The Manipulated Man Book Novels & Stories

“Unfortunately for you, grief makes people predictable.” “No,” I muttered immediately, breathing unevenly. “Oh yes,” Manuel whispered firmly. “Right now Julian is emotional, unstable, and desperate. Which means he’s far easier to manipulate than before.” “You better stay away from him,” I growled, struggling against the restraints now as my rage exploded. Manuel simply watched me calmly. “That protective nature of yours is exactly why this is going to work so beautifully.” I lunged forward despite the restraints, but one of the rogues immediately slammed me back down hard enough to make my vision blur again.

The man looked at me and shook his head “and an impatient wolf, what more could I have asked for?” “Who the bloody hell are you?” I asked, growling at the man, warning him of any further game. He seemed un-bothered by my behavior, if anything, he didn’t even bother looking at me as he answered my question. His eyes were fixed on Natalia who was frowning as she processed everything the man was telling her. “The Grand Element Manipulator, isn’t that who you came to see?” The man asked casually “oh, I’m sorry, I believe that I forgot the right term to your wording. I believe that you’re supposed to address me as grandfather”

I sat in the chair nearest the door because sitting nearest the door felt like the right instinct, and I waited, and the house waited around me, and nobody spoke. Then the front door opened. The man who walked in was tall, not as tall as Damien but close, with lighter colouring and a face that shared certain features with Damien's the way different editions of the same book share a cover. You could see the connection if you were looking for it. The jaw, the set of the eyes, the particular way he held himself like he had grown up being told he was important and then at some point stopped believing it. He was maybe thirty. He was wearing a jacket that had been expensive once and was not anymor

This night was getting more and more puzzling by the moment. “Why did you drug me? Who are you? Where am I? Why did you take me? Who is that crazy man?” The questions just exploded out of her mouth in rapid succession. She looked down at his strong, warm hands that were still moving up and down her stocking-covered legs. He was smiling at her. He was definitely smiling at her. The sight of his seductive smile disarmed her. Were all these people insane? What bizarre world was she in? What rabbit hole had she fallen down?

His face would darken as though she had committed some unforgivable crime. 'You’re doing it again,' he would snap. 'You’re always doing it.' Marcie would blink, confused, with a pounding heart. 'Doing what? Existing? Breathing wrong? Wanting to leave?' He twisted everything until she was the one apologizing. Until she was the one at fault. Until she was the one trembling, whispering sorry for things she hadn’t even understood. He manipulated her with terrifying ease, rewriting reality until she doubted her own memory. 'That never happened.'

He collapsed on the sand, convulsing, the stench of urine carried far on the wind. The party crowd that had gathered to watch earlier stood rigidly, not daring to breathe. They finally understood something. The man they had laughed at as a kept husband was the head of the Thornes, someone they weren't even qualified to approach! I held Luke close and spoke gently. "Luke, don't be scared. I'm here. No one will ever bully you again. I promise." Luke clung to my neck and nodded hard, letting out a small, muffled sound.

Some were bound in what might have been leather, but most were wrapped in cloth stained with strange patterns that seemed to shift when one looked away, or sealed in wax that had melted and hardened again in uneven blobs like frozen tears. “This is where we keep the things you didn’t write,” the woman said, running her fingers over a stack of books wrapped in dark green cloth. Her touch was gentle, reverent almost. “The parts of the world that grew on their own while you were gone, while you were living your life in another place and time. Your manuscript was just a seed, Miss Isadora. But seeds have a way of sending roots into soil you never knew existed.”

"Chloe is infected. So is Mrs. Carson. I don't know how many others are. We can't let them know we know, not until we figure out what we're dealing with." She stood and walked to the window, pretending to adjust the curtains. "From now on, we're allies. But remember, in front of anyone else, we act normal. If they find out, we're dead." I nodded, feeling a sliver of hope for the first time. I wasn't alone in this. But a new, terrifying thought crept in. We knew about Mrs. Carson and Chloe. But who else? A wave of despair washed over me. In this manor, anyone could be the enemy. How could we possibly figure out who was still human and who was now a puppet for those horrifying parasites?

Manuel ordered and two of the men approached me. They grabbed me forcefully pulling me up. "Be gentle" Manuel said with a smirk. "No! Leave me alone" I managed to say wiggling my arms. Manuel came close to me holding a syringe and seemed to inject me with it. I tried to kick him but the dress wouldn't let me. What did he just give me? My eyes grew weak and soon, everything was black. * *

the man said as he came close to Hayden. With a deep bow, the man extended what seemed to be a hardcover book to Hayden. Hayden reached out for it and thanked the man. Without another word, the man bowed once more and turned on his heels before walking back the way that he had came from. I cocked my head to the side in wonder at what had just happened. Did Hayden order a book to be delivered? I could tell from the image on the cover that it was a book regarding artworks. --To be continued…