"The Virtue of Evil" - May 15, 2025
It isn't as simple as two sides of a coin...
Every Thursday, Silver Gecko Publishing highlights one of my stories, either a work of short fiction, a novel, or an audiobook. This week’s selection is the short story “The Virtue of Evil,” from the anthology 13 MORE TURNS, available on Kindle, on audiobook, and in paperback.
I don’t want to say too much about this story before you read it because the real discussion this evokes is a very spoilery one. However, it’s worth noting some things I said in my Notes at the end of 13 MORE TURNS, where this is collected. Here’s an excerpt of those notes…
Those familiar with The Twilight Zone will likely see similarities between this story and the classic episode “The Howling Man.” That is not a coincidence.
“The Howling Man” is one of my favorite Twilight Zone episodes, written by my favorite writer of the series, Charles Beaumont. His life was a tragic one, and he died before his 40th birthday after a long illness that never was properly diagnosed. He left behind some fantastic writing from his short career, and I would have loved to have seen what he could have become had he not left our realm so soon.
As perfect as “The Howling Man” is for a Twilight Zone episode, it got me thinking...
And that was the genesis of my own story. I admit that I borrowed from Beaumont’s original story quite liberally. You might go as far to suggest this story is the literally equivalent of “Ice Ice Baby” compared to the “Under Pressure” perfection that was “The Howling Man.” I will not deny I used more than just the bass line.
Still, this story could start a very interesting conversation… and as things charge more and more in this crazy, mixed-up world yet manage to stay the same, this could be quite relevant now.
Because “The Virtue of Evil” is a slim 1500 words, I present it here uncut. Enjoy another week of a complete story from my archives.
-Kevin Carr
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Illustration by RohmBernhard (@RohmBernhard) from Pixabay
The Virtue of Evil by Kevin Carr
David clutched the shotgun tightly to his chest as he watched the intruder slowly creep through the dark corridor. It had been weeks since the last break-out attempt, and David knew someone had been planning something.
He knew what the intruder was after, of course, and he knew how he must deal with it. David had been visited many times before, and he was always prepared. One of the many advantages of keeping his captive so far away from civilization was the ease with which he could see the enemies coming.
Although David knew the intruder’s intentions, he did not fire the shotgun. David wanted the intruder to make the first move. He always waited for them to make the first move. He wanted the intruder to have every chance to live. David feared that his captive might have seduced an ignorant innocent simply to coax David into a senseless act of brutality. And if David took that bait, he would be no better than the thing he kept in that cell.
David refused to let such a thing happen. They had to make the first move. Violence on his behalf must be for protection and defense, not pre-emptive aggression.
David kept up behind the intruder, ducking into the shadows of the dungeon. Webs lived in the corners, and rats commanded the floor. A stench grew ever stronger as David followed the intruder closer and closer to his captive’s cell. It always smelled bad down here.
David knew the captive could not escape its cell in any of its many forms. That had been part of the plan to contain it. Down here, its powers were useless.
Soon, the intruder emerged into an open chamber with lichen-covered stone walls. A large wooden door sat embedded in the opposite end of the room. Mysteriously, the lichens refused to grow within several inches of the door’s frame.
David knew that the energies within the cell had already begun to leak out. But the cell, David assured himself, would hold. Those were the rules set down by the beings that had helped him contain the thing in the first place. In return for such a cell, David had forfeited any help to keep the captive – and any intruders bent on releasing the thing – at bay. The walls of David’s fortress could block an army. But a single intruder could find a way in. Once inside, David could only rely on earthly weapons, such as the shotgun he carried. So far, he had never failed at his post.
A howl escaped into the dungeon, echoing throughout the chamber. David bunched himself around a damp corner as the intruder approached the door. The intruder peered inside the cell, where he saw a small girl huddled in the corner. The frail waif wore dank rags that matched the color of her unwashed, dingy hair. She cowered, timid and tiny... but she never fooled David. He hoped that she did not fool the intruder either.
“Help me,” the girl said in a feeble voice to the intruder. “Unlatch the gate and let me out. There’s this evil man who’s keeping me here.”
“I will release you,” the intruder said. “But it pains me to do so. I hate you, but I must help you.”
The tiny girl’s face then spread into a fiendish smile. Rich crimson glowed beneath the pupils of her eyes. She spoke with a deep, gravelly whisper: “Whatever it takes.”
The intruder reached forward and began to slide the bolt that secured the door.
David stepped from the shadows and raised his shotgun to aim between the intruder’s shoulder blades.
“Hold it, friend,” David said, cocking the shotgun, a sound that was amplified and echoed through the dungeon.
The intruder turned, and an angry hiss erupted from within the cell.
“Step away from the door now,” David said, taking several steps towards the intruder. Although the cell could hold any amount of preternatural power thrown at its inside walls, David knew that it would be useless if the latch were opened and the door allowed to swing freely.
“David,” the intruder said, his hand still resting lightly on the bolt. “You don’t realize what has happened. You don’t understand what I am about to do.”
“I do indeed,” David sneered. “After years of searching and fighting, I finally found the source of evil. Call it the Devil or call it a demon, but I found it. With a little help, I was able to contain the damned thing. And I’m not about to let you release it.”
“But there is a problem,” the intruder pleaded. “We made a mistake. You don’t understand.”
“Yes I do understand,” David said. He ignored the intruder’s overly-friendly approach. Was it possible this was one of the beings that had helped him capture it? Perhaps. But it was equally likely this was a traitor. “The world has been freed from evil,” David continued. “Now, goodness can prevail. Now, you had better step away from that door, buddy, or you’ll be missing a few body parts.”
The intruder lowered his head and softly rolled it back and forth.
“That’s not how this works,” he said and tightened his grip on the bolt. “We are not like two sides of a coin.”
David refused to listen to any more lies. He fired the shotgun, spreading a nebula of buckshot across the intruder’s body. But the blast was too late. The intruder’s finger had crooked around the bolt, and the jolt of the shotgun blast pulled the latch open, releasing the door.
As the bloody body of the intruder fell to the stone floor, the heavy oak door erupted into a shower of splinters. Mist billowed from the cell accompanied by a sinister sub-bass laugh.
“Thank you, dear cousin,” a deep voice rumbled.
Suddenly, an immense form burst from the cell and into the foyer. Scarlet muscles rippled over the humanoid beast, and thick, ebony claws scraped across the hard stone floor. Membranous wings whipped around in front of David’s face as the beast righted itself on its hind cloven hooves.
It crawled forward to the fallen intruder and leaned close to the still face. While humanoid in appearance, the eyes glowed a bright scarlet, and the grin – lipless and lined with razors – consumed half its face. A silver forked tongue lashed out through Its words.
“Thank you,” the thing seethed. “Thank you for going against your nature, Haurvatat. You cannot begin to understand the full impact of your actions.”
The creature lifted itself into the air with its great wings. Letting out a billowing shriek, the beast arched its back and melted. Its form flowed into an ebony liquid that splashed across the floor, seeping into the cracks in the stone below. Like countless eldritch worms, tendrils of the black, viscous fluid slithered through the stone, seeking freedom.
“Yes, I do understand,” came a soft voice from the intruder. “I understand perfectly.”
David turned towards the intruder, eyes burning with tears. And his breath stopped in his throat.
David expected to find the man bleeding and near death on the floor, but he jumped in surprise when he saw the intruder standing on his own accord.
“What are you?” David asked, lowering the shotgun, clearly a worthless instrument against the being before him.
The intruder casually brushed debris off his shoulder. He looked at David remorsefully, then said with a small grin, “That was a bit on the nose for him. But he’s always been one for the dramatics.”
The intruder’s grin disappeared, and a look of deep compassion washed over his face.
“I weep with you at the release of your captive,” the intruder said. “But he must be allowed to roam.”
David gaped at the being who stood before him, attempting to justify the release of such evil.
“Forgive me,” the being said. “He had to be released.”
“But why? What can justify any of this?”
“At first,” the intruder said, “we helped you contain him. The years we spent in constant battle seemed to finally reach an end. But, this is not how it should end. Good and evil are not opposite sides of the same coin. The absence of evil is not good. The absence of evil is apathy.”
David stared, dumbfounded. “But... evil was gone...” was all he could say.
“Yes, it was,” the being said. “But look to the world around you. The world is full of apathy. And apathetic souls cannot make it to paradise.”
“So what are you saying?” David asked. “That we need atrocities? We need villains? We need evil?”
“It’s twisted and doesn’t seem to make sense, but yes. Evil fuels good. With no evil to fight against, the battle for good is lost because it is never fought. Some evil is necessary to feed the flame of righteousness.
“You have condemned so many people today,” David said, dejected.
The intruder fell silent. Then he shrugged.
“This is how things work. It’s not fair, but nothing ever is,” the being finally said. Then, like a still at the end of a motion picture, David saw the liberator of evil dissolve into nothingness.
THE END