Libro di Sinistro: Redux

The book had slowly poisoned my mom all her life. She might have even started out as a pleasant and balanced person. If that was the case it was before I was old enough to relate to her. The book was sneaky; its mere presence made you more and more toxic as a person. Now she was dead and someone had to take the thing. The book didn't even appear till my sister and I were locked into the library together. The funeral had been yesterday; neither of us was happy to be there. We didn't talk often and when we did it was hardly pleasant. She already seemed like she had been the book's keeper for twenty years. She was as poisoned by life in our family as Mom was by the book. I had started out really bad myself. My early behavior was as much sociopathic as hers was malevolently narcissistic. I had changed my ways. I would like to say it was an instantaneous and miraculous conversion. That would make a heck of a story. It wasn't like that. I spent a painful lifetime working out what was right and wrong. I read Seneca, Musonius Rufus and Marcus Aurelius. I studied the Dali Lama and Thoreau. I fought my nature and crafted myself into what I wanted to be, not what was expected of me by kin or legacy. Despite all this, it was still my duty to be here. It was probably better that I take the book anyway. It was just possible that with herculean strength of will I could minimize its effect on the world. The book appeared after we locked ourselves in the library and sat across from each other. It was in the middle of the table. No one reached first as that would be seen as a sign of weakness and anxiety. She spoke first as expected. She felt anything that she thought was more important than anything anyone else had to say.

"She is gone, Earl. The book is mine. You are too weak to manage it anyway. Let's cut to the chase and make the transition low key."

"You know as the eldest, it is mine. I don't want it. I am going to take it though. You are in no position spiritually to have that thing."

"Eldest? You have not behaved like the eldest for a long time. You lack discipline. You don't focus on what really matters. You are soft and confused. I have worked hard to build a stable base so I can properly manage the complications that come from being guardian. You have been finding yourself! Your whole branch of the family is weak because of your silly little spiritual quest."

"Don't you realize that the things you are most critical of are the exact reasons it should be me. Long ago our family took on the burden of guardian to protect the world. The book has slowly corrupted us. You know that Mom used the book every once and a while to get her way. She used it to create many unfair advantages for herself. She was barely in control when she died. You and I both know you will continue that legacy of exploiting the grey areas of guardian morality. It has to be me."

"I am taking the book, Earl, and you can't stop me."

She rose and reached toward the book. It actually seemed to move ever so slightly toward her. It wanted to corrupt. The tome sought out its prey. If the decision was left to the book it would have flown into her arms like a lost child returning to its mother. She moved with purpose but was trying to seem composed. It would not do to show weakness at this moment and she knew it. I waited till she almost had her hand on it and had looked down at it in anticipation of ownership. Then I did what had to be done. It was still hard to do, but my training had made me anything but weak, despite what she thought.

"I am so sorry, Sydney."

The knife was very small and thin. It had been concealed in my belt buckle and down the center of the leather strap. It was more needle than blade really. I grabbed the back of her head with my free hand as I punched the blade into her right eye socket. I used the free hand to help force the blade into her brain, then grasped her hair and pulled her head back. The one thing I was sure of was it would not do to have her blood spill on the book. Her body went back and toppled the chair behind her so she landed on the floor. I had also laced the weapon in tetrodotoxin to ensure both expediency and mercy should this eventuality come to pass. I picked up the book. No one would dare stop me when I left the room. Now that I had taken the book it was mine for better or worse. I had no intention of using the book, but they could not be sure. All the various rogues and hangers-on of my family could count on was that I was near immortal. The book would never let any harm come to me by any hand except my own. My eventual suicide would add to its power. It would continue on this way until it grew powerful enough to absolutely corrupt one of its guardians. We were both the salvation and the destruction of the world. The only thing standing between the two now was me and my will to live.

THE END

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