Prologue 0.A

“And after The Eyes Within, I heard you’ve been backpacking all over. Thailand, China, Hawaii? And you’ve been vlogging all these trips, is that right? Sounds like you’ve been having quite the adventure.” Jimmy Venkers, the host of Night Out, asked his celebrity guest for the night. Basil Alba, the pretentious, former teen star, former has-been actor who’d somehow uncharacteristically managed to land roles the past two years in a string of indie blockbusters and who now refused to give him anything aside from single word yes-or-nos or completely incomprehensible mumblings about Spirits this and Gaea that. It was likely the actor was high right now on something. Either that or this was all meant to create controversy for the movie he was promoting. He could see it now. “Disastrously awkward interview with the enigmatic Basil Alba on Night Out.” That enigmatic part ruffled him. Hell, this guy used to do plumbing gadget infomercials five years ago just before he or his publicist got the brilliant idea to rebrand him as Mr. Crossfit, Action Star Charles Manson.

“Vlogging. Yes,” Basil Alba said with a playful smile and a tone that unnecessarily emphasized that word, vlogging. Yes, I know what vlogging is, Jimmy thought. What the hell is he implying? I’m only 45. You’re not going to make me second guess myself just because you and your in-group of rabid 14-year-olds might have coined some other, newer shittier term.

Keep it light for this one, Jimmy, he remembered his producer say that afternoon. Well, I was going to, but since you so desperately want to tank this interview, I’m really not going to let you do it at my expense, pal.

“Speaking of vlogs, Basil, recently there’s been a bit of controversy about one of the videos in your channel.” Jimmy began. He scrutinized his guest for any reactions. Nothing. “There was an issue about a video that had to be taken down on social media. It was some sort of a séance in some haunted forest?”

Basil just sat there seemingly unaware or unconcerned about what he was hinting at. He wasn’t talking. At all. What felt like ten seconds of dead air passed. Jimmy was thinking about dropping the topic altogether when he noticed it. A tiny movement at the corner of Basil’s lips that slowly, unnaturally slowly, turned into a self-satisfied smile.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Jimmy.”

“You don’t know?” he replied. Drop the topic, Jimmy told himself but something about Basil’s reaction made him want to see where this could go. “Well, I certainly think I can refresh your memory on the matter. Your publicists have actually spoken about this on your behalf. There was a video from this summer which you posted on social media that some concerned groups have said, and I quote ‘contained subliminal, demonic messages directly responsible for causing a portion of its audience-- dozens of viewers-- to go into prolonged epileptic seizures.’ There’s even been some speculation that this was responsible for the fatal heart attack of a 17-year-old Japanese girl.”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

“Well, Jimmy, I think…” he began. “Yeaahhhh. I think I do remember that video. My team really worked hard on it but I think there must have been some… video glitch that made it look like it had-- what did you call them, subliminal, demonic messages? But I’ll tell ya, those soccer moms really have a great imagination. Like, seriously, Jimmy. Do I actually look like I dabble at all in the demonic?” the audience laughed at the self-aware jab.

“Yeah, whatever could have given anyone that idea.”Jimmy added, trying to ride in on the joke. Not going the way he thought it would go.

Basil stood, then raised his hands palm up as if to say take a look and made a show of turning around for the audience. He was decked out in all black, with a goatee and sunglasses hooked in front of polo shirt. Getting the reaction he seemingly wanted, he sat back down but this time with his entire body oriented towards Jimmy.

“I have a question of my own for you, Jimmy. Do you believe in the supernatural?”

“The supernatural? No, I don’t suppose I do.”

“Has anything ever happened to you that made you question your entire conceptual model of reality?” Basil asked. “I think you’re going to love this. What if I could prove to you that magic was real. And not just to you but to everyone watching at home right now?

“Magic? Are you going to do a magic trick for us, Basil?

“You could call it that. But it’s not a trick. It’s real. And it’s not just magic. I’d like to think of it as simply opening the door a little inside the minds of everyone watching. That door leads to a world of greater possibilities. It’s really easy.”

“Well, I don’t think we have the time for something like—“

“It’ll just take one minute. One minute, Jimmy. People will be talking about this moment for years to come. I wasn’t going to do this tonight yet, but what the hell. Perfect is the enemy of good, right? Come on. Aren’t you curious?”

Jimmy gave a quick glance to Collin, the producer, standing beside the cameraman. He seemed as confused as he was but the man ended up giving Jimmy a noncommittal thumbs up. “All right, fine. Show me what you had in mind.”

“This will be fun. All I’ll do is give a few simple instructions. And I promise everyone watching right now, they’re going to have their minds blown by this. Not… literally, of course. I promised my manager no more lawsuits this year. Jimmy, I want you to close your eyes” Basil said. He then turned around to look at the camera directly in front of the stage.

Fine. What the hell do I have to lose, Jimmy thought, before closing his eyes. What if it’s a prank, though. Am I gonna get cake thrown at me or something? Jimmy thought about opening his eyes again for a peek but found he couldn’t do so anymore. He couldn’t open his eyes! But surely there’s some explanation to this. No matter how much he tried… nothing. He couldn’t even focus on what that Basil was droning on about anymore. He tried to rub his hands with his eyes to get them to open but upon touching his eyes he felt it. No eyelids. No eyelashes? Just a smooth tent of skin covering the eyeballs.

“And everybody else in the audience, just close your eyes as well. Everybody watching at home on the TV or on the Internet. Just listen to my words.”

Basil paused for a moment and smiled at his work. Everyone in the studio had their eyes closed now. “We are outside. Imagine you’re in a forest. Nothing but you and the trees and the soft grass underneath your feet. There are no other creatures inside this forest. It is absolutely, completely silent. So silent you can hear your own heart beating, you can hear the soft movement of air in and out of your lungs. And slowly, very slowly, you find yourself relaxing. Where you are, there is absolutely no light around. Just complete darkness. The stars have stopped producing light a billion years ago. Outside of this forest you’re in, where we all are in, there is no more life in the Universe.”