House of Skin

MEMOIRS OF THE TEMPLAR SOCIETY (2)

“Here we are again,” Grimes said smugly. “Brothers of sensation.”

“As every week.”

They were at Zero’s house, drinking and discussing. They called the place the House of Mirrors because Zero had covered every conceivable space with mirrors for reasons he wouldn’t comment upon. The house was bare save for these, a few sticks of furniture, beds upstairs, and hundreds of books describing every possible perversion. No one lived here, not even Zero. It was merely a meeting place. A club of sorts.

Zero refreshed their drinks.

“As I said,” Grimes muttered, “here we are again.”

Stadtler studied his drink. “And what’s our pleasure tonight?”

“Yes, what exactly?” Zero said.

These two bothered Stadtler immensely sometimes. They seemed to communicate on a secret level that he was never able to broach. Theirs was a play of words, a subtle hint, a wink, a nod that spoke volumes to one another and left him completely in the dark. There was always a secret agenda between the two and Stadtler felt he would always remain a stranger to it.

Zero had something in mind tonight. That much was obvious, but direct questioning would only garner unpleasant looks from both he and Grimes. So Stadtler would have to wait until they were both ready to tell him what was on the agenda. He knew from experience it was the only way.

“I often wonder,” Zero said, “what exactly it takes to unhinge the human mind. What factors have to be brought into play.”

“Yes,” Grimes agreed. “A fascinating concept.”

Stadtler said nothing. He needed to hear where this was going before he commented on it. Unlike Grimes, he didn’t worship everything Zero said. He was not a yes-man.

“Have you ever wondered about this?” Zero inquired.

“Sure, I wonder about a lot of shit,” Stadtler told him point blank. “It all depends on the individual. Isn’t that obvious? What drives you crazy may make me laugh and vise versa.”

“Concise, as usual, my friend,” Zero said. “I think you’ve hit on the crux of the entire dilemma. We all have fears, don’t we? Hidden terrors of childhood that have become adult paranoias. It’s only a matter of finding out what they are. Sometimes, I think, we’re not even sure what they are ourselves. And, even if we knew, would we dare admit them? Think of the power it would give another over us.”

“And what are you afraid of, Zero?” Stadtler asked.

“Of death, of course. Isn’t that what we’re all afraid of?”

“It’s a universal fear,” Grimes said as if he knew it all too well. “The end of physical existence. Nothingness. What can be more terrifying?”

Stadtler grinned. “You tell me.”

Zero said, “What are your fears, Stadtler? Tell us.”

“Boredom. It’s the only thing that’s really dogged me all my life. Sheer boredom. Nothing else even comes close.”

“Really?” Zero obviously didn’t believe him.

“Really. Don’t try and dig in my head. There’s nothing you’d like inside.”

Zero smiled. “I think there are only two subjects worth our study, gentlemen: fear and death.”

Grimes and he exchanged a secret look.

Stadtler lit a cigarette. “Explain that.”

“What’s to explain?” Zero asked in his typically evasive way.

“That pretty much says it all,” Grimes chimed in.

“Then humor me. What are you two getting at? Scaring people? Killing them?”

“Would that bother you?”

“Yes,” Grimes said, “would it?”

Stadtler took a slow, even drag from his smoke. “Not in the least.”

Zero grinned like a cat. He had chosen his partners in crime well and it pleased him that they were willing to travel any road he selected. Stadtler saw the content, self-indulgent look on his face and wondered for a moment just how far this could possibly go.

“Are we going to take life?” Grimes asked.

“Yes,” Zero assured him. “How else can we study death before and after?”

“And what about fear?” Stadtler said. “How are we going to go about studying that? If I might ask.”

“There are ways. Let me tell you what I’ve been thinking,” Zero said. “As I said, I’ve always been intrigued by what it would take to completely snap an individual’s mind. And I don’t mean just terrify them or give them a garden variety psychosis. I mean totally destroy their psyche, totally destroy what makes them a person. Wipe the slate clean, so to speak. Reduce this person to a basal level where he or she knows and remembers nothing but terror. Then,” he said in almost a whisper, “we could re-learn this person to our own fancy. Re-engineer their psyche.”

“I’m not following you,” Stadtler admitted.

“It’s simple. Reduce this person through fear, strip their mind away, propel them backwards into a state of psychological infancy.”

“Exactly,” Grimes said.

“To what end?”

“Enlightenment and pleasure, if you will. Pleasure in the satisfaction we’ll derive from destroying their will and life programming; enlightenment in that we’ll ultimately understand the nature of horror itself.”

“How do we go about it?”

“First we need a volunteer,” Zero said.

“Who?”

“The streets are full of them,” Grimes said.

“Then let’s go find one.”

It was the beginning of the end.