by Cody Lakin
“Y-you’re… you’ve been to the fairy libraries?” asked Edgar out of curiosity and an utter uncertainty of how to engage Charlie Knox otherwise.
“That I have,” said Charlie. “There was a time in my life, not so long ago in fact, that I spent several years there, educating myself, learning, absorbing everything I could. There is so much to be learned from the fairies.” That grin returned to Charlie’s face, but with his goggles covering his eyes it was impossible to decipher what his expressions meant. Still, he spoke so calmly, so meticulously. His voice was soft, melodic, carefree. “But I digress,” Charlie went on. “You came here for a reason. You came because you sensed my presence here, and you wished to investigate, perhaps confront me.”
“I…”
“Allow me to explain, to spare you the trouble of asking.” Charlie seized Edgar’s left arm at the bicep and led him to the body of the teenage boy on the asphalt which marked where Forest Street met the beginning of Fairlane Road. “This,” said Charlie, gesturing the way a magician would to a beautiful assistant, “this is Dwayne King. He and his girlfriend—excuse me: ex-girlfriend—” he giggled, and it was genuine rather than sinister, “—They disturbed my meditation this morning. You see, I have been contemplating my own purpose in lingering here in this world and in this relatively useless small town. With such banality everywhere, one as inclined to judgment as I can lose their way, forget their purpose. My parents, for example, lost sight of the truth. They succumbed to earthly, humanly desires and faults. And what did they gain for all their labors? Nothing but a legacy so meaningless as to be labeled as occult. I, however, do not intend to stray.”
“Why are you telling me this? I’m not a part of any of this,” said Edgar, shaking his head. He could smell the metallic scent of the dead boy’s blood.
“Oh, but you are. I’m telling you this because you’re going to tell someone all of what I’m telling you. And it is, shall I say, very important to my purpose that you do so.”
“Who?”
“Don’t you know?” Charlie took a few steps away from Edgar, facing the forest that Fairlane Road wound into, hands hooked slyly behind his back.
Despite himself, despite the fear stiffening through him, Edgar knew who Charlie was talking about.
“Y-yes. I suppose I do know.”
“All that I’m doing here is connected to her. Not every detail, of course, but a large part of it, certainly. But before I can get to her, I must first go through you, and then her father.”
“What?”
“Patience, Edgar Forgael world-walker. In due time. As I was saying moments ago, this boy here came to the park to have sex with his girlfriend, though why they would pick such an uncomfortable and public spot is beyond me. This is what I mean by the frustrating banality of nearly everyone in this world. They interrupted my meditating, but not before I had reassured myself fully enough to feel certain that I had not strayed from my intended path. So to further enhance my point, I killed the boy, but spared his girlfriend. A witness can be of some use. I killed him as a sacrifice, an offer to the immortal Shadows and high invisible ones. That is why I appeared to be praying when you saw me here. But I also killed him and left his pathetic girlfriend alive because it will mean that my presence in this town will become even more prominent than before. By now, not a soul in this town doesn’t know my name.” Charlie Knox’s voice had lost all calmness. There was now a building, tightening tension behind his every word, and his hands were tight fists.
“So you… you’re doing this for vanity? To spread you and your family’s legacy?”
“No. This is merely the first part. The beginning. You see, fear is power, and power is the means to control. This town and all of its people fear me, and that fear will grow, it will spread like fire through a field of wheat, thus making them vulnerable, impressionable, just as you are vulnerable now, shaking and shivering before me, even after all the things you’ve seen in your life. If you did not fear me, you would not listen to me as carefully as you are. So it is with the people of this town. And once they are scared and vulnerable enough, I will show them the truths of the world they live in. I will show them that everything, everything down to the smallest of details, exists only according to the most precious set of physics and science—and it is all a thin, superficial veil. I will show them the truths of the higher world by bringing the higher world’s essence into this one. The pretenses of this shallow world, everything that keeps its philosophical foundations from crumbling, will vanish beneath higher truths. People will once more honor the Shadows and raise their glasses to the high invisible ones.”
Edgar was shaking his head and trying to back away but his legs wouldn’t obey. “That’s what you’re doing? That’s why you’ve been doing these terrible things?”
“Yes.” Charlie grinned. “It’s that simple, and that complex. It starts here, in this town, like a fever. And it will spread. No one realizes how brittle the foundations are upon which they build their lives, their beliefs, their philosophies. Even I am guilty of it.”
“Then… then what does any of this have to do with Jezebel? Or her father? Or me?”
“I’m glad you asked.” Charlie turned around to face him again. “You see, my purpose, my intention, is one of truth. My single purpose in what I am doing here is toward the goal of assimilating the higher truths and deeper meanings of this world with those of the higher world.”
“No.” Edgar did his best to swallow his fear. “That’s what you may tell yourself, Charlie, but you’re talking about introducing darkness into this world, not truth.”
To Edgar’s frightened surprise, Charlie smiled at his challenge, as if this was what he wanted: to debate. Chills ran through Edgar’s body.
“Is there no truth in darkness, Edgar Forgael?”
“Not in the kind you want.”
“Ah, Edgar, let’s not resort to something as base and juvenile as argument fallacy. Who I am and what I’ve done doesn’t affect whether something I say or do is true or false, or right or wrong. You may neglect the messenger, but not the message, if that message is true. My message is truth, even if it may seem of a darker kind because of who I am. In truth, it transcends me.”
Edgar sighed, though his breath had become tremulous. “Perhaps. But I am of the light, Charlie. I realize that one cannot exist without the other, but if you’re trying to convince me that you’re right in what you’re doing, it’s not gonna work.”
“You continue to insist that I am wrong for the simple reason that you are afraid to see the world from my point of view. Do you know what an ad hominem argument fallacy is? It is when you discount or dismiss an argument because of the one making an argument: a personal attack, which is sheer ignorance. You can attack someone personally, but by doing so, you are completely ignoring the facts of their argument. A pity. I had hoped the famous portal-guardian of Fairlane Road might have more objectivity to him.” Charlie Knox shook his head and looked to the sky in thought.
“Are you going to kill me, then, Charlie?” Edgar asked.
“No,” he said softly. “But there is something I must show you. Maybe then you will understand.” Charlie began walking down Fairlane Road. He turned, gestured for Edgar to follow. “Come and see. You will see the higher world on my terms. You will see it as I see it.” He then whispered, just loud enough for Edgar to hear: “Come, see, and despair.”
Chapter 8:
Nightmares
It was sometime in the night, between three and four AM, when someone came knocking on the door of the Jean house.
Jezebel’s eyes flew open and she was looking at the ceiling of her room, at the still ceiling fan and the meaningless patterns in the drywall, and for a moment she couldn’t tell if the wi
ld flutter of heavy knocks from the front door had been in her dream or reality. But then they came again so she sat straight up, rubbing the sticky sleepiness from her eyes, feeling light and distant in her head.
Two urgent thoughts arose in her mind. The first was to wonder who would come knocking so frantically at this hour in the middle of the night, which implied some sort of emergency. Her second thought was that whoever it was might be dangerous, which meant she needed to hurry to the door before her father woke up, and that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to first grab a knife from the kitchen.
With a weary sigh she slipped out of bed, put sweatpants and a bigger t-shirt and sweater on, then ran on her toes to the kitchen, grabbed the biggest knife—one she normally used to cut heads of lettuce with—and then went to the front door.
“Who is it?” she asked, her voice weak but loud enough. There was no answer. She hesitated a moment then, not as afraid as she knew she should be because of how tired she was, and in a quick series of motions she flicked the front porch light on and swung the door wide, knife held steady in front of her.
It was Edgar Forgael. His skin and clothes were soaked with sweat, his hands were trembling, and his eyes glimmered with tears. She could see his jaw quivering, and how his whole body shook, making him look so frail and delicate.
Jezebel had never seen him this way, and the shock came so heavily that, at first, her mind refused to recognize him or accept him for who he was. As far back as she could remember, there had always been a smile in those piercing eyes and under that bushy beard. To see him like this—trembling, blubbering, shaken—was incomprehensible, and her head started to spin.
“Edgar,” was all she could manage to say.
Edgar looked down, fidgeting with his hands. “I-I… I wouldn’t… c-come here, like this, you know, at this hour…” He trailed off as hysteria threatened to overwhelm him.
“Here. Come inside. I can—”
“No.” Edgar, older and more vulnerable than she had ever seen him in appearance, shook his head, refusing to make eye-contact out of obvious shame. “We should talk out here,” he said, forcing himself to calm down enough to speak coherently. He swallowed hard, took a deep breath. “Don’t wanna disturb your father.”
Jezebel followed Edgar out to the lawn, and just when she was unsure of where it was he wanted to go, he stopped where the end of the lawn met the street’s asphalt, stuffed his hands into his pockets, and let out a long shuddery sigh. The front side of his body was covered in shadow, with his back lit up by the house’s front porch. Jezebel stood to his side, arms wrapped around herself as she tried to keep herself from shivering.
“Tell me what’s going on,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound as scared as she felt.
Edgar sniffled and spoke in a strange, wheezy voice. “I met Charlie Knox today, Jezebel. Out on Fairlane Road.”
Jezebel’s veins ran cold and her heart went to her throat. “What?”
“He murdered a boy this morning, a teenager, and… and brought the body out there. And I went and I saw him, and…” Edgar lifted a hand up to his mouth. Even in the darkness, Jezebel saw his eyes glitter again with tears. “He told me… everything.”
“He spoke to you?”
Edgar nodded. He swallowed and his throat clicked. “It’s nothing like I thought. He’s nothing like I thought, Jezebel…” He turned toward her. “All my life I thought I… I thought I understood the world, or at least for the most part. How it worked, what was good and what was… evil. What any of that meant. I thought I knew who I was and what I s-stood for.” He laughed humorlessly. “I even thought I understood him. Charlie Knox.”
“Edgar I… I don’t understand. What did he tell you? What’s… what happened?”
There was a long silence between them, and with every passing second the night seemed to grow colder and more menacing. Edgar sat on the curb, wiping a layer of perspiration from his forehead and neck. After a moment, Jezebel sat too, crossing her legs.
* * *
He told me all of this because he knew—he knew—that I would tell you, and that’s exactly what he wanted. You see, Jezebel, I was wrong about him. I think we all were, but it’s not our faults. His parents were psychopaths, occult leaders. They were crazy, so I assumed he had to be like them. Insane, and dangerous, but insane nonetheless. I never saw this coming, which is why I have to tell you what he told me, even though it’s what he wants. I have to warn you.
I have to warn you because… because he’s not crazy, like everyone thinks. He’s not evil, at least not the way any one of us could understand. And he… he isn’t wrong, in what he’s doing and plans to do. That’s why I’m here, why I can hardly control myself. He isn’t wrong.
Everything he’s done up to this point has some sort of purpose, some addition to his whole plan, and the thing is, it all has to do with you, Jezebel. You see, I… h-he explained it to me this way, and it’s not something I want to tell you, but… but it’s the truth. And I kept trying to think of ways of telling you on my way here, but it’s… well, it’s hard enough even convincing myself, truth be told, so I s’pose dancing around it won’t do any good.
He told me that you and him are tied in more ways than you know. That, one way or the other, your fates go hand in hand. And this is because you’re the opposites of each other: two sides of the same coin, is how he said it. One can’t exist without the other. Each balances the other out, like Yin and Yang, darkness and light. And that means you’re the light, and he’s the darkness. It’s all part of what he’s doing, maybe even the spark for it in the first place. I don’t know how it’s possible—the higher world is full of mysteries far beyond my knowledge—but you… you and him share the same soul, Jezebel. The same soul severed in two parts. The light and the dark.
And then there’s his plan.
He said it’s about truth: opening the minds of the people of this world to the higher truths, reviving what mankind used to know in the days of ancient knowledge, ancient gods, even. Like the Shadows, and the invisible ones. He spoke a lot about them. The killings are just the beginning. He gets the satisfaction of killing who he chooses in the name of sacrifice, and to make the people of the town vulnerable, because if they’re vulnerable enough, if they become desperate enough, they’ll accept anything, any kind of hope, or knowledge. They’ll be more susceptible to the truths that would become revealed if this world started to merge with the higher world. It’s really that simple… only there’s more to it, and more to him.
Before he can accomplish any of this, he wants to face you. First me, then comes your father, then you. I don’t know why, but I got this strange sense that… that, maybe, he thought you or your father might be able to stop him. To convince him that his cause is wrong after all. And it was like he wanted that. Like, maybe, he wants to see if someone’s truths would be good enough to convince him that his are wrong… like challenges stimulate him. Or like he’s testing himself. Like opposition is what feeds him, just like the Taoists say: give evil no opposition, and it will disappear on its own.
* * *
Edgar Forgael paused there, eyes now drying as he looked at Jezebel whose face was dawning with horror and disbelief. Her body was shuddering from the cold but her hands and jaw were trembling from fear. She was glad that she was sitting down because the inside of her head was whirling.
At least a dozen possible questions ran through her mind in the silence, but for a few long minutes she couldn’t find the right words or get her voice to work. Finally, she was able to settle her panicking emotions and look Edgar in the eyes again. “Edgar, you… you said that he wasn’t wrong. What…” She paused, breathed deeply. “After all he’s done, and everything he says he wants to do…”
“Perhaps I did not p
hrase it correctly. As a man, I do believe that Charlie Knox is… is as close to evil as I have ever encountered in my lifetime. Even with all of my beliefs and all I’ve come to learn, I believe Charlie Knox may be evil. But that is simply because I want to believe it. His purpose, his plans for this town, and for this world… none of it has anything to do with right or wrong. It’s about truth. He comes from a dark place, and it may seem wrong to us because we walk in the light, but truly, however much I hate to think so, that dark path isn’t… wrong.”
“I don’t understand.”
“Nor did I, until he took my arm and led me down Fairlane Road.”
“You went together?”
“I didn’t resist because I was… I was stunned, and in spite of myself I was curious. He showed me his version of the higher world—what he sees it as, what it is for him.” Edgar paused again and grinned a peculiar grin as he wiped at the marks of tears on his cheeks. “I expected it to be terrible. Like I told you, the way the higher world changes for everyone who sees it… I thought his would be filled with darkness. But he brought me, showed me the way he sees it. And you know something, Jezebel? It wasn’t so different, after all. In fact, it was beautiful.”
Jezebel’s stomach lurched. She had been contemplating what Edgar had said about the higher world, trying to comprehend it, understand it, most of all accept it. It was a reflection of oneself. Down Fairlane Road she saw beauty, wonder, and experienced an uncommon sense of contentment and fulfillment. She had imagined that Charlie Knox’s version of it would be shadowy, dark, menacing. If he was such a dark and terrible person, the version of the higher world that he saw would be just as terrible: a reflection of himself.