Charles Brighton is neither a monster, nor is he a magician.
 


In the morning on the fifth day of the week, in the coldest month of the year, a little boy named Charles Brighton was born. He had dark brown hair and green eyes.

   At the age of five Charles began to pursue the interest for magic.
Charles family was not the wealthiest in their town, but since Charles was the only child the family had enough money to stay alive and give Charles things to develop his interest.
He began to learn how to make small red balls disappear.
At the age of 14 he knew how to make a person seem invisible, Charles often used the things he had learned to scare people.
It mostly worked perfectly, and Charles continued to learn more about magic.
Soon he began to perform at a theater nearby his home village and Charles and his family suddenly had a lot of money.
Charles performed at the theater for years and within a short period of time the Brighton’s became the richest family in town.
When Charles finally was old enough to get a job, he started to travel around the country performing with his so called powers, instead of an ordinary job.



       He began his daily walk a little bit too late so he had to walk faster to be in time for the tea at 1:00pm.
The Governor was already in place when Charles arrived at the theater, so he started his act quickly and everyone was as surprised as always about his show.
Charles was tired of everyone who wanted to find out how he was doing it all.
So one night he realized that he was able to kill a man without getting caught, all he had to do was to transport the knife in to a mans heart and he would die without Charles ever having touched the weapon.
He decided to try his theory the next day and he lay down in his bed to sleep.
When the morning came Mr. Brighton got dressed and took his daily walk, and thereafter searched up the man who had disturbed him the most.
Charles had no problem with killing a man, he had actually been dreaming about it since he was 6 years old.
He used to be daydreaming about how he slowly would cut the throat, so the blood would fill a whole bathtub, but he knew now that that much blood was too much for a human body,
Although he had always had a desire to kill,

Charles greeted the man who he always had hated and let the knife from the mans pocket float up in the air and slowly pierce the mans chest.
In just a minute the dark blood had made the man’s white shirt red.
The victim that was called Chris on daily basis, was in chock so he did not make any noise.
Everything went much easier than Charles had expected, and in just a period of 10 minutes the man was gone and Charles was on his way to the theater.
The act today was better than ever and after the big show the governor invited Charles Brighton to join him for a cup of tea and maybe some biscuits that the governor’s wife just had made.
Mr. Brighton accepted the offer and followed the governor to his house.

During the tea the governor asked Mr. Brighton about his secret, Charles just laughed and said that if he told him he would have to kill him.
This was actually true, so Charles didn’t lie, but the governor did not know that.
Mr. Graham smiled and nodded, in spite of that, Charles knew he would ask later that evening.
Mrs. Graham arrived with the biscuits and Charles did find them to be extraordinary delicious.
When the time was right, Charles started the long walk home.
On the way to the bridge he met a man, a man he never had seen before.
Mr. Brighton greeted the man, he replied with a smile.
“Ah, so you are the famous man of magic everyone is talking about”  he said and Charles stopped.
Charles was surprised over the fact that a man that wasn’t a fan of his talked to him.
“It might be so yes, and who are you?” The man simply smiled and nodded.
“I’m Morris Butler and I’m the man that knows every move you make.”
Mr. Butler took off his hat and bowed
It can’t be true, it can’t be. I’m alone so often, how in earth can he watch every move i make.
He thought
“No, that is not true. No human is capable to watch every move I make.” He didn’t sound
as secure as he had planned.
“And how Mr. Brighton can you be so sure of that. What if I’m your worst enemy.”
It couldn’t be true, no it can’t.
“How I know? Mr. Butler, everything is very simple. To start with, you do not have any clue where I live. And second, if you do know every move I make you would know what I did yesterday at 1.25 pm, do you know that Morris?”
The man shook his head.
“If Mr. Brighton does take everything seriously he is no fun socializing with. I’m sorry sir, but I did just make a joke, I thought you knew that.” He replied
“No Mr. Butler, I did not know that,”
The man showed a hint of a smile.
“My deepest apologies Mr. Brighton.”

“Now worries, now if you excuse me, I must go home.”
Mr. Butler nodded and smiled.
“Oh, By the way, Christopher White sends his greetings.” Morris said just before he left Charles standing alone on the bridge
Mr. Brighton show indulgence with the situation and did not bother to comment.
He started again to walk home and this time no man stopped him.
   When the time had passed midnight, Charles thoughts wandered back to Mr. Morris Butler.
 ‘I’m the man that knows every move you make’ Could it be that Butler did know every move he made?
And did he know that Charles had killed Christopher, But how could that be?
No one was near him at the time of the murder, or was there?
Charles remembered that when he killed Chris he did see a shadow.
But no, that shadow turned out to be a cat, so no one could have been there.
Although how could Morris Butler say that Christopher sent his greetings to Charles. 
White was dead and everyone knew that, so how could he send greetings to Charles.
Mr. Brighton shook the thought off; maybe Mr. Butler told a joke as he said he did.

The next morning Mr. Brighton woke early and this day he didn’t eat any breakfast.
Instead he went directly to the theater and started to work on a new performance.
He planned to do a show which created the illusion of dead people rising from the dead.
The training was harder then he had thought, the time flew by and as the hours passed Charles found the work harder than he had expected.
Charles was flummoxed over the fact that the work was so hard..
Although he was determined to manage the work.

In the evening Charles abandoned the idea of completing the task.
Instead he decided to walk to the local café and order some bagels.
When he arrived he sat down at his favorite table and in I period of minutes the man from yesterday sat down next to him.
“How is the work going for you Mr. Brighton?” Morris asked him.
Charles was stunned over that the man asked him that, Charles had simply told no one about the idea.
“It depends on what work you mean, Mr. Butler.”
Morris Butler smiled an almost non existent smile.
“The work that you currently are working on.”
Charles Brighton shook his head and denied Morris statement.
Morris nodded and replied Charles sentence whit a smile.
“Well Charles, if you want it that way, then I’ll find no other way then to prove my ability’s”
“Mr. Butler how in earth have you planned to do that?”
“You will se, tomorrow. Bye, Charles Butler, we will meet again.”
Charles found the situation to be strange.
He couldn’t understand how this Morris could know about Charles new work.
He hadn’t told anyone about the job so how could the man know about it.

At the evening that day Charles had been at the theater almost the whole day, and he hadn’t made any progress.
He packed his things and started the long walk home.
Mr. Brighton passed the big clock that the town newly had build.
He continued to walk, and in a period of thirty minutes Charles were at his house.
Charles unlocked the door and sat down on a chair in the kitchen.
The house were only a rental, but the furniture were his own.