Dr. Xiao’s wife Shuang was a gifted psychic in her own right. Within seconds of meeting someone, she could read people’s surface thoughts with ease. For example, if she met someone and they were hungry, Shuang could tell the person exactly what food they were thinking about and where they were thinking of getting it from, etc. She also had an uncanny ability to predict future events. Shuang’s predictions were infrequent and often not clear at the moment she relayed them. But she had a high rate of accuracy and specificity.
Shuang’s abilities had manifested in her forties when she had been diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. The type of MS she had been diagnosed with was called primary progressive MS (PPMS). This version of the diseased differed from Max’s, which was called relapsing remitting MS (RRMS). Max’s type of MS was often dormant except for when it flared up. The flare-ups could be mild or severe and could last anywhere from a few days to months. The only good news about his type of MS was that despite the harshness of the flare-ups given time, they would subside. Also, by following a lifestyle that kept his mind and body healthy he could reduce his chances of an exacerbation happening.
The type of MS Shuang had (PPMS) was totally different. With PPMS, symptoms usually came on strong and fast and worsened over time with little or no improvements. There were no flare-ups per se instead, the person continually lived with the various symptoms of the disease. If they were fortunate there would be brief periods of relief while the MS continued to deteriorate the afflicted person’s body and mind. When Shuang was diagnosed, the symptoms attacked her body with a vengeance. Before the disease, Shuang had been a vibrant woman in her early forties who loved a variety of sports ranging from tennis and running to golf and billiards. Prior to MS, she had won medals in several local marathons and was a gifted painter and poet. Max knew she held an MFA in Poetics from a small school called New College of California ad for a while had taught creative writing at Sahalish University.
Her MS diagnosis had been almost four years ago. Shuang had not been able to walk since then, not even with a walker. She was now wheelchair-bound. Other functions, like speech and eyesight had also been affected. Where once she’d had near-perfect vision Shuang now wore glasses. Shuang had maintained limited use of her upper body and arms but had to take medication to help relieve the frequent pain of muscle spasms that wracked her.
One thing the disease had not done was break Shuang’s spirit. Despite being disabled, Shuang tried as best she could to keep her mind active by using her abilities to help others. She also read a lot. She still wrote poetry when able. She even still did some painting, although not as much before due to the declining motor control in her hands. Shuang maintained her physical fitness as much as possible also. She competed in the Special Olympics and had even won a medal one year.
Throughout all of this Chung stuck by his wife. He helped her to maintain her health. He also used his scientific knowledge and resources to perform as much research as possible on the disease. Chung hoped to one day discover a cure for his wife’s condition.
“You think the kids have a good shot of getting in the academy?” Max asked. “I mean how will they afford it?”
Laz looked at his friend. Max often came across as stoic or gruff, but the priest knew that beneath Max’s rough exterior, his friend cared more about people than he pretended to.”
“Don’t worry, my friend,” Laz said. “I think the children have an excellent shot of making into the school. I will see to it myself. Plus, once Chung and Shuang see what Mattie can do I believe they will do everything in their power to get the child close so they can monitor him. Mattie will be taken care of. Ten fi mi amigo.”
Laz’s words helped ease Max’s concerns. Max knew what he said about the Xiaos was true.
It was Xiao’s desire for research with money seeded by various patrons (including some government agencies) that had allowed the couple to found what they called the Xiao Institute of Research and Learning. Ostensibly the institute served as a sort of private school for children with special needs. It was a place where children could come and get their educational requirements met to prepare for college while having their specific needs met. The academy did truly serve this purpose. Every teacher at the academy had a background in dealing with special needs kids of all ages.
What was not widely known was that the school’s true purpose was to detect and work with those rare students who possessed some sort of special and often mental (or as Chung dubbed it psionic) ability. Chung had become convinced that often times the development of psionic powers affected the bearer’s physical body. It was Chung’s hypothesis that Shuang’s condition was predicated by her psychic skills and the stress that such abnormally strong powers had on her body. Max didn’t know how far along the Xiaos had gotten in their research. He knew they were good people sincere in their beliefs and their desire to help others.
“What about Leslie?”
Laz looked out the window as the police car containing the two kids drove by.
“With the abuse that girl has gone through (for who knows how many years) I would say she definitely has some emotional needs that should be tended to. Coupled with the fact she is nearly old enough by the law to be Mattie’s guardian, I would say it would be in Mattie’s best interest for the two of them to be kept together. That will be my official recommendation.”
“So are you saying she should be able to get into the academy too?”
Laz sighed.
“She may not be able to get into the special classes but into the Institute as a whole…yes. Yes, I do.”
Max gave a grunt of satisfaction.
If Mattie was going to be placed at the Xiao Institute, at least, Max could rest assured the boy was in good hands. If Leslie would be in the facility with him, that would be an added bonus.
“Well, I guess we are all good then,” Max said.
Max shifted the gear into drive and punched the gas pedal. Gemma purred eager to please. Max started to turn up the radio, but Laz stopped him.
“Hey! Wait there’s just one more thing,” Laz said.
He looked straight at Max.
“Remember what Mattie said about the Bad Man? He said something about dark eyes watching him and not just dark eyes black eyes. What was up with that?”
Max thought about it for a moment. The car engine gave a steady hum as he considered Laz’s words. The priest was right Mattie had mentioned something about the Bad Man with dark eyes. Still, Max knew had searched the house thoroughly for any kind of paranormal infestation. His senses had always came back empty.
“I don’t know,” Max said. “We both looked all over the house for anything demonic and nothing was there. It’s like you said, as far as we can tell, both of these kids have been abused their whole lives. There’s no telling what kind of imaginary stuff trauma like that can create.”
Max winced.
“I mean, if my father was abusing me like that repeatedly and I was young boy, I would probably imagine some black-eyed monster doing it to me too rather than my own parent.”
The answer seemed logical to Laz.
Max looked over at his friend. Laz ran his right hand through his dark hair. It was something he did when he was heavy in thought, particularly about a problem that was confounding him.
“Hey, man look,” Max said. “I don’t like this situation at all, either. I mean, what happened to those kids…What was done to them is horrible. No correction it is straight fucked up, but we looked for demons and spirits and none were there. All of that just proves one philosophy I have held to my whole life. One that you probably know as well.”
“What’s that?” Laz asked.
“That the worst monsters aren’t demons or devils or ghosts. The worst monsters are all too human.”
The silence of Max’s words hung in the air thick as humidity after a hot July rain. Silence reigned as Max shifted the car into drive. The sky was overcast, but a small ray of sunshine streaked through the drizzling c
louds. The beam glimmered like a candle in the dark.
Laz turned up the radio.
The electric chords of Exposé’s “Point of No Return” played on the radio station.
Behind them, the house on Mt. Caramel Drive faded into the distance. The sunlight breaking through the clouds did not touch the house. The sky above the home was leaden. The shadows lingered creeping around the house like a band of rogues. The drizzling rain ran in small streams against the windows. From one of the windows eyes that were dark and bottomless watched Max drive away. The eyes smiled. The darkness matches the laughter of the guttural voice that whispered four words.
“Soon, Max MacAulay. Soon.”
THE END
About The Author
Sandler L. Bryson
Sandler lives in the Triangle area of North Carolina. He earned his Bachelor of Arts degree from the Evergreen State College, where he studied prose and poetry. His love of fantasy and speculative fiction began at an early age. He started writing fantasy stories in the first grade. When not writing his hobbies include, reading (novels and comics), watching films, playing tabletop role-playing games, and drinking a good beer. He particularly likes that the latter interest can be enjoyed simultaneously with the other three hobbies. He is currently working on the next story which is set in the Contaminated Angels storyline. For correspondence he can be reached at [email protected]
Books By This Author
Flame Soul
Blood Oaths, Dark Magic, and Clashing Blades Hold Sway In Mythical Yambe! Can One Lone Tribesman Save His People and Keep His Soul?
In the harsh lands of the Naban all people are gifted with an affinity for elemental magic.
Kasim, the chieftain’s son, was born with a physical affliction. He is an outcast amongst his people. Despite this, he bears a talent for wielding the most elusive of the five elements—the power of Spirit. When his parents and his people are slaughtered by a rival tribe, Kasim swears to avenge their deaths. His oath will take him down a blood-strewn path of swashbuckling retribution.
In order to bring his vengeance to fruition Kasim will need help. Besides the powers of nature there are other (darker) powers that are eager to aid him in his quest. What will these powers demand in return? Will Kasim pay the price even if it means the loss of his very soul?
Flame Soul is an introductory story set in the world of Ayambi, a mythical world that resembles ancient Africa. It is also serves as a prelude to the upcoming superhero science-fiction series Contaminated Angels.
Invitation To Evil: A Max MacAulay Novel Page 10