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The Great Mephisto

The Great Mephisto

By Patrick McHale - 1 Review

The Great Mephisto!

I checked my look in the mirror. Still expensive looking without the money I used to have. Hair greying at the temples, bright blue eyes, perfect shirt, on trend jeans and loafers. Dressed to kill or cure. It was Tuesday, my volunteer day at the hospital- the great Mephisto - Jason Pemberly and his hypnotherapy show!

Terry was in terrible pain from his terminal cancer. No amount of morphine could kill it. Which is where I come in.

“You are asleep now Terry”. His head lolled forward in a trance.

“Terry you will feel no pain. You will feel discomfort but it’s nothing you haven’t shrugged off before. When you wake up you will only feel a bit of discomfort but you’ll get on with it”. I woke him up.

“How do you feel Terry?” I asked

He smiled back at me “I don’t feel any pain, a bit of a twinge but its nothing to what I have had. You are a miracle worker!”

“I know – call me Jesus “I said smugly

This was real hypnotherapy and made me happy that I was no longer a financial advisor. I fairly skipped out of the hospital. I was happy and had a new client coming this afternoon. He was an Asian man, mid-50s,pot-bellied, always smiling. He runs an Asian supermarket and is very successful, as he keeps telling me. He is hard not to like except for the constant boasting.

“Mr Jason, I need your help” he starts “I smoke 60 a day and I want to stop”

“Why do you want to stop Ahmed?”

“Well it’s just silly. I could run the shop with one less if I was not outside every twenty minutes smoking”

“So it’s a financial motivation?”

“This brought a flurry of hand waving and smiling “No, no, no Mr Jason. I am a successful man like you. I take three thousand a day. I am scared that I will not see my grandchildren and end up on a cancer ward” he said. I thought of Terry – would Ahmed one day be calling me Jesus?

In a few minutes he was under. I planted a post hypnotic suggestion word which means I could put him under immediately in future. I decided getting him to quit immediately was too much, just cut it down, then he would be back for more sessions.

After Ahmed left I was washing up the plates in my tiny kitchen when someone banged on the door, banged not knocked. I had a feeling I knew what was coming. Drying my hands, I opened the door.

A hand pushed the door in hard, but I had my foot behind it, I’d been here before.

“Mr Pembury?” smiled the unshaven, fat faced, paunchy, leather coated beer smelling thug.

“You know who I am” I spat back. These were the thugs Shawcross used to collect

“Mr Shawcross is owed five grand and wants it by Friday” the man breathed into my face, as he kept pushing the door.

“I ‘ll get it by next month” I started to say but the door exploded inwards. I crumpled to the floor as a punch took all the wind out of me and nearly made me vomit. He kicked me hard three times until I thought I would pass out, then he stopped.

“Don’t fuck with me ponce. Just get the fucking money by Friday or I will give you a proper kicking next time and burn your fucking flat down”

He slammed the door leaving me curled on the floor. I had pain from my ribs and stomach. I hated Shawcross, yes I stole from him, but he had more than the rest and what is five grand to him? To me it was a mountain of money I did not have.

By six o clock I was getting clearer in my mind, there was no way I could get five grand by Friday. I hugged my bruised body and waited for inspiration. Before any came the doorbell went. It was the Police.

“Mr Pembury?”

“Yes, how can I help you?” I said. It was a plain clothes woman mid-30s, slim and serious.

“I am Dr Christopher. I work with the police, can I come in?”

“Of course,” I said. The evening sun filled the living room. I was nervous, I was not sure what was coming.

“We have been given your name by the hospital. They speak very highly of you there.We have a tough nut to crack. He is a very violent young man and the Chief Constable wants to try a new approach”

Now this was something. Working with the police on tough stuff. I had visions of murder cases and national coverage.

“His name is Peter Snee. He is a violent criminal and a racist who has attacked a victim very seriously”

“Why will he not be going to prison?”

“The victim will not press charges, too dangerous with the likes of Snee and his mates”

“So why would he agree to see me?”

“Call it a plea-bargin. We won’t keep sniffing around the witnesses if he agrees to work with you”

“And has he agreed?”

“Yes, he’s outside”. I almost choked on the suddenness of it. I was not ready, this was no normal session. “You want me to see him now?”

“Yes, if that is possible”

“Tell me more first”

“Ok, well, he is 27, white, a record as long as your arm right back to 12 years old, burglary, car theft and GBH . Lately he is mixing with a far-right group targeting Asians in some nasty attacks”

“So how does a hypnotherapist fit into all of this?” I was puzzled

She did her best not to look exasperated and failed. “New initiative, Chiefs idea”

“You’re not convinced”

“It doesn’t matter what I think” she shrugged

“Better bring him in then” I said in the best bold way I could. Two officers brought in Snee. He towered over them. He was a thin man, shaven head, jeans, black T-Shirt, boots, tattoos, cocky smile. He had an electric energy about him, an anger, adrenaline, charisma, pent up ready-to go-violence.

“Please take a seat” I gestured to him.

“No” said Snee

“Shut the fuck up Snee and sit down” barked Dr Christopher. Snee shrugged and squeezed himself into a chair. I was nervous as hell I had never dealt with people like this.

“I am going to hypnotise you now” I said happy to be falling into a routine I knew.

“Good luck dickhead” said Snee

I put Snee under. It was hard, it took nearly twenty minutes and a lot of abuse.The session was gruelling and after half an hour I had had enough, so I brought him round.

He smiled at me “Done yer crap tosser?

I did not respond. Dr Christopher nodded and the two uniformed officers bundled him out as roughly as possible.

“Thank you, Jason,” she said

“It was exhausting” I replied, but what I meant was disgusting

“We will pay you just let us know how much it was and I will bring him back on Thursday”

Thursday arrived and I had to see Ahmed first then Snee. Ahmed was straightforward. Snee was in a different class altogether, like doing battle with a monster from the deep. I went to work after getting Dr Christopher, reluctantly, to leave us alone.

Without question this was the most complex and difficult session I had ever undertaken. Snee struggled, resisted, and swore. They say a hypnotised subject can never win, Snee came as close as anyone ever has.

The next day, Friday, I waited and my phone rang as I was expecting.

“You have Klondike?” I said


“My house now” I said

When I got home Snee was at the door, no minders this time. I let him in and closed the door behind him

“Klondike shower” I said activating one of the suggestions. Snee smiled and handed over a bag of money.

“How did it go Peter?”

“Just like you said I just said My Name is Snee and he smiled opened his safe and gave me everything in it.

“Here” I said tossing him a handful of notes. I was just stashing the rest when the thugs arrived for payment. I was ready and so was Snee. “Vengence” I said and opened the door. Snee burst onto the pavement with shocking energy, pulling a knife from his boot. It was bloody fight but Snee won killing them both. I phoned the police whilst they fought.

I testified against Snee and he got life. Ahmed had no recollection of the events at all, just as I had planted in him. I paid off Shawcross and was ten grand up. I apologised for the failure to Dr Christopher.

“I knew it wouldn’t work, you can’t work magic on an animal like Snee” she said

“No, well you live and learn” I smiled “fancy a drink sometime?”

Author Notes: Please give feedback - I am a very new writer and trying to learn

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About The Author
Patrick McHale
About This Story
17 Feb, 2018
Read Time
7 mins
4.0 (1 review)

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