((The time line of video takes place briefly I before joined the Cabal ... In order to keep everything organized, I am planning on adding additional posts below this one to form a pseudo type of log ... I will probably skip sequential numbers here and there to keep the flow from falling off ... I hope you enjoy it!))
This video begins abruptly, and Treylar is shown leaning against his right bare forearm while smoking shirtless with only his boxers and baggy jeans on. His forearm is positioned on the side of the frame of the small open window of his 3rd floor flat above the House of Chalk. Apparently watching the goings on at the Haitian Square Market.
He is not fazed by the damp and chilly air coming through the open window along with a few drops of rain on his bare skin.
The sound of a soft female voice is heard from the bed in the room, "Didn't ya hear me? The 9 Swords is reversed ..."
Treylar interrupts, "Yes, yes! I know what it means! Stop reading my fate ... you have your payment for your 'services', Now go!"
The barely clothed prostitute responds from the bed, "Ya be the first I ever met with an aura blacker 'an night. Jus'ta black matte."
Treylar turns away from the window and approaches the bed, "Sweetheart, I doubt I am the first of anything with you...", and then turns over to the nightstand beside the bed and picks up a large mostly empty bottle of Irish whiskey along with the small bottle that was right next to it.
The angered woman springs from the bed and begins to quickly dress herself, "THAT t'is the last time ya call me a whore! Next time, find someone else!" Once dressed she storms out of the bedroom followed by the sound of the door to the flat opening, and slamming shut.
"The neighbors will love that this early on a weekend." Treylar says while walking back to the open window to set down the bottle of whiskey. He then is seen, opening the small bottle, and taking out a white pill. He looks at it for a moment as it rests in the palm of his hand, before popping it in his mouth and taking a swig from the bottle washing it down.
Treylar seems to notice something outside and yells, "See ya next week!" Only two words are heard in the bedroom, "FUCK OFF!"
"Seriously Mr. Evans, can we get back on track here?", the voice from Treylar's tablet asks from behind him in the bedroom.
This video is only a recording from what was captured from the camera on Treylar's tablet; though the voice of the person on the other can clearly be heard.
"I really doubt your 'employer' would enjoy to learn that you were engaging in nefarious activities of a sexual nature while consuming alcoholic beverages during one of your mandated therapy sessions. By the way that reminds me, what was in that small bottle? Because I highly doubt it was any true formal medication. I would expect this type of behavior from one of your American movie actors, but really, what are you trying to prove herein, this, our first session?"
"Where were we then Catherine?", Treylar asks before flipping his cigarette out the window and walking over to the opened tablet on top of the chest of drawers with the bottle of whiskey still in hand.
She responds with "Well, after finishing our introductions, and asking about your ... you really can do this without the crutch of having that bottle."
"What?! What if I poured some in a glass with ice? It will look like I'm having iced tea.", Treylar quips.
A defiant "No!" is the only sound that responds back from Catherine.
"Fine!", Treylar walks to the nightstand and places the bottle of whiskey in its original location.
"See! Now ... isn't that better?", Catherine asks while Treylar walks back to his tablet.
Treylar mockingly responds back with, "No, Mum!"
Catherine responds by talking quickly ... much like a mother scolding a child, "Fine! Your comfort then is no longer apart of this session, but you will complete this session and the remainder of the mandated sessions from here on out. Mocking myself, and my accent will not win you any awards. In the end, it will only prove to make things more difficult for you! I would expect more from a person that is a guest in this country. You, no doubt, would expect the same if we were in the America's."
"DO NOT ... YOU ...", Treylar pauses for a moment and realizes the mistake he's about to make. "You're right, fine, let me take us into the kitchen then." With that he picks up the tablet and the video shakes around in an unrecognizable pattern until being set down on the table so that both parties can be clearly seen again by each other again with a pack of cigarettes and lighter slightly in view to one side.
"Is this better?", Treylar asks.
After realizing that he has somewhat mocked another of Catherine's questions, Treylar closes his eyes and hangs his head down waiting for the impending doom before Catherine has a chance to respond.
Catherine responds, "Hmm, that does sound patronizing. I will have to never use that phrase again in a session. You have my most sincerest apologies."
Treylar adds while looking down , "Thanks, I'm glad to know I'm still 'batting-a-thousand' here...", he then raises is head back up, "... but I really wasn't trying to patronize you."
Catherine begins with, "Yes, I know ... please, let's move past this. Now... ", she pauses, "… once again, how does one go from a Harvard graduate to the front-lines of a war?"
As the painkiller and alcohol from earlier are now beginning to take effect Treylar asks, "What do you mean, war? What happened in the beginning was not a war."
Catherine asks her question again, "Ok, but still that does not answer the question Mr. Evans. How do your experiences from Harvard translate into what you've done recently?", upon seeing Treylar's current state becoming more relaxed she adds,"The last time I checked, there was still no accredited course at Harvard that offered a Zombie Killing 101."
Treylar pauses to briefly to enjoy the side effects of drug and alcohol combination before saying, "What I've done recently is not why I'm here. This is part of my atonement."
Catherine quickly adds, "Atonement? That is quite a word for it, and a big one at that. To me it sounds like the beginning of a made up a word so that you can justify an Ethical Nihilism type of philosophical doctrine."
"What did you just say?", Treylar asks quizzically.
Catherine continued, "You heard me Mr. Evans ... you are making up a word to justify and cleanse your hands that are stained with innocent blood. From my stand point, it would seem that this is the beginnings of a lie to cheat your way out of a tragic situation."
Treylar responds while leaning forward so that his head is closer to the tablet, "First, I heard you just fine; I wanted to repeat a term you just used so that I understood your context. Second it's also called Moral Nihilism which is, by definition, the meta-ethical view that morality does not exist as something inherent to objective reality; therefore no action is necessarily preferable to any other. Third, you are attempting to engage me in a battle of philosophy, by presenting myself with a reality that has been created by human construction, and artificial. All meaning within this construct will be relative only to the possible moral outcomes that were created as ‘correct’. The lie is therefore in the hands of the one that builds this type of construct to justify actions that have, or have yet to, take place to provide a moral reasoning … which is … a contradiction …", Treylar's words start to trail off before he asks, “… why are you smiling at me?”
Catherine responds with, "Well, I knew I could goad something intelligent out of you! It is good to, finally, meet a philosophy graduate. That is who you are, isn't it?"
Treylar responds with a sort of wincing expression on his face at first and adjusts himself to a more comfortable position in his chair, "I feel … dirty, now after that. Philosophical debates and Harvard curriculum all seem so … utterly pointless now. That’s not who I am ... not anymore."
Catherine asks, "Mr. Evans … from time to time we all lose our way in life, but I do not think that is a good enough reason why the American courts allowed a convicted criminal to leave. I think this would be a good path for us to start exploring."
The video shows Treylar reaching to take out a cigarette from his pack from the side of the video, lights it, and takes a long slow drag before responding, "Are you wanting a walk-through or something?”
Catherine replies with a slight shaking in her voice, “If you think that would help me to understand the events that took place; then so be it.”
Treylar takes another drag before exhaling, “Ok, let me answer your first question about a war. There was no war in Boston. Someone died ... I’m pretty sure is called murder over on this side of the Atlantic too." He gets up from the table and heads toward a cabinet near the sink.
Catherine quickly questions, “I thought we would go the rest of this session without the need for a drink Mr. Evans?"
Treylar quips back, "I am only getting a drink of water. It's called a side effect."Treylar continues to open the cabinet door to get an empty glass and then walks to the sink and fills it with cold water from the tap He takes several large drinks before refilling it and walking back to the table and sitting down again. By now, Treylar is feeling the painkiller's full effect and his posturing has a deeply relaxed appearance.
Catherine begins with, "Ah, I see. I also notice that your drugs are working now."
Treylar responds blissfully , "Yes it is!"
Catherine adds, "Well, you had better get used to it while you can. In time it will take more than just a few to reach this point. Then once your tolerance builds up your body will become subject to respiratory depression, or worse yet, brain damage should you overdose."
Since he sat back down Treylar has been turning it back and forth watching the surface tension of the water up against the glass. Watching how the water ripples react to movement as the glass is shifted around. He is watching this for a second before finally responding, "Yeah, I know ... don't remind me about that. It's amazing how just a simple chemical change can help change someone's thought process ..."
Catherine interrupts, "Mr. Evans, I think I will be the one who determines how to help change someone's thought process."
"Yeah, but this way helps me cope a lot easier.", Treylar adds with a slight chuckle.
Catherine quizzes, “Helps you cope? Huh, that does not sound like the words from a stone killer. How could a person of your caliber use a label like that to describe yourself? Even you must realize, given your education, that label is not logical for your situation.”
Treylar folds his arms together across his chest before adding, “I may be high on the effects of painkillers, but I am not fooled by your trickery either. You are once again building a false construct to pass artificial judgment which has been deemed as false from the very beginning. As a reminder, all moral meaning will be solely based upon the ‘right-or-wrong’ values that you apply in the beginning of the construct.”
A barely audible sound is heard just after Treylar’s response.
At first you almost dismiss this sound as some kind of background noise, but before the video plays any too much further, you decide that an investigation is warranted. It takes several attempts of rewinding and playback along with many volume and sound level adjustments before what is muttered under Catherine’s breath is finally understood, “Christ!”
Once the audio setting are changed back to normal you continue to watch the remainder of the video.
A brief moment passes while Catherine regroups before asking, “Alright then, can we agree that our future sessions are not about any type of moral witch-hunt?”
Treylar nods his head in agreement while saying, “Sure, I agree.”
“Excellent!”, Catherine replies and then adds another question, “Can we agree that our future sessions are not about any form justification to the events that led you here?”
Treylar nods his head in agreement again while saying, “Sure, I agree.”
Catherine builds upon her success by asking a final direct question, "Excellent! Although I do have one last question before we end today."
Treylar responds by unfolding his arms and resuming a more relaxed posture again before saying, "Ok, I will provide an answer as long as the question is direct, and to the point. Please Doc, if you want me to believe that you are here to 'help' me; no more word play, psycho-bullshit ... just simply ask what it is you want to know."
Catherine pauses for a moment, "Why ... why do you feel that you deserve a label like that? A type of scarlet letter, if you will."
Treylar nods his head before answering, "That is a very good question, indeed ...", he then turns his head away from the camera to notice something in the bedroom before turning back to address Catherine and to put down his lit cigarette outside of the view of the camera, "... I will answer your question as I take us back to the bedroom."
You see the background start to shake around a bit as Treylar stands, and picks up the tablet from the table and attempts to gently walk, and talk, while trying to keep himself still in view while going from the kitchen and into the bedroom, "It was the realization of something that I had originally learned in one of my philosophy classes, and looking back now, it finally makes sense."
The background shakes around a bit more as Treylar gets on to the bed and finally stops once he sets his tablet down in front of the tarot cards that the fortune teller prostitute dealt out.
Treylar sits down, cross-legged, in view of the camera, but with the stack of tarot cards between him and the tablet. He then slides is right hand under the cards that are stacked on a hard backed book.
He then carefully lifts the book and positions it so that the cards are in clear view of the camera without in danger of sliding off onto the bed.
Finally he draws a deep breath before answering, "Friedrich Nietzshe once wrote ... 'God is dead. God remains dead. And we have killed him. Yet his shadow still looms. How shall we comfort ourselves, the murderers of all murderers? What was holiest and mightiest of all that the world has yet owned has bled to death under our knives: who will wipe this blood off us? What water is there for us to clean ourselves? What festivals of atonement, what sacred games shall we have to invent? Is not the greatness of this deed too great for us? Must we ourselves not become gods simply to appear worthy of it?' ", he draws another breath before continuing, "The events that occurred in Boston not only proved to me that god is dead, but also my new found abilities at the time would seem 'godlike' to ANY normal human ... if god truly is dead, then this means that everything we put any grain of faith in, is ... pointless ... meaningless, and false."
Treylar then tosses the book with the tarot cards over his shoulder, and scattering all of the cards into the air of the bedroom; the sound of the hard backed book is heard hitting the wall behind Treylar while the tarot cards rain down landing all around him on the bed. He then reaches over to the night stand to retrieve his whiskey bottle.
While his back is turned a single tarot card is seen landing on his right knee.
Treylar turns back to the camera with bottle in hand, and allows a moment for both the demonstration to sink in before finishing, "Innocent blood was spilled not because I was trying to appear to be godlike, but rather because I was trying to BE godlike. So the ultimate answer to your question is because god is dead ... I killed him too."
A long uncomfortable silence occurs, and during this time, Treylar tips up the bottle and gulps down several large swallows of whiskey from the bottle before setting it back down.
Catherine finally breaks the awkward moment by asking only, "What card is that on your knee?"
Treylar looks down at the card and then gives it a puzzled look.
"Well? Are you going to show it to me, or not?", she asks.
Treylar continues with a confused look while picks up the card slowly, and without a word, he turns the face of it towards the camera showing the front of the 9 swords card. This time it was dealt to him upright.
Catherine simply replies with, "It looks like god does live after all.", she pauses briefly, "After this breakthrough, I think this would be an excellent point to conclude ..."
The video ends here.
Therapy Video Log
Re: Therapy Video Log
The video of the second session begins by showing Treylar seated in one of the chairs around his small dining table in the kitchen of his flat in London while lighting a cigarette. He is leaning against the back of the chair, and looks as if he has just has gotten out of bed. His hair is messy, and his face is more unshaven than usual. The right side of his temple, and cheek is covered by a dark red impression of the fabric that covers the arm of the sofa where he slept. Large dark circles under his half open, and bloodshot eyes; which is a sign that he did not sleep for long. The familiar sound of coffee brewing is heard in the background.
Like the first video, the video is missing from Catherine’s webcam.
Catherine begins with a perky tone in her voice which gradually decrescendos to her normal tone, “I see that we are going to have a very different start than last time. A month has gone by since our last meeting, and I was beginning to wonder if you were going to skipping out on the rest of your sessions.”
Treylar take a drag from his cigarette before setting it down in the ashtray just out of view. He slowly exhales before responding, “I apologize for my appearance; I got back to London about 4:00 am, local time, and clearly over slept. Field operations usually prevent me from calling to set up a time to meet. Most of the places I have been to lately don’t have the greatest of cell service. When I do get back here, I usually end up crashing on the sofa by the front door for about five or six hours of sleep before my phone rings again.”
Catherine’s voice sounds somewhat annoyed as she responds, “Yes, I’ve had a chat with Mr. Sonnac about your duty times, and I’ve been assured that will not be a problem today.”
Treylar’s eyes open a little more upon hearing three beeps coming from the coffeemaker on the kitchen counter behind him signaling that there is now fresh coffee waiting, “Finally! Coffee!”
An analogy could be drawn to how Treylar rises from his chair, and stumbles to toward the counter as ‘The Dead Coming to Life.’
He places his left hand flat on the counter to steady himself while using the other to pour the freshly brewed dark coffee into a large cup; which was waiting patiently beside the coffee maker. It takes several failed attempts to place the pot back on its warming plate before succeeding to finally bring the cup to his mouth to take a few large steaming hot sips.
Treylar turns and begins walking back to his seat at the kitchen table. During his more composed few steps back to the table he blinks his eye several times, and tilts his head to the side to stretch out the strained muscles in his neck from his adventure of sleeping on the couch; letting out a few groans of relief along the way.
“Rough night, Mr. Evans?,” Catherine asks while Treylar is once again taking a few more large swallows of hot coffee after regaining his seat at the kitchen table.
He takes a few more large gulps of coffee, “Gaaghh! Damn hot!, “ Treylar exclaims while setting down his cup, ”No, but I’m going to need a better couch if I’m going to keep sleeping on it.”, he says as he leans back into the chair using his left arm to rub the back of his neck his.
Catherine responds, “It would appear so. Judging by your actions, that you are not on any form of prescription pain medication. Really Mr. Evans; no drugs?”
With his head tilted down, Treylar stops for a brief moment to look up flashing a glare into the camera before continuing, “They are in a cabinet across the room. I haven’t had any since our last session … don’t remind me they are there. Can we please just get started?”
Catherine begins with her first question to start the session, “Wow! That is good to hear. I have read your background, what little of it there is. What was your life like before joining the templars?”
Treylar had stopped rubbing his neck to once again take a sip of coffee and another drag from his cigarette, while Catherine was asking her question. Once she has finished he looks into the camera before answering, “Have you ever been to a circus where you are able to walk around before the show starts and can actually be with the animals up close? To truly see and smell the difference between a tiger and a bear?”
Catherine responds back simply, “No, I have not.”
A brief lull in the conversation occurs while Treylar glances down to quickly recall these events, and many others from his childhood, “Then no amount of explanation I can give you can describe my life. Some things must be experienced.”
“Please! You’re making an awful lot out of living like a ‘Traveller’ from the U.S.”, Catherine scoffs, “The circus, and sideshow acts are nothing new in Britain. For the most part they are known for serious neglect, and for making a mockery out of those who do not ‘fit’ in with society.”
Angrily, Treylar slams his fist onto the table, jostling his tablet in the process, “My parents financed and cared for the entire troupe. EVERYONE that we took in was considered family! Not one animal went without the best food, or finest of care! Not one person went without the proper housing, clothes, food, and medical care!”
Treylar takes a moment to calm himself down so that he can be taken more seriously, “Every performer, every stage hand, or animal handler was treated with the utmost respect and dignity. Everyone was an important integral piece to the entire show. Each year the circus cost my parents tens of thousands of dollars, and all of it was because they enjoyed being the experience of The Circus. All forms of wondrous magic tricks being performed at less than an arms length. To see the wonder in every person’s eyes in the crowd, and to hear the awesome sound of amazement, and thunderous applause at the completion of every stunt, trick, or illusion. He leans in towards the camera, “Let me ask you this: Have you ever been apart of something that defies logical explanation? Have you even seen a magic trick that defies explanation?"
Catherine quickly objects, “This is hardly the time for cheap parlour tricks and sleight-of-hand.”
Treylar forces back a yawn before replying, “Just give it a minute; you’ll be impressed.” He then turns his head to look around the room, and quickly spots the 9 of Swords card that is being held on to front of the refrigerator by a magnet.
He then turns back to the camera to pick up his tablet and walks over to the fridge, “Here is the 9 of Swords card from our first session. As you can see it is being held to the fridge by a magnet.”, Using his free hand to pull the magnet away; the card spins, and twirls through the air before landing on the kitchen floor.
Treylar then bends down to pick up the card while showing it to Catherine, “As you can see, the card is real; it has depth and is not a sticker, projected image, or forgery in any way. Would you agree?”
“Yes I would agree that is a real card”, Catherine responds back.
The tablet with the camera is about two feet away from the left side of the fridge when Treylar places the card back on the outer door. The camera clearly shows that the pointer finger of his right hand is holding the card firmly in place against the door, and part of that forearm.
“Just a sec, let me use my other hand.” Treylar says just before his left hand and arm come into view; taking the magnet from his right hand, and placing it over the card. Both arms then let go of the card and his left arm slides out of view. The camera on the tablet then is tilted up to see Treylar’s face before he continues, “Ok, you’re going to have to pay close attention; these will come at you fast.”
Catherine stumbles for a moment searching for words, “Wa .. Wha ... Now ... who was...”
While Catherine was at a loss for words, Treylar interrupts, “Please hold all applause or comments until the end.”, he has stepped back to the kitchen table, and placed the tablet back in its original location. The fridge and card are still clearly seen in the left side of the video.
Once satisfied with the camera’s position, Treylar again takes his seat in the chair so that he appears just to the right of the fridge; trying to hide a smile he adds, “Ok, I usually do this with about eight or so people standing around doing the same thing. So this shouldn’t be a problem … well, at least I hope it won’t”, he finishes with a nervous chuckle before continuing.
Treylar turns his torso a quarter of the way around to rest his right elbow on the table and aligns his forearm so that his right hand is now partially blocking Catherine’s view of the card. Then he raises the palm of his right hand, with his finger extended outward so that his fingers and the back of his hand are all that Catherine sees.
He turns back to address Catherine, “Now, I will make the card disappear from the fridge by crumpling it up in my hand. However, in order to do that ... the card will have to be against my palm first. Once I have the card wadded up in my hand, I am going to have you participate for the completion of this ‘cheap parlor trick’. Are you ready?”
“Oh really … well then, by all means, continue.”, Catherine snorts.
While still looking to address the camera Treylar smiles slightly before saying, “Ok, now watch closely.”, He turns his head to look directly at his hand, and then begins to slowly move his fingers inward as if wadding up a sheet of thick paper.
As his fingers start to move inward, the sound of the magnet landing on the floor can be heard. It is slowly revealed, that the 9 of Swords card has apparently vanished from the front of refrigerator door. He continues until he has made a fist with his hand until only the back of his hand is in full view of the camera.
Treylar turns back to address Catherine again, “Ok, now I want you to make a tight fist. It must be a really tight fist for this to work.”
Catherine finally says, “This is silly …”
Treylar interrupts, “Ok, now I will complete the final portion of this illusion by using my mental powers to instantly teleport the crumpled card in my hand … to yours. For this, I need to you concentrate your gaze on your hand. Do not take your eyes off of it. Just imagine catching a small ball of paper in your hand.”
A half of a second of silence passes before Catherine’s excited voice is heard, “WHOA! FUCK!!”, which is simultaneously followed by myriad of sounds happening all at once: a chair hitting the floor from falling over, small objects landing on the floor, and papers rustling as they are spilled out.
Treylar is hardly able to contain his laughter, “I thought you were going to wipe everything off the top of your desk … and by the way …”, he opens his hand to reveal that the card is now no longer in his possession, “ … in your excitement, I think you dropped something on your desk.”
Awe can be heard from Catherine’s voice before her words trail off. As well as the sound of her unfolding the card, “I ... It’s the 9 of Swords card that …”
The expression on Treylar’s face slowly fades to seriousness as he speaks, “That was what my life was like … before. Every day was filled with wonder, amazement, and joy of the mysteries of life … of living … of believing the impossible does indeed happen. So, to conclude our session today … again, just simply ask what it is that you want to know.”
A moment of silence occurs before the video ends.
Like the first video, the video is missing from Catherine’s webcam.
Catherine begins with a perky tone in her voice which gradually decrescendos to her normal tone, “I see that we are going to have a very different start than last time. A month has gone by since our last meeting, and I was beginning to wonder if you were going to skipping out on the rest of your sessions.”
Treylar take a drag from his cigarette before setting it down in the ashtray just out of view. He slowly exhales before responding, “I apologize for my appearance; I got back to London about 4:00 am, local time, and clearly over slept. Field operations usually prevent me from calling to set up a time to meet. Most of the places I have been to lately don’t have the greatest of cell service. When I do get back here, I usually end up crashing on the sofa by the front door for about five or six hours of sleep before my phone rings again.”
Catherine’s voice sounds somewhat annoyed as she responds, “Yes, I’ve had a chat with Mr. Sonnac about your duty times, and I’ve been assured that will not be a problem today.”
Treylar’s eyes open a little more upon hearing three beeps coming from the coffeemaker on the kitchen counter behind him signaling that there is now fresh coffee waiting, “Finally! Coffee!”
An analogy could be drawn to how Treylar rises from his chair, and stumbles to toward the counter as ‘The Dead Coming to Life.’
He places his left hand flat on the counter to steady himself while using the other to pour the freshly brewed dark coffee into a large cup; which was waiting patiently beside the coffee maker. It takes several failed attempts to place the pot back on its warming plate before succeeding to finally bring the cup to his mouth to take a few large steaming hot sips.
Treylar turns and begins walking back to his seat at the kitchen table. During his more composed few steps back to the table he blinks his eye several times, and tilts his head to the side to stretch out the strained muscles in his neck from his adventure of sleeping on the couch; letting out a few groans of relief along the way.
“Rough night, Mr. Evans?,” Catherine asks while Treylar is once again taking a few more large swallows of hot coffee after regaining his seat at the kitchen table.
He takes a few more large gulps of coffee, “Gaaghh! Damn hot!, “ Treylar exclaims while setting down his cup, ”No, but I’m going to need a better couch if I’m going to keep sleeping on it.”, he says as he leans back into the chair using his left arm to rub the back of his neck his.
Catherine responds, “It would appear so. Judging by your actions, that you are not on any form of prescription pain medication. Really Mr. Evans; no drugs?”
With his head tilted down, Treylar stops for a brief moment to look up flashing a glare into the camera before continuing, “They are in a cabinet across the room. I haven’t had any since our last session … don’t remind me they are there. Can we please just get started?”
Catherine begins with her first question to start the session, “Wow! That is good to hear. I have read your background, what little of it there is. What was your life like before joining the templars?”
Treylar had stopped rubbing his neck to once again take a sip of coffee and another drag from his cigarette, while Catherine was asking her question. Once she has finished he looks into the camera before answering, “Have you ever been to a circus where you are able to walk around before the show starts and can actually be with the animals up close? To truly see and smell the difference between a tiger and a bear?”
Catherine responds back simply, “No, I have not.”
A brief lull in the conversation occurs while Treylar glances down to quickly recall these events, and many others from his childhood, “Then no amount of explanation I can give you can describe my life. Some things must be experienced.”
“Please! You’re making an awful lot out of living like a ‘Traveller’ from the U.S.”, Catherine scoffs, “The circus, and sideshow acts are nothing new in Britain. For the most part they are known for serious neglect, and for making a mockery out of those who do not ‘fit’ in with society.”
Angrily, Treylar slams his fist onto the table, jostling his tablet in the process, “My parents financed and cared for the entire troupe. EVERYONE that we took in was considered family! Not one animal went without the best food, or finest of care! Not one person went without the proper housing, clothes, food, and medical care!”
Treylar takes a moment to calm himself down so that he can be taken more seriously, “Every performer, every stage hand, or animal handler was treated with the utmost respect and dignity. Everyone was an important integral piece to the entire show. Each year the circus cost my parents tens of thousands of dollars, and all of it was because they enjoyed being the experience of The Circus. All forms of wondrous magic tricks being performed at less than an arms length. To see the wonder in every person’s eyes in the crowd, and to hear the awesome sound of amazement, and thunderous applause at the completion of every stunt, trick, or illusion. He leans in towards the camera, “Let me ask you this: Have you ever been apart of something that defies logical explanation? Have you even seen a magic trick that defies explanation?"
Catherine quickly objects, “This is hardly the time for cheap parlour tricks and sleight-of-hand.”
Treylar forces back a yawn before replying, “Just give it a minute; you’ll be impressed.” He then turns his head to look around the room, and quickly spots the 9 of Swords card that is being held on to front of the refrigerator by a magnet.
He then turns back to the camera to pick up his tablet and walks over to the fridge, “Here is the 9 of Swords card from our first session. As you can see it is being held to the fridge by a magnet.”, Using his free hand to pull the magnet away; the card spins, and twirls through the air before landing on the kitchen floor.
Treylar then bends down to pick up the card while showing it to Catherine, “As you can see, the card is real; it has depth and is not a sticker, projected image, or forgery in any way. Would you agree?”
“Yes I would agree that is a real card”, Catherine responds back.
The tablet with the camera is about two feet away from the left side of the fridge when Treylar places the card back on the outer door. The camera clearly shows that the pointer finger of his right hand is holding the card firmly in place against the door, and part of that forearm.
“Just a sec, let me use my other hand.” Treylar says just before his left hand and arm come into view; taking the magnet from his right hand, and placing it over the card. Both arms then let go of the card and his left arm slides out of view. The camera on the tablet then is tilted up to see Treylar’s face before he continues, “Ok, you’re going to have to pay close attention; these will come at you fast.”
Catherine stumbles for a moment searching for words, “Wa .. Wha ... Now ... who was...”
While Catherine was at a loss for words, Treylar interrupts, “Please hold all applause or comments until the end.”, he has stepped back to the kitchen table, and placed the tablet back in its original location. The fridge and card are still clearly seen in the left side of the video.
Once satisfied with the camera’s position, Treylar again takes his seat in the chair so that he appears just to the right of the fridge; trying to hide a smile he adds, “Ok, I usually do this with about eight or so people standing around doing the same thing. So this shouldn’t be a problem … well, at least I hope it won’t”, he finishes with a nervous chuckle before continuing.
Treylar turns his torso a quarter of the way around to rest his right elbow on the table and aligns his forearm so that his right hand is now partially blocking Catherine’s view of the card. Then he raises the palm of his right hand, with his finger extended outward so that his fingers and the back of his hand are all that Catherine sees.
He turns back to address Catherine, “Now, I will make the card disappear from the fridge by crumpling it up in my hand. However, in order to do that ... the card will have to be against my palm first. Once I have the card wadded up in my hand, I am going to have you participate for the completion of this ‘cheap parlor trick’. Are you ready?”
“Oh really … well then, by all means, continue.”, Catherine snorts.
While still looking to address the camera Treylar smiles slightly before saying, “Ok, now watch closely.”, He turns his head to look directly at his hand, and then begins to slowly move his fingers inward as if wadding up a sheet of thick paper.
As his fingers start to move inward, the sound of the magnet landing on the floor can be heard. It is slowly revealed, that the 9 of Swords card has apparently vanished from the front of refrigerator door. He continues until he has made a fist with his hand until only the back of his hand is in full view of the camera.
Treylar turns back to address Catherine again, “Ok, now I want you to make a tight fist. It must be a really tight fist for this to work.”
Catherine finally says, “This is silly …”
Treylar interrupts, “Ok, now I will complete the final portion of this illusion by using my mental powers to instantly teleport the crumpled card in my hand … to yours. For this, I need to you concentrate your gaze on your hand. Do not take your eyes off of it. Just imagine catching a small ball of paper in your hand.”
A half of a second of silence passes before Catherine’s excited voice is heard, “WHOA! FUCK!!”, which is simultaneously followed by myriad of sounds happening all at once: a chair hitting the floor from falling over, small objects landing on the floor, and papers rustling as they are spilled out.
Treylar is hardly able to contain his laughter, “I thought you were going to wipe everything off the top of your desk … and by the way …”, he opens his hand to reveal that the card is now no longer in his possession, “ … in your excitement, I think you dropped something on your desk.”
Awe can be heard from Catherine’s voice before her words trail off. As well as the sound of her unfolding the card, “I ... It’s the 9 of Swords card that …”
The expression on Treylar’s face slowly fades to seriousness as he speaks, “That was what my life was like … before. Every day was filled with wonder, amazement, and joy of the mysteries of life … of living … of believing the impossible does indeed happen. So, to conclude our session today … again, just simply ask what it is that you want to know.”
A moment of silence occurs before the video ends.
Re: Therapy Video Log
This video begins by showing Treylar seated motionless once again at his kitchen table. His eyes opened a bit wider than normal, and intently staring into the camera on his tablet.
“You’re loaded aren’t you?” Catherine asks with the sound of disappointment in her voice.
His motionless expression remains fixed for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, “Was hoping you wouldn’t notice too much but ... Hell yeah-I-am! Don’t tell nobody,” Treylar says before beginning to chuckle again before almost falling out of the chair.
Catherine gives a deep sigh of frustration before she continues, “This session is over! I will not …”
“NO!” Treylar interjects, “Don’t give me the sigh of death! I have to be here. I’m making an ex’cu … an ex-cute …,” his enunciation falters due to his intoxicated state.
“Executive?” Catherine quickly corrects.
“Yeah that, I’m making that … an’ don’t tell Treylar, he’ll be pissed!” he sputters while drunkenly pointing his index finger towards the camera.
This clearly infuriates Catherine as she begins to scold, “Mr. Evans! Need I remind you, that you have tested negative for multiple personality, or dissociative identity disorder. Please do not think you can …”
“I-KNOW, I-know,” Treylar says, interrupting, “That’s jus’ a game. Those tests suck ass! Can be mani-plata-ted if ya know what t'do.” He then reaches out of the view of the camera to retrieve a bottle of pills before dumping two into his other hand.
“Please! Do not …,” Treylar has downed the pills before Catherine can finish, and is taking several chugs from a bottle of whiskey that he had retrieved from just out of view of the camera a moment before.
Catherine calls for a point-of-order by slamming her notepad down on the table, “If you want to continue down this path then fine! I haven’t been able to stop you thus far anyway, but, I do NOT agree --or condone-- your behavior."
Immediately after Catherine finishes Treylar belches to signal a wordless defiant response before returning the bottle to its original position out of view.
Completely unimpressed by his behavior Catherine retorts, "That’s just, CLASSIC! REALLY Classic, Mr. Evans. Well, I should inform you that I've done a bit of my own homework, and I finally have something for you."
In disbelief Treylar responds while attempting to seem more sober than he actually is, "Well, 'hat IZ som'thing Doc.", he leans forward onto the kitchen table resting on his forearms, "What do ya ‘ave for me?"
Catherine confidently responds, "A small quote:
While attempting not to chuckle too much at his own distraction Treylar adds, "I'm not accused of committing adultery Doc."
Catherine continues to stay on topic by completely ignoring Treylar’s last comment, "That is exactly what I see in your eyes during our sessions ... someone who as lost faith … and is looking for a way out. You say that you want to talk, and need help ... well, now is the time!"
Treylar’s demeanor changes visibly more serious as the anima in his body breaks down the concoction of prescription drugs, and alcohol. His eyes glance down, and back, from a random spot on the floor before finally admitting, "Not a way out ... a path for redemption, penance, atonement … new life born out of suffering. All of which are different meanings to the Nine of Swords card being drawn upright.
“Just the other day, I was drawn to a cabal called Nine Swords.
“All of these interconnected events have been happening since the card was drawn a few weeks ago. I can’t save my soul, but I want to sleep at night without seeing that alley in Boston.”
A single large hollow sounding thud is heard coming from Catherine’s office in the video. To Catherine, who is intently is concentrating on Treylar’s every word; this sudden event has the same effect as a gunshot and startling her in the process.
Treylar instinctively asks, “What was that?”
Catherine's voice sounds somewhat confused, “A book fell, from behind me. I know that it was lying flat on the table ... I was using it to smooth out the card from your magic trick the other day, but now the book is on the floor, and open to where I stuffed the card.”
“Really? Which way is the card pointed? Right-side up?” he says while arching his right eyebrow in suspicion.
“No, it is ... upside down," she responds.
Treylar rolls his eyes in a sarcastic expression, “Figures."
There is an awkward pause in the conversation with no explanation from Treylar about the context of his response until broken by Catherine; who wants to get back on topic, “Ok then … so, exactly what happened in Boston?”
Treylar finally begins his confession, “After receiving my anima, I had this … this incredible thirst, or ... craving for knowledge of anything related to firearms. Pistols, shotguns, rifles; it didn’t matter … I had to know everything about them. This desire caused me to spend about three days soaking up all of the knowledge I could find from watching YouTube videos. From there it grew into self-defense with bladed weapons ... swords always seemed cool, so I spent three more days watching old Kung-Fu movies. As I mimicked the moves I saw in the movies … I loosely understood what those moves meant.”
Once again, Treylar reaches over, to retrieve the whiskey bottle out of view, for a round of liquid courage before continuing. This time he holds onto the bottle as his arm lower into his lap, "It was about sunset on the sixth day when hunger pains finally brought me to my senses. All of the food in the apartment was gone, and I had … reservations, about going out. Something about the night ... called out to me, but also ... gave a cause for alarm.
“It was dark by the time I cleaned up, and headed out into the cold October night air. My plan was to avoid as many other people ... and stay in the alleys on my way to get some pizza from Regina's; a place a couple of blocks away from my apartment. So, I placed an online order and headed out ... it was a kind of a cold evening, so I was able to wear a jacket to conceal a bowie knife my father had given me at my graduation ... but I ended up running into someone," Treylar scoffs at his choice of words, "... more like she caught up with me."
Upon realizing the words that he is about to say aloud; Treylar raises his chin to look at the ceiling as he recalls the details of the events in Boston. He sighs before looking down back into the camera, "I had randomly seen her around the area ... off and on, sometimes every day. We would lock eyes every time ... until that night we'd never spoken to each other."
A slight smile comes across Treylar's face as pleasant memories begin to fill his mind, "Her name was Lydia. She caught up to me about halfway to Regina's ... I don't know how long she had been following, but she decided to surprise me just before I was about to turn onto Thatcher Street.
“She had soft voice … when she wasn't making me think I was about to get robbed, 'GIVE-IT-UP SUCKA!' was the first few words she said to me. The complete surprise caused me to push her back away from me … and somehow I attempted to channel an elemental fire attack … but I quickly found out that I couldn't stop."
Treylar brings the bottle of whiskey to his lips again for another swallow, "I collapsed down onto my knees on the cold pavement in the alley. My hands were clinched into fists so tightly that my fingernails broke through my skin. My arms and legs were drawn into my body to where I could feel the pain from the muscle tissue as they began to tear … I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t stop the channel ... even the knife I had tucked in the small of my back was heating up. It felt as if I was about to boil from the inside out ... until I felt the pressure of her hand on my back, and her voice filled my ears, 'Breathe, concentrate on breathing slow ...," her voice seemed to be a guiding light ... her touch on my back, through the jacket and hoodie I was wearing felt cool, and calming.
“When I was able to walk a bit, she helped … hell who am I kidding … she drug my sorry ass a short distance back down the alley and I remember hitting the wall between two large dumpsters to conceal my current state. I don’t know how long it was until I finally regained my senses, and afterwards I felt as if I had tried to run a marathon while doing a handstand.
‘You're a hot guy, but DAUUMMm!’ she said which made me laugh as she helped me back to my feet. ‘Looks like I’m not the only one around here with new talents,’ she said. Her hand began to glow a greenish color as she placed it on my chest. Like before, I could feel a soothing aura around her hand on the outside of my shirt spreading outwards … in only a few seconds I felt as if my event had never taken place.”
Treylar pauses to again drink from his bottle of whiskey before finally setting it down back out of view of the camera, ”I don’t know why I keep drinking this shit .. not like it’s working.”
“Take it as proof that you are stronger than that,” Catherine finally says while catching up on notes she has been taking, “you know, as well as I, that you can hold back the anima from healing yourself for only just so long.”
“Shit!,” Treylar scoffs, before continuing, “anyway, we finally made our introductions, and that's when I found out that her name was Lydia Rossi, and that she had an interesting dream about a bee a few days before.
“We talked in the alley for a few minutes before I finally asked her to join me for some pizza.
“From there we made our way to Regina's, picked up the order, and ate while we made our way back near my apartment. We spent about a half hour talking after arriving back at my building when we both heard strange laughter coming from somewhere down the street.”
Treylar takes a deep breath, and exhales before continuing, ”At first I contributed the laughter to be the local Wine-o that usually hung around the area … but it continued, and grew closer and more maniacal.
“As the sound of laughter grew closer … I made quite a few glances over my shoulder, and around the area only to find … nothing.
“I had no idea what time it was ... late enough to where Lydia, and myself were the only ones out on the street by now. It was a cold October evening … as we stood there and theorized about the origin if the laughter; the temperature had dipped down to where we could see our breath in the night air ... which was lit by a street light from across the street. The laughing sound had gone on long enough to allow both of us to turn to face towards its origin … but we saw nothing but the empty street. The longer we delayed, the closer it became … then it stopped.”
Catherine quickly shuffles her paper around and continues writing notes in another notebook furiously.
“We both must’ve stood there for … about a minute, then from the alleyway next to my building I saw what looked to be a head peak around the corner at us, and quickly turn back. I didn’t have time to ask, ‘What was that?’ before Lydia was heading towards the entrance to alley.
“The alley next to my building had never been a place I like to frequent, but that night found both of us turning into it. At one point, Lydia turned back to me as if to signal that she didn’t want to be here, but seeing me there with her … seemed … comforting.
“We were about to around and head back out when the form of a specter took shape from behind … it laughed to clue us in that we were in its trap. Neither of us really knew what to do at this point, but it was clear that we weren’t going without a fight. I was closer to it than Lydia ... who had taken a defensive stance on the right side of me. I turned my left side more towards the Specter to allow my right hand to reach back and grip the handle of the bowie knife that was stashed in the waist of my jeans.
“I had read books, seen stories on TV, and the internet of paranormal accounts, but nothing really prepares you for the actual event. The night air seemed colder now that it had taken a corporal form. Its dead cavities for eyes pierced through into my soul as it hovered a few feet above the ground. It was dressed in a suit from … the forties, maybe fifties … it was dingy, and tattered with its arms distortedly sticking out of the sleeves of the jacket.
“That’s when the standoff between the specter, and us began … I remember hearing Lydia breaking the silence from my right, ’What-the fuck do we do?’, in a soft voice that was only louder whisper as not to tip off our assailant who was about 20 feet away. I responded that I didn’t know; which probably was more like a grunting sound.
“My fingers had just tightened my hold on the hilt of my knife when it charged toward Lydia. Being either noble, or ridiculously stupid, I drew the bowie knife, and slashed forward into the specters right forearm; which cut deeply. The wound spewed a thick black looking substance while it retreated hissing, and screaming.
“There was an all too brief moment of shock from me while I looked down at the knife. Some kind of black substance covered the blade, but some of it was also on my hand, and the sleeve of my hoodie. I quickly realized that my combat inexperience led to coming into contact with … whatever it was.”
“You came into direct contact with Filth,” Catherine quickly interjects,” and haven’t been turned into a Draug?! Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“THAT, is a different story …,” Treylar pauses as he reaches over for a cigarette, and lighter before putting the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.
Treylar takes a drag before exhaling, filling the kitchen with tobacco smoke. He lets out another deep sigh before continuing, “I figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to come into contact with any more … but by the time I looked back up … the specter was charging towards me. I didn’t have time to react before it was upon me ... I was taken off my feet with a single backhanded swing from its wounded arm across the temple on the right side of my head leaving a smear of the thick dark fluid.
“I guess I was thrown against the brick wall of my building. As I picked myself up, the world seemed fuzzy for a second, before clearing up … and I see that the specter has moved on and is now grasped Lydia by the throat. The sight of seeing the life being choked out of her several feet off the ground enrages me."
The lit end of Treylar's cigarette glows bright orange as he takes another drag, "I gather up the bowie knife that was knocked out of my right hand, and quickly dash forward to plunge it deep into the side of the specter ... most of all, it was the only thing I thought that could save Lydia's life.
“I could feel tiny amounts of Filth spray ... onto my, neck and face ... as the blade forcefully cut into its side.
“I remember hearing the ghoul; howl out in pain ... most importantly, my actions caused it to release his grip on Lydia's throat ... which promptly sent her gasping for air onto the ground.
“The wounded creature spun around to its right and promptly grabbed me by the neck before pinning me against the wall to its left ... that's when I felt ... when it ...," Treylar lowers his head before taking another puff from his cigarette, "... when the possession occurred.
“I had managed to struggle free enough to try to say one word as loud as I could to Lydia ...,'RUN!' That was also the last thing I could do of my own free will ...” Treylar leans forward to rest his forearms on the table, “... my own conscience was pushed aside despite my efforts to regain control. As I fought inside my own head, I watched as the specter turned back to Lydia ... and began its assault on her.
“From the prison for my own body I watched as it ... as I, almost choked the life out of her. I watched her eyes start to grow dim then seeing her near lifeless body thrown down the alley like trash. I heard my own crazed laughter echoing off the alley's walls before looking down to see that I still had the knife in my right hand.
“The creature that controlled my body began walking towards Lydia who was not moving. She had first hit a large dumpster, which before landing on her side, facing me. I could see the horror in her eyes as I slowly drew closer against my will ... unable to stop ... after I had approached her somewhat half-alive body, the only memories are ... her deafening screams, and warm blood on my skin.
“Her death was agonizingly slow ... every stab and cut was ... planned to cause pain and suffering. I watched in terror as a single tear rolled out of the corner of her eye."
"My god!" Catherine exclaims as Treylar pauses succumbing to the urge to consume more drugs, and to finish off the remaining alcohol.
“Shortly after the creature realized she was sufficiently dead, he looked upon her mutilated body ... I felt my heart break as I watched the steam from her still warm body rise into the night air. The horrific scene symbolically looked as if her spirit was leaving her body.
“From within my own mind I began screaming; not out of pain, but in anger ... hatred ... rage ... nothing but pure rage. Soon it grew past my own heart and mind ... I felt the fire that was now burning in my own soul to purge this dark abomination who had taken control ... who had caused me to murder. I had lost total control over the anima within me that was now fueled by the pain of a broken heart.
“As pure anima began pouring in from around me ... I felt the specters control fade and weaken ... soon I was pushing against the dark entity ... killing it slowly ... letting it feel its own life force being drain away ... dragging the dark into the light.
“I forced it hear its own screams of pain and suffering.
“At some point, the area around us began to get hotter and hotter ... the same exact event that Lydia had sheltered me from earlier that night. Remembering hearing her words added fuel to the fire ... the realization that I would never be able to hear her voice again added even more.
“Everything I saw turned from being in color to white ... until I eventually felt the creature’s presence crushed ... but the channeling rage continued ... burning everything around the area where I was standing in the alley ... until finally being released upwards into the sky."
Treylar leans back against the chair as he again feels the effects of his drug and liquor mixture.
The next thing I know is that I'm handcuffed in the back of a cop car ... and I hear voices around the car talking about the crime I am accused of ... of how my fingerprints are in dried blood on the weapon ... that there are eyewitnesses that saw the whole event. I heard many people curse my name ... I saw Lydia's mother weeping after having to identify the remains of her daughter."
Treylar takes out another cigarette and lights it, "At long last I heard a very different voice ... my own, and I was reminded of a quote I heard. This became a focusing point for the pain the specter had caused.
Psalms 40: 15th verse:
“Yes, I am broken ..."
The video ends here.
“You’re loaded aren’t you?” Catherine asks with the sound of disappointment in her voice.
His motionless expression remains fixed for a moment before bursting into uncontrollable laughter, “Was hoping you wouldn’t notice too much but ... Hell yeah-I-am! Don’t tell nobody,” Treylar says before beginning to chuckle again before almost falling out of the chair.
Catherine gives a deep sigh of frustration before she continues, “This session is over! I will not …”
“NO!” Treylar interjects, “Don’t give me the sigh of death! I have to be here. I’m making an ex’cu … an ex-cute …,” his enunciation falters due to his intoxicated state.
“Executive?” Catherine quickly corrects.
“Yeah that, I’m making that … an’ don’t tell Treylar, he’ll be pissed!” he sputters while drunkenly pointing his index finger towards the camera.
This clearly infuriates Catherine as she begins to scold, “Mr. Evans! Need I remind you, that you have tested negative for multiple personality, or dissociative identity disorder. Please do not think you can …”
“I-KNOW, I-know,” Treylar says, interrupting, “That’s jus’ a game. Those tests suck ass! Can be mani-plata-ted if ya know what t'do.” He then reaches out of the view of the camera to retrieve a bottle of pills before dumping two into his other hand.
“Please! Do not …,” Treylar has downed the pills before Catherine can finish, and is taking several chugs from a bottle of whiskey that he had retrieved from just out of view of the camera a moment before.
Catherine calls for a point-of-order by slamming her notepad down on the table, “If you want to continue down this path then fine! I haven’t been able to stop you thus far anyway, but, I do NOT agree --or condone-- your behavior."
Immediately after Catherine finishes Treylar belches to signal a wordless defiant response before returning the bottle to its original position out of view.
Completely unimpressed by his behavior Catherine retorts, "That’s just, CLASSIC! REALLY Classic, Mr. Evans. Well, I should inform you that I've done a bit of my own homework, and I finally have something for you."
In disbelief Treylar responds while attempting to seem more sober than he actually is, "Well, 'hat IZ som'thing Doc.", he leans forward onto the kitchen table resting on his forearms, "What do ya ‘ave for me?"
Catherine confidently responds, "A small quote:
from The Scarlet Letter by Nathaniel Hawthorne."'... such loss of faith is ever one of the saddest results of sin.'
While attempting not to chuckle too much at his own distraction Treylar adds, "I'm not accused of committing adultery Doc."
Catherine continues to stay on topic by completely ignoring Treylar’s last comment, "That is exactly what I see in your eyes during our sessions ... someone who as lost faith … and is looking for a way out. You say that you want to talk, and need help ... well, now is the time!"
Treylar’s demeanor changes visibly more serious as the anima in his body breaks down the concoction of prescription drugs, and alcohol. His eyes glance down, and back, from a random spot on the floor before finally admitting, "Not a way out ... a path for redemption, penance, atonement … new life born out of suffering. All of which are different meanings to the Nine of Swords card being drawn upright.
“Just the other day, I was drawn to a cabal called Nine Swords.
“All of these interconnected events have been happening since the card was drawn a few weeks ago. I can’t save my soul, but I want to sleep at night without seeing that alley in Boston.”
A single large hollow sounding thud is heard coming from Catherine’s office in the video. To Catherine, who is intently is concentrating on Treylar’s every word; this sudden event has the same effect as a gunshot and startling her in the process.
Treylar instinctively asks, “What was that?”
Catherine's voice sounds somewhat confused, “A book fell, from behind me. I know that it was lying flat on the table ... I was using it to smooth out the card from your magic trick the other day, but now the book is on the floor, and open to where I stuffed the card.”
“Really? Which way is the card pointed? Right-side up?” he says while arching his right eyebrow in suspicion.
“No, it is ... upside down," she responds.
Treylar rolls his eyes in a sarcastic expression, “Figures."
There is an awkward pause in the conversation with no explanation from Treylar about the context of his response until broken by Catherine; who wants to get back on topic, “Ok then … so, exactly what happened in Boston?”
Treylar finally begins his confession, “After receiving my anima, I had this … this incredible thirst, or ... craving for knowledge of anything related to firearms. Pistols, shotguns, rifles; it didn’t matter … I had to know everything about them. This desire caused me to spend about three days soaking up all of the knowledge I could find from watching YouTube videos. From there it grew into self-defense with bladed weapons ... swords always seemed cool, so I spent three more days watching old Kung-Fu movies. As I mimicked the moves I saw in the movies … I loosely understood what those moves meant.”
Once again, Treylar reaches over, to retrieve the whiskey bottle out of view, for a round of liquid courage before continuing. This time he holds onto the bottle as his arm lower into his lap, "It was about sunset on the sixth day when hunger pains finally brought me to my senses. All of the food in the apartment was gone, and I had … reservations, about going out. Something about the night ... called out to me, but also ... gave a cause for alarm.
“It was dark by the time I cleaned up, and headed out into the cold October night air. My plan was to avoid as many other people ... and stay in the alleys on my way to get some pizza from Regina's; a place a couple of blocks away from my apartment. So, I placed an online order and headed out ... it was a kind of a cold evening, so I was able to wear a jacket to conceal a bowie knife my father had given me at my graduation ... but I ended up running into someone," Treylar scoffs at his choice of words, "... more like she caught up with me."
Upon realizing the words that he is about to say aloud; Treylar raises his chin to look at the ceiling as he recalls the details of the events in Boston. He sighs before looking down back into the camera, "I had randomly seen her around the area ... off and on, sometimes every day. We would lock eyes every time ... until that night we'd never spoken to each other."
A slight smile comes across Treylar's face as pleasant memories begin to fill his mind, "Her name was Lydia. She caught up to me about halfway to Regina's ... I don't know how long she had been following, but she decided to surprise me just before I was about to turn onto Thatcher Street.
“She had soft voice … when she wasn't making me think I was about to get robbed, 'GIVE-IT-UP SUCKA!' was the first few words she said to me. The complete surprise caused me to push her back away from me … and somehow I attempted to channel an elemental fire attack … but I quickly found out that I couldn't stop."
Treylar brings the bottle of whiskey to his lips again for another swallow, "I collapsed down onto my knees on the cold pavement in the alley. My hands were clinched into fists so tightly that my fingernails broke through my skin. My arms and legs were drawn into my body to where I could feel the pain from the muscle tissue as they began to tear … I couldn’t move, and I couldn’t stop the channel ... even the knife I had tucked in the small of my back was heating up. It felt as if I was about to boil from the inside out ... until I felt the pressure of her hand on my back, and her voice filled my ears, 'Breathe, concentrate on breathing slow ...," her voice seemed to be a guiding light ... her touch on my back, through the jacket and hoodie I was wearing felt cool, and calming.
“When I was able to walk a bit, she helped … hell who am I kidding … she drug my sorry ass a short distance back down the alley and I remember hitting the wall between two large dumpsters to conceal my current state. I don’t know how long it was until I finally regained my senses, and afterwards I felt as if I had tried to run a marathon while doing a handstand.
‘You're a hot guy, but DAUUMMm!’ she said which made me laugh as she helped me back to my feet. ‘Looks like I’m not the only one around here with new talents,’ she said. Her hand began to glow a greenish color as she placed it on my chest. Like before, I could feel a soothing aura around her hand on the outside of my shirt spreading outwards … in only a few seconds I felt as if my event had never taken place.”
Treylar pauses to again drink from his bottle of whiskey before finally setting it down back out of view of the camera, ”I don’t know why I keep drinking this shit .. not like it’s working.”
“Take it as proof that you are stronger than that,” Catherine finally says while catching up on notes she has been taking, “you know, as well as I, that you can hold back the anima from healing yourself for only just so long.”
“Shit!,” Treylar scoffs, before continuing, “anyway, we finally made our introductions, and that's when I found out that her name was Lydia Rossi, and that she had an interesting dream about a bee a few days before.
“We talked in the alley for a few minutes before I finally asked her to join me for some pizza.
“From there we made our way to Regina's, picked up the order, and ate while we made our way back near my apartment. We spent about a half hour talking after arriving back at my building when we both heard strange laughter coming from somewhere down the street.”
Treylar takes a deep breath, and exhales before continuing, ”At first I contributed the laughter to be the local Wine-o that usually hung around the area … but it continued, and grew closer and more maniacal.
“As the sound of laughter grew closer … I made quite a few glances over my shoulder, and around the area only to find … nothing.
“I had no idea what time it was ... late enough to where Lydia, and myself were the only ones out on the street by now. It was a cold October evening … as we stood there and theorized about the origin if the laughter; the temperature had dipped down to where we could see our breath in the night air ... which was lit by a street light from across the street. The laughing sound had gone on long enough to allow both of us to turn to face towards its origin … but we saw nothing but the empty street. The longer we delayed, the closer it became … then it stopped.”
Catherine quickly shuffles her paper around and continues writing notes in another notebook furiously.
“We both must’ve stood there for … about a minute, then from the alleyway next to my building I saw what looked to be a head peak around the corner at us, and quickly turn back. I didn’t have time to ask, ‘What was that?’ before Lydia was heading towards the entrance to alley.
“The alley next to my building had never been a place I like to frequent, but that night found both of us turning into it. At one point, Lydia turned back to me as if to signal that she didn’t want to be here, but seeing me there with her … seemed … comforting.
“We were about to around and head back out when the form of a specter took shape from behind … it laughed to clue us in that we were in its trap. Neither of us really knew what to do at this point, but it was clear that we weren’t going without a fight. I was closer to it than Lydia ... who had taken a defensive stance on the right side of me. I turned my left side more towards the Specter to allow my right hand to reach back and grip the handle of the bowie knife that was stashed in the waist of my jeans.
“I had read books, seen stories on TV, and the internet of paranormal accounts, but nothing really prepares you for the actual event. The night air seemed colder now that it had taken a corporal form. Its dead cavities for eyes pierced through into my soul as it hovered a few feet above the ground. It was dressed in a suit from … the forties, maybe fifties … it was dingy, and tattered with its arms distortedly sticking out of the sleeves of the jacket.
“That’s when the standoff between the specter, and us began … I remember hearing Lydia breaking the silence from my right, ’What-the fuck do we do?’, in a soft voice that was only louder whisper as not to tip off our assailant who was about 20 feet away. I responded that I didn’t know; which probably was more like a grunting sound.
“My fingers had just tightened my hold on the hilt of my knife when it charged toward Lydia. Being either noble, or ridiculously stupid, I drew the bowie knife, and slashed forward into the specters right forearm; which cut deeply. The wound spewed a thick black looking substance while it retreated hissing, and screaming.
“There was an all too brief moment of shock from me while I looked down at the knife. Some kind of black substance covered the blade, but some of it was also on my hand, and the sleeve of my hoodie. I quickly realized that my combat inexperience led to coming into contact with … whatever it was.”
“You came into direct contact with Filth,” Catherine quickly interjects,” and haven’t been turned into a Draug?! Do you really expect me to believe that?”
“THAT, is a different story …,” Treylar pauses as he reaches over for a cigarette, and lighter before putting the cigarette in his mouth and lighting it.
Treylar takes a drag before exhaling, filling the kitchen with tobacco smoke. He lets out another deep sigh before continuing, “I figured it wouldn’t be a good idea to come into contact with any more … but by the time I looked back up … the specter was charging towards me. I didn’t have time to react before it was upon me ... I was taken off my feet with a single backhanded swing from its wounded arm across the temple on the right side of my head leaving a smear of the thick dark fluid.
“I guess I was thrown against the brick wall of my building. As I picked myself up, the world seemed fuzzy for a second, before clearing up … and I see that the specter has moved on and is now grasped Lydia by the throat. The sight of seeing the life being choked out of her several feet off the ground enrages me."
The lit end of Treylar's cigarette glows bright orange as he takes another drag, "I gather up the bowie knife that was knocked out of my right hand, and quickly dash forward to plunge it deep into the side of the specter ... most of all, it was the only thing I thought that could save Lydia's life.
“I could feel tiny amounts of Filth spray ... onto my, neck and face ... as the blade forcefully cut into its side.
“I remember hearing the ghoul; howl out in pain ... most importantly, my actions caused it to release his grip on Lydia's throat ... which promptly sent her gasping for air onto the ground.
“The wounded creature spun around to its right and promptly grabbed me by the neck before pinning me against the wall to its left ... that's when I felt ... when it ...," Treylar lowers his head before taking another puff from his cigarette, "... when the possession occurred.
“I had managed to struggle free enough to try to say one word as loud as I could to Lydia ...,'RUN!' That was also the last thing I could do of my own free will ...” Treylar leans forward to rest his forearms on the table, “... my own conscience was pushed aside despite my efforts to regain control. As I fought inside my own head, I watched as the specter turned back to Lydia ... and began its assault on her.
“From the prison for my own body I watched as it ... as I, almost choked the life out of her. I watched her eyes start to grow dim then seeing her near lifeless body thrown down the alley like trash. I heard my own crazed laughter echoing off the alley's walls before looking down to see that I still had the knife in my right hand.
“The creature that controlled my body began walking towards Lydia who was not moving. She had first hit a large dumpster, which before landing on her side, facing me. I could see the horror in her eyes as I slowly drew closer against my will ... unable to stop ... after I had approached her somewhat half-alive body, the only memories are ... her deafening screams, and warm blood on my skin.
“Her death was agonizingly slow ... every stab and cut was ... planned to cause pain and suffering. I watched in terror as a single tear rolled out of the corner of her eye."
"My god!" Catherine exclaims as Treylar pauses succumbing to the urge to consume more drugs, and to finish off the remaining alcohol.
“Shortly after the creature realized she was sufficiently dead, he looked upon her mutilated body ... I felt my heart break as I watched the steam from her still warm body rise into the night air. The horrific scene symbolically looked as if her spirit was leaving her body.
“From within my own mind I began screaming; not out of pain, but in anger ... hatred ... rage ... nothing but pure rage. Soon it grew past my own heart and mind ... I felt the fire that was now burning in my own soul to purge this dark abomination who had taken control ... who had caused me to murder. I had lost total control over the anima within me that was now fueled by the pain of a broken heart.
“As pure anima began pouring in from around me ... I felt the specters control fade and weaken ... soon I was pushing against the dark entity ... killing it slowly ... letting it feel its own life force being drain away ... dragging the dark into the light.
“I forced it hear its own screams of pain and suffering.
“At some point, the area around us began to get hotter and hotter ... the same exact event that Lydia had sheltered me from earlier that night. Remembering hearing her words added fuel to the fire ... the realization that I would never be able to hear her voice again added even more.
“Everything I saw turned from being in color to white ... until I eventually felt the creature’s presence crushed ... but the channeling rage continued ... burning everything around the area where I was standing in the alley ... until finally being released upwards into the sky."
Treylar leans back against the chair as he again feels the effects of his drug and liquor mixture.
The next thing I know is that I'm handcuffed in the back of a cop car ... and I hear voices around the car talking about the crime I am accused of ... of how my fingerprints are in dried blood on the weapon ... that there are eyewitnesses that saw the whole event. I heard many people curse my name ... I saw Lydia's mother weeping after having to identify the remains of her daughter."
Treylar takes out another cigarette and lights it, "At long last I heard a very different voice ... my own, and I was reminded of a quote I heard. This became a focusing point for the pain the specter had caused.
Psalms 40: 15th verse:
“In the next few months to come I would use that bible verse to turn the immense amount of heartache into newfound strength ... but to finally answer your question.'Let them be ashamed and confounded together that seek after my life to destroy it; let them be turned backward, and put to shame, that seek after my hurt.'
“Yes, I am broken ..."
The video ends here.
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