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Jessica turned her head and saw the man.
British accent, purple suit, not bad-looking, but there was an indescribable creepiness about him.
"I don't know you," Jessica said warily.
"My name's Kilgrave." The man smiled as he sat beside her. "I saw you last night, in the alley. You're special, Jessica."
Half of Jessica's drunken haze evaporated instantly.
"You followed me?" Her fingers tightened around the glass.
"No, no, no." Kilgrave lifted his hands in a harmless gesture. "It was fate. I just happened to pass by. Do you... do you feel this world is rotten? That no one understands you?"
Those words struck the softest spot in Jessica's heart.
She froze.
"You..."
"I know." Kilgrave's voice carried a spell-like quality; his eyes grew unfathomably deep.
"I know your loneliness, Jessica. You don't have to be so tired. You don't have to fight it."
He leaned closer, whispering into her ear:
"You only need to... fall in love with me."
Jessica's pupils dilated. Her clenched fist slowly loosened.
She stared at Kilgrave, her gaze shifting from wary and angry to... infatuated.
"I..."
"You love me." Kilgrave savored the change. "Now, stand up and come with me... you want to."
"...Yes." Jessica rose, her eyes vacant yet carrying an eerie bliss.
"I... I want to go with you."
Jack the bartender frowned. "Hey, Jessica, you okay? You don't know this guy!"
Kilgrave glanced back and smiled.
"Jack? Deep down you believe your life's greatest wish is to hop on the bar and crow like a rooster for five minutes."
"...What?"
"Cock-a-doodle-doo! Cock-a—!" Jack suddenly leapt onto the bar, flapping his arms wildly and letting out loud rooster crows.
The bar erupted into chaos.
Kilgrave slipped his arm around Jessica Jones and walked out.
"See, Jessica?" He stroked her hair. "This world is my playground. And you... are my most beautiful toy."
...Penthouse suite, Marriott.
Jessica Jones stood in the center like a puppet.
Her mind was trapped in a deep-purple cage. She could hear, could see, but she couldn't control her body.
Fear deeper than death.
"You're so beautiful, Jessica."
Kilgrave loosened his tie and poured two glasses of red wine.
"Do you know how long I've searched for you? I saw your video from the Battle of New York on Facebook. The way you smashed that alien... mesmerizing!"
He carried the glasses over, admiring his masterpiece.
"They call that blond bastard 'Homelander,' they call Stark 'Iron Man.' But they're clowns."
"And I," he lifted Jessica's chin gently, "am a god. Jessica, you're my goddess queen."
He inhaled the scent of her hair greedily.
"Now... smile. Give me your sweetest smile."
Jessica's lips stretched into a stiff smile against her will.
"Perfect." Kilgrave's breathing quickened.
"Now... take off your jacket. You want to do this for me."
Jessica's hands trembled.
Her mind screamed, wept, resisted.
"No... no... no!!! Please... let me go..."
Yet her fingers still moved, unzipping the jacket.
"Yes, just like that..." Kilgrave's face flushed with excitement.
Right then.
Knock, knock, knock.
Three polite taps came from the balcony's French doors.
Kilgrave's arousal snapped; he turned, irritated.
"Who the hell—"
He saw the figure that had been on every screen lately.
"Homelander."
Anthony floated outside the balcony, flashing a corporate-perfect smile, the star-spangled cape flapping in the night wind.
Hell, this was the sixtieth floor!
"Good evening." Anthony punched through the glass and stepped inside.
"Sorry to interrupt. I was flying overhead and thought I heard the lady say... 'no'?"
"None of your business! Get lost!" Kilgrave's face twisted.
How dare this blond bastard ruin his perfect night?!
"Can't you understand English?!" Kilgrave pointed at Anthony and gave Jessica the cruelest command:
"Jessica! Kill him! Rip his head off!"
Jessica's gaze flipped from infatuation to murder.
"Yes."
She spun like a rabid beast, hurling a punch at Anthony with truck-flipping force.
Boom—!
A dull thud.
Jessica's fist landed squarely on Anthony's chest.
He didn't budge. He glanced at the fist, then at Jessica's struggling face, and offered an encouraging smile. "Good strength, but not enough."
"What are you waiting for?! Kill him!!" Kilgrave shrieked.
"Sorry, ma'am."
Anthony raised his right hand, formed an elegant finger-flower, and tapped her forehead—flick!
The crisp forehead flick, laced with a tiny sting, jolted straight into her brain.
Bzz—!
Jessica's vision blacked out; Kilgrave's cursed voice cut off instantly.
She snapped awake and collapsed backward.
Anthony caught her.
"You..." Jessica gasped, drenched in cold sweat. She whipped her head toward the purple-shirt figure.
"Kilgrave—!!!"
All the fear, rage, and humiliation she'd suppressed exploded.
"I'll kill you!!" She charged like a lioness.
"No! No! Jessica, stop! I command you to stop!" Kilgrave scrambled away in terror.
But his orders had no effect on a forcibly sober Jessica.
"I order you, Homelander!!" Kilgrave turned to Anthony. "Protect me! Kill her!"
Anthony stood with arms crossed, watching the farce.
"Why... aren't you moving?!" Kilgrave stared in horror.
Anthony dug a finger in his ear.
"You're hurting my ears."