― Thomas Ligotti
Sofia as Gorgon
Freud would find me fascinating as a study in contradictions. I'm spending the morning learning how to shield myself from some wounded woman bent on revenge who unmans me with fear and exhausts with worry.
It's a psychological castration and yet I find myself irresistibly drawn to this Gorgon. She's the antithesis of Quinn―her hair a writhing nest of snakes but she still turns me to stone with her beauty.
It's absurd, I tell myself―a night terror in the middle of the day―merely a bad dream, not a descent to the Underworld, or glimpse into the Abyss and yet I sense a much deeper meaning.
But I'm not permitted to peek behind the curtain?
Why is the language of the unconscious so arcane―so inscrutable and convoluted as a labyrinth?
I'm shaking again, huddling on the carpet close to the fire trying to get warm. Maybe I need help―a therapist who will help me unravel the tangled skeins of thought that have tied me down in the cave of my psyche.
I'm drained and haggard trying to make sense of shadowy forms that oppress me.
And then suddenly the dark network inside of me lights up with a memory that could possibly explain what's happening.
It was second year of university before I met Quinn. I was dating Clare Rodgers, a girl from my social circle I thought I might marry but ended up cheating on her with an attractive Spanish girl named Sofia Lopez that I met at a party.
I figured it was one night but the girl found out about Clare and threatened to expose me if I didn't stay with her until the end of semester. It was sexual blackmail pure and simple but she claimed if I broke up with her she'd be too distraught to study for her exams and end up failing her courses.
It was only a month, so I made the deal with the devil, sneaking out nights to stay with her in her dorm room. At the end of the month, she was reluctant to end the affair but finally relented.
She tried from time to time to contact me but I always avoided her attempts. Could she be the Medusa in my dream and the stalker who was tormenting me?
I decided to tell Matt and let him investigate her as a possible suspect.
"Phew!" Matt whistled softly as I finished telling him about Sofia. "Well, you certainly haven't come back from hell with empty hands."
I coloured with embarrassment. "C'mon, Matt―that was then, this is now."
"I get it―you changed, but you should have told me this before. But since I'm quoting Malraux to you I should remind you of another bit of his wisdom: Man is not what he thinks he is, but what he hides.”
I stared at him bleakly. "I guess that was one lesson I didn't learn. I've been estranged from Quinn all this time because of my stupid pride―I just couldn't admit I made a mistake and now my past is coming back to bite me."
He claps me on the shoulder. "Cheer up, Chum―I'm just teasing you. I've heard a lot worse in my line of work and as you say, this is in your past and even if you told Quinn, which I don't suggest you do, she'd still understand."
"I wish I were as positive as you."
"We'll get whoever is trying to terrorize you now―you can count on it."
I knew there was a deeper dimension to the threat Matt didn’t perceive—there always is when someone is able to invade your dreams and elude sophisticated security systems.
But a Medusa? Even that far-fetched notion didn't seem quite as unreasonable when I soberly considered my intrusive stalker.