By: C.Seamus Hermoso
(first published 2004, all rights reserved)
“Just because you’re a Magnum, or a Magoose, or well, whatever you are in that cult of yours doesn’t mean you could just change the topic.” Carlos shot back, with a smile.
James’s face fell. It seemed as if he just froze. “Don’t you mention that. Please, Carlos. Please forget about that.”
With that, James hurried away into the throng of students and all Carlos could do was look on, puzzled.
I rested my head on my bed and watched the figures play around the formerly unmarked wall next to me. It was a hobby I have acquired. After all, what more could one do in such a desolate room? I have been free of my straightjacket for some time now, yet I realized that with nothing in this place, I might as well wear it again. Everyday, I seem to grow more lethargic than the last.
The door abruptly opened as a figure, again in white, stepped inside and closed the door hastily. The only person of the opposite sex to have entered my room so far. I couldn’t recognize her. Someone new, perhaps.
“Carlos Decascos, do you remember me?” the woman inquired sluggishly.
I turned to face her. Familiar features, alright. However, nothing and no one came to mind.
“Anyway, it doesn’t matter.” She shrugged. “I am here about James. What has he told you?”
Again, the name sounds familiar, but then again James could be the one who gives me my food here for all I know. “James?”
The lady sat down on my chair. “I understand you found James Florentin’s deceased body in his apartment last Tuesday.”
Oh yeah, that James. I smiled in spite of myself. “He was pretty messed up, such a loathsome sight. The skin on his face was gone. I could have sworn there were maggots in there.”
“So, what were you doing there? What has he told you?” She crossed her arms in front of her chest.
There was a piece of food stuck on her teeth. I laughed heartily.
She stood up and brought out a syringe from her pocket. “What have they been giving you?” She moved closer, turned me over and injected the needle on my back.
I practically screamed after a minute or so of silence, as I was able to behold the figure in front of me. “Ma’am Fugazi! What are you doing here?”
“I know you don’t know anything, Carlos. I will get you out.” She looked at me with such concern, something I haven’t felt in a while.
“What’s there to know?” I sat up, not quite sure what to feel. “Please get me out, please. I am not crazy!”
She sat down on the chair. “They are keeping you in here because they think James divulged to you those he found out about Elus-Cohens.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Who’s they? I haven’t talked to James in ages. Why? What has he discovered?”
“With the access to old archives, he questioned a lot as a Magus. He found articles that dealt with the different entanglements of the Elus-Cohens.” Ma’am Fugazi admitted matter-of-factly.
“So Elus-Cohens’ behind everything?” In my mind, I struggled to sort out all the things she said.
To my surprise, she disagreed. “The Elus-Cohens is just working under the Illuminati. The Illuminati goes way back. They say it was the propagation of the Kabbala teachings of the Jews that induced Hitler to wipe out the race who supposedly knew of the esoteric arts. He wanted to keep the ancient knowledge to himself and those under his authority”
She went on, “They also say Kennedy’s assassination was because of the anti-occult task force that he created. The enforcement kept more eyes open for every movement of the Illuminati.”
“Also, do you notice the pyramid with the eye on top in your one dollar bill? Well, they say that since that went out, the US economy boomed like no other. United States was suddenly feared as nation. You see, that symbol is the Illuminati’s imprint.”
Before I could say anything, she then stood up from the chair. “But hey, these won’t matter now, would they? What’s important is that I am telling you how to get out of here.” Her voice faded slowly as she uttered the last sentence.
“Wait, have they found out who killed him? Why hasn’t the policed asked for my statement yet?”
She stared at me skeptically. “Wow, you really don’t know anything! A death like James’ is one that would never be recorded.”
I just leaned onto the wall, dumbfounded.
“Now listen,” she went on. “Before I tell you anything worse, listen. When you get to the communal room later, run straight ahead to the hallway. At exactly 6pm, the guards at the front door change shifts. Between 6:00 to 6:01, the doors are unguarded.”
With that, my dream girl left as rapidly as she came in.
“Thanks. Until next time!” Carlos grinned as he shut his front door to the pizza deliveryman whom he had been seeing very often in the past month.
He set the pizza down on the table and went back to his personal computer where he was checking his e-mail.
You have one new message.
Well, he thought to himself consolingly, you check e-mail twice a day.
He clicked open the inbox, revealing a new message from a James Florentin.
“Carlos, this is because I trust you. You know what to do.” The message had 5 attachments.
He opened the first one: WWII Conspiracies. Then the second: Kennedy’s Anti-Occult Program. Then he goes on reading onto, The All Knowing Eye And The Dollar, New World Order, and lastly, Disappearance Of Malaysian Prime Minister Rooted To Freemasons.
Leaning back on his ergonomic chair, he read each one passively. Nodding at times, and yawning every so often. He couldn’t quite grasp what each one said, something about whatever power behind everything. Carlos couldn’t have been any more vague.
I am getting out! I am getting out! That’s all I could mumble under by breath as I slowly trudged across the hallway. 6:00, the clock in the public room declared.
When I saw the unprotected front door, I dashed all the way until I was able to shut the door. As I saw the massive green grass, I inhaled the fresh air.
I halted in my tracks. Now what? There’s nothing here. Or so I thought.
I looked around for the nearest gate I could find, and ran towards it. It was black and intricately designed, and looked every bit well-equipped of alarms.
Nonetheless, I approached it, running and never looking back. I seemed to run forever and yet the gate wasn’t becoming any closer. My vision slowly blurred as I lurched over something on the floor, causing me to fall to my knees; moreover, causing a very loud alarm to ring out all-over the field.
I scampered and continued my running, when I felt two pairs of arms grabbing me from behind. I couldn’t see who they were, but their grip was enough for me to almost suffocate. Suffocating me didn’t seem to be enough for them however, as I found myself getting dragged across the grass, my feet gathering mud and every known creature that lurked in it.
It was when they set me down inside a vacant, all black room that I got a better look at them. Wrestlers, that’s what would best describe them.
A part of the wall opened gradually and this all-too-familiar individual went in.
“Mr. Carlos Decascos, nice to see you here.”
I almost stumbled onto the wall behind me. “Where is Ms. Fugazi? Where?”
Mr. Colombia advanced towards my direction. “I’m sorry but we don’t know anyone who goes by that name.”
I scanned the room for any other way out. I would settle for anything, really. Scampering to the opposite end of the room, I closed my eyes and wished everything away. It has worked well before. Conspicuously, it doesn’t now.
“What did you expect to find here, mister? This is a men’s asylum. No trace whatsoever of female blood here.”
My perspiration was seeping through my pores like water on an overflowing dam, while I cowered in the corner. The Colombian drug lord smirked. “Take Mr. Decascos into the east wing. He seems to not belong here.”
I couldn’t distinguish anything anymore as the wrestlers dragged me out of the room. The only thing that struck my eye was that the hands that were holding me in the stomach had one ring on his left thumb, one with a logo, with a face…