by David Kempf
“Read the writing on the wall, Jack.”
“There are no gods but our gods.”
“There are no laws but our laws.”
“All dissent will be punished.”
“These are the laws of the Gongorites.”
Chapter 16
“Every man must do two things alone; he must do his own believing and his own dying.”
“Martin Luther?” Christopher asked.
“Yes,” said David.
“Nice quote, David.”
“Thanks.”
“I think I know what the next topic of conversation is already,” Christopher said.
“Well, you’ll probably guess what it is, Chris.”
“Is it taxes?’ Christopher asked.
“No,” said David. He looked at Christopher and began to laugh out loud. A good, hearty laugh that was a little embarrassing.
“I’m close though, aren’t I?” asked Christopher.
“I think you know you are, lad.”
“Do you mean death?”
“That is precisely what I mean.”
This was an excellent topic because everyone simply must die. That is the reality everyone must face. It was, that is, until Christopher met David and found a path to immortality. Granted, it was an insidious path but just the same, it leads to a place where no one had to pass away.
“Did you like the last story, David?”
“Yes.”
“What specifically did you enjoy?” Christopher asked his mentor.
“I thought we were talking about death.”
“We were, David. But I’m curious.”
“Fine, I’ll share. Listen, it was a good tale. The invaders came from elsewhere and took you people as slaves.”
“Yes.”
“They forced you with superior technology and brute force. You know, of course, that the masters will not rule that way,” said David.
“I know,” nodded Christopher.
“It was an excellent story that thinly disguised man’s brutality and religious fanaticism. I think that’s what you were getting at, Chris,” David said.
“Yes.”
“Am I correct in my assumptions?”
“You are,” said Christopher.
“Good.”
“Well, you are for the most part, David.”
“Oh?”
“I think you missed the whole point about personal freedom. Man’s innate right to be free and have free will,” Christopher explained.
“Okay,” said David. He was now laughing hysterically.
“What could possibly be funny about that, David?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Everything about it is funny!”
“What?”
“The more you go deeper into the great truths that we know; the terrible, terrible truths, your eyes will open. You will be transformed in every possible way.”
“I don’t understand, David.”
“That much is obvious,” agreed David. “Listen to me, my young friend. There is no such thing as free will for the stupid, idiotic race of fools called men. None exists. If superior creatures such as me lack any trace of free will, then men do not possess it.”
“Look, David….”
“Look. If our kind can’t possess it, then the race of idiots cannot.”
“David?” Christopher asked, puzzled.
“Now, we cannot have this free will. I’ll take it further to continue to illustrate my point. The masters themselves do not have this great imaginary quality known as free will.”
“They don’t?” asked Christopher.
“No. They do not. Like us and the stupid humans, they are what they are.”
“It can’t be that simple.”
“Oh, it is. It is, my friend.”
Christopher looked deep into the fireplace. He was now starting to wonder about the nature of reality once again. If what David said was true, then he was always destined to be one of the immortals. He would make the ghoulish choice to join them. No matter how human blood was spilled, he was in league with these creatures. If this was the case, no free will existed and Christopher Wisdom was born a monster. Then in an odd way, he was never really human at all.
“I guess we have no more choice to be what we like then the fire has the right not to be fire,” said Christopher.
“Yes.”
“That’s a pretty sad reality,” said Christopher.
“It is.”
“Speaking of sad realities, I guess it’s time to talk about the grim reaper.”
“Yes, my lad.”
“Well, I’ve given a hell of a lot of thought to the subject. You know, being a horror writer and all. That’s a pretty damn big topic to be discussed here. Death is another reality that humans don’t understand. The unknown aspects of death make for the central plots of great tales of suspense and terror.”
“Much more than that,” said David.
“I’m sorry?” Christopher said questioningly.
“Death is the central plot of human existence! Humans fear the grave. It’s only natural. I mean, at least the other stupid creatures on the planet lack the brain cells to comprehend their own mortality. What a blessing it must be to never know that you will be erased from existence someday.”
“I would think that you already know that blessing.”
“I do,” agreed David.
“David, my friend, please tell me something. Is it a blessing or a curse?”
“Stop bugging me, boy. I know damn well how smart you are. I don’t just mean because I read your stories. My observations of you in the classroom and here in my home tell me much.”
“Such as what for instance?”
“One of the reasons that the masters chose you is that you’re afraid to die.”
“Nonsense,” said Christopher, shaking his head.
“No. You are. Every single tale you tell in your little stories screams of your fear of death,” David insisted.
“All humans fear death,” said Christopher.
“No. They don’t. Many pray for it every single day.”
“I never prayed for it.”
“No. You prayed that it would never come.”
David was cutting Christopher to the quick with vicious savagery. It was true. He had feared death far more than most people he had met in his life. The people in his family were too concerned with making money and watching sports to truly contemplate the grave. Even those who had thought about it just figured that there was nothing one could do about death. So why worry? A writer of horror stories has to worry or at least imagine being in a state of panic. One had to empathize with people who were being murdered, tortured and dying a terrible death. Moreover, one might even have to imagine an afterlife with eternal punishment. In many ways, organized religion provided the ultimate tales of terror. Christopher feared death more than most. It was true. That’s why he ultimately turned to David and the masters and accepted their dark invitation.
“Okay, David. You’re right about me. I do fear it more than most. I always have feared it more, I guess.”
“Indeed, you have.”
“Is that some kind of character flaw to you?”
“Character flaw?” asked David.
“Yes.”
“No. I would say quite the opposite. The fear of death is the beginning of knowledge, I suspect. Only fools put their hopes into an afterlife that may or may not truly exist. Then there are other fools who think they can freeze themselves or science will provide the means for eternal life. They are all fools, every single bloody one of them! Put you’re faith in the masters and be their servant. Otherwise, you will die. You will perish just like a dog or a cat. You will be erased from time almost like you never actually existed at all.”
“You make the masters sound like God,” Christopher said.
“Well, in a way….”
“Speaking of which, I must ask you something.”
“I know where this is going,” smiled
David.
“You do?”
“Of course, I do. Ask away, lad.”
“Is there a God?”
“I have no idea, Christopher.”
“You don’t. Why?”
“Once again, we will discuss these matters later. You need to continue with your training with me.”
“I see.” Christopher said these words in ignorance. He did not understand. If he was going to embark on this immortal journey he thought he had the right to have his most basic questions answered. Whether or not God existed was certainly an important question to ask. It was the most important mystery that needed to be solved. David was being obtuse about the whole thing.
“We’re here to talk about death. Can’t you understand that?” David asked.
“Yes.”
“We need to be held accountable to the masters for our time.”
“I understand, David.”
“We need to talk about death and the fear of it.”
“I spoke to that issue in my fiction,” Christopher stated.
“I know, and that’s one of the reasons I chose you.”
“You chose me?” Christopher asked.
“Well, me and the masters.”
“I see.”
“No, you don’t. Not yet. You will see. You will see it all and your eyes will be opened like you would never, ever believe. It is coming, my friend. All of it and you won’t believe it. The nature of reality is much more strange and sinister then I think you are willing to acknowledge to yourself. It is an incredible, amazing thing. When you see what the masters have in store for humanity, you will not know how to react to it.”
“I believe you, David.”
“Good, you should,” David smiled.
“I know.”
“They are the fiercest creatures that have ever been born. That’s if they have been born; I am immortal and I don’t even know if they were ever born or if they simply always existed since the beginning of time! They are a mystery and they are something awesome to behold. I mean truly awesome, not in the stupid way that humans throw that word around. When you get to speak with them and know them, you will be filled with awe. Shock and awe are their very natures!”
“I have no doubt,” said Christopher.
“Yes, you do have doubts.”
“I do?”
“Yes. In your stupid mortal state you still do, but I promise you that you won’t when you have the honor of bowing before them and their greatness!”
“I look forward to it, David.”
“Indeed, you should.”
“Yes.”
“Christopher Wisdom, it will be the ultimate honor of your life to pay homage to them. I guarantee that it will.”
“Just as it was your greatest honor, David?”
“Oh! Yes! I don’t quite have the words to speak of them.”
“Apparently, you do not,” said Christopher.
“They appreciate wicked wit and dark humor, Christopher. However, disrespect and mockery will be severely punished.”
“I understand.”
“Good.”
“What was it you wanted to discuss, David?”
“Why you are afraid of death, in your own words?”
“Death is part of life, David. I have always known that. It’s not the death of others that frightens me. It’s personal death.”
“That’s an excellent answer, Christopher.”
“Thanks.”
“You’re self-centered and self-absorbed to the core. That’s wonderful.”
“What?” Christopher asked, surprised.
“Our kind has always been very selfish. What could be more self-indulgent and narcissistic than wanting to live forever?”
“Don’t know,” said Christopher.
“We are the most selfish creatures on the planet with the exception of ….well.”
David meant the masters, of course. They were behind the evil powers of selfish greed and blood lusts. Making terrible wishes come true all the time. Christopher had an awful thought that wouldn’t leave his head. He wondered if eternal life might be more of a curse than a blessing. The tedium of living night after night for the rest of time might be agonizing. He didn’t know that for sure yet. Christopher was still human and had never been in contact with the masters. It could be that living forever was a prison sentence without any possibility for parole. He pushed the thought out of his head. If living forever was an unending hell, he had the rest of time to discover that for himself.
“I find your brutal honesty to be rather refreshing,” David said.
“Thanks.” Christopher smiled at David and then gazed out the window for a few moments. He could see snow coming down and he found it to be quite lovely. He would see many seasons change during his eternity on this planet. He pondered whether or not there would be life here forever or if humans would have to go into space someday. Would his kind have to follow them in their spaceship? He laughed to himself. Christopher’s thoughts were half way into generating ideas for more short horror stories. He was amusing himself. It was the fear of the unknown that was behind mankind’s terror of the grave. That same fear also made men afraid to live their lives. The future was also unknown.
“How much blood must be spilled until the masters are finally satisfied?” Christopher asked.
“That I honestly do not know,” said David.
“How much have you spilled, David?”
“More than my fair share, that’s for certain.”
“Well, I suppose that goes without saying.”
“Trust me, my young protégé. You’ll have quite a bit of blood on your hands as well. When the decades turn to centuries this becomes simply inevitable. There is no way to get around it. You and I are killers. Nothing more and nothing less will ever do.”
“I suppose I’ll understand that soon enough.”
“Perhaps sooner than you would like,” said David.
“Humankind cannot bear too much reality.”
“Good quote, Christopher.”
“Do you know who said that?”
“T.S. Eliot said it, of course.”
“Well, I guess that goes without saying, David.”
“Yes.”
Christopher smiled at him and then glanced briefly into the well-lit fireplace. He also looked outside momentarily to watch the snow. Humans couldn’t handle too much reality, as the great writer once said. This was perhaps the reason they were so incredibly vulnerable to the will of things they could not comprehend. He was glad that he had his own immortality in the works, but still felt very fearful. Christopher dreaded what would happen if he displeased the masters. He found that the more time he spent with his mentor, the less he was concerned about his family and others in general.
“You fear your own mortality and every other living thing is a second thought. Am I right, Christopher?”
“Yes.”
“That’s such wonderful news. I’m sorry but it really is. It shows me how great you are going to be. What magnificent, fiendish potential you really have. I mean you really do have what it takes even if you don’t know it yet.”
“I’ve thought a lot about death for my age.”
“That’s very impressive for one so young.”
“I’m glad you’re pleased,” said Christopher.
“It won’t be just me, lad. The masters will be thrilled. I must say when they find someone obsessed with death, they are pleased indeed. The real question is do you understand the fear that others have about dying? If you do and you can put that on paper, the rewards will be great for you.”
“It’s funny. Even though I grew up constantly reading horror novels and watching creature features, I never thought it would pay off in real life.”
“Christopher, it will pay off in ways you still can’t comprehend or imagine!”
“So it pays to be a monster,” said Christopher.
“Indeed!”
“I suppose a good understanding of the h
uman condition is another good bargaining chip with the masters.”
“It is,” David agreed.
“David, I understand more now of what I will be expected to do.”
“Good. I thought that you might.”
“The dreams and nightmares of humankind need to be communicated to the masters because they don’t really comprehend humans.”
“That’s right,” David affirmed.
“Why is that?”
“Why? I suppose because they are immortal creatures who cannot remotely comprehend the fear of death.”
“I see.”
“They hide in the shadows and wait for humans to be vulnerable. The fact that most people would consider it insane to believe in them makes the masters all the more powerful.”
“Yes,” said Christopher. “It wasn’t too long ago that I wouldn’t have believed it for a moment.”
The terrible memory of watching David Proctor, alias Henry Wells, eating a rotting corpse would never leave Christopher. Among the many things worse than death was perhaps the hideous realization that he might be having similar dinning experiences in the future. The idea of a dead loved one being “worm food” was not too disturbing for Christopher. It was unpleasant, but nonetheless, a natural part of life. What was unnatural was what David did in the graveyard. It would have been less disturbing to watch necrophilia.
“I hope that you enjoy these stories,” said Christopher. “You realize they were written before my eyes were opened. They are from the past but still reflect what makes people afraid.”
“Excellent. Reflecting on death is one of my favorite pastimes you know.”
“Then read on, David.”
“I can’t wait,” David grinned.
Chapter 17
The Waiting Ends
By Christopher Wisdom
I, Paul, have been waiting here for the longest time. Long doesn’t accurately describe what I feel. It truly seems like an eternity of waiting. What they did to us is the very definition of evil. We were once normal human beings. At least, we were biologically human. They experimented on us. We were always the outcasts. We were never considered to be worth very much. You might say we were not worth what the taxpayers paid to keep us alive. We were criminals. Then the U.S. government found a good use for us. From their perspective, it was a great use of their money and our worthless lives. I wanted to think that my life mattered for the longest time. I also wanted to believe that my government cared about me. I thought this would be true even if I was just a criminal. When I say ‘care,’ I mean that there would be limits on how much cruelty an outcast should have to endure. The world is fucked up but I didn’t know how fucked up it was.
