Heart of Air

At the candle's light,

I look, and yes,

There is a wind.

-- Hester Hamilton

Chinook -- Refers to the warm downslope wind in the Rocky Mountains that may occur after an intense cold spell when the temperature could rise by 20 to 40 degrees Fahrenheit in a matter of minutes. Also known as the Snow Eater.

***

Last night I met, upon the stair, a little man who wasn't there. He wasn't there again today, oh how I wish he'd go away.

I am stalked by that man, only he isn't little at all. He's as broad as the night and twice as fearsome. The Batman. Lately he has turned into that man-- he isn't here. He hasn't been here for weeks as far as I can tell. I test him every night, trying to see how far I can poke my hollow head out of the ground before a bit of my hair is sliced off.

The rope around my neck swung gently and the heavy hangman's knot banged into my arm. Things were changing around this place, now that the Batman was gone. And the kids he hung out with...no sign of them either. My heart was light in my chest. This was better than Christmas.

Each night was a new possibility. Thus far, I had conducted experiments at the docks (two subjects drowned, one by his own hand) and along the fringes of the red light district (four subjects). Tonight was icing--the subway at midnight. Anything can happen there, they'd say, without really expecting anything to happen at all.

"But what if something did happen, my lovelies? What would you do then? You would choke in your own fear until it drowned you right there in the plain air."

I plunged the hypodermic into the vial, drawing out the exact amount of liquid I needed. I didn't need much. The agent was airborne. Truthfully, a few molecules would have done, but I was eager to see what a more intense dosage would accomplish. I stumbled across the formula one evening when I was trying to make a double-strength batch of my standard fear serum. What was most fascinating about this particular mixture--apart from its potency--was that its effect was negation. Neither the increase nor decrease of fear as I'd studied in the past, only the simple, powerful impression that the subject was alone in the world. It was enough, I'd discovered, to make even the most confirmed misanthrope teeter over that knife's edge into screaming terror. Deny the world as much as you like, but what if there suddenly isn't anyone in the world to deny?

Several well-placed bombs did the trick. There was something satisfying about seeing the canisters strapped in place with neatly cut bands of tape. Midnight seemed as good a time as any for the test, but it could have just as well been 11:21 or 8:46 or 9:17. As long as everything was recorded neatly for posterity, who was I to quibble over the precise timing of the thing? That's for obsessive-compulsive control freaks like the Clock King. Those things didn't bother me.

11:48 PM: last test subjects boarded the train at Willow Avenue stop; eight of them--five men and three women all between the ages of 20 and 45

11:55 PM: assistants sealed door between last two cars and rest of train to prevent gas leakage (NOTE: end door and all windows sealed prior to this)

11:58 PM: two subjects appeared suspicious; one (Caucasian male, dark hair, 22) discovered one of the canisters, his companion (Caucasian female, red hair, 22) attempted to open the windows (NOTE: fear in their faces--delicious)

11:59 PM: all six canisters discovered, subjects in uproar; original discoverers attempt to break windows; cracks appear in door between my car and theirs

12:00 AM: experiment initiated; gas leakage into my car

Oh. God.

My head was hollow and the wind screamed through it. After all, I was the straw man. The hollow man. The man and the woman stood over me, but then they disappeared and I was alone.

Sometimes, I'm still alone. Figures come and go; sometimes through doors, sometimes fading like ghosts into the walls.