Chapter Sixteen - Ixion
I grew up in a house bigger than this one. Twice the size, if you can imagine that. It was me, my mom, my dad, and my sister.
At least… that’s how it started.
I was a precocious child. A name like mine is a lot to live up to, but I did my best. Might’ve fallen a little short. But all in all, my parents were happy with their rambunctious male progeny.
I don’t know how I first became interested in cameras. Taking stupid pictures on vacation like most budding photographers, I suppose. Palm trees and sunsets. Maybe seals on the rocks off the coast of Monterey. Or the white-capped peaks while we were snowboarding in the Alps.
But I do remember the first time I realized the power of video.
I left my camera in my parents’ bedroom one morning before school. Forgot to turn it off—which is the important part. So it kept recording until it ran out of battery.
When I got home from school I found it. I was twelve. That’s when I discovered my father didn’t love my mother.
It was a conversation about nothing, really. But it said so much. Their argumentative back-and-forth wasn’t playful or sarcastic. It was dull and without flavor. It was bland and tired. It was just words between two people who had other things on their minds and better ways to waste their time.
But when my father said, “I’m taking Jillian to the summer house this year. So you can do what you want as well,” my whole life changed.
I played that one sentence over and over like a million times, trying to make sure I heard it correctly.
I didn’t know who Jillian was, but taking a woman who is not my mother to our summer house wasn’t normal marriage behavior.
Jordan was my best friend back then. He’s a mind fuck kinda guy. So when I showed him the video he got this wild gleam in his eye that I mistook for mischief.
“Let’s play a game,” he said.
It’s a lot like the game you’re playing right now, Evangeline.
No.
I take that back.
It’s the very same game.
Total Exposure, it’s called.
He’s gonna help you. Whatever your doctor has sold you, it’s a lie. This is Jordan, through and through. Every bit of this is him. I know him better than anyone. I know him better than myself. He wants something from you. And if you give it to him, you’ll get what you came for, whatever that is. And he’ll take what he wants and leave you behind, because that’s what he does.
That probably confuses you, doesn’t it? Because if you had something to give people, you probably wouldn’t be playing his game right now.
Allow me to explain.
He craves something he can only get through others. He wants your secrets. He wants your soul. He feeds off the lives of others. Like a fucking vampire… or hey, let’s just call him what he is.
A parasite.
And if you stay here in this house with me, you’re gonna give him every bit of you. You can shake your head all you want, but it’s the truth. He always wins.
I know this better than anyone because he played his first game with me and my family.
I had access to money. We both did. So we bought cameras. Lots and lots of cameras. Little secret cameras you hide in stuffed animals. Or the ones that plug into outlets and look like phone charger adapters. Or just the cheap kind people buy for vacation in case they get stolen.
We hid them all over. We got hundreds of hours of video. We caught my father in the act on my mother’s custom couch in the living room.
I didn’t know why Jordan wanted all this footage or what he planned on doing with it. That part still baffles me a little. Because he never said anything about showing it to my mother. And I really don’t think he did that. Why? My mother knew. It was an… arrangement, after all.
It’s like that part didn’t matter to Jordan. What he wanted… the only thing he wanted… was the exposure.
To see people for what they really are. To flay open their souls and uncover the sins underneath.
It makes him hard. His cock throbs for hidden things. He comes on the face of your privacy.
That’s his price and everyone pays it.
Looking back, I have to say, I got nothing out of that game. Not a single win. Yeah, I knew the truth. That’s what Jordan kept telling me. “You’re getting to the bottom of things. Solving the mystery of your family.”
But since when is that a victory? Don’t all families have secrets? Shouldn’t most of those stay in that dark closet where we put them?
I lost a part of myself getting to the bottom of things. And the sad part is… I don’t care anymore. I’m like him now. I want it. I crave it. He knows this. He paired us up for a reason and your doctor, good intentions notwithstanding, has nothing to do with what’s happening right now.
I want to own those things inside you. All those sick, bloody fears that make you afraid to leave your house. I want your memories. I want your stories. I want your secrets.
If you stay here with me and we play his game together, we’re gonna take them, Evangeline. We’re gonna take everything you’ve got bottled up in that messed-up head and shake it out of you. And if you think that little tease of a show you put on for me this morning can compete with the mind fuck we’ll be subjecting you to… think again.
His game is my game.
His rules are my rules.
I am Jordan’s sick obsession.
So stay and play if your prize is so precious.
We’ll deliver what you need, we always do.
I’ll go one step further and give you me in return.
Take me. I’m yours.
But know going in… you’re mine right back. And you will never be the same.
If your answer is yes, then start writing. I want to know why you’re here and I want the truth.
And yes. I’ll know if it’s a lie.
That story had better be good or I’ll walk out. Leave you here. And you’ll be right back where you started. Alone. Afraid. The loser.
So write for me, Evangeline. Leave it on the kitchen counter, go outside, wait thirty minutes, and then come back inside for your next command.
X