Page 50 of Fragments
“The thing about evil,” she whispers, “is that it masquerades as good. Trueevildoesn’t look like a monster with horns and a forked tongue. It’s beautiful, charming, and powerful… An exceptional liar, and amasterat manipulating its camouflage.”
She falls quiet once more. And I sit, helpless, with my mind aching in emotional logic.
“There are noheroesin this world, Lex. Just villains with a better disguise.”
I feel like my sanity is wearing thin, and that’s something that worries me deeply.
I’ve always prided myself on being a very grounded person. Social hang-ups aside, I keep it real. I understand who I am, my strengths and my weaknesses. I choose not to let emotions get the best of me, because actingrationallyis the best way to keep from floating away in a cloud of the unknown.
No, sir. Not me.
Lex Luthor Deon will stay right here on solid ground, thank you very much.
But ever since that conversation with Leah a couple of weeks ago, when the grand illusion was shattered like a plate of glass being brought down over my super smart noggin, I’ve been cruising up the delusion highway, watching my grip on reality disappear in the rearview mirror.
Leah and I left things the only way we could… With her promising to keep in touch, and me promising not to do anything crazy, like tell someone what she’d confessed to me.
Obviously, I’m not stupid. Any attempt I could make at getting her to safety and exposing the truth would just put us both in danger.
But that hasn’t stopped me from spending every waking minute thinking about it.
I’m not much of a conspiracy guy, because I like my information based infact. That said, I’m also not a sheep. Blind following just because someonetells you todirectly contradicts our ability to think cognitively.
We’resupposedto question things. Our minds are made to do it.
Human trafficking exists. Child sex slavery is real. But the majority of us view it as objective tragedies we occasionally read about in the news; horrors we assume wouldneveraffectus.
Because if it were a real, active threat, they’d be doing something to stop it…Right?
For me, this is no longer just astory. It happened—ishappening—to someone I know. Someone I love.
And so, the more I thought about it, the more I’ve continued to think about it. Andobsessover it.
I can’t sleep, I’ve barely eaten… I’ve lost all focus on schoolwork. This thing has woven its way around all the logic and rationality I possess, because who arethey, anyway? What do we really know aboutthem? Enough to put all of our blind faith and trust in them doing theright thing…?
Leah’s words play over and over in my brain, like a song on repeat that you’ve listened to so many times, you start hearing things you didn’t notice before.
Evil masquerades as good.
Heroes are just villains with a better disguise.
And while I’ve never given any stock to the internet’s brand ofPizzagate, New World Order, 9/11 was an inside jobbullshit, I seem to have slowly but very surely fallen into an insomnia-ridden caffeine-fueled hole of doubt and endless questions.
Because if the people at the topwereinvolved in something so nefarious… wouldn’t they do everything in their power to keep it quiet?
In 1990, state and federal grand juries dismissed allegations of a child prostitution ring organized by a well-known Nebraska politician. Despite a shit-ton of evidence, they still called it a “carefully crafted hoax,” and shut down all further investigations.
But then the victims received money from a civil settlement…
The CIA, the FBI, everyone was fully aware of what was happening, and yetnothingwas done to stop it. Which would lead one to believe these organizations had a vested interest in keeping it going.
I mean, are we to believe that Epstein was working alone??
Yea… I’m saying things like that now.
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The thing is, I know I’m chasing a white rabbit. I know I probably sound crazy and look crazy… Empty cans of Mountain Dew and pizza crusts scattered all around my desk. Bloodshot eyes from a lack of sleep and staring at screens for way too long.
