Through Phantom Eyes: Volume Four

In the total darkness of the fourth cellar, I was about to enter into one of my passageways when, unexpectedly, a match was lit. I automatically let loose a lasso toward the light. I only saw a figure jump, as the match fell to the floor and extinguished. Quickly setting my lantern at my feet, I was on the figure and behind him with my hands added to the coil around his neck. His hands grasped at my fingers and then left their fruitless effort to light another match. Then, with the light, I recognized the hands—they were Oded’s. I instantly released my hands and then the coil from his throat just as he slumped to his knees. Moving toward my lantern, I lit it and set it on a stack of lumber. While silently watching him stagger to his feet, I coiled my lasso. Rubbing his throat, he exclaimed with shock and excitement, “Erik! You’re alive! When I read in the paper that a man matching your description had been seen battling the aftermath of the bomb that hit this place, I feared you were hurt—or killed. May Allah be praised. You’re alive.” “And, fortunately, so are you, you foolish man,” I rebuked. “This is neither the time nor the place to be wandering around in the darkness. You could get hurt—or killed.” He came toward me. “That would be a small price to pay to find you. I honestly feared you were dead, Erik. Where have you been?” I glared at him and shook my head in disbelief. “I thought my actions would have severed our friendship for sure. Why would you look for me after our last encounter? Why do you still care what happens to me?” I couldn’t answer those questions, but it looked as if he was going to, as he took another step closer to me. “Erik, you look awful. What have you been doing to yourself? Have you been ill? Why didn’t you come to me? You are much too thin.” Without giving him the consideration he’d shown me, I snarled, “All monsters are thin and gruesome and lurk alone in the darkness. You should recognize that trait in me by now.” He took my lantern and held it up toward my face and then frowned at me. When he did, I could see his eyes and nose were red, and it wasn’t from the cold or the fact that I’d almost strangled him. He’d been crying, and, for the first time in many months, I felt something other than hatred stirring in my heart. “Erik,” he responded, with the concerned voice I was so familiar with. “What has happened to you? Talk to me, please.” I shook my head. “There are no more words to speak between us, Oded—none.” Desperately, he tried again. “You have to talk to me. I’ve been searching everywhere for you. My last resort was to wait here in the darkness and hope you showed up.” I felt my brow wrinkle as I walked around a stack of lumber. Then, trying to understand his actions, I leaned forward, placed my knuckles on the wood, and cautioned him in all sincerity. “Oded, I thought your many years as a daroga would have made you a wise man. It’s suicidal to sit in the darkness all alone when you know that insanity could be lurking nearby. Go home while you still can.” I shook my head again. “You stupid fool.” “Erik, what has happened to you? What have I done to you that justifies this treatment? Have I not proven to you over the years that you can trust me and that I consider you my best friend?” I couldn’t look upon his pleading expression any longer, so, lowering my eyes to the lumber under my hands, I spoke harshly. “You were a friend of Erik, but he no longer exists. You must forget him. He was only a childhood playmate—nothing more. Childhood playmates grow up and are forgotten, and you must forget me now that we’re grown.” I glanced up at him and then finished my thought. “Just as a child when he’s grown forgets the monsters that resided in his closet, you must forget me. Let me be nothing more to you than a distant, frightening memory, deserving nothing more than to be forgotten. No longer call me Erik—call me the monster that once inhabited your closet. Forget me.” “Erik, please. Don’t do this again. Don’t isolate yourself. Remember the day we left Persia? You felt the same then, and yet look at all we’ve done together since then.” Once more I shook my head. “You’ll never get it, Oded. You’ll never understand. You are better off without me. You always were, but you’re just too stubborn to see it. Look around you. What do you see? A halfway completed building that has received the curse of Erik. Everything I touch is destroyed in some way, and you’ve seen enough of it to believe me, if you’ll only take the blinders off your eyes and look.” He frowned even more as he set my lantern down and then took a few moments to look around us. “Are you saying you believe all of this is your fault? Do you honestly believe you have that much control over the affairs of world governments?” “I did in Persia—remember?” I snapped. Sighing and raising his hands to his side, he tried one more time. “Erik, don’t be foolish. This was done by political rulers, not you. You don’t even know them or they you. How can you possibly believe this is your fault?” “Because I’ve seen it my entire life, Oded, that’s why. Nothing I touch has ever come to a good end—nothing.” Preparing to turn my lantern off and disappear into the darkness, I reached for it. But I think he knew what I was about to do, so he quickly grabbed his lantern and lit it, without missing a beat in our familiar debate. “Erik, don’t be absurd.” Angered, I shouted at him, “Then name me one thing that has had a good end that I’ve touched. Name just one.” “Lapierre’s family,” he responded with frustration in his voice. “Look how you helped them.” Walking slowly toward the stairs, I turned out my lantern and rebutted, “And where is his family now? His three sons are gone somewhere and probably dead. One of their daughters is gone and they don’t know where. Do you consider that a happy ending? If you do, then you’re sick.” Not letting me get more than a few paces from him, he continued, “Erik, listen to yourself. You weren’t responsible for the war that took them away. You give yourself far too much credit for having unspeakable power if you really believe that. And what about the other families you built for? Nothing bad has happened to them.” I stopped and lowered my head. “That was nothing more than a fluke.” Then I looked back at him. “And it isn’t over yet. Somehow, fate will remember they knew me and return—just watch.” “Erik, this is insane!” One hand was reaching out for me and his face showed his frustration, as a cold gust of wind rushed past us and we both shivered at the same time. “Erik, please come to my home with me and let us talk where it’s warm.” I narrowed my eyes, looked coldly into his, and shook my head. In his true daroga form, he pleaded once more, “Then let’s go to your home. You need to get out of this cold and damp building.” Turning again from him and continuing my path to the stairs, I answered, “I value your life too much to ever let anyone see us in the same company again. Now, please, go and leave me alone.” He was silent for a moment as he followed me, and then he said softly, “Erik, this is all wrong. You can’t do this to yourself—not again. Don’t isolate yourself, please. It’s not good for you.” I stopped abruptly, turned, and looked at him. Then, with a soft and reflective tone, I responded, “It’s not good for others if I don’t.” “Erik,” he huffed in frustration, “you’re truly exasperating. Can you at least tell me where you’re staying so I can find you?” I shook my head and looked deep into his familiar jade eyes. I wanted to tell him he could always find me right there where I stood—but I couldn’t—I just couldn’t. He was again silent while he scowled at me and rubbed his chin. Then he asked, “Erik, what are you doing here anyway?”