The Interview
“Do you recognize your freedoms when they are presented to you?”
“I recognize that freedom is always present to me and a matter of choice. Though…not always a simple one”.
“Do you, then, choose your freedoms when you recognize them?”
“Ah, no. No I don’t. Not always”.
“But you are aware? When you choose out of an opportunity to liberate yourself?”
“Liberate”, I repeat. “Opportunity…Freedom. None of these words have meaning on their own. Liberate from what? Opportunity how? And freedom…all relative. You've not traveled all this way just to quiz me on abstracts, I think. No, what you're here to discover is whether or not I know myself. And the answer is yes. Or truly, you would not have come.”
I watch the stranger lean back in his chair, half a smile playing on his lips.
“Let’s assume,” I continue, “that I decide to take your offer. You entrust me with a task that places my life in peril, and as that removes from your power this rather significant element of leverage, the only way you can guarantee that I will not turn tail and abandon your mission is if you can trust me. And you can only trust me if you believe I know myself, yes?”
He gestures his assent, keeping his eyes level with my own.
“And you are this very moment asking yourself: Do I know I can commit to what you ask of me? Do I know I believe in your cause? Do I know what I risk by forming an alliance with you?”
He squares his shoulders, facing me fully and relaxing his guard. I pause to sip from the cocktail he’s procured for me. Blood-Orange Martini. Whimsical choice.
“But a man's self-knowledge can’t be measured by an exchange of words. And this interview is merely serving as an opportunity to…liberate you…from any doubts you have about my resolve.”
I raise the glass again to meet my companion’s steady gaze.
“So I choose the freedom present to us both. Freedom from the living, and sojourn into the realm of your command. Until such time as you no longer need my services and liberate me, as we’ve agreed, to absolute eternal rest.”
With that I drain the glass. The elixir has already begun to take effect, and my body turns an inhuman degree of cold.
My companion grins then, unreservedly, revealing glistening fangs that I can only trust will one day free me forever.
