Spade, the Hermit
As Callahan Reise was already approaching the door's knob, something caught his attention: a squeaky sound, reminiscent of a low-quality recorded song, started playing inside the maid's house.
Callahan Reise quickly fell back, raising his arm in front of himself, as if he were protecting his face from something. He was trying to keep his cool demeanor as long as possible and not to commit any mistake, as it was his last chance to accomplish his hard-earned objective.
"It must be her ringtone."
Weeks of research and countless nights without sleep, all boiling down to those very minutes. As if he were to make any mistake, he would be discovered and then only chance could determine his punishment.
Callahan Reise knew almost any aspect of the woman's routine, and he was certain he could not fail; after all, he only failed once, but still managed to get it right at his second try.
The call lasted for about half a minute. The man, or should I say the Devil, outside the door, returned to his usual composure, as the kind woman put back the now idle phone on the table, next to a newspaper. As she approached that day's newspaper for her husband, marked November 16, 1998, a series of three loud knocks could be heard, coming from the door.
"Hello, miss Gracen. I'm the one who the boss talked about, Callahan Reise." Said the Fiend.
Marque Gracen approached the door.
"What a surprise! The boss talked me a lot about you. I'm pleased to meet ya." Marque opened the door.
The shining brown eyes of Callahan Reise promptly breached into the woman's soul as if it were now his property. Reise displayed a toothy smile, as bright as it could be. His unusual height and his elegant tie were in fact suggestive - But not be fooled. This man disguised himself this way in order to go straight to his objective undisturbed.
"Please enter - what are you doing standing still over there?" The woman laughed.
Marque was far from being attracted to him, but she was sincerely impressed by the amount of effort the man took trying to look his best; he was described this way even by the boss himself.
To put it bluntly, Reise wasn't beautiful. One could certainly say "good-looking", but nothing more.
Marque wasn't, either. Her wavy, maroon hair was the nicest thing about her body. She was normal in height, and had blue eyes. She was a confident woman in her early 30s (exactly like Reise). Marque missed her "great days" when she was younger and thus had way less responsibilities to worry about.
"What a beautiful day we have today." Reise smiled, entering Marque's house.
"No need to say such no sense, Mr. Reise - business is business, but I prefer more direct conversations!" Marque said, joyfully.
"Oh, I understand. Miss Gracen, here's your report. You forgot it on your office's counter. The boss saw it, and as I needed to drive this way in order to reach my house, he asked me if I could bring it back to you." Reise said.
Marque reached out for the documents, so Reise gave them to her. The woman suddenly noticed something odd about the man's hand; she could simply not tell what was wrong with that, but she had a strange sensation watching it - it seemed so out of place on a person like him. That hand was everything Marque was paying her attention to for about a second; then her eyes rapidly went back and forth between Reise's face and his hand. She grabbed the documents folder and put it on the table with two swift steps, returning in front of the guest.
She was right. But she didn't know - or didn't want to believe.
"So that's everything, I could say."
"If you say so! Sorry for being unkind, but I have a lot of things to do now, but we can arrange for a coffee!" Replied Marque.
"No problem. Thank you, we'll see each other tomorrow."
Reise turned back, and after a look around the house, he started going through the door.
"See you tomorrow, then. It was a pleasure to meet you." Cheered Marque, after Reise left her property.
Callahan Reise got through the street, where his car has been parked a few minutes before. He quickly started his journey home, thinking about his day, which was as tranquil and textureless as the rest of his life. One could say it is boring, but this was everything Reise ever wanted.
"Tomorrow is the big day. It will finally be the right time. My abhorrent lust will ultimately wear off; God, why did you do this to me? Was it destiny? Does my desire even bear any meaning?"
Reise asked himself, lying on his comfortable armchair. He stared at the fire of the fireplace, sunk deep into contrasting thoughts.
"What if everybody is gifted with such a defining, hidden trait, but most people decide to keep it away from their life? Then, apparently just a handful people eventually reach the balance between what society expects from them and their inner desires. What I want in life is just that: make those things co-exist, reaching the balance. Without balance, desire is boundless lust. On the other hand, the absence of desire renders the world just a shade of brown."
This was Reise's philosophy.
"I feel the need - the same need that still keeps me alive - to kill."
"Through the act of killing, I rob people of
their loved ones. But that's necessary, I need to feel that dominance in order to stay sane; without it I could even end up committing suicide."
In fact, Callahan Reise suffered from a particular condition. Though unknown to him and anyone else, it existed nonetheless. Reise needed to kill every once in a while to prevent his mind from losing control over his mood; if he were to neglect his need, he would experience a severe change of mood. Once he risked his own life through abstinence of murder. He was in such a depressive mood that he could only think about two things: suicide or murder.
"Killing myself will make mankind a favor." He once thought. Now his mindset has changed.
His mind was stuck on her for days. Reise's disgusting desire emerged the very first moment he rested his eyes upon her. He didn't crave her flesh, but her soul. He wanted to see her eyes become full of submission and fear. The thing he most wanted was to dry a person's confidence and show them their own weakness through sheer terror and desperation.
Callahan Reise did think what he did was for his victims' own good. All humans are weak. One must acknowledge their fear and learn to use it at their own advantage. It is the nature of fear, after all. Those who survive awaken, those who do not don't spread their weakness.
But Reise's real motivation was entirely different from senseless justifications about human potential and the so-called "weakness".
