Of Like Minds

When people thought of Japan, they often thought of Tokyo, and when they thought of Tokyo, their minds brought pictures of towering skyscrapers, bustling streets, and sidewalks filled with so many people that it was difficult to see the street beneath them. That wasn’t an inaccurate way to picture the city - it was the image most often projected to the world at large. But it wasn’t wholly true, either, because there was still much of Tokyo that hadn’t been claimed by concrete and mortar.

Sprawling countryside. Winding roads that took you through forests of staggering beauty and grace. Towering, majestic mountains that had stood watch for centuries as the culture beneath them flourished.

A vast, shimmering landscape, worthy of poems and paintings, with few dots of civilization to break the scene. One of those dots just so happened to be a small medical clinic, located off a detour down one of the roads. A path that one would never think to take unless they had good call for it. The clinic was a humble building, no more than two stories tall, with only a few cars parked around its entrance. Shaded windows, surrounded by trees that seemed to keep the area in a perpetual evening, no matter how high the sun rose and shined.

It was an innocent location, nestled in the quiet of the forest, but there was a serene menace to it. Why were the walls so thick, more like those of a jail than a clinic? Why was the front entrance always locked, and why could you only get in by pressing the call button next to the door and being allowed inside? Why did people come inside, only to leave days later, if at all?

Interesting questions. Questions that would stay that way if Anesthesia had her way. This was her home, her private workshop, and she didn’t like prying eyes and visitors. For her work, she needed privacy, and this place suited her needs to the letter.

But today wasn’t like most days. Today, she was expecting company…

For Nadya Zolnerowich, at least over the last four years, her only view of the city of Tokyo had been the inside of a jail cell. Well, that was what one got for attempted sexual assault. She had known full well what she had been doing, even if some people seemed to be of the opinion that she was a little messed up in her head, and she had known that someday there would have to be a reckoning. The law of averages commanded it. She hadn't expected to be caught in the act, of course...but ultimately, all things considered, the sentencing had been rather lenient. And it wasn't as if she had anything better going on on the outside.

Life behind bars had been clean and safe, if strict. Actually, Nadya kind of enjoyed it. She might not have been able to step out of line without being punished, but this was a low-security woman's prison, and she had still had time for a few extracurriculars. She had even made a new friend or two. In the end, she was almost sorry to leave that place, and so abruptly, too, with her parole coming to fruition within days of her first hearing that there was a chance of being let loose back into the real world.

So now she was out. She didn't have a job, but she did have a place to stay, albeit not a very nice one. But then, when had she ever had a truly nice place to stay? She spent a day or two sitting there, mostly in darkness, thinking through her options. She probably couldn't get away with her old schtick again. And then, she didn't know if she would want to. Thinking about it over the last four years, she realized that she could have gotten better results just by joining AFW and fucking women in the ring. Sure, they might put up a bit of a fight, but she would still get off on that.

It wouldn't have been the same, and the sluts had all both deserved and enjoyed what she did to them in the hospital—every one of them—but it would have paid her a better salary and maybe she would have even been able to convince herself she was well-adjusted.

All this swirled around her mind, over and over again, during a twenty-four hour period after her release. She didn't eat, she slept in little periods of only an hour or two at a time. She wasn't depressed, just...thoughtful.

And then, she got a message.

And now, for some reason, here she was, standing in front of a dingy little clinic out in the middle of nowhere, watching the taxi which had brought her here fading off into the distance down that curvy little country road. She turned her head back to that door, and she pressed the call button that was embedded in the wall to its left. She had no idea what she was doing. But, then, what did it matter what happened to her right now?

After the call button was pressed there was a slight pause where nothing at all happened. The forest surrounding the clinic was quiet - too quiet, in fact. There should have been birds chirping, wind rustling, woodland animals rustling about in the brush. Instead, there was nothing but a queer, haunting silence, as if every living thing in the area with two feet knew better than to linger here.

That silence was broken by a mechanical whirring noise, as a camera above Nadya’s head swiveled about to look down on her. In zoomed in on her, stared a moment, and then intercom came to life.

”Ms. Zolnerowich?” The voice that came through was female, young and pleasant, with soothing tone. The name was pronounced properly, as if the speaker had said it a few times before, enough to know the right way. ”Thank you for coming. Please,” The door clicked. ”Step inside.”

Once Nadya made her way inside, she would find the interior was markedly more modern the outside. It looked like she had stepped into the interior of hospital not unlike her own. Pristine floor, white walls, two paths that led down separate corridors with numerous doors. There was even a nurse waiting for her - a nurse of sorts, at least.

This woman was over her height and build, dress in a white nurse’s outfit. Albeit one with a shorter skirt than any reputable hospital would’ve allowed, showing off a generous amount of her legs, all the way to the edge of her thighs. Her breasts were on similar display, and her short, black, trimmed hair did nothing to mar the view.

She spoke with a smile, the same false, fleeting one that Nadya had doubtless seen many of her coworkers wear, and perhaps put on herself. [b]”Hi, there.”[/color] She threw Nadya a short wave. [b]”I’m Helen. Please, come with me, the doctor’s eager to meet you. I’m sure you have a few question, and I can answer some along the way.”[/color]

A nod, a wink, and Helen started to walk down the hall, slow enough for Nadya to keep up with ease.

Nadya didn't like this. It was stupid, truly stupid, to walk into a situation like this one, putting oneself in the hands of a totally unknown entity far away from any potential source of help. As a former predator herself, she had relied on exactly these kinds of circumstances to prey upon those AFW sluts who came through her ward. If she came out of this situation alive, she should probably consider herself lucky.

But, then, what did she have to lose? No family, no friends, no life to speak of outside of the prison she had spent the last four years inside. And nothing which had happened on the inside really mattered now that she was on the outside, did it?

A voice replied to her arrival, and the door unlocked. Nadya waited a second, then thrust out a hand and opened the door, stepping inside and letting it shut behind her. She moved almost on autopilot, as the "nurse" met her near the entrance. Clearly, the woman didn't have a single minute of legitimate nursing experience in her life, if she dressed like that and worked in a place like this. The interior did look like a real hospital, true.That didn't mean it was one. Nadya would listen to what the "nurse" had to say, nodding blandly before following along with the woman down the corridor, feeling a little restrained by the slow walking pace. She generally preferred walking faster. But then, why did it matter? Who cared?

This "nurse" wanted to answer her questions, so Nadya figured she would indulge her with just one. "Vhy am I here?" she asked with a flat tone, directing the question toward the empty corridor in front of them.

As the pair made their way through the halls, Nadya could see more and more of the hospital’s decor, lining the walls. Where most hospitals had peaceful, serene landscapes or slightly tacky displays of modern art, these walls were adorned with more refined works. Definite periods, different times, different styles. It was almost like a museum, only instead of having a wide range of subjects, these paintings all shared a single theme.

Women.

Nude women, dressed women, women in pose, women laying about, some tasteful, some grotesque, but all in full, shameless view. It was as if the decorator wanted to capture a picture for every angle of the female form, in every color, in every pose.

Helen led her through the halls with a light smile and a swish of her hips, perhaps more swing into her body than was absolutely necessary. When Nadya spoke, she lit up and looked over her shoulder, continuing on as she talked.

”Oh, you do talk?” She had a quick giggle. ”I’m not at liberty to discuss too much with you - my employer wants to explain the bulk of things in person. But I can say that she’s been watching you for some time, and she’s rather…”[/color] She tapped her chin for a moment, as if considering the right words to use. [b]”...intimately familiar with your unique work history and background.”

As Helen led on, a faint scream could be heard coming down one of the corridors off to the side. While its source was far away, the echo carried all the way to them. It was the raucous, hoarse shriek of a woman, either in agony or ecstasy.

”Let’s see.” Helen didn’t seem to pay it any mind at all. ”I can say she’s sort of an admirer of yours, impressed by what she’s heard. She’s not the only one, either.” She threw Nadya a quick wink as the screams faded back out.

This obviously was going to be some sort of bizarre sexual encounter. Part of her, some childish, foolish part of her, had thought that maybe this was just the manner in which some woman with a crippling social disorder would offer her an actual job. But no reputable clinic—no institute for sports medicine nor cosmetic surgery center—would adorn their walls with artwork like this, even if some of it was perfectly enticing in its own context. Nadya's lip curled as she imagined what sort of person—and it was clearly the doing of a single individual, presumably this "nurse's" boss, rather than some corporate entity—would actually be so brazen as to proudly display her porn collection in public.

Was she the kind of person to admit its pornographic nature freely, or was she the kind of person to hide behind some flimsy excuse of artistic integrity? That was the only question which came to mind right now which she would have really cared to ask this "nurse," but she knew she wouldn't get a straight answer, and she didn't bother. She would just listen to the woman drone on, taking quite a few words to say absolutely nothing at all.

Nadya wasn't really impressed with any of this. The art? She had seen more, and better, online, and on actual, living, breathing bodies. The "nurse?" Clearly an airhead, someone who had no idea what she was doing and was only kept around, presumably, for her loyalty.

And the screaming...well, if she was going to die today, Nadya wasn't going to go alone. She looked around, thinking about how she would go about wrenching a painting off the wall and smashing it corner-first into Helen's throat if there was even the slightest hint that something was about to happen. Even if her own life was safe, if this was some sort of operation that was dabbling in human trafficking or organ harvesting, well...

...well, wouldn't a dumb bitch like Helen be surprised when the big, bad, evil Russian rapist-convict turned informant for the Japanese authorities? Nadya was willing to bet neither this "nurse" nor her boss knew Nadya as well as they thought they did.

"Cute," Nadya would grunt, as they kept walking. She moved essentially on autopilot. "So vhat is it about me you think she likes? Specifically."

If Helen was bothered by Nadya’s tone, it didn’t show on her features. There was a blissfully unaware quality to her, as if this whole situation was the most natural thing, as if she and this woman she’d only just met were really the longest, closest friends.

She led Nadya around a corner, just as three other women were coming their way. The first two were ‘nurses’ like her, dressed in similar garb with similar smiles and similar waves for Nadya as they passed.

The third woman, however, was nothing of the kind. She was a tall woman, black skin, with light, dusty hair that went past her shoulders. She wore tight, hip-hugging jeans that showed off her generous curves, and a black shirt that did the same favors for her breasts. Muscular, with a proud stride.

She gave them both a brief glance, but paid Nadya a longer one, showing a fleck of curiosity before she moved on down the hallway. Not sparing the two of them another look.

”If I had to guess?” Helen spoke up, giving the passerby the same notice she gave everything else. “I’d say she shares similar interests in late night activities. But I’m sure she’ll tell you yourself.” The long walked finally came to their destination - a large, mahogany door, with a keypad at the side. Helen took a moment to enter a code, dialing it in quick, and the door popped open without any fuss. ”Here we are.”

She opened the door, and Nadya found herself standing in what appeared to be someone’s apartment, built right into this humble hospital. A spacious, expensive one, too, and well-decorated. Bookshelves, stacked full from end to end. A leather couch, one big enough to be a waste for a single person. A lush, red carpet, one that seemed made for toes to sift through.There was even a fireplace, one with simmering flames that kept the room illuminated and made the shadows danced about. That, along with the few lights, kept the room in a dimmed, flickering glow.

”Ma’am?” Helen called out, her voice. ”Our guest is here!”

There was only a moment’s pause before a voice answered back, coming along with the tune of a soft saxophone from the back of the abode. ”Ah, good.” There was a distinct regal tone to it, a slight inflection, an accent. British? Somewhere from around there. Definitely not local. ”I’ll be out in a moment, Nadya. I know this all a little oft-putting, but please, make yourself at home. You’ve come this far, see it through.”

Yes, Helen was one of the dumbest people Nadya had ever met. And she had met plenty of them. The girl was nice because she didn't know any better. She was too stupid to be of any significance, either. Without any brains of her own, she was anything from simple cannon fodder to absorb abuse and possibly take the fall when the cops shut this operation down to the right hand of whoever her boss was—and a hand in a very literal sense, merely an extension of that other being with no free will of her own. A tool, a means to an end.

They turned a corner and passed by three more people: two bubbly, stupid nurses and a black woman, tall and buxom and strong. She was the sort of woman that Nadya would have taken liberties with back in her old life. Impressive, most impressive, muscles and womanly assets both.

Nadya spared a glance over her shoulder, but as the woman receded down the hallway she turned her attention back to Helen. Stupid, simple, effectively useless Helen. So according to this source, then, Nadya was here because the woman in charge wanted to fuck her. Great. Nadya probably wouldn't be feeling in the mood for that after being run around and played like this, so she would have to try to figure out how to tell an utter madwoman to fuck off and take her horny cunt to some cheap Tokyo whorehouse for her jollies.

The apartment was nice, she would have to admit. Nicer than any place Nadya had ever lived. Ten times the size, easy, of the place she was living in now. Thoughts like that didn't exactly put her in the best of moods. Nothing put her in the best of moods. Nothing put her in a good mood. Everything around her seemed hollow, devoid of reason, perfectly, utterly idiotic.

She turned to Helen, crossing her arms after she heard her "host" call out to her. "It is incredibly off-putting. I should probably let her know so she vill not pull shit like this in the future," she would say to the "nurse." Maybe she was just inching closer to being killed by talking like that.

"Tell me vhatever you know. I probably have no interest in vhatever she vants from me anyway. So tell me."

Helen had been doing her best to be a gracious host since this whole facade began, leading Nadya through the halls with a smile on her face, despite the woman’s dour composure. To her credit, this was a new experience for her. While they received new personell all the time, they were typically brought in afterthey had been properly vetted, never after. Having Nadya here was a risk, one she wasn’t her employer could afford.

But it wasn’t her place to ask. Nor was it her place to say things that she’d been instructed not to. To ‘snitch’, as Sista A would’ve called it.

So when Nadya began to press her, she tried to keep things up, but the woman had an intimidating presence to her, one that had Helen take a nervous step back, not sure how to proceed. ”Well…” She murmured. [b]”It’s complicated, and-”[/color]

”Oh, lay off the poor girl.”

The voice’s owner made herself present earlier than expected, emerging from a side room. She was a dark, dusky beauty, though it was hard to tell from what corner of the world she hailed from. Her look could’ve been a tan or could’ve natural. Her hair could’ve been dyed. Her features were soft, and the burgundy bathing robe she wore did little to hide them, as she came sauntering with her bare feet padding along the floor.

The look on her face was more curious than anything, silently analyzing Nadya as she approached. ”I know many things. I know you hail from Vladivostok, I know you ran away from home. I know you became. I know you used that position to have your way with quite a few wrestlers who came you way, claiming them when no one was looking.” There wasn’t any judgment in her tone, no condemnation. She spoke facts.

”I’m a wrestler in the AFW, going by the name ‘Anesthesia’. Here you can call me Dr. Cutter.” She threw a glance to Helen, who was standing stockstill with her mouth shut, like a good little girl, before focusing back on their guest. ”And to summarize, I’m doing something somewhat similar to what you were doing before. The difference being that I have a goal in mind besides pure pleasure, and what I do won’t put me in handcuffs. You’re here because I would like to include you in those goals. You’re free to leave as you please, of course - I’ll even have a taxi called to pick you back up, free of charge. All I ask, dear, is that you allow me the time to explain.” She started to move towards her desk off to the side of the room, with waiting chairs on both sides for them. “Acceptable?”

If Nadya was a normal girl, she probably would have felt bad about the way she was treating Helen, while the girl smiled and tried to be a decent hostess. A part of her, even, was normal enough that she almost wished she could go back and have something of a pleasant conversation with the stupid girl. Part of Nadya didn't want to hate everyone she came across.

If that part had any control, she wouldn't be here. She wouldn't have spent the last five years in jail. She wouldn't be a bitter dead-end of a human being. All it was able to do was make her self-aware enough to hate herself along with everyone else.

Helen's boss showed up, and Nadya turned to face her, giving the nurse a respite from the harsh rays of her toxic personality. The Russian woman looked her host up and down, though she wasn't exactly memorizing anything. She didn't see a reason to. She would get through whatever this interaction would be, or she wouldn't, and she had no intention of scheduling playdates or tea parties with whoever this woman was.

The woman introduced herself as Anesthesia—how stupid—soon enough, and then immediately after as Dr. Cutter. Even stupider. This was like a bad cartoon. Now Nadya's thoughts weren't drifting to how to kill Helen, but how to kill herself just to get some release from this nightmarishly moronic charade. The woman had some sort of grand scheme, which she claimed had something to do with raping girls. Nadya wasn't in love with the concept. The whole point of her own...escapades had been her own pleasure, and rape when observed as a third party was hardly any more savory to her than it was to a well-adjusted, upstanding member of society.

As the woman moved towards her desk, Nadya stayed put. "You can talk about vhatever you vant. I am here, so you can vaste however much of your time you vould like. I von't stop you." She crossed her arms and let out a heavy sigh.