For a year on that island in West Ireland, life was bliss. At least to Khalid. It was clear that Aidan was deep in mourning at the loss of his beloved twin sister, but Khalid was happy to wait until the pain was bearable. They continued to run the farm, tilling soil, picking the vegetables, tending to the animals. At night, they would have a drink, and if it was clear enough, they would sit out and watch the stars.
On the anniversary of Ashlin’s death, they had a memorial picnic. Aidan shared many happy memories of his sister, and Khalid listened with rapt attention, regretting again that he needed to put Aidan in such pain to be sure they would stay together.
That day, Aidan looked at him was such pure adoration, that Khalid was sure they would kiss. They came within inches of doing so, mouths nearly brushing one another, but Aidan quickly backed away and cleared his throat.
In time. Khalid knew it would happen in time. He just had to be patient.
That night, Aidan awoke with a shout from a terrible dream. When Khalid went to him to offer comfort, Aidan flinched away from him. This was such a shocking motion that Khalid stumbled backward and fell hard on his bed. Aidan was glaring at him, a dark look in his eye. A look that Khalid had seen before, on Cody.
The next morning, Khalid made breakfast, attempting to make everything casual and calm. Aidan thanked him gruffly, and set about eating so fast that he barely had time to chew, before he took care of his plate and headed outside.
Khalid’s heart was thrumming. He cleaned up in the house, then went outside to find Aidan. He had gone, however. Khalid tended to the farm, waiting for him to return.
Midday, Aidan finally returned with horse and cart. He had bought some seed for the chickens. He appeared calmer, a smile even catching the edge of his mouth. He jumped down and unloaded the seed while Khalid watched in anxious anticipation.
They worked together wordlessly for the rest of the day into the evening, where Khalid prepared them a delicious omelet for dinner.
“How-how are you?” Khalid asked. He assumed now that Aidan’s strange mood was related to the anniversary of his sister’s death.
“I’m well, thanks.” Said Aidan, eating at a reasonable speed now. Aidan paused and continued speaking thoughtfully, “You know something? In all my years of working with that horse, I’ve never had a hint of trouble. Calmest creature you could ask for. I’d trust him to watch a baby. Yet, strangely enough, last year, he goes mad. For one crazy night, he just is no longer himself, you know? And, I had always assumed maybe something spooked him, but try as I might, I cannot seem to spook him again.”
“Perhaps something bit him?” Khalid suggested, not liking where this conversation was going.
“See, I thought of that, but he’s been munched on by loads of bugs, with barely a swish of the tail. I watched a hare jump right by his hooves just last night, and he looked at it all curious like, not a hint of nervousness in him.” Said Aidan.
“Strange.” Muttered Khalid.
“What’s strange is how you were the one to find my Ashlin. Middle of the night, over a mile down the road, and you happen to come upon her body?”
“I was having trouble sleeping that night.” Khalid said, perhaps a little too quickly.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you sleep.” Said Aidan, setting down his fork. “I realized it last night. I had this dream, see. Like Ashlin herself was speaking to me, showing me queer things about you. How you never grow tired. You barely eat. And the strange way that people seem to sort of lose themselves when they look in your eyes. Why, I saw little Jack up the road look at you the first time, and his face went all slack like, and without a word he turns and leaves. I brushed it off at the time, but I’m thinking now just how strange it was.”
“That’s…that’s mad.” Said Khalid.
“See, that’s what I thought too, but then I took to snooping a bit. Went through your things, I’m sorry to say, and I found deeds. Titles. Hidden in a false pocket in your bag. Things you clearly didn’t want me to see. Now, what kind of man, worth all that money, decides to live his life on an island somewhere? A strange man, who is never tired, never hungry, and seems to give just a look to get folks to do his bidding. And you know? I come to the conclusion that there’s something supernatural about you. Something of the devil. And something drew you to me, but I can’t say as what. However, I can say that I think you did something that night. You scared that horse somehow. Here I was thinking my sister was in love with you, but it turns out she was trying to get rid of you. And you killed her. I see it all now.”
Khalid shook his head, “This is madness speaking. You’re clearly not in your right mind today, Aidan. And no wonder, it being near the anniversary of your sister’s death.”
“Don’t try to mess with my head. I understand completely now. Ashlin sent me a message, and now I know what I must do.”
Aidan stood suddenly, and Khalid’s eyes immediately went to the Webley Revolver he was holding in his hand. He must have been hiding it in his waistband the entire time.
“Aidan, are you going to kill me over some crazy idea?” Khalid asked calmly.
“You know, two weeks ago, your arm was gushing blood from that run-in with the tiller. I insisted on stitching you up, but you insisted you would be fine. I looked, days later, and there was never a sign you’d even been cut. Not a wound, not even a scar. How strange, I thought.”
There was a loud bang, and Khalid reeled back a bit. It took him a moment to register that the bullet had penetrated his shoulder. He looked down, closing his eyes and shaking his head. It took him a second to realize that he should have faked being injured, but it was already too late.
“So, you ask if I’m going to kill you over a crazy idea.” Said Aidan. “But I don’t even know if you can kill a devil.”
“Aidan, liste-”
Another shot rang out, silencing Khalid.
*****
Khalid came to with a strange pressure surrounding him. It took him a moment to get his bearings. He realized that he had been tied in a cloth of some sort, and weighted enough to be tossed into the ocean and sink. He could taste the salty water. He could feel the animals attempting to nibble at him.
Dammit, Aidan.
It was clear that he had been shot in the head. He wondered how long it had taken him to heal this time. When he tried to free himself of the ropes, it was no use. Aidan had tied him thoroughly. He wasn’t getting out anytime soon.
Khalid lay down there for some time, wishing that some great creature would come by to finish him off. He wondered if he could possibly finally die via digestion, or would he reassemble once passed from the creature.
Dark thoughts like this flooded his mind for days, until one day he felt a splash nearby. The bubble of water being moved around a large object. Something jerked him around, tugging on the rope keeping him secured to the bottom of the sea, until it had freed him. He felt a hand grab his arm through the cloth and drag him up to the surface, and couldn’t help but wonder if Aidan had had a change of heart.
“I told you I saw him here sir. And he’s moving and all!” Said a young man.
Khalid was pulled up into a boat, and thrown onto his stomach. He heard the young man clamber into the boat beside him.
“By God, you’re right, Dom.” Said an older man. “Now remember, don’t look him in the face. That fella said he controls with his eyes. Under no circumstances do you want this monster putting thoughts in your head.”
Khalid noticed that they weren’t bothering to untie him.
“Please.” He muttered through the cloth. “I don’t know what you’ve heard, but I’m no monster. I’ve been blessed with long life. That’s all.”
“Sure sounds like something a monster would say.” Said the young man.
“Your friend went raving through the island, telling everyone about you and your strange ways before he shot himself. Says you looked into people’s eyes and they did what you said. That you killed his sister, and he had to get rid of you. My young ward here had a hunch though. He saw something white in the water, something moving. He reckoned he knew where you were buried at sea, and it turns out he’s right. We’re gonna make nice and sure you can’t bite, little monster. I know some folks who will be very interested in you. They’ll pay a pretty penny too!” Said the older man.
It was a lot of information at once, including Aidan’s death, but before Khalid could even respond, a darker piece of cloth was pulled over his head, and something heavy collided with the back of it.
All was darkness again.
*****
Khalid woke up on cold concrete. He was chained to the stone floor, face down. His wrists, ankles, and neck were pinned directly to the floor, keeping him looking straight down. The cuffs were spiked, the spikes digging into his flesh to keep him secure. Something had been placed under his forehead to keep it propped up, presumably to keep him able to speak. There was a dark bag over his head, but the rest of his body was completely exposed to the elements.
“Incredible.” Said a young man with a British accent. “I couldn’t believe it when they told me, but here you are! And you’re alive!”
Khalid struggled for a moment against the binds, but it was clear they were not going to give.
“I wouldn’t bother. I had those made especially for you, but for the strength of a man many times your size. It would take a miracle to break out of them.”
“Please let me go.” Said Khalid. “I don’t know who or what you think I am, but I can assure you that it’s not true.”
He could hear footsteps across the concrete, stopping next to his head. He knew the man had crouched down, because when he spoke again, his voice was much closer.
“I think you are a modern medical marvel, and I fully intend to study you in whatever capacity that I can.”
“I’m merely a poor man from Inismore, who wants to go home.” Said Khalid.
“My friend, you are as much Irish as I am a London prostitute. Let the silly micks fight their war now. You and I have so much to look forward to together.”
Khalid very much did not like the sound of that.
“I have money. An untold fortune! You let me go, and you will be rich beyond your wildest dreams!” Khalid insisted.
“I was born to money. I grew up in castles. I assure you, the thought of fortune does nothing for me.”
Khalid thought for a moment, mind struggling to figure out how he was going to get out of this. He finally came to a conclusion.
“What is your name? And where am I?” He demanded to know.
He would have those whose minds he had peered into on Inismore come and find him. Whatever it took.
“Those you will both come to learn in time. But I can assure you that you are somewhere where no one will ever find you. Now just hold tight, and we’ll get started with the experiments. I want to be certain that I’m getting my money’s worth.” With those words, Khalid felt the sharp sting of a knife plunging into his heart. He gasped in pain, his body dying.
Soon he was back, taking in a shuddering breath as he continued to lay shackled to the floor.
“Incredible. Just incredible.” Said the man. “We are going to have so much fun together.”
And so it was every day, the man thought of some new form of torture, some new way to end Khalid’s life and watch him slowly heal. He often shared the results with Khalid, gleeful about what he called his “scientific research.”
Khalid was slashed, stabbed, gutted. He had organs pulled out while he was awake. Every extremity was sliced and diced, removed, only to grow back. It was soon discovered that any body part that was removed would grow back exactly as it was, and the piece removed would seemingly disappear, as though it had been replaced in whole.
“Amazing, just amazing.” Said his captor.
Every day, Khalid thought about what he wanted to do to this man in return. While being bled out, he pictured the man chopping off bits of his own body, piece by piece. Forced to castrate himself.
This torture continued for days, months, decades. One day, Khalid felt that familiar feeling of sadness that meant that Asim had died again. His tears fell in the black bag over his head, tears of rage, sorrow, regret. He began to feel himself splitting, in his mind, as much as his captor was splitting his body.
Soon, Asim was reborn. In the Western United States. Khalid passed the time during his tortures thinking about the young man that Asim must slowly be becoming. Wondering if he would ever get to see him again.
A decade and a half later, byhis count, Asim died again. A child still. Khalid screamed extra loud that day. His captor was very curious about this. They had been together over four decades now, and he knew his captor, the man who had let slip one time that his name was Lord Bailey, was in his sixties at this point. He was getting up there in age. Khalid began to wonder what would happen to him when Lord Bailey passed. Would he be left chained to that floor for the rest of eternity? Or until the building crumbled.
Years ago, Khalid had sent almost everyone he had ever laid eyes on at Inismore to find Lord Bailey’s castle and free him from his prison. Though he had mostly kept to himself on the farm with Aidan and Ashlin, he had come across upwards of twenty men and women. They all made the journey across the water to reach England and find Lord Bailey. Several of them had been murdered by Lord Bailey’s guards. The rest were sitting in the dungeons, prisoners for life now. Khalid vaguely wondered how the island would deal with the loss of so many.
Khalid’s ability to control minds was certainly of interest to Lord Bailey, who had sent an unsuspecting young man down there to remove the hood and look into Khalid’s eyes. The man had been told that under no circumstances was he to remove Khalid’s shackles, but naturally, the moment Khalid had control of him, he was forcing the young man to free him.
The young man, Daniel, was pulling at the shackles, looking around the room to find something to pop them free, when Lord Bailey’s guards came in and grabbed him. They tied him up and sat him in a chair not far from Khalid. The black bag was immediately replaced on Khalid’s head, the guards taking great care not to look him in the eye.
Lord Bailey spent hours questioning Daniel. He forced Khalid to show him how the ability worked, and though Khalid had very little interest in doing so, he eventually gave in once both his feet and hands had been cut off.
As Khalid grew back his extremities, he spoke to Lord Bailey through Daniel. He told him everything he thought of him, and everything he was going to do to him given the chance. He explained the things he had done to his own father and brothers, and others who had angered him throughout the years. Then he told Lord Bailey that his time would come.
At that point, Khalid pushed a thought into Daniel’s head and the young man proceeded to smash his head violently against the chair until he was dead.
That was all the proof that Lord Bailey needed that he would not really be able to use Khalid’s mind control ability for his benefit.
Now, over four decades had passed. Asim was born again, and for one precious day, Khalid felt hope.
But the torture continued.
Khalid lived.
Died.
Lived.
Died.
Lived again.
Another decade later, and his chance finally came.
One particularly smug guard who had not yet worked with him, but had heard stories, had snuck down to get a look at the “monster” of which everyone spoke.
Khalid heard him enter. Knew those footsteps were different. Someone he had not met before. The guard crept closer, pulling off Khalid’s hood in curiosity. Khalid immediately looked him in the eye, and pressed the thought into his head that he was to free Khalid under any circumstances.
The guard quickly found the keys, and for the first time in over half a century, Khalid was released.
He slowly stood, body creaking in agony as it began to heal from the spiked shackles. Khalid forced the guard to give him his clothes, then as an afterthought, had the man cut his own throat with his blade. It was a quick death, a thank you for saving Khalid from his prison.
The rampage that followed was one for the ages. Guard after guard would later be found with entrails and organs rained down around them. Friend murdered friend. Brother murdered brother, unable to stop themselves, feeling the terrible horror as they carried out the deed. Blood flowed down the castle hallway nearly ankle deep in parts.
Finally, Khalid made his way to Lord Bailey’s room. The man sat up, frail, old, and pathetic, his eyes wide in fear as he looked on Khalid standing in his doorway.
“Lord Bailey.” Said Khalid with a cruel smirk. “I have thought about this day for a long long time. It’s just a shame that I only get to do this once.”
Stories From Montana 