Diary of a Silent Magician
Applause, cheers, and whistles. “We have come to the highlight of the show!” Ta-dah! Lights reveal the Black Box. Applause and cheers. “Who would like to get sawed in half tonight? I need a volunteer. Uhmm… let’s see, ah, yes, you there. The lady in purple from the sixth row, please come to the stage!”
As she slowly walked to the center of the stage, her life flashed before her drowning eyes. Many thoughts rented space in her mind. Maybe he’s a mind reader too, she thought. Maybe he could see the neon sign painted in her mind that had been screaming… silently. A mind that screams “I can’t take it anymore” Yeah, abracafuckindabra… is how she felt, when she stood on stage, and it felt no different in her everyday life. Mary thought to herself that she would rather be in Hell.
Back to the show…
“Please lie down in the box and relax!” The Magician spun the Black Box very slowly to show the audience all sides of the box. She hummed a Beethoven sonata. He positioned the box just so, pulled out a large, shiny, electric double-toothed saw, and turned it on.
As the Magician leaned down to begin the illusion of dissection, Mary started screaming hysterically. Unbeknownst to the audience, Mary saw the face of death. A flash of his head bore the semblance of what appeared to be a grotesque and cadaverous being. At that moment, he had no eyes and a stench of flesh in its last stages of decay. The audience went wild, as they loved the show. The Magician whispered to Mary, “Welcome to Hell, Mary.” The intensity of the cheers from the audience pumped through the Magician’s veins like molten magma.
The Magician got caught up in the cheers, turned off the saw, raised his arms, and gloried in his fame. Mary broke free from the Black Box and ran half-crazed off the stage. The Magician yelled for her, and then he noticed a man in the last row holding a sign that said “Charles, rest in peace.” The Magician slowly lowered his arms, and just stared at the man. Someone from the audience yelled out, “What the fuck is going on here?” Mary was no longer in sight as she ran out of from the show and managed to get a taxi home.
The scientist answered by saying that the Magician before the audience was Charles Morris, who died one hundred years ago. “His soul was never laid to rest and he came to me. While living, Charles had a disease that severely disfigured and malformed his head. Adults and children alike called him a freak while frightened of him. With a broken spirit, he turned to killing, and set out to mutilate anyone and everyone who made fun of him, and turned their cheek. He loved the thrill of severing the cords and sawing off the heads of people who made fun of his…with a chainsaw. He begged me to give him life again. In return he promised never to kill again.” There was complete silence from the audience and the silent Magician began a new page in his diary.
The next day, still shaken from her ordeal, Mary made her morning tea, and turned on the telly.
“We have incredible breaking news! A bloody massacre occurred last night at the Magic Show in downtown London! This was the site of the most hideous and horrific massacre in London’s history! There appear to be no survivors, and all who attended last night were decapitated!”
Mary dropped her tea and as it shattered to the ground she shrieked in horror. She sat down to try to compose herself enough to call the police. Her screams were silenced as her head tumbled in her lap.