“Hello, Black Jack.”
Huh? I closed my eyes for five hot seconds and now there is a presence across my computer desk where the monitor (and behind it, the wall) should be.
“Malphas?” No one else calls me that but him… or an imposter. “Prove it.”, I demanded.
I saw the expected gestures but they did not bring about the expected response. “Your heart is harder, Black Jack. I will need to reach deeper.”
From the very beginning, I doubted if what I called ‘Malphas’ was really Malphas. Things I have learned since that first act of malfeasance have erected walls of doubt. Is Malphas really an entity? Or a collection of wishful thinking made manifest enough for me to interact with.
Arbitrary symbolism is arbitrary as hell, and as widespread as the notion of goetic demons are, am I encountering a broken clock at the rare moment of relevance? He displayed all his clues before I consciously looked them up. However there is a lot of shitte I have unconsciously absorbed.
The adventures have been consistent, as have been the benefits of a working relationship, no matter how unorthodox (snerk) or unsanctioned it has been.
But doubt is a bitch, and the failure of the one claiming to be Malphas to reproduce a response which has never failed before is adding to it.
“Bullshit. If you are Malphas, then you don’t need to reach at all. Or rather, if you are the one that wears the mask I call Malphas.”
Long fingers folded over each other as he clasped his hands in strange patience. “Yes. Well. Absence does not make the heart fonder, it makes the mind forgetful. But your caution remains sharp as ever, and I will acknowledge that. I have work for you, dear Black Jack. We shall speak of it later.”
I blinked, and returned to my room. I was not afraid. I was not concerned. I was curious. I was annoyed. Things are not how I had been led to believe, and I want the god damn truth of it.
Absence makes the heart grow fonder and the mind forgetful. Forgetful of what, though? Belief? Or fear? I accepted what I had been shown before because of ignorance. But now I know a little more and I will not swallow the same lies as before.
Who are you, really, dear “Malphas”? And why are you using this mask that is losing its polish?