The LED died when the phone had died. The room was filled with the pitchest of black. A small red light flashed from what appeared to be the other side of the room. I stood up to investigate the light. As I stood I dropped the phone. I had expected it to make a noise on impact, but it never did. The phone never reached the ground. As soon as it left my hand it was gone. I was free of the cursed object.
I continued over to the flashing small red light. It was almost level with eyes. I touched it. An intense light filled the room. Now I could clearly see the walls, still covered with dry blood, with the exception of the endless forms of “I-Can’t-Let-You-Search-That”. On the other side of the room, a wall had what appeared to be a window, or possibly a mirror.
I approached the object, which was in fact a window. The window had a word written on it in blood. Duality.
On the other side of the window was a room, which was exactly like the one I was being held in. The only difference was a man. He had stepped into view at the exact time I had. He had an odd familiarity about him. I recognized his face, but I could not place a name to it. He greeted me with the devil’s smile.
“Hello”, he said. I tried to spit out an answer, but all the words were caught in my throat.
He stared at me blankly, his eyes were the coldest things, uncaring, unloving, no emotion. He again smiled his devil’s smile, before saying, “I would say cat got your tongue, but yours is dead”.
Was this him? The one that ruined my life?
Yes it was.
I asked him about the phone, how he could manipulate it, how he could return it every time, how he had ruined my life. He laughed. His laugh was colder than his eyes. He told me there was no phone.
“The phone was an object created by your subconscious. It was an excuse. You created the idea of the phone to hide from the fact that you did all of the things you blamed on your phone. It was a scapegoat, you hid from the truth through the form of a common day object. You are a murderer, you are insane. You love it, but you hide from it. The phone died when your humanity did. The only reason you can't remember this is because you had more than one method of escape, you had more than one subconscious suggestion.”
His words were true. It only made sense. How could a phone do so much damage. It’s only a phone. A piece of plastic and some glass.
“You see”, he said,” you created a phone to blame your problems on, then created this fictional character to explain all the awful things you did. Then you created this place, to confront yourself. This is your Wonderland, but I am the ruler. Here I am you. I am the part of you that only comes out at night. I am the voice in your head. I am the reason you killed all those people. I am you, yet in duality.”
Is this possible? Do I have a duality?
I looked into his cold eyes and saw my own. I looked at his devil smile and saw my own smile. I now know where I had seen him before. Every time I viewed myself I saw pathos. This was no window. This was a mirror.
Pathos. Me. Him. I was his Logos. He was my Pathos.
He said his actions were Human. He claimed to be more human than I ever could be. He explained to me how every murder he committed, every crime he was punishable for, was his humanity.
Human? How was he a human? He would never know humanity the way I know it. At least I tried to be human. He took my humanity from me. At that moment I felt it, my pocket began to vibrate. The phone was back.
“I can’t let you read that!”, said Pathos. Anger filling his cold eyes.
I retrieved the phone. I read the message. It said, "The duality of positive and negative becomes subsumed in Oneness. There are no opposites in the totality and absolute perfection of the Oneness that we know as Divine. -Peter Santos" This message was my epiphany.
I looked into the mirror and I saw another persons image, not my own.
I smashed the mirror.
If this is my Wonderland, these are my rules. Pathos can’t be present while I am One.
And like that. Pathos was no more. I killed a killer.
I awoke from the Wonderland. I was still in Medicine Mound. Laying next to a safe which held a very dead cat.
And again I left. I always leave.
So I started to walk, searching for the nearest town. Phone in hand, I left. Not once did I look back.
Whenever I peer into my reflection I see his eyes and his smile, he is still there, just on the surface. Praying that someone will raise him from perdition. But he can’t escape. I have control over him. He is stuck in my Wonderland. He is stuck in my darkest place. He is stuck in my hell.
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