I Am A Dangerous Man

“I am a dangerous man.” 

I sometimes think that to myself as I walk down the street. If the people around me could hear my thoughts they would walk around me. Be more careful to make sure that their cuffs don’t brush against me. 
The truth is a virus, and I am contagious. 


I see them caught up in watching the wheel spin, hypnotized by the motion and failing to wonder what makes it move in the first place. It is enough for them that it spins today, just like it spun yesterday, and just like it will spin tomorrow. 


I envy them that existence… and everyday I hate them for the blinders they wear while I look for some mystical retail outlet where I might get a pair of my own.   If I could I would cut one of them open and take out the piece of their brains that turns the things they see into every day happenstance. I would shove it into my mind and then I could be like them, pretending that science and psychology explains away the mysteries of the universe. 


I thought about trying once, and then I began to wonder if that is how it starts. If that is the line that takes you from being a person to a monster. 
I am neither right now, and while being a person is an attractive prospect it is possible that the path to that elusive quality of humanity is actually the throat of evil. That it would swallow me, and out the other side would come the kind of creature that I saw tonight, the kind of creature that I see every night. 


If you open your eyes you can see all sorts of things. If you accept them, well they lead to other things, a progression of images that moves into the neighborhood of your mind and begins to reproduce. 
The mind is not a rent controlled neighborhood and the price only increases as the months and days go by.   I watched a vampire stalk a victim and claim their life force as his own. He was called a “disturbed individual” and institutionalized for awhile. I have watched a werewolf reinvent themselves by sliding into another skin and recreating their entire life. They were called an “inspiration” by those around them. 
How do you put on another skin and wear it until it fits? And as humanity learns the trick of the loup garou are we all becoming creatures of the night? 


Perhaps we always have been. 


I posted an ad in the paper to see what would jump on the hook. 
An English literal translation of an ancient text that according to Pythagoras contained the secrets of the universe. Lots of responses to the rented PO box, but when I set the meet and showed up to see what I had caught I saw shells of people looking around for the answers with their eyes closed.  What I did not expect was that the vampires came as well. Knowing the words when they saw them, they came to see what mortal would have the audacity to call them out. A couple of the people who answered the ad became late night snacks. I felt a little bad about that, but really how bad could I feel? 


The creatures that “picked them up” were obviously not human. I could see it, and if they knew enough to respond to the esoteric advertisement, then how could they be so ignorant of what they were seeing? 
I believe that they were there looking for proof, and refused to accept what their hearts and their minds were telling them until it was too late. 


Like I said, I am a dangerous man. 


I saw the shape changer take the life of a man and remove his Cartier watch in an alley before he ate his face off. I learned then that the rich and eccentric must also read the paper. Who knew? 
Not all of them wanted to come to the appointed place and get on the hook. One tried to get me onto his. I admired his tactics. After some careful research I learned that he thought I was one of these creatures and he wanted to have me swallow him, so that he could in turn regurgitate the myth. Immortality for the rich man, death for the poor. 


As far as I can tell the only thing immortal about the vampire is the myth that surrounds them. But I am still watching and still learning. Still trying to figure out what I want to do. 
“There are more creatures in heaven and earth than your dreams can contain Horatio.” I say to myself as I walk off into the night, away from the coffee shop, away from its buzzing fluorescent lights and the illusion of their safety. 


What I have seen can eat you in the market square at high noon. But they can not hurt you unless you want them to. 
And where is the balance? For every demon there is an angel, right? Are the angels the ones that I dismiss? The ones who just walk the narrow bridge of existence everyday looking neither right nor left? The ones who just accept the spinning of the wheel and never wonder about the why? 


Knowledge perhaps was the true snake in the garden after all.   Before I choose a path I want to see what else the Universe has to offer me.   I am currently accepting bids. Look for the ad in the paper today. You will know it when you see it, as I will know you. 

 

Dangerous Man 3

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