Chapter Fifteen: The Origins of Hatred

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Lamia's father was named John, a man of integrity, decency, diligence, and strength, who firmly believed that with his own hands and courage he could provide a good life for his family.

As the governor extolled, the people of Black Coffin Town would reclaim the fallen world through the power of the Black Coffin, so that humanity might once again rule this planet.

Lamia could not remember when John had fallen ill, but he had changed, becoming gloomy and withdrawn. The doctors diagnosed him with depression. He was listless, unable to summon interest in anything. He stopped working and was soon dismissed from his job. Lamia’s mother, Barbara, had to work to support the family.

John left a good impression among the neighbors, who were initially willing to help him. The town had a psychologist who treated John for free through a course of therapy. But in this Age of Sorrow, medicines were scarce, and those for depression nearly extinct. Simple psychological counseling and the love of family did nothing to help.

Lamia often heard her parents arguing; her father began to drink, sleeping all day, while her mother tried to save him with love, but to no avail. There was no doubt that Barbara loved John. She remembered her wedding vows and had no thought of divorce. But Lamia and Salvador both knew they could not hold together for long.

John had almost given up on life. If Lamia and Salvador left him, he would surely die. Yet the most hateful thing was that he did not wish to save himself.

The psychologist said the illness was in the brain, and even surgery would be useless.

One day, the psychologist brought good news: a research institute within the Black Coffin was testing a new drug for depression. Cases were scarce, and they were eager for John to try it, even willing to pay him.

Lamia overheard her mother answering the call from the institute, sounding hesitant. She still loved John, still wanted to love him. She said, "I... don't know. Is the drug dangerous? Could it harm his health?"

She firmly believed there was no such thing as a free lunch.

Lamia thought, "But we've already reached a dead end. How much worse could things get?"

Her mother thought the same: either watch John die, or let him drag the whole family down until they were banished from Black Coffin Town, doomed to perish in the wilderness.

They obtained permission to enter the Skyscraper; the whole family could go inside. They had to carry a timer and could not stay long, but for Lamia and Salvador, who had always revered the Skyscraper, it was a dreamlike journey.

The ground floor lobby of the Skyscraper felt like a temple of the gods, but time was short, and they hurried into the elevator. Lamia remembered clearly that the institute was on the fifty-third floor—“Gene Pharma External Office.”

The office was spotless and furnished with extreme simplicity: a few soft leather sofas, a reception desk, and a receptionist, who was somewhat impatient, almost snatching John away. Barbara wanted to follow but was refused; they could only wait on the sofas.

After two hours, just as they began to worry, the receptionist invited them in to see the patient.

Lamia remembered everything from that moment, including every detail of the agonizing days that followed.

Father—John—smiled when he saw them, a smile unseen for a year. That smile made Barbara, Lamia, and Salvador simultaneously shed the heavy burden they had carried for days.

Even though the smile seemed strange.

The doctor sat behind a large desk. He was a middle-aged man with a mane of hair and piercing eyes, full of energy. He looked at Barbara, and Lamia felt his gaze was uncomfortable, burning with intense interest, as though he wished to possess her (I suspect Barbara was very beautiful, judging from Lamia's own looks).

The doctor introduced himself as Simon Magnus. He spun a golden pen rapidly between his hands, from left to right, like a juggler, and said, "The drug is already taking effect. He may be overly excited in the coming days, but please don't mind; he'll improve."

Barbara asked, "Are there any side effects?"

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Dr. Simon said, "Because the drug is experimental, that excitement is one of the side effects. The patient's personality may also change considerably, along with temporary memory loss. Let him go home and sleep; after some time, the chemicals in his brain will return to normal. He's fine now."

Despite her worries, Barbara smiled with joy. Lamia and Salvador embraced their father, who seemed a bit dazed but responded with enthusiasm.

They left Black Coffin on time. On the way home, John greeted every stranger they met and even, when Barbara wasn't looking, secretly kissed her neck, making her laugh aloud.

Lamia believed her father had truly returned. At dawn the next day, he woke early, made breakfast for everyone, and cleaned the house thoroughly. Though he had no job, he used the money from Gene Pharma to bribe the foreman and successfully applied for a position at a construction site.

Lamia and Salvador made a special visit to see him at work. He was abnormally energetic, seemingly tireless.

Barbara prepared a lavish dinner to celebrate John's "recovery." He held her tightly, and Lamia had never seen her father show such affection for her mother.

His gaze was greedy, his smile exaggerated. At that moment Lamia suddenly felt uneasy; the look in his eyes resembled Dr. Simon's exactly. But Lamia thought, "It's just a side effect of the drug, isn't it? The doctor said so."

Father had a hearty appetite, but Barbara whispered to him, "Do you remember what embarrassing things you said to me on our first date?"

Father asked in confusion, "What did I say?"

Barbara pushed him playfully. "Don't play dumb. Every wedding anniversary, you tell me again."

Father said, "I... I'm sorry, I really can't remember."

Barbara was disappointed. Lamia felt, in that instant, that if a person forgets the past, he becomes someone else—a stranger. But didn't Dr. Simon say the memory loss was only temporary?

Father held Barbara's hand, saying passionately, "But I still love you, Lana. Believe me, I'll remember, and I'll make you happy."

Barbara wept with joy; after despair, hope was rekindled. Lamia and Salvador tactfully finished dinner early, letting their parents be alone. That night, noises from their room kept Lamia awake.

After two blissful days, Lamia came home from school to find her father standing numb in the dark like a zombie, startling her into a scream. Her scream did not rouse him; he merely stared at Lamia, wearing that strange, foolish grin.

Lamia asked, "Dad, how are you feeling?"

John replied, "Me? I'm fine."

Lamia asked, "How's your job?"

John said, "I'm on night shift tonight, resting during the day."

Lamia asked, "They have night shifts at the construction site?"

John yawned and collapsed onto the bed. Lamia feared he might become depressed again, but he did not. At night, he went out to work, full of energy.

Her father's routine became increasingly erratic, sometimes going out by day, sometimes at night. He seemed to find Barbara irresistibly attractive, as if they were in the throes of first love. Yet his passion was excessive. Sometimes Lamia thought, "He acts just like the town's hooligans, constantly pestering women without a shred of shame."

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Barbara thought so too and began telling John, "Restrain yourself! Don't do these things in front of Lamia and Sami!"

John merely said, "But darling, I love you so much."

He had never spoken like that before; he never wore his love on his sleeve. He was once a gentle, magnanimous man, not this oily, glib rascal. He had changed completely, in memory and in manner. Lamia felt the drug had utterly transformed him, not healed him, but reshaped him.

Barbara's gaze toward John was now filled with doubt.

Until that night, when John committed an act of violence that nearly destroyed Lamia. That night, Lamia followed her father outside and was met by a stray dog. It was an old dog, familiar to Lamia, gentle and loyal, like a volunteer patrol officer of the community.

The old dog barked at John. John seized the dog's throat, the dog biting his hand so hard blood streamed, yet John seemed not to feel it and strangled the dog to death.

Lamia screamed, trying to save the dog, but when her father grinned viciously and moved toward her, all her courage vanished and she fled home.

Inside, Barbara was waiting. She said, "Lamia, take Sami and go to your room. I need to speak with John."

Lamia locked her door and listened in secret.

She heard Barbara say loudly, "Who are you? Who are you really?"

Father: "I'm John, Lana. What's wrong?"

Barbara: "No! You're not! I saw it that day. I saw you sitting at the table, spinning a pen from left to right—John never did that trick! Never!"

Father: "I saw Dr. Simon do it that day. Thought it was interesting, so I learned it."

Barbara: "You're not John at all! You're Simon Magnus! Yesterday, I applied for permission to enter the fifty-third floor of Black Coffin to see Dr. Simon. But they said there is no 'Gene Pharma External Office' on fifty-three! And no Simon Magnus!"

Suddenly, Lamia realized Barbara was absolutely right. John was not John; his mannerisms were exactly those of Dr. Simon! Lamia remembered every detail of that meeting: Simon's way of speaking, his gaze at Barbara, the pen trick—all now embodied perfectly in her father.

He had not cured her father. He had occupied his soul—used her father's body to defile her mother!

She opened the door and saw Barbara aiming a gun at John. She fired, hitting his shoulder, but John laughed, "You know you're not shooting me, but your husband. The good news is, John's soul is gone. He left, died, was freed, has long departed. I can choose not to feel this pain—or choose to enjoy your company. Am I any different from John? Just treat me as him. When I say 'I love you,' I mean it."

Barbara fired again, hitting him, but John lunged forward, wrested the gun from her, his strength monstrous, as if out of control, smashing Barbara's head with the butt.

Lamia stabbed John in the back of the head with a fruit knife. He turned to look at her, his greedy and evil gaze now fixed on Lamia.

He smiled, "We'll meet again, daughter."

He fell and breathed his last, but Lamia knew that neither Simon Magnus nor her father John had died—only an empty shell, long since bereft of life.