Television

Television, aka "telling a lie to your vision" shuts down the frontal lobe. It's not so much that it tells you what is real as it tricks you into thinking everything is normal and safe when in fact there are monsters out there. You can't see them because they don't exist. They're just something on television or in comic books; stories made up by people who want money. The government wants us all to believe this crap about how we live in a world where anything could happen at any time and nobody would ever know but themselves. But if you think about it, that means every day somebody somewhere is getting eaten alive by giant ants or devoured by some sort of wild animal while you sit here eating breakfast with your family. That's scary! So why do we let these things keep happening? Why do we go along with their lies? Because they pay us good money for our silence.
She was right. Money talks; bullshit walks. And the more shit you spew, the bigger the paycheck. All she had to do now was find her next target. She knew exactly what he wanted and needed: a story. Something big enough to make him feel important but small enough to be believable. A human interest piece—something like his own missing daughter. An abduction, maybe even an alien invasion. Whatever it took to get him to sell another round of those pills...
Now, the key word being "sell." If she couldn't convince someone else to take one of those pills, then she'd have no choice but to follow through on her original plan. No matter how many times she told herself it wasn't going to work, deep inside she knew better. Deep down, she felt certain that once she got him talking about himself, she could make him talk about anything. Anything at all. Just like she did with her last subject.
The door opened behind her and she turned around to face the man standing there. He looked nervous. Maybe he thought she might try to run off with his new friend. Well, if that happened, she'd just say he owed her one. After all, she was the only person in town who hadn't been hypnotized by his little show.
He closed the door behind him and locked it. Then he walked over to her and handed her a pair of sunglasses. "I'm sorry," he said. "But I didn't want you to freak out when you saw me."
"Freak out?" she asked. "What are you talking about? I've seen you before. We met at the mall."
"Yeah, but you still haven't heard my pitch yet. Please, take off your glasses. It'll be easier that way."
She slipped the frames onto her nose.
"Good," he said. "Now look at me."
She did as he instructed. His eyes were gray. Gray and cold. There was nothing warm or friendly about them. Nothing inviting. In fact, there was something downright creepy about them.
"I know you think I'm crazy," he said. "You think I'm nuts. But I'm telling you, I am not crazy. This is real. Do you understand? I'm serious!"
She nodded.
"See, I've been watching you. I know everything about you. Your name is Heather. You're twenty-three years old and you live in a house on Tanglewood Drive with your parents. They're both doctors and they're divorced."
She frowned. "That's none of your business."
"Oh, but it is," he said. "Because you're my next victim. My newest project. And I need to know how you're going to react to what I tell you. Are you ready?"
She stared at him. What was he talking about? She shook her head. "No," she said. "I'm not ready."
"Yes, you are," he insisted. "And I'm going to prove it to you. I'm going to show you something."
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a digital camera. "Look at this," he said.
She glanced down at the camera and immediately recognized the lens. It was the same kind of lens that was used in the video cameras they showed on television. Only this one was much smaller.
"Do you know what this is?" he asked.
"A camera," she said.
"Not quite," he replied. "This is a spy camera. One that can record images from hundreds of feet away. This is a high definition camera. It has a resolution of two million pixels. And I know because I designed it myself."
She stared at him. She wondered if he was crazy. Was he really claiming to have invented a camera that could see through walls?
"I also know that you're not going to believe what I'm about to show you. But you will. Because you're the perfect candidate for my next project."
"My next project?" she repeated.
"Yes, my next project. And you're the perfect subject. You don't think so?"
"Why should I trust you?"
"Trust me? Trust me? I'm not asking you to trust me. I'm telling you to trust me. That's what we're doing here. I'm giving you a chance to save yourself. To avoid being my next victim. So please, just take off your glasses and look at this."
He held up the camera. She did as he instructed.
"Okay," he said. "Now watch carefully. Watch closely."
With that, he pressed a button and the screen on the back lit up. The camera was recording.
"What is that?" she asked.
"That's the future," he answered. "Right now, you're sitting at home. Watching television. And you're about to witness history. History as it happens right in front of you."
She stared at him. He seemed so sincere.
"I know you think I'm crazy," he said again. "But you're wrong. You're going to see what I'm talking about. Right now. All you have to do is sit tight and let me show you."
He pressed another button. The camera zoomed in. A tiny dot appeared on the screen.
"What is that?" she asked.
"That's your house," he said. "It looks like it's on fire. It looks like your family is trapped inside. It looks like they're screaming for help."
"Stop it!" she screamed. "Please! Stop it!"
He hit the stop button and turned around. "I'm sorry," he said. "I thought you'd be more receptive to seeing what I've got to show you. But you're not. So now I'm going to have to make you see it. I'm going to have to hypnotize you."
She tried to run away but he grabbed her by the arm and yanked her toward him.
"Relax," he said. "You're safe. I won't hurt you. I promise. I'm just going to give you a little dose of truth serum. Just enough to loosen your tongue."
"No!" she shouted. "Don't do it! Don't put me under!"
"It's okay," he said. "I'll wake you up when it's all over. Then you can tell everybody how you saw it happen. How you watched your own family die in agony. That's why I need you to relax. Otherwise, I might accidentally slip and say something you shouldn't hear."
"I don't want to know!" she cried. "I don't want to see any of this!"
"Then I guess I'll just have to show you," he said.
He pushed her down onto the couch. Then he placed his hand on top of her head.
"Relax," he said. "Just relax."
Her eyes were closed. Her mouth was open. He lowered his face close to hers.
"Now," he whispered. "Open your eyes."
She opened them.
And then she screamed.
Chapter 1: The Dollhouse
(from The Boneyard)
Seth stood on the edge of the woods and stared down into the clearing. His father was kneeling beside a body on the ground. Seth had never seen his mother before. But he knew who she was.
His dad was digging a grave.