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  “I’ve heard great things about you,” the man says, holding out his hand. “The name’s Arthur, Arthur Banks. And this is Patrick Figman, Lewis McBride, and Hubert Newman.”

  Accompanying Song: “Girei” by Yasuharu Takanashi

  They know everything.

  All there is to know about me, they’ve learned.

  I don’t know where, how, or why. But he’s about to explain.

  “You seem surprised that we’ve come for you.”

  “Well, I’m actually rather appalled at the fact that you seem to know every last detail about my life. Did you run a background check on me?”

  He laughs. “Of course we did, but don’t worry about it. It only gave us more reason to pursue you. You are the best of the best, and that is exactly what we need. Someone with a pinch for detail, cleanliness, and above all, punctuation and the ability to keep quiet.”

  I feel like they just dissected me. “Tell me why it is a good thing that you invaded my privacy.”

  “We’re looking for a curator. Someone to watch over and catalog our rather … exclusive collection.”

  I squint. “And you want me to do that?”

  “Yes. You see, your background makes you the perfect curator for the job.”

  “Not interested,” I say, turning my back to them.

  I have to remain strong in the face of evil.

  I don’t need to know them to feel it—the raw, insatiable hunger dripping from their pores. I can feel it with every vein in my body, which pulse with anxiety as I try to repel whatever is persuading me to come join the dark side.

  “Do you not dream of infinite power? Wisdom beyond your current reach?” Arthur says. “We would give you anything your heart desires. More power. More wealth. Anything you want, it is within your reach if you work with us.” I frown, gazing at the books in front of me. I dare not think about the metaphorical bone he just threw in front of me, tempting me like a dog.

  I sigh. As much as I wish to indulge myself in all this world has to offer, being handed it on a platter is simply not enough for me. “My answer is still no.”

  Arthur muffles a laugh. “You seem to be under the impression that declining is an option.”

  I gaze over my shoulder. The foulness in his eyes is hard to ignore. Goosebumps scatter across my skin.

  “Get out,” I say.

  “Agree to curate for us, Sebastian Brand. We do not take anything less.”

  “Did you not hear me? Get out!” I say, turning to him again.

  A belittling smile is on his face. Then he takes a step forward. “Do not think this will help you. There is no choice. We will take everything from you; burn down all that you’ve worked for with one snap of a finger.”

  He snaps his finger right there. I try not to notice, but the sound went through marrow and bone.

  “You will work for us, whether you’re willing or not. It’s just a matter of how much persuasion you will need. Do you love this library, Sebastian? How would you feel if we let someone else be in charge?”

  “What? You can’t do that!” I yell.

  “We can do anything we want,” he muses. “You seem to think you have power now that you own this place, but my boy … don’t you realize … you have no power. You have no clue what it means to have true power … until you join us.”

  He shrugs as I stare at him in disbelief. Then he fishes something from his pocket and holds it out for me to accept. “Call me. The more time it takes you to do so, the more we will take from you. How much are you willing to sacrifice?”

  Accompanying Song: “Yogensha” by Yasuharu Takanashi

  Seven days. That’s all it takes for me to say yes.

  They threatened to destroy everything. My entire life in shambles. All that I have built for myself would be in ruins, and they would make my life a living hell.

  At first, I don’t believe them. I go to the police and explain what happened. Instead of taking notes and filing a report, they show me the door. I go to a different police station, but it doesn’t work either. I go to a law firm, where they tell me that they can’t do anything for me. Higher ups in court ignore my pleas. Nobody listens. Not even a private detective whom I hire for a big wad of cash will put his hands on this case.

  I’m dying to get to the bottom of this. I need to know why they are so adamant about having me curate their business. What it is that requires me specifically? It doesn’t sit right with me. So I go to the authorities, try every route that I can take.

  None if it works.

  They decline me, wherever I go, and it is always at the moment that I mention any of their names.

  Their names … just their names alone hold such great power that no one dares to touch them.

  Whoever they are, they have influence on every figure of authority that I could possibly imagine. Their reach is far and wide, unimaginably powerful. There is only one thing that could cause this: money. The power to change the world.

  These men … they don’t follow rules … they create them.

  Danger doesn’t even begin to describe what has come for me.

  It is then that I realize I have no other choice. If I say yes, they would leave my library alone. They would not have me arrested for false accusations. They would not take from me my degrees, my wealth … my life.

  I can keep my life.

  It is the only choice.

  And so, I say yes.

  I realize it the moment that I speak the word that I have undeniably not only shaped my own fate, but that of a million others as well. I will now work for the men who own the world.

  Infinite riches. Unending power. A bottomless pit of wicked cravings.

  I will soon come to learn how steep the staircase to hell is.

  Accompanying Song: “Yogensha” by Yasuharu Takanashi

  4 years ago

  Their collection is vast and contains most of the world’s biggest and priceless art. Even when it is in a museum, they still own and generate income from it. Anything and everything that they desire is theirs. The Louvre. British Museum. National Gallery. The Smithsonian. Metropolitan Museum of Art. Not just museums, but companies, too. Disney. The Comcast Corporation. Volkswagen. BP. ExxonMobil. Samsung Electronics. Shell. Each of them owns a different branch, but together they have claimed the world.

  This knowledge is exchanged solely between the five of us. Nobody knows.

  Over this past year, details of their lives have slipped from their mouths and into my mind, where I keep them locked away until needed to break them. If that’s even possible.

  Genesis is what they call themselves, and only a few know they actually exist as an entity. Arthur came up with the name because he believed that they had the power to create and destroy whatever they saw fit. Standing next to God. Ridiculous. As if they’d ever be worthy of standing next to Him. Their arrogance is abominable and so are their ideas.

  Most people think world power and money are generally well divided and that they actually have a say in what their country does. It. Is. A. Lie. They are brainwashed into thinking that they have a voice, but in reality, Genesis owns the corporations, the news, all funds, and even all politics.

  How? With money.

  Money makes the world turn. Money eats people and spits them out like garbage, ready for the next load.

  Disgusting. And yet I am now taking part in this, too.

  They trust me now. Little by little, I’ve gained it by always complying with their wishes, obeying their rules, and functioning according to what was expected. Things I excel in and always have since my father demanded it of me.

  They know this. I asked Arthur once, and he told me that he selected me specifically because of my history, including all the details about my past, my present, and my possible future. Nothing was left out of the equation. I am perfect to them, because I live for rules.

  But I soon came to realize that there was another reason for their interest in me.

  One day, they’re s
itting in the Genesis Meeting Room, which is right above my library, and as I’m rearranging the books in the room, Arthur clears his throat.

  “Sebastian, I’ve been meaning to ask you, but I would like you to select a few specific books for us.”

  I turn around, puzzled by his request. “What for?”

  “We’re bored,” Hubert says, yawning.

  “Well, we’ve come up with a way to make our lives more interesting,” Lewis says.

  “What they mean is that we would like to start reenacting scenes from the books we read,” Arthur states.

  In confusion, I gaze at Arthur with furrowed brows. It’s true that they’ve been reading a lot of books lately, but I never imagined that they’d be doing it for this reason. I always thought their interest in books was strange. Now I understand why. They have everything they want in this world, and now they are bored with it. For them, excitement comes in the form of perversion.

  “Will you select some books for us?” Arthur asks.

  Swallowing, I nod. Even if I wanted to say no, I couldn’t.

  I value my life more than I value my honor.

  But I also know that they won’t stick to the regular plotted books. Oh no … I can see it in Hubert’s depraved smile and the glint in his eyes. Just the thought of being able to pick any idea and act it out is sparking something in him. Something diabolical.

  “Great. Let’s get started then, shall we?” Arthur says.

  “You know, we should have some sort of slogan. Something that will make it even more exciting,” Hubert hums in amusement. “Oh, I know! How about that we must finish a book and reenact the scenes at any cost?”

  “Sounds good,” Arthur says.

  “Any book?” I ask.

  “All books. No exception.”

  I cringe. “Even if it talks about sex or murder?”

  The way his eyes narrow and his lips contort into a twisted smile makes my stomach churn. “Everything.”

  Accompanying song: “The Dog is Black” by Unkle (dial:molotov remix)

  Providence, Rhode Island – June 3nd, 2013, early morning

  I stare at him in disbelief. “This has to be some sort of cruel joke, right?”

  “I wish it was,” Sebastian says.

  “They read books and then act out the story?”

  “Yes,” he says, sighing.

  I make a face. “Like … anything?”

  “Everything that’s inside …”

  “Even if…”

  “Everything.”

  Holy shit. I blink a couple of times and then let out a huge breath. It’s a large pill to swallow.

  “Now you know,” he says.

  I nod, unable to reply. I wouldn’t know what to say. This all comes as a shock, and yet, I can now connect the dots. The book that I found on his desk must be exactly that, something that he has to act out. And that day in the library where he was jerking himself off … holy shit.

  “I know this comes as a shock to you, and that is why I didn’t tell you.”

  “No kidding,” I say. “Jesus.”

  “Which is why you can’t tell a soul.”

  “What? You expect me to keep this quiet?”

  “Yes!” he says, grabbing my hand. “They could kill us for this.”

  “As if you have anything to be afraid of, you’re a part of their club!”

  “Not by choice.” He lets go of me, puts his fingers to his forehead, and sighs. He rubs them, avoiding eye contact. “I did what I had to do to survive.”

  “So all that in the train … with Ashley and … my mother.”

  “Yes. It’s all because of those damned fucking books.” He averts his eyes.

  “I suppose burning all of the books won’t help.”

  He chuckles. “No. The books are keeping them in check, sort of. At least, I used to be able to control the books they receive, but lately … it’s gotten out of control.”

  “No shit.”

  “You think that I want this?” He turns his gaze back to me. “I have been trying for years to stop this. These books keep them busy. If I took that from them, who knows what they’d do instead. They are powerful. So powerful, you can’t even begin to imagine. When powerful people get bored, they do stupid things. Money numbs your heart, makes you unappreciative of the things you have. Being numb makes the world unexciting. You seek pleasure in other ways. Adrenaline shots are what they’re after.”

  “And, of course, bungee jumping won’t suffice for men like them.”

  He laughs at my joke. “No.”

  I don’t know why I’m glad that he’s smiling. I should be pissed off at him, but at the same time, I kind of feel bad for him. His past … it’s so sad. Now I understand why he acts the way that he does, why he’s so adamant on being clean all the time, why he hates not being on time, and why he loves rules. His father ruined him. Sebastian must feel guilty all the time, not to mention that he didn’t get any love when growing up. I wonder if this is why he is the way that he is. None of it is okay. I feel sorry for the man who hurt me. It’s so goddamn wrong, and yet, I can’t help feeling this way.

  He hunted me down like I was some kind of prey. How could I feel sorry for a man who does that?

  I shake, literally, trying to rid myself of the feeling.

  “I did everything to keep them away from you,” he says softly. “I wanted you to be safe.”

  “Me? Why me?”

  “Because I …” He sighs. It’s quiet for a second. “I need you.” The words come out like he finds them difficult to pronounce.

  “Don’t talk to me about need,” I snap.

  “I never wanted to kill you. I would, if I had to, but I didn’t want to.”

  “No? But you did want to hurt me.”

  “I wanted to do anything, anything, to keep you from them. I still do and trust me when I say that if I have to, I will do it again.” He lets out a big breath. “You are mine now, and I intend to keep it that way.”

  “So you think I’m better off with you than with them?”

  “Oh, yes.”

  I shake my head. “You’re just as evil.”

  “I know. I’m a motherfucking monster.”

  “Yes.” I squeeze my own hands, keeping them to myself rather than slapping him like I want to. But Jesus, how badly I want to slap the shit out of him right now …

  It’s quiet again. Neither of us knows what to say, I guess. I’m afraid that whatever I ask him might upset him so much that he’ll want to shoot me. Who knows? I don’t know; that’s for sure.

  He clears his throat. “There was nothing I could do to stop them. The moment they set their eyes on you and your friend, it was already happening. I couldn’t stop it. I could never stop them.”

  Frowning, I gaze out of the window. “For some reason, Ashley, my mother, and I sparked their enthusiasm…”

  Suddenly I feel his warm hand wrap around my leg. It’s not scary anymore. At least, it doesn’t feel like before. This feels … genuine, careful.

  “I will not lie about the things that I’ve done. I am an awful man. I participated in all of the things they did, knowing the damage it would cause. I don’t condone any of our actions.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  “Sometimes …” I spot a hint of denial.

  “And other times?”

  “When it first began, I didn’t think that I could do it. Turns out, I’m capable of much worse than I could ever imagine.” He gazes at me, the look on his face darkening and his eyes hollow with pain. “I frighten myself at times.”

  “I see…”

  He squeezes my leg. “We’ll continue this some other time.”

  The car stops and I’m left in the middle of a conversation that I didn’t think I would be having.

  “I know you have more questions, but they’ll have to wait.”

  He grabs the shotgun in the back, reminding me of how he was hunting me only a few minutes ago. “But …”

  “I’m no
t going to talk about it.” His voice is rugged, unbending, as if he suddenly feels like he said too much.

  “So, what now?”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me out of the car with him. “They won’t stop looking for you until you’re back in the institution where, according to them, you belong.”

  “And according to you?” I ask as he drags me along the sidewalk and back into his apartment building.

  He glances at me over his shoulder, a wicked grin spreading on his face. “I know that you belong only to me.”

  There is no leash keeping me close, and yet, I let him take me away. I don’t know what compels me to go with him. Maybe it’s the shotgun still looming underneath his coat. Or maybe it’s the promise of a better future now that I know why?

  Regardless, I’m whisked away again into the building that he calls home. I wonder if this time I’ll ever come out again. This thought jerks my mind back into action and out of the shocked state that I was in.

  I pull my hand away. “Hold on, where are we going?”

  “Somewhere.”

  “No. I want to know. I don’t trust you anymore. Not after what you did …”

  I frown, putting an emphasis on my anger. I feel like I was just thrown in a well and I’m slowly climbing up again. Daylight is in sight, all I have to do is grasp for freedom. Grasp for whatever tiny sliver of humanity he’s willing to give me.

  “You don’t have a choice,” he says calmly then glances down at his shotgun hidden inside his coat.

  After all of this, he’s still threatening me with pain.

  “I knew it,” I say. “You’re still intent on hurting me.”

  “Not in the way you think.” He holds out his hand. “Come with me.”

  “No.” I lean away from him. “Why would I ever want to go with you? What in the world would I gain? I’ve already lost my freedom, my family, and my best friend. What more can I lose?”

  “Your life.”

  “Are you telling me that you would kill me if I didn’t listen?”