Causality - 3. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

(Alex’s excerpt From Book of Fate)

It took several hours of referencing individual elements, but I have narrowed down the possibilities to 3 rituals based on the facts within the murders, which seem to be the clearest link between energy, celestial alignments, and birth order. All these facts fit the pattern. Since the bioenergy depletion was so complete, I assume this guy was performing an “actual” ritual, not just a psychopath with visions. Rituals, like these three, were some of the Tao-Ming’s earliest experiments with human energy potential. We did not have a code of ethics back then. During this period, the Tao-Ming discovered each human being had a slightly different energy pattern, which can be combined to produce different results. A celestial alignment means a slightly different gravitational balance affecting the earth’s tides and electromagnetic field. Finally, during a sharing of concepts between Taoists and Buddhists, further understanding was reached concerning the consequence of reincarnation during the Warring States period. Birth order is affected by the trans-dimensional migration of the soul between states. This knowledge led to one of our greatest and cruelest creations, the Chinese Zodiac.

During the Qin Dynasty, Emperor Shi Huang Di had imprisoned almost the entire Taoist-Mohist community to develop his thousand year regime. He wanted to create massive slave armies of millions to build his monuments, but there was a fundamental problem with his desires. There were not enough human beings alive at the time or potential souls to create such a massive population. A Taoist came upon the idea of using animal souls and augmenting them into the human reincarnation cycle. Thus, 10 out of the 12 animals in the Chinese zodiac were sacrificed en masse to meet the quota. The Chinese zodiac was not meant to be an astrology joke; it served as an ancient scarlet letter, you were not human to begin with and should be treated as a lower form of life. Dragons and primates were the only two exempt; apes are our evolutionary forbearers and would automatically be part of our reincarnation cycle as we would be part of their cycle. Dragons are a more complex issue and ties into the technology that allowed us to be so advanced; their ancestry goes back 65 million years to the Cretaceous period.

Dragon souls hold a very peculiar resonance, which allows for several things to occur:

1. Portal creation to temporarily bridge a set distance in space based on the amount of living energy sacrificed. Such a portal would be similar to a wormhole. It is unusable for human beings, but not spectral beings that are based on energy and consciousness. “Mainstream” science imagines all life in the universe must have physical form to be considered alive, but in reality, most life exists as energy, not matter.

2. Transference of material from the Earthly realm to a transition point in Da Yu. This would mean the killer’s aim was to bring someone back or transfer someone to Hell. Hell is not merely the cauldrons of hot oils and fiery infernos, it serves a second purpose as a transition point in reincarnation and processing of the dead. It’s like a giant “Registry” department with human souls waiting for their turn at reincarnation, so I guess you can call it “bureaucratic hell”.

3. Birth ceremony for a powerful human-hybrid. This ritual would allow the creation of a literal “demon” in Chinese mythology. In practical terms, the energy required in this ritual creates a creature, imbued with immense vitality surpassing 1,000 years.

Any of these could be possible and I fear for all of the potential victims. Earlier, I notified the leaders of the 5 Elements to be wary and do an inventory on our resources due to the recent murders. I knew the Earth, Wood, and Fire Elemental groups may likely be halfhearted in my request for inventory without my brother’s acceptance, which he did not feel was necessary, but offered a “volunteer-based” inventory count. Only, Cai of the Metal Elemental and Li of the Water elemental both agreed with me, this was a serious concern. We were friends during training and I was glad they had mastered their disciplines to become the respective leaders. Luckily, the Metal elemental group held the most equipment and the water elemental group had the best bioenergy transfer equipment out of the five.

I wish I could tell Sid what he was facing, but I can’t reveal the details to him. I know this is unfair to the guy, but there are certain things no one is supposed to know, even an empath. Ancient masters developed genetic engineering techniques to nullify telepathic and empathetic abilities from working on any of us. Of course, they wanted to eat the cake as well and be able to read and control thoughts. This experimentation led to the development of our leadership structure through selective breeding based on intelligence, genetic traits of empathy/telepathy, and physical attributes. In other words, we were the first group of people to actively practice eugenics.

Statistically, one child every generation would have both telepathic and empathetic abilities. My family line was statistically estimated as the most likely, but I proved to be “inferior” for the engineering technique, having developed neither gift. Due to my parents’ inability at sexual restraint, I was born in 1978, the year of the Horse, a lowly beast of burden in an otherwise “superior” gene pool. However, 2 years later, my younger brother was born with both gifts in 1980, the year of the Monkey. I was ignored for most of my childhood as a statistical fluke, except by my best friend, Patrick, who was your average Chinese boy with a Nintendo and Sega Genesis game system. He was born in 1979, the year of the sheep. I grew up like a normal kid without being trained as thoroughly as my brother in the 5 elemental studies. Yet, at age 14, the Book of Fate came to me and announced me as its holder. The book landed in my bed as a regular leather-bound encyclopedia with my name literally on it in Chinese. Traditionally, the Book of Fate would go to the leader of all 5 elements as it was programmed by whoever sent it, but it usually chooses based on strength, not weakness over the last few thousand years. The book is sentient and intelligent, which is why it chose an iPad to maintain its current illusion. We assume it’s a type of advanced artificial intelligence or bioengineered entity, but it never reveals its true nature. From age 14 to 18, I went through rigorous training in all 5 elemental studies under the guise of going to a private high school. My only consolation was spending time with Patrick during holidays and a few summers. I preferred being with him and his family, because there was no pressure or expectations. We both developed an attraction for one another and we became boyfriends. The Tao-Ming have nothing against homosexuality, but it is still scandalous in Chinese culture due to Confucian values, so we both kept it secret.

I never believed for one moment I would live my life without him. I was a mess for days trying to hunt down the pieces of his soul, which for some reason had been scattered across a wide perimeter from the scene of the car accident that took his life. I have my suspicions the entire thing was not an accident, but I had no evidence and Patrick could not remember much of his last night on earth. I was angry at myself for not being there with him, for not dying with him. Of all the things in the world, I would rather have a half-wit boyfriend than all the power and status in the world.

Due to my forbidden actions to help Patrick using our technology, the 5 leaders at the time broke with tradition and settled for my brother as the next leader due to my many “flaws” and “bad judgments”. They tried to force the Book of Fate to choose my brother, but it denied their request and claimed “their actions shall have grave penalties”. At 35 years old, I look back on all the crap and still would have chosen Patrick over a title. It’s been 16 years after Patrick’s death; the Book’s warnings have not come into effect and most of the leaders, including my brother have ignored it.

Why do I get lost in nostalgia so easily? I have to refocus my thoughts back on the present.

Patrick returned almost on cue to my distress, and telepathically says, “Thinking about the past again, huh?”

If there’s one thing I admire about him in life and death, he has good timing, “Give me some good news about the crime scenes and spirit witnesses.”

Patrick reported there were no spirits of the victims in Da Yu. It did not surprise me due to the extreme energy drain in their bodies; their souls probably were completely consumed. However, the lack of witness accounts from other spirits in the vicinity did raise issues with me. They all indicated a strong energy field surrounding the area prior to the murders either preventing them from entering or expelling them. One victim was murdered next to a cemetery. Any field that strong should have created power outages and electrical shorts, but nothing was reported. To my knowledge, only the Fire and Metal elemental groups had such advanced knowledge in spectral isolation fields. They would never use it in such a manner.

Sid had a file in his hand and a serious look on his face, “I’ve got 7 names for tomorrow’s expected murder. If we can get them to safe houses, we can stop this nut job.”

Some good news at last, but it does not solve all our problems, the ones I can’t tell him about, “Patrick is having trouble finding witnesses, even near the cemetery crime scene. It is very unusual.”

Sid shrugs his shoulders, “Listen, don’t take this the wrong way, I’ve only known Patrick for a few hours, but I think it’s not them, it’s him.”

I can’t help but laugh. Why is this guy such a “dead”-pan comedian? He’s worse than Patrick, “Okay, we have to notify NYPD, local FBI, and Federal Marshals, a serial killer may be on the loose with these specific criteria for his targets.”

Using both official and unofficial contacts, we rounded up the entire network of law enforcement and placed all 7 kids under protection for 24 hours. It’s a weird case, but most law enforcement guys have seen odd MO’s from serial killers. All we can do now is pray this works. I book our flight for tomorrow morning from Dulles to New York, in order to coordinate and gather ground information, maybe even a visit to the crime scenes.

Sid looked lost in his thoughts as time was wearing on. I wanted to pull out the book and read up on how he is doing, but it felt wrong after what happened between his empathy and the Book of Fate. I can guess it’s probably due to the possession. Genetic engineering prevents me from being possessed by a foreign spirit and the usual policy for people who have been possessed is memory erasure. I could do that to him later, but if we are going to be partners and he is going to continue using his natural abilities, he needs to defeat his own fear. After his temporary assignment is over in this division, his memories will most likely be selectively erased in any case. With this in my thoughts, the book vibrates in my bag. The vibration was incredibly strong, enough to shake the desk. Sid also notices the odd occurrence.

He twists his head left and right slightly before asking like an owl, “What is your book doing?”

I open the iPad with a simple swipe, displaying a search bar and the time as a result, “Looks like it is just telling us it’s quitting time. We’ve been in here for 12 hours straight, it’s already 9 PM”.

I’m lying to him; the Book of Fate is sentient and knows when a question should be asked. There are three ways to ask a question: I can ask the book verbally, type or write it out, or ask it a question directly from my mind. I usually use the last option as it is the most secure.

In my mind I ask the book, while maintaining visual contact with Sid, “How can I help Sidney Sam Po-Tai with his psychological issues? Direct answer in English please”. The book flickers to attention and a set of Chinese characters came to view: “借屍還魂”, literally translated as “borrow a corpse to resurrect the soul”. It ignored my request for English, instead giving me Chinese; I hate artificial intelligence with an attitude. I do not need a lesson on the 36 stratagems from the book, but an idea comes to me from the old idiom. Sometimes, this thing reads like a fortune cookie; you have to make your own conclusions. Probably the way it wants to work. However, if that is the course, then I would be breaking rules of non-interference.

Instinctively, Patrick came to me about tomorrow’s itinerary, “I will “flicker” myself to the airport when you get there. I can show you the haunts in the area I covered today.”

I ask my boyfriend, “I think Sid needs a spirit intervention tonight, I will invite him over to stay with us.”

Patrick gave off a shit-eating grin, the same one I remember as far back as elementary school, “Sure, are you joining in? I could draw out his ling huan at home, you would not be held accountable if they discover what we’re doing.”

I trust Patrick not to take advantage of Sid, but I understand how to control spirit states better and he only had a few experiences, “I will join in, we need to get into those memories from earlier. The book insinuated I had to do this, even though it knows the action is against the rules.”

A spirit intervention is complex and goes towards certain aspects of human physiology and psychology. A human soul or Ling huan 靈魂 is composed of 7 pieces, translate as the “Spirit soul”. It sounds oxymoronic in English, but in Chinese “Ling” and “Huan” are two separate and interchangeable ideas. Each piece of the ling huan has three energy states: active energy, inactive energy, and potential energy. Due to the combinations available with the pieces and energy states, there are 116,280 separate possible energy outcomes. These outcomes create different interactions within a body from blood circulation level to the final “death state”.

In a human body, the bioenergy in the seven parts is spread out within the brain-nervous system network. There are only 10 entry points to draw out the ling huan within this network. If Patrick had to do this alone, then he would have to enter through the emotional processing point like the evil spirit which possessed Sid earlier. Instead of consuming the human soul, a ghost can also draw it out, but this method is like hitting the power button to shut down and restart a computer during a crash. It is a very crude method and causes issues of memory fragmentation.

A Tao-Ming member would use two or three access points to slowly draw out the ling huan in a progressive program to simulate death itself, or “replicate” it. There’s a fundamental difference, which effects physiological and psychological development in the affected human being.

When a traumatic event happens, the entire body is affected even if it is psychological, disrupting thought and action. The Tao-Ming has legitimate reasons for erasing all memories of a possession. I understand the tradition and even performed it more than once to spare pain. If Agent Davis had not taken his own life, I would have done the same for him, including wiping out memories of his family. There are many people in prison, who have no recollections of the crime they had committed. The world merely treats the inmate as monsters based on perceived facts, never asking the impossible question of whether they committed those crimes as “themselves”. I know to the modern world, it seems cruel to imprison the innocent, but there are no ghosts, no demons, and no advanced understanding in spiritual fields to the average man. Whether it is our secret society or governments, it is far more acceptable to lock away tangible innocent human beings than instilling a fear of the unknown in the masses.

Based on what I have read on Sid, he has held back so much crap from the past few years on top of the recent possession, it’s a miracle he is still standing. Fleshing out his soul and getting it to speak with itself will go a long way for him. If I don’t do this, his own spirit will fracture and the memories he has gathered over the years will destroy him. To everyone around him, it will appear to be a case of schizophrenia.

Patrick floated off to Sid’s side for support, so I can make the offer, “Sid, I know what happened earlier must be bugging you. I can help you, but you got to trust me. Please, come home with me. I live 20 minutes outside Charlotte, Virginia We can catch the plane at Dulles in the morning easily, too.”

I know to him it all must be absurd, being offered help from a guy he had barely met a few hours before, who has a ghost for a boyfriend and performs “magic”. Though, it’s for his own good; I hope at least one part of him understands it.

(Sid’s Excerpt from Book of Fate)

I really want to cry right now, but I can’t do it in front of these guys. All the bottled emotions from Agent Davis’ memories are bubbling up. I feel like I am going through my parents’ death all over again. Those memories from my childhood are coming to the surface, too. I’ve spent years breaking it all down and splitting those events up in my mind. Everything is returning to me.

At 16, my parents knew I had a gift at reading people, but they thought it was intuitive interpersonal skill. It got me into trouble from time to time, especially, when people were trying to keep secrets. I had friends who got scared after I revealed their secrets, like lies they told or if they had crushes on each other. Throughout my childhood, it was only my parents and my little brother kept me from being a pariah, because I didn’t know how to handle this stuff. My dad taught me to face life with courage even if I was different. My mom showed me how to embrace life and the people around me.

I wish I could have used my power to find out something more during the vacation; there was something going on near the hotel, I felt it, when we entered earlier. It gave me an uncomfortable feeling and I told my parents the truth. They laughed it off as an overactive imagination in a foreign country. They stowed our luggage away and brought us downstairs, preparing to head to a local fairground.

We were vacationing in Indonesia; the hotel was a fucking tourist trap with $5.00 bottled water. The feeling of unease kept growing, so I grabbed my little brother and waited for them near the valet station outside. I saw them asking for direction from the front desk through the glass doors. They just finished talking and were walking towards us. Inch by inch and moment by moment, please God, Buddha, or whoever let them get out the door. A fiery boom echoed through the entrance to the valet station. I saw the fiery inferno, the look of shock in my parents’ faces moments before their death, and I could feel their pain and everyone’s pain as the fire consumed them. I didn’t want to remember that part of my life, but I cannot help it.

At the moment between the flames and my parents’ imminent death, I felt something else. It was a weird feeling, it has substance and deep emotions, but no single voice is heard or observed. I know it must be death, based on my experiences in the last few decades. I wanted to follow the feeling, to where I instinctively knew my parents were heading. As hard as I try, my empathy was growing weaker and weaker with my parents’ presence. When the moment ended, I felt completely empty like the world had been ripped away from me. Erratic emotions flowed everywhere and I could hear my little brother crying for mom and dad. I was silent the entire time, trying to reach them and failing every time. I want to hear words from them, not the lingering last moments before their deaths. I want to hear one more, “We love you”.

I want to hear anything from them…..

Wait, I thought I heard words. Mom is that you? Dad say something. No, I am not 16 anymore. The bombing happened 11 years ago; I am a criminal profiler now. Where did those words come from? It must have been the man in front of me. Who is he? He’s Alex, my new partner. Did Alex say something about helping me? Can I really depend on him? I am in no fucking condition to say no.

Wait, someone else is standing besides me, he feels warm, but his touch is cold. I can see through him…It’s Patrick, Alex’s boyfriend. He’s a ghost…Mom and Dad, are you standing here, too? Show yourselves, please. I want to see you. I want to hear you…

Patrick came over to my ear, “I know it is a lot to take in. We want to help you.”

My mind wanders in and out with words from thoughts, “I want…I want…I want to hear them again.”

From that moment to Alex’s home, I don’t know how much time I spent travelling or how I reached the destination. Everything was running on autopilot. The next vivid detail I could pick up is being in a large room with several weird wires attached to me. Alex was at the controls of some computer screen and Patrick was next to him. It felt like electricity was running through my body and something was trying to make its way out. I realized I was completely naked, which added a sense of vulnerability to my jumbled thoughts. I tried to move my hands to cover my private parts; I am too tired.

Alex looked over at me shook his head, “Don’t worry, I’ve seen it all before. Besides, I need uninhibited access to all your nerve endings, which means direct connections.”

I do not know what he means, but this felt more like a science experiment than a Taoist ritual to me. In movies, Taoist masters would have candles, incense, roast pork or chicken, and a wooden sword to perform their rituals. There were never wires connected to the body or weird computer screens. The electricity started to feel colder, if that is possible. I felt something I have not felt for 16 years. It’s the same thing I felt when my parents were dying in that fiery blast.

It felt sort of relaxing like my body was letting go.

(Patrick’s excerpt from Book of Fate)

I don’t remember my death very well; I was drunk, a little high, and driving at 120 miles an hour according to the report. I know I was drinking and driving, probably at high speeds. It was definitely stupid, but I had gone clubbing without Alex; he was doing something that night. I was 18 and wanted to be like any other 18 year old college freshman, test my limits and fuck up royally a few times. Boy, did I fuck up. Alex showed me the news article with a picture of the crash, the day after he reconstructed my soul. I went to my own funeral and it was surreal to see my picture in a black and white profile. Of course the coffin was closed, thank God, because I did not want to see myself like a mangled piece crap; nor, I suspected, did my mom and dad. I do miss them; they were decent parents. Even if they expected me to be a college grad with a normal office job, they never forced it on me like some Asian families with their expectations. At my funeral, my parents cried and it made me want to cry, which made Alex cry even harder. Body sharing has its downsides; whatever I feel or Alex feels is shared between us.

I love Alex, despite everything else. In life, we had an open relationship, but sleeping with other guys never quite felt as comfortable or even remotely fulfilling as it was with Alex. I knew I was whipped and he knew it, too. I wanted to be with him, maybe work something out like rent an apartment in our junior year in between the universities. Gay marriage was not legal yet, but if I had lived, we’d probably have gone for the license, traditions and expectations be damned. It can never happen though, because I am dead. I tried to blame myself for a while, but what use is there to blame the past, it’s dead and gone. All I can do now is be by my man’s side, give a few sarcastic remarks and jokes, and support him.

Sid is dying, which is a really cool thing to watch, though a bit morbid. He had shot a load from his cock a second ago, but he is so out of it he might not even realize it. As a ghost, I shouldn’t have many complex thoughts or recollections, but thanks to what Alex did for me, I can borrow his brain and hot body to process it. Alex is the love of my life and afterlife; even if he snores at night and wears only his boxers around the house, I’d prefer him without the boxers. Sure, sexually, I can only do a ghostly hand job or a ghostly fuck without having the arousal, but it doesn’t change who I am.

I know Sid isn’t really dying, but it brings back some ugly memories. Regrets are things the dead have in spades.

Sid’s “Ling Huan” begins to appear, but the pieces were not forming a complete soul, “What is wrong with him?”

Alex, without breaking concentration from the 3D screen in front of him, replies “His mental fragmentation is causing his spirit to break into individual pieces, forming seven personality traits. Patrick, can you help me find his mental piece and I will find his spiritual core piece?”

Easy, there are only 7 version of Sid in front of us with subconscious visual cues for identification:

1. A child crying softly
2. A teenager screaming at everyone
3. A smoking hot version giving me and Alex lustful looks
4. A well-dressed version with a massive metal screw in his head, most likely the mental piece
5. A sickly version in hospital garb
6. An elderly version with a cane and long beard
7. Lastly, a version who looks like a gold Buddhist statue

I am glad I did not have to identify the spiritual core. If I had to do this on my own without the gadgets and tools, it’d be like using a kitchen knife to do surgery. The mental piece is easy to guess and isolate due to the tension and imagery Sid had come up with, but the spirit core is what defines the person. It is the piece of you which transcends life and death; it is what carries the rest of your soul through reincarnation into the next life. Looking at the pieces now, if I had to make a real guess maybe the Buddhist statue could be his spirit core or it might just be part of his identification with faith.

Based on what Alex has told me, there’s no one true religion per se, but we all do identify with particular faiths or ideologies in our spirit or consciousness, even atheists ironically within their consciousness manifests similar projections. Faith is an aspect of our souls, but it does not get carried over into the reincarnation cycle, since it is “active” only in the “current” version of a person. Makes sense, the world would not have so many religions if there was only a set amount of faith in everyone’s soul.

Knowing what I need to do, I guided the well-dressed Sid with the head trauma off to one side and waited for Alex to find the spirit core.

Alex asks them all a question, “Who are you?”

They all answer in unison, “Sidney Sam Po-Tai”, with the teenage version adding the line, “who the fuck you think I am?”, the child sniffling, “I want to go home”, the hot version coaxing “I’ll be whatever you want me to be”, and the old man pointing his cane, “I’m too old to be answering stupid questions.”

Looks like Alex narrowed down his search to two, a sickly looking Sid and the Buddhist statue version, “To the two who did not add extra comments, why do you claim to be Sidney Sam Po-Tai?”

The Buddha statue answers first, “It is my earthly reflection for I have not achieved a higher understanding in my life to separate from the world’s sufferings.”

The sickly one answers, “I am who I am, nothing can change the truth. I am tired and sick, but I remain true to myself. We will all go through birth, aging, sickness, and death; I am no different than those around me. They are part of me and I am part of them.”

Alex looks at the sickly one quizzically, “You are his spirit core, but I find it odd you’d represent yourself as a sick man. Your mental portion is already ill due to this lifetime’s use of your biological abilities, but why are you sick? There have not been many cases of a spirit core being ill.”

He floats away from his fellow “pieces” towards Alex, “A young Tao-Ming member like you, even the holder of the Book of Fate, has much to learn about human suffering. It extends beyond one lifetime, beyond one individual soul. I am sick, because the world is sick. A disease was seeded in the world by mankind due to ignorance. You should take your own wisdom, because it shall be your spirit for knowledge leads mankind to another era, if you do not deny it. The Tao-Ming is unafraid to seek new frontiers, but you alone know where to find yourself and your heart. Mankind needs to know itself in order to heal its own wounds.”

Alex nods, “You seem very knowledgeable about me, but I do not know much about you. If I were to guess, I would say you’re an exiled immortal or perhaps a Deva level being. Are you not afraid revealing destiny would bring the wrath of others? Surely, you must follow the rules of…”

The sickly Sid did not listen to Alex’s inquiry, but floats to me and his injured mental self, “A mind cannot hold the suffering of all those in the world, release your pain in the future and follow a middle path between ignorance and knowledge. To take on suffering in its fullest form is not the only way”, he turns towards me, “Even as a spirit, your love is strong, if you can open your heart to others in the same manner, there may be hope. While love is fleeting in one lifetime, it offers potential, an infinite potential that can last beyond mortal limitations as you have shown with the other through your lifetimes.”

It touched me on another level, not physical, spiritual, or sexual, but it felt like I was being praised by someone close to me. It felt like the first time I got an A on a test and my parents had to hang it up on the fridge. There was pride in it, but it did not feel like the arrogant type of pride you get from personal achievements. It is a gold star of my choices leading to this moment. I know Alex probably felt the same way as well with the commendation from this guy, but he likes to play tough guy.

Alex began recalibrating his machine again, “It’s a pleasure to meet you sir and I hope your wisdom imparted to your mental portion will carry forward, but we cannot maintain this level of near death forever. I was hoping you could help release some of the pent up...”

The screw in the well-dressed Sidney’s mind is disappearing as Alex speaks; the sickly version was holding it in his hands, “A piece of suffering begat by hatred, pain, and loss. The world needs to find its balance once more. I can only do so much…”

Sid was convulsing slightly, breaking out in a sweat, and his hard cock began to ejaculate. The entire process is based around the moment between sexual orgasms, which simulate death according to Alex. I find it quite interesting that the process of sexual conception is also linked to the process of death. The pieces of him coalesce around the sickly version in a brilliant point of light and then they disappear into nothing. There is a dead calm in the room and I could tell Alex is curious. Sid is more than an empath, but he doesn’t know it. He probably will not remember the conversation between his core and us.

I glance over at Alex; he shrugs “He’s an exiled ascended soul. It sounds like he chose to self-exile rather than a criminal offense to be exiled from his plane of existence. Ethereal beings always have their big plans and ideas about salvation and world peace. I am not surprised. Few of them have ever carried it through and even when they did; it’s only a momentary peace. Maybe he will start his own religion or something.”

I do not know everything about Tao-Ming encounters with higher beings, but that felt weird, “So, did he just say you made the right choice? It could clear up all the problems with the others. I mean, what if we bring Sid to the…”

Alex cut me off, “Most of the leaders and my brother would be more pissed we helped Sid than interested in hearing out the wisdom of an ascended being. Besides, I think Sid’s spirit core followed the Buddhist route towards ascension, not the Taoist. It’s always been a touchy subject with them. I don’t want to get too deep into a thousand year old feud”.

I’ve heard about immortals and ascended beings from both Chinese traditions and the little bits and pieces I’ve picked up from Alex over the years. Yet, I never met a Buddhist version before. I remember watching old TV shows like Dark Tales and Journey to the West, where both sides live side by side in the heavenly realms. I guess reality is different between Taoist deities and Buddhist ascended beings. Though, on a plus side, they’re not homophobic assholes, who will not let you through the pearly gates like some people believe.

Sid begins to stir a bit and I know he will be up soon, “Alex what should we tell him, when he wakes up?”

As Alex walks over to remove Alex’s wire connections, he turns towards me, “We will keep the rough stuff away from him. Remember the rules are to maintain secrecy and treat this stuff like magic. His ascended spirit might know the truth, but we can’t reveal it to him ourselves. If he discovers things, it is his right as an ascended being to keep the knowledge for whatever purpose he seeks as long as it does not violate the rules of nature. Since he’s probably of the Buddhist line, the Tao-Ming does not allow me to help him in his mission. It’s catch-22 really.”

When Alex grabs the last wire located near Sid’s lower back, he had to reach around and bumped Sid’s hardening cock, at which point, Sid opens his eyes. I could see the frantic look on Sid’s face as Alex was pulling the wire from his back and awaited the fireworks.

(Sid’s Excerpt From Book of Fate)

Holy Shit, I’m naked on the floor with my new partner on top of me and I’m sporting a hard on. I can’t remember exactly what happened for the last few hours; he said he wanted to help me. I feel like I’ve got aches all over my body like when you…fuck, did we have sex? I know he’s gay and his ghost boyfriend was a flirt. Was that how they intended to make me feel better? I know sex is supposed to help release stress and I feel like all the stress and stuff is gone now. I could feel his hand, is he trying for round 2? I am grateful for the help, but we’re professionals and I do not want to make this a regular thing. I have had bad experiences dating bisexual guys who dump me for their girlfriends. I don’t want to be a 3^rd wheel in someone else’s relationship, even a guy and a ghost.

I scream at the top of my lungs, “Get off me, you asshole. I don’t want to do anymore of your Taoist ritual.”

Alex stood up with some sort of wire in his hand and gives me a kick in the gut, “So much for gratitude.”

I am furious and stand up, ready to throw a punch, but Patrick held me back and tried to calm me down “Hey, you might be feeling better, but you don’t want to open physical wounds, where mental ones used to be.”

I start to calm a little, but I want answers, “What happened to me? Why were there wires all over the place? I thought this was supposed to be a Taoist ritual, where’s the weird Chinese writing and roast pork?”

Alex tries to respond, “Well…umm…we….used a magic spell to put you to sleep and cure your mental issues from the possession earlier.”

I did not believe him at all, “Then why do I feel aches all over me and what were the wires for? Why am I sweaty? Why is cum all over me?”

Patrick floats in front of me, “Okay, you got us. We had group sex together to release all your stress. The wires are so I could be part of it, because ghosts can manipulate electricity and further relax you.”

It is an absurd, stupid, and crazy way to solve someone’s stress issues, but I can’t really doubt the results. Alex looked like a truck had slammed into him when Patrick said it. It’s either true or Patrick is going to get an earful later. At the moment, I have more trust in the friendly ghost than in the unfriendly Taoist forensic expert. I’ve had sex with weirder guys in the past, and have been tied to a swing for 6 hours straight at a bondage club, so it isn’t like the end of the world to go through a threesome with an attractive looking guy and his emotionally attractive ghostly boyfriend. At least, we released our sexual tension, right? I guess, my knee jerk reaction to Alex was overkill. Dammit, I want these guys to be friends, why am I always a few inches from tossing a punch at Alex?

Alex shrugs me off and leaves the room with Patrick at my side consoling me, “Sid, you and Alex have got to work some aggression shit out. I advise SSB therapy with some snacks for tonight.”

I blinked twice at what he said, “What?”

Patrick gave off a wave of amusement, “Super Smash Brothers on our Wii, we got some beers and frozen chicken wings in the fridge plus some nachos with my special dip. I can whip it all up in a few, since neither of you guys have had dinner yet.”

He really does act like an 18 year old college freshman, it’s cute. Alex comes back in with my clothes and shoes, which reminds me I am still completely naked. I felt like throwing a punch at him again, because I hate feeling like such an idiot in front of anyone. In moments, I had my clothes back on. I took my first real look around the room. The walls are made of solid granite with a passageway on two sides heading towards dark corridors. I can see a few odd instruments against the wall, a few beakers of liquids, and a strange looking computer panel. The room was dimly lit to hide all its features from my eyes, but I could not tell whether the lighting came from a single source or several. I guess Alex must have taken notes from Victor Frankenstein.

Alex comes in to lead me out; making our way through a series of corridors, arched openings, and doors towards a staircase. As I am imagining castles and monsters, I am surprised to see a well-furnished home at the top of the stairs. It looks like any bachelor pad, a few old T-shirts on the floor, some unopened letters strewn across the table, and an empty can of Budweiser on the floor. It wasn’t completely messy, as some tables and the couches were clean, plus I could tell the shelves had been dusted recently. Compared to the weird stuff in the basement, the top floor seemed like a normal home for a guy, just like my apartment in Baltimore.

I hear what I think is a cow bell ringing. Patrick comes in with a platter of nachos, chicken wings, and ice cold Budweiser, “Sit down and let’s get this party started.”

For a moment, I nearly forgot about all the strange things that happened today and that my dinner was made by ghost, but Alex reminds us all of tomorrow. “We have a case to work through tomorrow. Our flight leaves at 7 AM, so we don’t have much time in the morning.”

I could only laugh at the reminder. After everything else that happened today, “Patrick is Alex always so serious?”

Before Patrick can respond, Alex, totally out of character to me, counters, “I will show you how serious I am by beating your ass in a best out of 7! You ready to play the game?”

A little stunned by his reversal in demeanor, but not willing to back down, I grab a beer and reply, “I’m ready to kick your ass.”

Patrick floats over to my ears, “I told you he can be cold, but he’s an awesome guy. I think you two will work well together.”

Maybe this will not be a bad partnership after all.