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The way we perceive each other is a mystery that we will never be able to solve, but one thing is sure, we are always partially unknown to everybody, and the way we think of one another is always flawed.
We don’t even have the words to describe effectively what we ourselves are, we can spend our whole existence just scrambling with adjective after adjective until we have used and negated every single one of them, and still we will know we haven’t properly communicated what it feels like to be us.
If that is true of self understanding, it’s exponentially true of understanding others.
It’s not a big tragedy really, we can understand each other enough to live in society safely and effectively, to love and hate justly, for the most part. We choose our friends, lovers, acquaintances and enemies based on our perception of them, and, for the most part, we don’t regret our choices.
For the most part.
Sometimes we fail, and sometimes we will always fail. Sometimes the image we have of someone explodes in a million pieces in front of us and the splinters of it dig in our face, leaving permanent marks.
You never know when it will happen, and there is no way to prevent it. Tomorrow you could find out your father is a serial rapist, tomorrow your mother could lose her temper and slap your little brother in front of you, tomorrow your closest friend could commit suicide.
“I never could have imagined it” you would say, teary eyed, at the wake.
Edwin and Charles had known each other for 30 years, and in those 30 years had lived in nearly complete simbiosys. They could recognise each other by the sound of their footsteps, they knew every childhood anecdote the other remembered well enough to share, they sometimes had full conversations in front of other people without having to utter a single word.
And still, some parts of one another were completely misunderstood by them.
One thing they shared was an open and kind disposition, despite Edwin’s best efforts to hide his own. The kind of disposition that made them subconsciously see the best possible traits in the ones they loved, and made them a bit blind to each other’s flaws. (Or to what human morality would consider flaws, a more objective observer may describe these traits as the tendencies intrinsic to one of them that contradicted the behavioural standards of the other.)
Another thing they shared, an unfortunate trail of their deaths at a young age, was a difficulty in understanding their own feelings when they related to love and attraction. Especially sexual attraction.
Nobody had taught them to recognise their feelings, nobody had encouraged them to think of them, and nobody had told them how to deal with them. That had left them crippled in front of their own desires, their desire for each other in particular.
This blindness however was the weakest link of the net of their affection, the dark parts they each didn’t see in the other were the unguarded frontier from which an attack would have struck blood on the first try. Their unexplored desires where the unmanned front where the attack could sweep through unopposed.
Were these areas of darkness wide enough to hide monsters? Were they spacious enough to warrant the growth of cancers of the psyche that could one day spring up and draw blood?
Nobody can answer for sure a question like that one, not even a mind reader, not even an immortal.
That is, not without a test.
Ghosts had started to come to the agency with similar symptoms lately. They suddenly found themselves in unfamiliar surroundings, with no memory of how they had gotten there. They discovered that they had a couple of days of complete amnesia, and bruises were inexplicably found on their wrists and necks. (One of the ghosts had confessed the bruises on the neck went down into the chest, and were clearly not made with fingers or hands).
After the third ghost they had decided in complete agreement to give this case priority, as it transcended individual need and potentially endangered the whole ghost population.
Connecting the phenomenon with the Millennium Bridge hadn’t been hard at all, it was the only location that appeared in the movements of all the ghosts in the last moments before the memory loss.
“I am not keen on listening to illogical impulses, but I must admit I have a bad presentiment regarding this” Edwin had said as they discussed in the office.
“It does feel a bit too easy, innit?” Charles had responded, shoulder deep in his backpack “If this thing can erase memories why not erase its prime hunting spot?”
“It could be a non conscious phenomenon, like a time distortion, or a ghost eating fungus, although the marks it leaves seem… excessively human” Said Edwin with a blush.
“Do you reckon it could be a trap?”
“Possibly, but aside from being prepared for all sorts of attacks I can’t think of any way to avoid the risk of falling in said hypothetical trap. The need to investigate the bridge can’t be delayed”
“You say well prepared and well prepared we shall be” Charles said with a mischievous smile “I have about everything short of an hydrogen bomb in the backpack, and do you want to try and guess the number of knives stashed around in my clothes?” He went close to Edwin and put his arms out as if to invite his friend to stop and search him.
Edwin scoffed “I trust it is high enough”
“You sure you don’t want to get a feel around anyway?” Charles started to move his shoulders up and down as he got closer to Edwin in a pantomime of seductiveness.
“I’ll pass on that, thank you very much” Edwin retorted, barely capable of holding in his laughter.
They did not have the opportunity to use the knives, or the sabre, or the jar of killer bees, or any of the weapons in Charles' objectively impressive collection that day. The visit was uneventful, nothing seemed to be amiss. All that could be noted was the huge amount of lovers’ locks chained to the iron railings of the bridge.
That’s when I saw them for the first time.
Edwin shared his consideration that the attacks and the location shared the common theme of romantic attachments, and that therefore the creature causing these amnesias was probably connected to that particular realm of emotion. He did not share the contempt that he felt for the modern flaunting of emotions and fleeting romantic adventures, and he most absolutely did not share his envy for the attachments he never could have that hid underneath said contempt, as he didn’t even know it was there.
Charles on the other hand joked about them being older than any of the locks on the bridge and of the bridge itself. Underneath his smile he kept for himself the melancholy those locks gave him, rusty, abandoned, the names and dates washed away from the majority of them. He thought about how most of the loves those locks represented were certainly long dead, and then thought that he as well, like them, was long dead, and felt even sadder for those cold and wet pieces of metal.
They agreed to go back to the office for some more research on the nature of love themed supernatural entities and left the bridge together, without any feeling of worry or urgency, secure in their course of action.
Or at least that’s what they perceived happening.
Edwin was at his desk, reading the Compendium Of English and Irish Spyrits and Fearyes by Friar Athelstan of Torquay, when Charles stirred from his usual position, laying down on the sofa with his Walkman, and stood up, coming to lean on the desk with both his hands. His golden necklace dangled as he leaned forward. He had taken off his jacket, and the moonlight that shone through the window created bluish effects on the bronze skin of his arms, in a way that made it impossible for Edwin to focus on his reading at once, but that he had no intention of analysing further.
“I’m bored mate” Charles said unceremoniously.
“I have been working a mere three hours” Edwin protested.
“Yes, enough time that if you were alive you would have to get up and get something to munch on, so let’s go for a walk or something” Charles stopped leaning on the desk and walked resolutely across it towards Edwin’s chair.
“I haven’t made the smallest of improvements since I started, I see no reason to stop- Charles “ He interrupted this speech as Charles jerked his chair around towards him and placed his hands on the armrests of it.
Edwin had about a quarter of a breath of being annoyed at his friend for interrupting him, before the attitude his body had assumed overwhelmed every emotion of that sort he could fancy feeling.
Charles’ face was about ten inches away from his, despite his bending down at the hips Edwin’s head was at the height of his collarbone, Charles’ chain dangling once again, at the level of Edwin’s lips. Before he could stop it the thought of how it would feel were he to take it into his mouth flashed in Edwin’s brain, mortifying him to the point of inarticulation.
“The reason” Charles said, slowly, looking down into Edwin’s eyes with a purposeful and unflinching stare “is that I am bored”
Edwin tried to compose himself enough to formulate a response as he felt the seconds of silence go by between them, but he couldn’t find anything to say. He usually found Charles’ physical closeness comforting, calming even in stressful situations, but something was different now, something in Charles’ attitude was different. It wasn’t just that Edwin’s feelings were making it hard to think (his attention raced at different details, he tried to redirect his gaze to more appropriate places but it seemed like his whole field of vision was crowded by Charles’ body, arms, chest, neck, curls, lips, oh god lips) it wasn’t just that. He also couldn’t for the life of him understand what Charles was thinking at that moment.
Edwin had been sitting there in selective mutism, looking around like an idiot trying to avert his eyes from fifty different locations at once, and Charles hadn’t moved an inch, hadn’t said anything to alleviate the tension, if anything he looked… amused, as if Edwin’s visible unease was funny to him in some way. His smile didn’t make it any easier for Edwin to order his thoughts, but it didn’t make him feel any better either. The nervousness he felt was not softened by his beauty, it was aggravated by it.
“What’s gotten into you?” He finally managed to articulate, but his voice sounded a bit pathetic to his own ears, he cringed from it.
Charles smiled again “Why? Do you think I’m behaving weirdly?” his voice sounded derisive.
Edwin felt like he was fourteen again. He was suddenly back at St. Hylarion, small and weak, tormented by boys that feigned goodwill one second and insulted him the next because they found his struggle to tell irony from genuinity a racket. One day everyone had started to laugh every time he said anything, clapping him on the back saying he was hilarious, hysterical, to stop or they were all going to cry. Then the hands had become rougher and rougher, and and they had started battering him.
“You know what I mean” Edwin said, looking down at the floor to protect himself from that gaze.
He felt Charles’ fingers reach his chin, delicately. A shiver run through his whole body like a lightning, he could not, and possibly didn’t want, to stop him as he gently pushed his face up, again towards his own.
Once their eyes met again, Charles said
“I was merely wondering why we are pretending that we don’t like each other”
Edwin felt his phantom heart jump and clasp, his brain was now in a complete haze. He felt like he wanted to run away and etch every second of that moment in his brain at the same time.
“I never said I don’t like you, you’re my best friend” he hear his squeaky voice say, weakly.
“Am I?” Charles’ face shifted into feigned thoughtfulness as he straightened up “I don’t reckon I actually am”
Edwin stood up abruptly, his chest heaving in short breaths he absolutely didn’t need and also could not stop taking in.
“Of course you are, how could you say that?” Was he accusing Edwin? Was this about the reading still? Had he been neglecting his only friend? Was this what was happening? God why was he playing with him like that? Why could he not speak to him clearly?
Charles got hold of his hand and stepped towards him, bringing their bodies less than an inch from touching each other.
Oh.
Oh was that what was going on? Well clearly one couldn’t speak directly about that .
He ought to stop this, he can’t let them indulge in something like this. It’s normal enough to feel the desire to commit unnatural acts but an Englishman can’t possibly allow for anything like this in his life. It’s simply not right.
That’s a thought he heard in his mind, resounding quite a bit like his father’s voice as well.
He tried to step back, but his chair was blocking the way, and Charles just closed the space between them again.
“What are you running from mate?” There it was again, the derision.
“Charles, we shan’t-“
“We ‘shan’t’ what? Why?“ Charles interrupted him, and placed his other hand on Edwin’s waist.
Edwin could do nothing but turn his head around, shutting his eyes, as he felt their bodies colliding together, touching everywhere in the most improper way. He could no longer ignore the pressing feeling of tension that had been growing between his legs, and started to feel a bit sick.
And also really nice.
“What are you doing?” He panted out, as Charles hand left his own and reached the side of his face. He felt his friend’s face grazing his neck and jaw, his lips moving against his cheek as he answered.
“What you have been wanting me to do for thirty years” he said, and then he kissed Edwin’s cheek, leaving a bit of cold saliva behind, then he kissed him again, closer to his mouth. His hands went down to his hands, and then to his wrists, he kissed him again, his hands thigtened painfully, and again, the edges of their mouths touched this time.
Instinctively, and without being able to suppress a little whimper for every kiss, Edwin felt his neck turn towards Charles’ kisses, and their mouths meeting ultimately and inevitably.
It was a deep, filthy kiss, Charles tounge invaded Edwin’s mouth, his body pushed his own backwards, and the seat of his chair dug painfully in his calves, Charles’ hands felt like manacles on his wrists. But how sweet it was to feel their chests pressed together, how nice to feel one of his legs pushed between his own. ‘This pain is nothing, I can take it, I will take it all and ask for more’ Edwin heard himself think, this time in his own voice.
‘I always knew you were a pervert’ said Simon’s voice.
Charles pushed him against the desk, his hands finally leaving his wrists in favour of burying themselves in his hair. The kisses left his mouth and trailed down onto his neck, ravenously, sucking and biting hard.
Edwin didn’t stop him as he felt his shirt be undone and saw his bow tie fall down on the floor, he tried to take a deep breath, but what came out was a sob. He noticed his face was wet not just with saliva, but tears as well.
Charles grabbed his crotch with his whole hand, and Edwin felt fireworks in his veins.
It was too wonderful to stop, too horrible to keep going.
As Charles started to kiss his chest, lower and lower, Edwin realised he never would be able to look at him, speak to him, or even share a silence with him, in the same way he had done before. The memory of what they were about to do, of what they had already done, would never leave him.
He never would be able to forget that his best friend’s face was proof that his youth’s torments had been justified.
He brought his arms up to his face, his fists clenched as hard as possible, his bruised wrists pressed on his eyes so that he wouldn't see.
That’s when he realised, the clever boy.
He opened his eyes and looked at his wrists for a second, only a second. It was enough to snap himself out of it.
He raised his knee and kicked down the boy that was then kneeling on the floor between his legs, sending him against the wall with his back.
The boy that he had believed to be Charles screamed in surprise and said “What the fuck mate”, but Edwin laughed maniacally at him and placed a foot on his chest to stop him from getting up.
He placed his bruised wrists in front of the boy’s face, smiling like a madman.
“I am dead.” He said “I can’t bruise, which means that you are not Charles”.
The surprised and hurt face disappeared from Charles’ face (because it really was Charles’ face, Edwin had to concede, up to the smallest detail, even if the boy wearing it surely wasn’t Charles). His face went completely blank, like an autom turning off, and in the blink of an eye his body faded into thin air, leaving Edwin’s foot to fall on the ground, off balancing him physically and emotionally.
“Charles!“ He screamed as he lunged forward, as if to catch the image out of the nothing it had become. It served nothing that he had understood the deceit logically, his soul screamed that he had made some mistake and made the one he loved the most disappear forever.
He turned around to look for him, and that’s when he saw me.
Two women standing at the opposite sides of the office, one green and scaly, a monstress with snakes for hair and fangs for teeth, the other a beautiful young woman with fair hair and skin, fully naked, holding a hand mirror in her hands.
Most people would have asked me who I was at that point, but not this clever boy. This clever boy had made his mind a knife to cut the world up into little pieces he could easily understand. He had made memory and knowledge his shield against the many forces in the world out to destroy him with no chance to ask for mercy. He just looked at me for a silent moment, and then said.
“You are Apate and Aletheia, goddesses of truth and falsehood”
He sounded calm as well, he would have fooled anyone, but not me, I saw the disarray of his insides like he was made of glass.
“That’s surely how we appear” I said through the fanged mouth of falsehood.
“It’s not really a lie either” I continued through the pretty red lips of truth.
“Just like what you just saw wasn’t really a lie” I finished, my voice coming out of both the mouths, and still sounding as only one voice, because it was only one voice, mine.
Three questions burned inside of Edwin’s calm shell, but he uttered only one, the only one he could not live without the answer of.
“What have you done with Charles?”
I laughed, the goddesses that are me clasped their hands together and hugged each other like two old friends sharing an old joke.
“Such a sweet display of devotion. But don’t fool yourself, you still failed the test, it doesn’t count if you snap out of it because you are perceptive”
“I don’t understand” Edwin retorted, laconically.
“I know, Edwin, I know, but it’s such fun seeing those well oiled wheels of reason turn in your head! It wouldn’t be nearly as nice to just tell you, it’s much better to see you figure it out on your own” the goddesses suddenly looked at each other with enthusiastic urgency, as if they just had the funnest idea to spice up this party.
“How about a little riddle? You solve this and I answer a question of yours. You are wondering who I am, so I tell you, I am the place where truth and falsehood meet and mingle, as I can never be really expressed without a touch of both” I looked at him expectantly with my four eyes, blue and toxic green.
Edwin hesitated for a moment, but recognition sparked in his eyes, the goddesses clapped their hands excitedly before he could even say.
“You are reality”
I looked at him like a proud mother as I said “You are such a bright young man, a worth ending of this little game I have been playing”.
A wave of disgust clouded his judgement for a second, but hard and cold as steel he posed his question.
“Where’s Charles?”
“No, not this question, that’s not interesting. I’ll give him back to you soon enough, ask me the other question, the one you wanted to ask before”
Edwin faltered, unsure whether to press on or give in. He realised his utter inferiority in front of my power and decided to humour me.
“What did you mean when you said what I experienced was not entirely a lie?”
His fear made me shiver all over, the hint of realisation half formed in his brain thrilled me, intoxicated me, his understanding was almost complete. I just love making people really get it.
“I invent nothing. Facts are hard as rocks, but potential is volatile, fluid, refreshing . What could be really tickles my imagination in great, great ways. The potential for what you saw is all real, the darkness in you and in him is all there and only asks for the right encouragement to come out.”
Edwin’s facade filled with thin cracks, his expression tensed and crumpled slightly. The face of a scared child trying not to cry.
I love it when things start looking like what they really are.
“I saw you guys. So close and yet so far! So I decided to test you a bit. Are the parts of each other that you ignore big enough to warrant your mutual destruction?”
Edwin’s eyes closed and his chest trembled as he turned away and brought a hand to his face, pressing it on his mouth as if to stop a retching.
“You failed the test” I said, triumphant, satisfied, the goddesses looking at each other, allowing a little gloating to show. “The unrevealed darkness in you complements the repressed forcefulness in him. He harbours the seeds of your destruction, and you have proved unable to stop him from enacting it.”
Edwin’s silence was broken by the sound of a gasping sob escaping between his fingers.
“The way you hate yourself because of what you really want” I continued “makes you unable to stop someone from using these desires against you, and his way of loving is violent, because he has never in his life seen a love without pain and constriction at its basis”
Just as the sound of something cracking gloriously and forever filled Edwin’s rib cage, a school bell rang, the cruel and nonsensical sound filling the whole office. Edwin looked at the goddesses with frightened and pleading eyes. They smiled at each other knowingly and said
“Well, look at that. Seems like Charles just failed his test”
Edwin’s eyes filled with terror as realisation washed over him.
“His idea of himself is so low that whatever anyone he loves does to him, he will always find a way to think of it as his own fault. Your continuous repression made your desires rot inside of you, turning them into something dark and hurngry”
“I think you should go get him, he is quite distraught” the goddesses added, and pointed to the office door.
Edwin threw himself towards it with no hesitation, slamming it open.
Charles wished all would just stop, because he simply couldn’t take it anymore.
It was too much, just too much.
His cheek tingled weirdly in the aftermath of the slap. His body felt numb all over, as if he was freezing to death all over again.
If just he could understand what he had done, maybe he could find a way to make it better again. He must have done something to make him mad.
But what could he possibly have done that made him deserve it? What had changed oh god what had changed?
Edwin paced around the room, as if to blow off some steam, to calm himself. Well that was good, innit? That meant he didn’t want to hit him, he had just lost his temper for a second, that’s all. It happens to the best of us, doesn’t it? His dad never tried to calm down.
But Edwin was different. He would never hurt him. Why? Why?
“I’m sorry Charles” Edwin said, still looking away from him, as if the sight of him was still enough to enrage him, liable to make him lose it still. Charles’ heart leaped towards his words, scrambling for anything at all he could cling to, for anything that could justify this, warrant his belief that his best made was nice and good and he had gotten this all wrong in some way.
“I should not have hit you, I know. I just did it because I am so very… fond, of you. I don’t like to see you waste your potential. I would like you to be the best version of yourself”
Yeah, that could do it. Love always hurts, doesn’t it? It hurt his mom all right. Maybe he was just dumb for having thought it would not hurt between him and Edwin. He always thought dumb things.
He was dumb, so dumb, so stupid, no wonder Edwin was pissed at him. He never got anything right.
Edwin came to him and placed a hand on his cheek, gently.
‘Oh yes please, more.’ Charles heard himself think, so hard it was a wonder Edwin couldn’t hear it too. ‘Please hug me and tell me you forgive me, please make this feeling go away, tell me you still love me despite all the stupid shit I do.’
“You are not cross at me, right?“ Edwin asked.
A wave of affection overwhelmed every fibre of Charles’ being. How could he possibly be mad at Edwin, he loved him. He had apologised, and now he was caressing his face where he had slapped him. Charles closed his eyes and sunk into the touch, he felt the weird urge to sink to his knees and beg for forgiveness.
Edwin’s fingers stroked his face softly, his thumb grazing his lips, one time almost like it was an accident, and a second time more purposefully, lingering on his lower lip.
Charles’ brain registered this with mild confusion. A confusion not growing or wavering as he noticed Edwin’s other hand reaching his waist and the sound of his breath getting closer to him.
As he felt Edwin’s lips meet his own all he was able to think was ‘of course he slapped me, he loves me like this ’.
Edwin’s body pushed him into the wall, his hands encircled his wrists, squeezing them hard. ‘He must be worried I’ll try to get away’ Charles guessed, maybe he should have told him he wasn’t going to fight back.
Charles realised he was getting really hard and felt dirty, because it wasn’t the feeling of Edwin’s lips on his face and neck that had done it, but the pain in his wrists.
Once again he begged whatever could be listening, god, the universe, anyone at all, to just make it all stop forever.
Edwin’s kisses became bites, and with the pain grew the pleasure. He wished he would rip his jugular out and finish him.
Edwin raised his face to his and pressed their foreheads together and panted out
“You know I love you right?”
The affection came again, stronger than the first time, choking out all other thoughts and feelings. ‘I’ll let you destroy me’ he thought ‘tear me to bits, please’.
As if hearing his thoughts, Edwin's face hardened, and his nails dug in his wrists so hard Charles felt the wetness of blood on his palms.
“Tell me that you love me too” he said, frantically.
Charles felt like ne was going to choke, his disgust and fear mixed in equal part with the overpowering pleasure between his legs.
“Yes, yes I love you mate I promise” he hear himself say, his voice trembling and breaking in stutters. He could not stop himself from adding “I’m sorry” and how sweet those words felt on his lips, the words of final submission, let him do whatever he wants with him now.
“STOP” Edwin screamed, standing in the open doorway, crying. “STOP I BEG OF YOU”.
When Charles and Edwin found themselves suddenly in an unfamiliar part of town, with no idea of what had happened to them, and with wrists and necks marked by bruises, they thought their investigation had just taken an interesting turn. However, when Edwin took out his notebook to write down their findings, he saw two full pages where his handwriting, more messy than usual he noted, traced few words in cubital letters.
THE CASE IS SOLVED. OUR MEMORIES HAVE BEEN ERASED. DO NOT INVESTIGATE FURTHER.
Later on, back at the office, Charles found a scribble on his wrist in blue pen ink. Small, as if it was written in secret.
It read “DONT LET HIM HURT YOU”
Charles would never understand who the ‘him’ could be.