• Vol. 10
  • Chapter 10


There it was again. The flash! Did you see? Right between the ads of the woman driving a car down a winding road and a man drinking beer with his friends at the perfect barbecue. Just after one ended and the other began, a flash. No, a wink. Blink and you miss. Most people would miss it, it's designed that way. But I've been looking for a while; I know what I'm looking for.
If you hang around long enough in bridge underpasses, dark alleyways, soup kitchens, all the places where the dregs of society collect, you'll hear stories, myths, legends. Conspiracy theories too. But if you hang around long enough you develop a nose. There might be some hostility, some violence. Once you get past that you become an insider, you're told secrets.
Not much of a secret this one. It's been around for a while, if anyone was interested. You heard of missing people vanished without a trace, presumed dead after a few years? Happens in every country, around the world. Some police officer gets a mark on their record, a ghost on their shoulder. The family want a body — closure — and they never get it. A TV series is made. The person who 'went missing' is chuckling even now, maybe watching the programme on themselves.
Imagine if I told you, you could see the most awe inspiring sights — travel the world, be on yachts, private planes, even space missions. Be at Glastonbury, the Arctic Circle, the most secret of political meetings. And you wouldn't have to do a thing. Not train, work or spend the money. Nor have to know the right people. All of it open to you. The most private experiences in people's lives; sex obviously, but also the kinks — hitting their partner, sticking things in different orifices of their body, eating pet food or their own pet fish.



How do you get there? You watch for the eyes (they're all over, once you start looking), fall into one. It's easy when you want to and you're not afraid — there are plenty of things to help with getting over the fear. Is there pain? Who knows! The ones who pass through are altered to the point where they don't remember what pain is. All they know is the pleasure. The pleasure of consuming an endless smorgasbord.
You become the eye of the camera, the hundreds, thousands, millions of cameras. Going from being the observed to becoming the observer. Not the male gaze or even the female gaze. You become THE gaze.
Live forever, feeding on the lives of others with nothing to concern you. No more feeling crushed like a scrapped car, or vertigo like you're on top of a tree. Sometimes both at the same time, your insides wrung out. This is your ticket to freedom, eternal life.
I'm about to go there. I'm ready. Are you coming?