Sunday, July 7, 2013

Dead Rite chapter 151.14

“But you would, surely?” Harold reached across and pinched the imp's arm.

“Ouch. What was that for?”

“To prove you're real. You're not just a figment of my imagination.”

“How? How does pinching my arm prove that? I'm real to you. You know it. I know it.” He gestured at Lucy. “Even she knows it, but for all of that we exist in the same shared reality. For all I know, you're in a fever induced dream and you've made everything up.”

“That's impossible. You're self aware.”

“But I'd believe that if you'd made me up, wouldn't I?”

“If I'd made you up, you wouldn't be arguing that I might have made you up.”

“I could be an artificial construct, inserted into your delusion by the bit of you that still realised you're delusional.”

“But I've known you for five years.”

“You think you have, yes, but you could have invented all those memories too.”

Harold scooped up another forkful of egg and sausage. He chewed slowly, using the fork as an extension of his hand to gesticulate at Devious. “You must exist because everyone exists. You, Jasfoup, Frederick, Gillian, Lucy. The house, even. How would I afford Laverstone Manor without you lot?”

Devious placed a scaly paw on his arm. “You invented them all, Harold. Honestly, how likely is all this, really? A best friend who's a demon, a imp for a servant, a vampire girlfriend and an angelic daughter. I mean, everyone thinks their daughter is an angel but you had go that step further and make it literal. It's all in your head.”

Harold laughed and made short work of the remaining breakfast. Lucy was still picking at her scrambled eggs or he would have eaten that too. He gesticulated with the fork one final time. “Good try, Doctor Freud, but you're not fooling anyone.”

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