Somnia

Chapter Fourteen

"Hello, Malcom," I say. He gives me a nasty glare that I find quite satisfying.

"That character no longer exists," he says, now cradling the journal in his hands. A feather pen rests on top of it.

"Sure he does," I say, just for the heck of it. Stalling. "If a hero can turn into a villain, can't a villain turn back into a hero?"

He drops the book and pen onto the splintered table. "I'm neither a hero nor a villain. I'm simply trying to exist."

"Using people against their will as a means to an end automatically makes you a villain."

He gives me a long, disconcerting look. "I think we both know who the real villain is."

I point to myself. "Me?" I'm joking, but he nods once. Oh. Opening the journal to a blank page, he holds it in place with a small glass jar filled with red ink. No—not ink. Blood. He holds the feather pen out to me. I don't take it.

"If I'm the villain...then who's the hero?" I ask. Yes, I'm still stalling, but I also want to understand what's going on. "You?" I scoff. He smiles down at the floor.

"No, Wiles. I already told you I'm not the hero. You are."

"But you just said—"

"Correct. And you're also the hero." He clasps his hands behind his back. "You're an Author," he adds, as if that solves everything.

"How could I possibly be both?"

"You're not just both. You're everyone. Authors draw from themselves and their life experiences to create the characters for their books. So in a way, I am you." He dips the pin in the inkwell. "Writing my name will free me; allow me to be my own person." He's watching my reactions carefully. "That's all I want Wiles. To find my place. To belong somewhere. I'm the part of you that is never satisfied, never fitting in." I give him a sharp look. "This will change that," he continues. "This will give me a chance to find my place myself."

I gesture tiredly with my hands. "So what are you going to do? Threaten to harm someone I love? Physically force me to write your name?"

"I won't have to force you," he says. He sounds so convinced of himself it's as though he knows something I don't. "Because freeing me will free you as well."

"Thanks, but I don't need any of your 'finding your inner self' crap."

He gives me a long pointed look. "No, Wiles, that's not what I'm talking about." Shep sits on the end of the table. "You'll be getting rid of the part of you that's always felt lost."

"What, are you my shrink now?" I stand up off the bench and look back out the window. Kal is still there, watching.

"If you let me go you won't need one," he says.

I turn sharply to him. "I didn't need one to begin with. The only reason I don't know where I belong is because you trapped me in a fake world and erased my memories. I don't know who I am!"

"Well for starters, your real name is Riley."

"Get out!" I advance with every intention of sending my fist at his face. He quickly holds up the feather.

"Write my name and I'll be gone forever."

"How about I stab you with it instead?"

"I won't be your character anymore. I'll be my own person." He's selling it hard.

"You're pathetic."

"Yes, I agree. The part of you that feels unwanted and confused is pathetic."