It was an experiment in which sociologists everywhere could take pride, though the actual intention had been to gather information. I should have known better.
I asked around about the bizarre disappearances, the recent rash of particularly brutal murders that have cropped up. Many people claimed they hadn’t heard. Of those who have heard, a majority are convinced these people are somehow responsible for their own destruction. They are convinced these people weren’t careful enough. That they went off with the wrong person.
A person.
What they cannot see is that they too would have no will to resist if these “people†beckoned them. It’s the same reason that every person stopped with a whiplash-inducing abruptness when I approached and started asking questions. It’s the intrigue, the allure. They don’t understand it, but they feel it. And they will feel it again, if the others come for them, and they will be drawn away, and they will die for it.
But they can’t see that truth.
They don’t want to.