Chapter 6 - “My Great-Great-Grandfather’s Eyes”

The next day at the university crawled along for all the members of the paranormal studies club. The events that had transpired so far in the last twenty-four hours were almost too tough to digest, despite their lives revolving around studying the very types of subjects that were suddenly making their presences known. It was one thing to read well researched literature, see pictures of circumstantial evidence and listen to experts pontificate in great detail about life beyond the living veil but now they lived in the grey area where facts could not simply be accepted at face value. From here on out, their worldview had to be reassessed to include each new revelation and see where did they fit amidst the grand scheme that was their spiritual and physical existence.

All of the existential dread was only further challenged by the otherworldly affliction that had sent Thawee into her unexpected rehabilitation. Thien had  convinced Khluen that the premise of the cocoon was backed up with enough energy evidence so that they could put their faith in previously uncertain places. The webs were friendly, much more so than the very beast that sank its transcendent fangs into her astral body. Only time would vindicate the group of their battle efforts and rid Khluen of his guilt for masterminding the very plot that incapacitated his club member.

For now, Khluen was absent mindedly attending his thermodynamics class under the well regarded Professor Faulk, drawing on his paper unrelated ramblings rather than the integrals being discussed on the board. He was a straight A student who could get by with the bare minimum attention span during class as he was fully capable of not only absorbing but applying the topics into work examples almost immediately. This was the way his mind worked when patterns and formulas were involved, slipping things into their place in a free-flowing and intuitive manner. It was this skill that allowed his enchantment abilities to flourish at a young age. The wave-like essence of spiritual energy flowing through material objects spoke to him, revealing their variables so he could analyse and rearrange their pathways in a transformative application.

He, like all the others in the club, saw his abilities appear out of nowhere during his childhood; the same way kids discover they’re good at kicking balls or keeping rhythm with a musical instrument. For Khluen, he was always tracing his fingers on surfaces and objects, tapping into the vibrations that were reverberating through the spiritual mesh that connected all matter. His family had attributed it to a stimulation need, potentially being a sign of possible neurotypical conditions but it was too unfamiliar for them to recognize the habit for what it was. It wouldn’t be until he saw science fiction or fantasy movies depicting magic or fantastical technology that he would consider the fact that he had a gift that he was supposed to nurture, despite it only being a sensation of the flesh at this present moment. He was old enough to know these movies and stories were fiction but there were movies based on lived experiences with cowboys, mafiosos and athletes; it should be possible that somewhere in human existence, there were people inspired by strange lived experiences, seeing reality in a way that others were unable to see.

Eventually, he interacted with a locket in his home,  a family heirloom from a distant relative,  and felt a particularly strong energy field resonating off the stone that was lodged in the top cover. Inside was a picture of his great-great--grandfather, a photograph taken the best way that was possible at such a time in the past with its faded colors and blueish hues, and it was passed down to the first born of each batch of children down the family bloodline. Khluen’s mother was given the locket and by now, the stories behind the man in the picture were far too removed to carry detailed lore, for he only was told that he was a grain farmer who was particularly good at constructing and maintaining his own farm tools, a rural engineer with a family and the rest was a blur.

When Khluen touched this locket, he could feel a pulse as if it was a beating heart. At this point in his young life, he had tried and failed to have his family relate or recognize his metaphysical ability but he passed it to his mom anyways for her to have a chance at feeling what he did.

“Yes son, that’s probably where you get your smarts from. That man could do everything and didn’t need anyone’s help. Except for your great-great-grandmother of course.” She told him. “Do you know what this stone is for? I believe it’s opal. People back then were superstitious of rival farmers placing evil eyes on them that would taint their crops. Supposedly, all you’d need to place this curse was an image that resembled the person well enough. So just in case it got into the wrong hands, this stone is supposed to ward off anyone using his picture to place a curse on him. These were not the days of modern science, anyhow.”

She had no idea how effective the stone actually was serving its purpose, or so Khluen theorized, not knowing how to place an evil eye and not having been cursed himself as far as he knew. The fact that there was a tangible presence, at least to him, meant that there was some truth to it. Day after day, he’d trace his fingers around the stone and relive the strongest sensation that he’d felt at this point so far, seeing if it had the means of helping him elevate and explore the gift he had. During his sleep one night, his eyes opened but there was no certainty in consciousness as Khluen’s body was unable to move. He was fourteen at the time but felt the primal fear that only a four year old hearing an uncomfortable noise underside the bed could have. No matter how hard he tried to move his limbs, only his eyes were capable of movement and when they adjusted to the darkness of the room, a slim figure with no eyes was seen, perched on his bed post and hunched over like a primate behind a cage at the zoo.

The figure didn’t move close to him the first time he saw it, only licking its lips with a long, grey tongue covered in lumpy granular obstructions and scratching its legs with pointed fingertips.  However, he’d eventually fall back asleep and when he awoke, nothing remained but the nightmarish memory. This unknown entity returned for a second visit, this time beginning to slowly crawl towards Khluen locked in his stale state, unable to open his mouth and scream. Just as the previous visit, it ended when his eyes shut and sleep returned. There would be more visit but this time, the locket of his departed ancestor was in his hand. The wingless gray gargoyle-like monster stood up earlier than usual and began to crawl on top of the bed covers with no eyes to peer into. Khluen was incapacitated once again but he could feel the locket in his hand as if droplets of water were being absorbed into his skin. With every synapse in his brain focused on this reverberating energy, his body gained movement back and he sprang to his feet and stood before the monster.

It stood up as well, its deceptive shape elongating as it unfurled vertically. Khluen should have felt more fear than ever at the sight of the beast but instead he puffed out his chest and clenched the locket tighter than ever. He held the locket out at arms length, just mere centimeters away from the monster’s torso when it began to clutch and writhe in pain. Khluen couldn’t be sure if this creature was the physical embodiment of a curse or an escaped demon from hell but the stone that bore his grandfather’s wishes of protection was doing what it was destined to do.

Eventually the figure dissolved in the shadows in the corner of the room, without so much as a whimper. Khluen set down the locket and maintained his mobility, feeling the shift in the room’s energy returning to the comfort that he’d always known.

The next morning, he looked into the locket to observe the stone and noticed several cracks that were not previously there, showing that the service it provided last night wasn’t without cost. Now Khluen began to fear that the figure could return again and again, until the stone was rendered useless.

For this reason, he sat and meditated for several days while holding the locket. He had never been instructed on proper technique or methods of meditation but just followed his gut and let his mind memorize each of the sensations that coursed through his body while holding the stone. Then he began to let go of the locket and tried to maintain the sensations with nothing in his hand at all. Each time, the period that the energy remained tangible extended longer and longer. It was at this level of familiarity that he decided he would try his first enchantment, repeating the same methods but holding a new object in his hand of something that held great importance to him.

First, a trading card from a game that was based off a fantasy tv-show, then a cloth patch with his favorite band’s logo printed on and finally, several action figures that his dad had gifted him each birthday since he was seven. Now in his meditative state, it was as if the entire room was now in a bubble of the energy that was once stored in his locket. Even though the life of his great-great-grandfather had mostly faded away from living memory, his presence could not have been more alive at this moment, as if his breaths were still being drawn on this plane.

This was the only time before that Khluen had felt the presence of an otherworldly figure invade his life. Since then, he was inspired to continue his efforts of researching and developing his own enchantments, exploring the world during school vacations thanks to his well-off financially family and coming into contact with people who claimed to feel similar to how he felt. He had gone to rural villages and practiced medicine with witch doctors; he traveled to third world nations where spiritual guides unbothered by modern technology recognized him for his natural talents; he had come face to face with scamming psychics who peddled bogus, for-profit trinkets onto the vulnerable clients that were only searching for help. The good and the bad, he had developed his own style of psychic ability and for this, he was a fitting candidate for club president, even though it was his by default of founding the club and being its only member in the first year.

But with today’s club being the largest iteration so far, each member still recognized Khluen as the studious and fearless president that the club deserved for the work that he had already put in thus far. It was his time to prove his worth by guiding the club through this most turbulent time and into a renaissance movement that would change the world’s own perception of reality.

The only problem now was the club is officially dead. At least as far as the university was concerned. The club’s operations would have to go back to where all paranormal investigations historically took place - some guy’s basement.