Shortz

The Manipulator

"Everything is under control. I can fix it."

"Are you sure? Cause it looks like she is dying!"

The room, a dingy basement, with pale blue walls that look like they need a fresh coat of paint to breathe life into them, surrounds the two men who have recently found themselves in a sticky situation.

A gorgeous woman, barely in her thirties, lies on a narrow bed, with rivulets of blood oozing out of the corners of her eyes.

"Just admit it. You fucked up!"

"James, calm down, and give me a few minutes, alright!" The man looking anything but calm, reassures his partner in crime.

"Then how do you explain this, Andrew?"

Andrew closes his eyes and puts his thumbs over the young woman's temples. A grey gaseous substance emits from his thumbs and seeps into the woman's temples. As the substance leaves Andrew, color drains from his face. He gasps and stumbles; his knees give way, and he collapses on the floor.

"Stop fucking with me, man." The man in black overalls, James, crouches next to his partner and tries to shake him awake.

Nothing happens.

In the meanwhile, the woman stirs on the makeshift memory manipulation table.

James knows how important it is for him to keep Andrew's existence a secret; he drags his partner into the adjacent room and leaves him there.

"Doctor James?" The woman dressed in white overalls opens her eyes and turns her head to the right; James's smiling face greets her. 

Walking closer, he helps the strawberry blond sit up. "How are you feeling, Mrs, Lawrence?"

The woman blinks; she doesn't answer. Instead, she strokes her abdomen gingerly and smiles.

Success! 

He instructs the woman to close her eyes and wipes the incriminating evidence of their failure off her face with a moist back piece of muslin. 

How long will it hold?, he wonders, scanning her brain (it's one of his abilities) and helps her off the narrow minimalist bed. "Mrs. Lawrence, it's normal to feel dizzy or nauseous for the next few hours." He informs; the woman quirks her brow.

James smiles. It's honest and open, "It's only till the memories integrate and become one with you." He lies, and the crease marring the woman's forehead smoothens out.

"Thank you, doctor." She nods and takes the offered clothes. She changes and reapplies her makeup before taking the stairs to level 1: the face of the clinic. 

James follows the woman; she has a faint smile playing on her lips as she approaches the payment desk.

'Service before payment', the plate on the desk reads. James takes a seat behind it and smiles, "Mrs. Lawrence, you are positively glowing." The man compliments, and the woman's smile widens, "Thank you, doctor."

"Please, don't. There is no greater pleasure than seeing my clients satisfied." James pauses, leaning in, he takes the woman's hand in his, "You are satisfied, aren't you, Mrs. Lawrence?"

The woman nods and takes out a checkbook from her purse.

Just a few minutes more, and we will be set for life!

As the number of zeros in front of the '1' rise, so does James's pulse.

Finally, after adding six zeros, making the amount a seven-digit number, the woman stops and signs her name.