“It really was just so tragic, you know? I mean, I knew he was depressed, but still, finding him here, dead was still a shock. I feel bad, just dumping him there in the desert, but how could I miss an opportunity like that? Let’s see here, just a few last little touches here and there…” Rudy dabbed his brush in a few places on Chase’s face, lifting his limp head up with a gloved hand to catch the light. Chase, for his part, was trying to move his body, but everything was numb. He could barely blink as Rudy had applied the makeup this whole time, telling his ex-boyfriend about his recently deceased uncle. He was beyond terrified–the last thing he could remember was having that meeting with his agent and heading to his car in the parking garage, and then he was here, in some grungy looking apartment bathroom, strapped to a chair, Rudy applying some strange, make up to him, but because he was facing away from the mirror, he had no idea what he was doing to him.
Chase Redman was an up-and-coming B-movie actor, hoping to make it to the big time. Unfortunately, he also happened to be gay, and he knew the world still wasn’t ready for a faggot action hero. He’d dated Rudy, his make up artist on the set of “Terror World V,” but when Rudy had started asking him to go public with their relationship, he’d broken it off. He hadn’t seen him in months, and now suddenly here he was, kidnapping him? What the hell was this about?
Rudy took a step back, inspecting his work, smiled, and walked around behind Chase. “Looks good to me–how about we both take a look?” With effort, he managed to spin around the chair Chase was strapped to, so he could face the mirror in the bathroom, and Chase could finally see what Rudy had been up to. He looked older–much older, with a bald cap and a fringe of hair added on top, running down to two bushy sideburns on each side of his face. His skin looked aged as well, with rather deep wrinkles–he could see something else as well–he must have on some kind of body suit, because his muscular physique looked to be buried under a paunchy gut. He was wearing a pair of boxers and an undershirt which wasn’t his. He managed to glance to the side at Rudy, but he couldn’t get his mouth to speak.
“What do you think? I got the resemblance pretty good, right Uncle Ned?” Rudy held up a driver’s license so Chase could see the picture, and sure enough, like all of Rudy’s work, it was a superb likeness. But what in the hell was he thinking? Why make him look like his dead uncle? “You see, Chase–I’ve had some time to think since you dumped me, and I decided that I think someone needs to put you in your proper place, and I know just happen to know a little tiny secret of yours that you’ve done a very good job hiding from almost everyone…”
Chase’s breath caught in his throat. How could he know?
“I happened to see you and Phillip in your dressing room one day. I wondered what you two were doing in there, but it really does explain how you’re so good at getting into character. Phillip even told me he’d make you fuck him as your characters on occasion too–do you remember that? He says you never really remember what happens while you’re under, but did you know that your agent has been banging me for months? That when I promised him that he could keep all the royalties from your films after your ‘early retirement’, that greedy little pig jumped at the chance? So you’re mine, Chase…or should I say Uncle Ned? That’s you you’re going to be playing, after all, once we get you into character.”
Chase was struggling harder now–he could feel whatever drug keeping him paralyzed beginning to wear off. If he could just cover his ears, if he could just–
“Sleep tight.”
Chase tried to fight it, but the reflex to relax was too strong, and he felt his head start fogging over. Hypnosis–it was his secret. Phillip, his agent, had conditioned him, told him he’d be the best actor in a generation if he just trusted him. It had worked–he’d been able to not just act like, but become the characters in his movies. But that wasn’t important now–relaxing was important. Relaxing, and listening to what Rudy was saying, focusing and relaxing, focusing and relaxing, deeper and deeper, deeper and deeper…
“That’s good Chase, very good, just relax. Focus on my voice, and my voice alone. My voice is truth, the only truth. Now, we’re going to put Chase away for a while, alright?”
“Alllright…” Chase slurred.
“I’m going to count backwards from ten, and as I count down, just like you’ve done before, you’re going to feel less and less like Chase each time, like color bleaching out of a cloth. When I reach one, you’re going to be no one, alright? No one at all, and Chase will be stored away deep in your mind, until later.”
“Yeeesss…”
“Alright. Ten……..Nine………Eight…….”
Chase felt himself start fading away. He was trying to fight for some reason, but it was difficult to remember why he was fighting at all.
“Seven……..Six………..Five……..”
Chase was getting dimmer now, curling up in on himself. He could sense him still fighting, but it was quiet now, so quiet, and he started pushing him deeper and deeper towards the back of his mind.
“Four……..Three……..Two…….”
Just a whisper now. He didn’t know who he was, but he wasn’t Chase. Chase was down there, down deep. Safe, of course, always safe. He’d come back sometime, and then maybe he’d worry about what Chase was screaming about, but right now he wasn’t Chase.
“One.”
He was nobody. No one at all.
“Alright, ready to get into character?”
Chase’s head nodded slowly, and Rudy smiled wide.
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