Fog Island: A terrifying thriller set in a modern-day cult

The next evening, she went to the classroom with low expectations. Olof was already wound up, rubbing his hands and beaming at her with that smile that almost distorted his narrow face. She looked around, wondering if everyone else in the room had also found the first thesis peculiar. They looked so unconcerned, as if staring at a piece of paper was the most natural thing in the world. Ellen Vingås was there too, laughing so loudly that her advisor shushed her. The only decoration on the white walls was a poster with the English phrase Simplicity is power.

Sofia wondered why it wasn’t in Swedish, but maybe the Swedish didn’t sound as nice.

‘Thesis number two!’ Olof said. ‘Are you ready?’

She nodded and sat down in front of him.

Thesis #2. You are your past.

What you are right now is a culmination of everything you’ve ever thought or done, and everything that has been done to you. You are the sum of your subjective and objective experiences. Thus you can change yourself through the thousands of choices you face each day. All the power you will ever find already exists within you, in your past.

Exercise: Your advisor will teach you to draw strength and energy from your memories.

‘We’ll be doing this exercise in my office,’ Olof said. ‘So we can work undisturbed.’

He closed the blinds halfway when they entered his small office, making everything look pale and grey. She sank into the puffy visitor’s chair while he fished a small piece of paper from the desk drawer.

‘Now close your eyes. I’m going to give you a few simple commands, and you should tell me what you’re seeing and thinking.’

The commands were brief, but he dragged out the words in a deep voice that was almost a whisper.

Remember a time when you felt strong.

Remember a time when you felt triumphant.

Remember a time when life was easy.

Recall your first achievement.

There seemed to be endless variations on the question, and he always had the next command on the tip of his tongue. She had a hard time recalling at first, but then incidents began to pop up. Hidden memories. Lovely images.

‘What do I do if a bad memory pops up?’ she asked, because she had been reminded of a bike accident when she had broken her arm.

‘Did you feel strong that time? Superior?’

‘Not exactly.’

‘Then we’ll ignore it. Just find another memory.’

They went on like that for a few hours, until Olof’s voice began to fade out and she felt warm inside, a little fuzzy — almost giggly. She sank into a warm darkness where she was alone with her images, and Olof’s voice was way off in the distance.

Then came an image that was extra clear and colourful. A pair of tiny feet tottering across a lawn, viewed from above. At first she pushed the image aside, because it seemed so unbelievable. But it returned, and she could feel the dew under her feet and her inner joy at the ability to walk. It’s strange that my feet have gotten so big, she thought with a shudder, because all at once she knew the memory was real.

‘I had no idea,’ she heard herself say, but her voice came from far beyond her body.

‘I’m sorry?’ Olof said.

She forced herself to open her eyes, and there he was, looking at her curiously.

‘You said something.’

‘I was thinking out loud, about how I had no idea I could remember so far back. I remembered taking my first steps. It seems incredible, but I know it was real.’

‘And . . .?’ he leaned forward, eager, encouraging her to go on.

‘And I was thinking that the past really is the key to existence.’

Bingo! Olof slapped his hand against the desk.

‘That’s it! That’s it! The exercise is over. We’ll do thesis number three tomorrow.’

*

She was a little nervous as she entered the classroom on the third evening. She wasn’t quite sure why; she only knew that it had to do with losing control, losing herself in the exercises.

‘How many theses are there?’ she asked Olof as soon as they sat down.

‘Five, but you’ll do one through four first and then spend some time practising your new abilities.’

‘Have you read the fifth thesis?’

‘No, no one has yet. Franz is going to release it as soon as five hundred guests have completed the first four. He says the fifth is so powerful that it will take a team, sort of. But right now, for you, let’s focus on number three.’

Thesis #3: One person’s dusk is another’s dawn.

Your true self can only exist free of constant fear of causing offence, wounding, or hurting others. The desire for approval is a scourge on humanity.

Exercise: The process for Thesis 3 is done in the classroom with an advisor who uses this repeated command: ‘Remember a time when you could have helped someone by hurting them.’

She shivered as she finished reading. ‘That sounds brutal.’

‘That’s the point. Your desire for approval is protesting now, not your true self. Now let’s do the exercise.’

But she couldn’t come up with an answer. She squirmed in her chair, distracted by everything that was going on in the classroom as her irritation at the idiotic exercise grew.

‘I can’t think of an answer to your question,’ she stated at last.

‘Then that’s what we’ll say.’

‘What? What do you mean?’

‘Franz says thesis number three isn’t for everyone. There are those who are dominant and those who are submissive. This thesis doesn’t work for the submissive ones.’

‘I’m not submissive, damn it! What are you talking about?’

‘Sofia, it’s not a bad thing. The whole universe is built on dominance and submissiveness. It’s just as natural as how the seagulls in the bay eat herring. Take the rest of the night off and we’ll get started on the fourth thesis tomorrow.’

She was stewing as she left the classroom — that scrawny jerk didn’t know a damn thing about her. Submissive? The very idea was idiotic, ridiculous, and, above all, one hundred percent wrong. And comparing her to a fucking herring! She walked around the yard for a while, then sat by the pond and watched the swans while yanking at the grass.