The Mariner

Patient Number 0020375

Name: Frank Tetrazzini

The beta-blocker/Ibogaine compound is having a splendid effect. I can already feel the urges diminishing. It is certainly a strange sensation, losing an addiction whilst still enjoying the act you were so recently dependent upon. It is most empowering.

I think I shall set up a permanent rehab centre here on Sighisoara. We seem to have been accepted by the locals who believe that Grace is my daughter. After stern instruction, she’s agreed to play along, realising that it is mutually beneficial. However, this is a role-play I try to dissuade her from practising in private. Yesterday she called me ‘Daddy’ whilst we were alone. This displeases me. Somehow the idea of her being someone else’s is far more tantalising.

I am concerned about her growing older. Once breasts begin to form she’ll lose a certain appeal. That day can’t be far off, and I mourn the passing of each one before that, but by then I shall be free from addiction and able to choose a replacement carefully. After all, addiction leads to rash decisions. With due care, I shall be safe.

Having practised my theories on several test cases and now myself, I am looking forward to taking on patients. This island seems to be a hub of sorts and I can imagine a permanent settlement here. Yes, Sighisoara’s the end for us. I don’t wish to ever leave.

T.

23. THE DEVIL, GRACE & GOD

THE MARINER DESCENDED INTO TOWN like an angel of death. Against his back the rehab centre burned brightly, the flames reaching high into the air, literally a funeral pyre. The sky behind was a deep blue from the rising sun. Sighisoara had awakened to another inferno, though this time the perpetrator walked boldly amongst them. As he passed the residents shrank away; news of the monster had spread wide.

Reverend McConnell saw the Mariner as he made his way towards the Neptune and called out. With no response offered, he gave chase, catching up as he neared the dock.

“What have you done? What have you done?” He gestured towards the fire.

“I am paying for my sins.” The Mariner did not slow, but kept his eyes firmly ahead.

McConnell glanced from the Mariner’s back, to the billowing smoke atop of the hill and then back to the man who’d caused it. Fearfully he scurried after.

“There’s no need for this misery! You must forgive yourself!”

“There can be no forgiveness.” The Mariner’s voice was harsh from the smoke. “If someone says they forgive they are either lying or no longer care. I’m prepared to do neither.”

“God can forgive! Jesus can forgive! When he returns, he’ll take your pain away, just ask him for forgiveness!”

“What right does God have to offer such forgiveness?” asked the Mariner as they walked along the dock, ever closer to the Neptune. “My sins are not his business, neither are they yours.” Suddenly he halted, so unexpectedly McConnell almost walked straight into his back.

They were not alone on the dock, ahead stood Grace, looking out at sea. A light breeze kicked up her hair revealing pale and tragic features. They were set, staring longingly at the horizon.

The Mariner walked over to her and got down on his haunches. “You can’t come with me. I’m damned. I have devils that kill. I have addictions that gnaw. All I touch turns to rot. There’s nothing for you if you come.”

“What about the zoo?”

“It’s gone,” said McConnell from behind the Mariner. “The Shattering has taken it away.”

“I can’t take you there,” the Mariner told the small girl. “It doesn’t exist.”