in Jones' plan for Kent, and if she'd been killed as Lionel had planned after their last meeting at the Torch a month and a half ago, Kent would have cracked up and the whole project shot to hell. All Lionel could do now was have the man break into Jones' computer and tweak the plans for Kent and Sullivan to his liking. Jones hadn't even noticed the changes. Well, tweaking plans and speeding up the process. He had to make Kent and Sullivan a bit more vulnerable and a lot more tormented to peak Jones' interest. But since Lionel and the man had started stirring the pot a little, the therapy was working out beautifully and Jones was doing everything according to plan.
The smile widened on his twisted face as the man picked himself up off the chair and gathered up the papers before him. Lionel would be pleased with his work. Sullivan and Kent would soon give in to the sessions with Jones. Phase one was almost complete.
Thoughts? Feelings? Rant on.
Glancing down at the file in front of him once more, he leaned back and closed his eyes, glowing with the knowledge that Lionel would finally be satisfied and quit hounding him to work faster. When he'd started the job, it was supposed to be routine survallence with a large payout. When he'd found out exactly what Clark could do, it had gotten intersting. But when Keith Jones had arrived in Smallville, everything from the job description to his clearance had changed. He had gotten in on the plan and handled everything personally, including drawing up a detailed history of Jones, a task much more difficult that he'd imagined it would be. 'What's so interesting about a small town guidance counciler from Metropolis?' he'd thought. But the harder he'd looked, the less he found, and the more interested he became until just last week he'd stumbled on Mr. Jones real story. And it was quite a read.
Jones was a scientist with an acute interest in pyschology. He worked privately for various employers on matters of the mind and its workings. Jobs that needed to be kept on a low-profile for security reasons, the kind a guy can get killed for talking about at a bar or bragging about to a date. Between his cutting edge mind and extremely private life of few friends and no family, Jones became the go-to guy in the business for everyone from Hong Kong to New York. Jones delved into his work and left his competators in the dust, often all but disappearing for weeks at a time when the muses smiled on him and he got an idea. Jones always came out of those weeks of solitude and had a great deal of work to show for his time. Few questioned his methods. Many questioned his sanity. And Jones lived up the controversy.
Then about a decade back everything changed. He unexpectedly quit the job he was working on, severed any ties with friends, and retreated into himself, becaming something of an urban hermit living in a high rise in West Metropolis. No one gained access to him or his apartment, and he became so suspicious of people even those who delivered the nessecities to him had to be in the elevator before he'd claim his goods.
Some had said he'd finally cracked all the way, but the man in the cabin didn't believe that was the cause for his withdraw from society. At Lionel's request, he'd uncovered evidence that Jones had been working on a private project of sorts, one closely connected with mind-control methods Jones developed himself for a company stationed in Washington D.C. It effectively shattered ones defensives to influence and subtly forced ones emotions to the surface, often causing the person to become overwhelmed, angry, even suicidal. The mind needed to be raw for the hypnosis/medication combo Jones used to work. He had made a seditive to make his client relax and would then use hypnosis to lull the person into a state where they are suspecible to the power of suggestion, and used that to control them without their knowledge. The hypnosis was stronger, no doubt, than convential methods, and was so seemless that the patient would believe any notion the therapist had put into their head was their own. It felt completely natural to anyone and could even work on those traditional hypnosis couldn't control. There were a number of several safe-guards in the programing so that the patient couldn't revert back once the treatment was complete. In theory, one could walk into a session with a therapist and walk out completely cured of what ailed them.
That was what Jones created it for at least. He had hoped to use it to help people who had suffered severe personal trama, but he was notoriously short sighted. Jones never thought more than two steps forward in his plans and hadn't realized what other uses the "therapy" could be used for until years after its development. And by that time, he ceased to care.
Jones had realized there were a several kinks in his plot that he couldn't iron out. The therapy could only be preformed on a young or adolocent mind that was still impressionable and the technique was very delicate. If another therapist took over the treatment after it had been started, the patient would reject it and become rather deranged. Likewise if the treatment wasn't completed, but none of that stopped Jones. It only fueled him. After several test groups that had gone horribly wrong, Jones had tweaked the formula and tested it again. This time, 75% of the test group had accepted the programming and been esstentially cured. Jones decided to put his program to use to help those he deemed worthy.
But Jones had gotten a little deranged himself over the years as his programming became more and more effected. Soon 99% of all patients accepted it, and Jones had put some unconventional ideas into their heads on how to cope and move on after thier repective tragedies. Many walked away with eating disorders or obessive/compulsive disorder. A few of his patients had been convinced into suicide, a few others into murder. Jones found his patients through an amoral private detective who'd do anything for a buck. All were enrolled in some form of therapy or another, and Jones would gain access by taking the place of that therapist. And through that detective, Jones had found Smallville.
It seemed to him the perfect place for his service. A town where people died of bizzare murders dating back as far as 1989 when a meteor shower had taken place. Even better, a job as school guidance councler had been opened up, giving him access to the people he believed needed him most; the students of Smallville High. So with a move to Smallville and quick switch of his name and the murder of his private detective, Jones secured his job in Smallville and was on staff for the 2003/2004 school year.
Lionel had wanted Jones researched when he realized he was not only seeing his precious Kent, but Sullvian as well. Therapists had that nasty habit of getting their patients to open up, and with the secrets between those two, Lionel couldn't afford for anyone to find out there was anything special about them. By the time the man had gathered all the facts for Lionel, Jones had already started the proceedure on the two. The man's pleas for Lionel to spare Sullivans life until he'd received all his intell on Jones had been a wise one that had saved the project. Sullivan was instumental in Jones' plan for Kent, and if she'd been killed as Lionel had planned after their last meeting at the Torch a month and a half ago, Kent would have cracked up and the whole project shot to hell. All Lionel could do now was have the man break into Jones' computer and tweak the plans for Kent and Sullivan to his liking. Jones hadn't even noticed the changes. Well, tweaking plans and speeding up the process. He had to make Kent and Sullivan a bit more vulnerable and a lot more tormented to peak Jones' interest. But since Lionel and the man had started stirring the pot a little, the therapy was working out beautifully and Jones was doing everything according to plan.
The smile widened on his twisted face as the man picked himself up off the chair and gathered up the papers before him. Lionel would be pleased with his work. Sullivan and Kent would soon give in to the sessions with Jones. Phase one was almost complete.
Thoughts? Feelings? Rant on.