Read Online House of Cabal Volume One: Eden by Wesley McCraw - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Wesley McCraw
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this.”
“Are we alone?”
“Not in this house.”
Chuck smoothed his tie against his belly,
irritated by the mysterious answer. “Would you like me to start the
tape now?”
"Not just yet." Grimes snapped his
fingers.
Chuck’s world went black for what seemed like
only a moment. Maybe the lights had flickered.
"Mr. Grimes…"
The crook of Chuck’s arm stung, and he rolled
up his sleeve to see if a bug had bit him. The pain dissipated and
there was a dry speck of blood at a prominent vein, as if someone
had drawn his blood. He scraped off the speck and found that there
wasn’t a puncture wound underneath like he expected.
"Trust me. You'll get what you need and more.
Your readers, they need to know what I thought fifteen years ago,
not what I think now, not what I tell myself. Too much consistency
bias."
"You know about consistency bias?"
"I’m sure you’ve encountered it in your
work.”
“Yes. The mind has a natural tendency to edit
memory so that our identity seems consistent over time. Unless we
monitor the change, we tend to believe we have always held the same
opinions and beliefs as we do now. It was a problem in my first
book. I said as much in an interview. Being so honest only caused
me grief. People don’t want to know how much fiction we take as
fact.”
“To maintain the reliability of the self, we
lie to ourselves.”
“If we realized how much our identity changed
from one moment to the next, we couldn’t function. So what are you
saying? You have journals I can see or something?"
“You’re funny. You still think this is just
another interview. I would like you to listen to my voice. It has a
certain symphonious quality I think you’ll recognize.”
Chuck wasn’t sure what Grimes was getting
at.
“Time to cross the first threshold. Let my
voice take you back, back to the night everything changed.”
Grimes’s hand hovered above the table, as if floating
underwater.
Déjà vu struck hard, a sort of gut punch that
stole Chuck’s breath. A hand had moved like that before: the
hypnotist’s hand at Chuck’s birthday party.
His whole world was now the graceful hand
that danced like a cobra in front of his face.
Words traveled down a long tunnel; “I’m
ready.” The words had come out of Chuck’s mouth.
In the back of his mind, he knew he was being
rehypnotized. He could stop any time, but he wanted to see what was
behind the next bend and so instead, gave himself over
completely.
“We go back in time and into my head. Your
body weighs nothing. Your soul weighs nothing, and as you are
pulled back through yesterday, back through last week, through last
month, last year, time dissolves. Breathe. Slow. In. Out. Good. Now
let yourself float downward, ever downward toward a gray pool far
below. That pool is Everett—his memory and soul—and it grows bright
as you drift down toward it. Let it envelop you like warm water.
You could wait here in this tranquility forever. When I snap my
fingers, I will join you at the end of three, two, one.”
Grimes snapped his fingers, and both he and
Chuck fell into a deep state of hypnosis, forming two-thirds of the
Trinity Link.
Chapter 5
Cassette Tape One:
Dark Stormy Night
You look down at yourself. There is no self
to look down at, just gray void. The void is above and below. It is
everywhere and everything. An existential dread takes over your
awareness and a heaviness forms in your chest.
Something alien lives out in the abyss.
You want to turn way, to protect yourself
somehow. You feel its eyes on you, like the eyes of God are judging
you at the end of time.
Relax, Chuck. The end of the world will wait.
Y2K was proof of that.
The gray is steam. A form emerges from the
steam, not some malevolent being, just my athletic male form,
sitting on a bench, a towel wrapped at the waist. It is me sitting
here after a workout.
Listen to the water spray.
That sound is from the showers of a locker
room. Lockers
“Are we alone?”
“Not in this house.”
Chuck smoothed his tie against his belly,
irritated by the mysterious answer. “Would you like me to start the
tape now?”
"Not just yet." Grimes snapped his
fingers.
Chuck’s world went black for what seemed like
only a moment. Maybe the lights had flickered.
"Mr. Grimes…"
The crook of Chuck’s arm stung, and he rolled
up his sleeve to see if a bug had bit him. The pain dissipated and
there was a dry speck of blood at a prominent vein, as if someone
had drawn his blood. He scraped off the speck and found that there
wasn’t a puncture wound underneath like he expected.
"Trust me. You'll get what you need and more.
Your readers, they need to know what I thought fifteen years ago,
not what I think now, not what I tell myself. Too much consistency
bias."
"You know about consistency bias?"
"I’m sure you’ve encountered it in your
work.”
“Yes. The mind has a natural tendency to edit
memory so that our identity seems consistent over time. Unless we
monitor the change, we tend to believe we have always held the same
opinions and beliefs as we do now. It was a problem in my first
book. I said as much in an interview. Being so honest only caused
me grief. People don’t want to know how much fiction we take as
fact.”
“To maintain the reliability of the self, we
lie to ourselves.”
“If we realized how much our identity changed
from one moment to the next, we couldn’t function. So what are you
saying? You have journals I can see or something?"
“You’re funny. You still think this is just
another interview. I would like you to listen to my voice. It has a
certain symphonious quality I think you’ll recognize.”
Chuck wasn’t sure what Grimes was getting
at.
“Time to cross the first threshold. Let my
voice take you back, back to the night everything changed.”
Grimes’s hand hovered above the table, as if floating
underwater.
Déjà vu struck hard, a sort of gut punch that
stole Chuck’s breath. A hand had moved like that before: the
hypnotist’s hand at Chuck’s birthday party.
His whole world was now the graceful hand
that danced like a cobra in front of his face.
Words traveled down a long tunnel; “I’m
ready.” The words had come out of Chuck’s mouth.
In the back of his mind, he knew he was being
rehypnotized. He could stop any time, but he wanted to see what was
behind the next bend and so instead, gave himself over
completely.
“We go back in time and into my head. Your
body weighs nothing. Your soul weighs nothing, and as you are
pulled back through yesterday, back through last week, through last
month, last year, time dissolves. Breathe. Slow. In. Out. Good. Now
let yourself float downward, ever downward toward a gray pool far
below. That pool is Everett—his memory and soul—and it grows bright
as you drift down toward it. Let it envelop you like warm water.
You could wait here in this tranquility forever. When I snap my
fingers, I will join you at the end of three, two, one.”
Grimes snapped his fingers, and both he and
Chuck fell into a deep state of hypnosis, forming two-thirds of the
Trinity Link.
Chapter 5
Cassette Tape One:
Dark Stormy Night
You look down at yourself. There is no self
to look down at, just gray void. The void is above and below. It is
everywhere and everything. An existential dread takes over your
awareness and a heaviness forms in your chest.
Something alien lives out in the abyss.
You want to turn way, to protect yourself
somehow. You feel its eyes on you, like the eyes of God are judging
you at the end of time.
Relax, Chuck. The end of the world will wait.
Y2K was proof of that.
The gray is steam. A form emerges from the
steam, not some malevolent being, just my athletic male form,
sitting on a bench, a towel wrapped at the waist. It is me sitting
here after a workout.
Listen to the water spray.
That sound is from the showers of a locker
room. Lockers
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