Ashes of a Madman

Chapter 9 - My Own Demise

Trigger Warning: This chapter contains rape and attempted murder.

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Only remnants of the poem do I remember. Know Then Thyself by Alexander Pope whispered to me.

A being darkly wise and rudely great;

With too much knowledge for the Skeptic side,

With too much weakness for the Stoic's pride...

Created half to rise and half to fall;

Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;

Sole judge of truth, in endless error hurled;

The glory, jest, and riddle of the world...

And in this primal place, I pondered the postulations of Charles Darwin, the controversial naturalist. I had read his work, his new faith of no faith, as I had once heard it called. It was termed survival of the fittest. I pondered him now because of the instinctive emotions and thoughts that we have all at least once tried to suppress. The basic and primal survival instincts suppressed by the concept that emotions can be conquered by reason. Just as Pope declared:

What reason weaves by passion is undone.

When Geoff had returned to me from this place in the spring 1878, I could see him struggling. His tenderness was giving way to his spirit's death. His eyes once dreamed of us. I could see that at one time, very briefly, I was loved with all of his passion, his true self, and his bare soul. When Dr. Vargas, the demon, breathed green malignancy into his mind, Geoff's warm dream cooled into a hazy photograph. Perhaps I was mistaken. My passion would unravel reason. Feminine instinct was otherwise known as the suspicions of a bored mind.

Instinctively I knew Geoff was with other women. This knowledge did not grow from a doubtful heart or from a passionate or even bored mind. It grew in my stomach. But I did not want passion to undo my reason, so I sought confirmation, substantiation. He stood on the fourth step of a winding staircase with a woman on his right arm. When I called his name softly (or perhaps I heard only a muffled version of my voice through the clouds of shock and disbelief), he looked down at me, as though his eyes had fallen on a butterfly in hell. His lips parted. It was the instant before his dream and his demon collided for the first time. Even when he was wounding me in silence, he looked so beautiful. An imprint of his powerful form and passionate mouth, those dark eyes with utopian visions of us is what destroys the weaving of my reason. But I know in that moment I was caught up in his dream of what we should have been. With all that I have lacked since, I hunger to experience in reality what Geoff showed me in that brief turning of his head.

Geoff denied his instinct. He knew what we could become. Whether it was his passion for the beauty that the BaBali high priest experienced during the elima sacrifice or his reason telling him to deny his love for a greater cause, it does not matter. I had seen his gentle spirit and was convinced that Dr. Vargas' demon, which took Geoff over, could be exorcised. Somehow.

Comparing Emma's diary to my own timeline, I convinced myself that Geoff did intend for our marriage to be normal, his visions of us were meant to be a reality. The charm that he gave to Emma for Christmas in 1874 (which described combination for the curse) demonstrated his desire to use her as his elima sacrifice. I met him in April 1875. Perhaps the fact that he has given me no such evil charm is evidence of his internal debate. His actions prove that his demon is stronger.

Her courtship with Geoff seemed so sad to me. He poured out his universe to gain my attention and respect. Yes, he sought my respect. At first, I deliberately made him uncomfortable. Insisting that I had no need for his assistance or guidance. And as I am a resourceful woman, it is frequently true that I can manage alone. So he stood back and admired me in silence. He and Philip began to get along very well. Philip was a good advisor, but Geoff took action on his insights. Every few weeks Philip and I would visit our country home. My brother invited Geoffrey to accompany us. While we visited the tenants in the scattered cottages, we became stuck in a mud hole. Philip began to delegate who should fetch us another carriage and such. But Geoff took off his coat and rolled his sleeves to his elbows.