Interview: The Metaphysical Framework Behind "Black Eyes & Broken Souls"

In this exclusive interview, we dive deep into the intricate metaphysical framework underpinning the "Black Eyes & Broken Souls" series. The author shares insights on crafting a supernatural horror world from an agnostic perspective, their unique approach to demons and angels, and the literary influences that shaped this distinctive universe.

Interviewer: Your metaphysical framework in "Black Eyes & Broken Souls" presents a fascinating alternative to traditional religious horror. What was your primary goal in creating this system?

I was trying to capture the aspects of horror without falling into the vagueries of magic like you might see in something like Harry Potter. Creating a compelling fantasy framework is particularly challenging when you approach it from an agnostic or atheist perspective.

Interviewer: That's an interesting starting point. How did you address that challenge?

Rather than relying on traditional religious concepts of good and evil, I wanted to create a system where both demons and angels have the potential for good and evil based on their individual personalities rather than because of their origin. This immediately creates more complex characters and moral situations.

Interviewer: That's quite different from how supernatural entities are typically portrayed. Does this change how morality functions in your world?

Absolutely. One of the core principles in this universe is that only the act itself can be good or evil, not the actor. This creates a moral framework based entirely on consequences and choices rather than inherent nature or identity.

It completely deconstructs the traditional concept of inherently "evil" demons or inherently "good" angels. Each entity—whether human, demon, or angel—is judged purely by their actions and the effects those actions have.

Interviewer: You've also made some interesting choices regarding emotions in your supernatural beings. Could you elaborate on that?

In my framework, humans are the only beings with true emotions, which creates interesting dynamics for morality. Demons and angels operate from pure rational consciousness without the emotional dimension that humans experience.

This means they might make decisions based on pattern recognition, strategic advantage, or principle, but without the emotional component that drives human moral intuition. They might perform actions humans would consider horrific without malice—they're simply pursuing goals according to their nature, without emotional restraints like empathy or compassion.

Interviewer: That makes Marchosias's partnership with Mick particularly significant, doesn't it?

Exactly. Marchosias experiencing human emotions through his partnership with Mick represents something unprecedented—a demon developing emotional attachments rather than just strategic interests. His growing protective feelings toward Eliza show an evolution beyond what should be possible within his nature.

It's a way to make humans unique and important in a universe filled with more powerful entities. We might not have the raw power or lifespan of these other beings, but we possess something they don't: the emotional capacity that gives meaning and moral weight to existence.

Interviewer: I'm curious about your literary influences. What works helped shape your approach to this supernatural world?

Several works influenced me. Hellblazer/Constantine is definitely a reference point—particularly in how it treats supernatural elements as operating according to consistent rules rather than arbitrary magic, and the way it positions Hell as a complex political landscape rather than a simplistic realm of punishment.

Other significant influences include Neil Gaiman's work on Lucifer, 30 Days of Night, and the Criminal Macabre series (Cal McDonald Mysteries) by Steve Niles. These all approached supernatural horror with a grounded sensibility that I wanted to capture.

Interviewer: Hellblazer seems particularly relevant to your approach. What elements from that world resonated with you?

Constantine's relationships with demons—which often involve negotiation, manipulation, and occasionally something approaching mutual respect rather than just antagonism—feels spiritually connected to how my character Marchosias operates, though the balanced partnership with Mick takes this concept much further.

The concept of "thin places" where realms bleed together is also a central element in Hellblazer, though I developed this into a more comprehensive metaphysical framework with the correspondence web and detailed realm transition mechanics.

Both works also share that noir-influenced sensibility where the protagonist operates in a morally gray area, navigating between the human world and supernatural forces with a combination of hard-earned knowledge, cunning, and willingness to make difficult choices.

Interviewer: Your metaphysical system feels very structured and almost scientific. Was that a deliberate choice?

Definitely. I wanted to develop a metaphysical system that functions more like an extension of physics rather than arbitrary magic. The concept of realms existing at different "frequencies" rather than as separate magical dimensions gives it a quasi-scientific foundation that doesn't require belief in the supernatural as we traditionally understand it.

This approach creates a framework for horror that doesn't require the reader to suspend their materialist worldview entirely. Essence functions as a form of energy-consciousness, the correspondence web explains spatial relationships between realms, and shadow travel operates within defined limitations.

Interviewer: One challenge in written horror is creating effective scares. Comic books and films have visual tools that novels lack. How do you approach this?

That's something I'm still working to perfect—creating that "jump scare" you get from movies and comics, where the next frame, panel, or page gives you that instant shock. In comics like 30 Days of Night, you can literally turn the page to reveal something terrifying, while prose flows continuously.

I'm experimenting with techniques like manipulating pacing—building tension with longer passages, then suddenly shifting to short, punchy sentences when the horror reveals itself. Using paragraph breaks strategically can function similarly to the gutter between comic panels. Sensory misdirection is also effective—focusing the reader's attention on one detail, then abruptly introducing the threat from somewhere else.

Interviewer: Your approach to angels is particularly interesting—they're potentially more dangerous than demons in some ways. Could you explain that concept?

In my framework, celestial entities aren't malevolent, but their fundamental nature—their drive to impose perfect order—could be catastrophic when encountering the necessary chaos of the Material Realm. What Celestial perspective perceives as disorder in our world actually represents necessary complexity—evolution requires deviation from pattern, free will necessitates the possibility of imperfection.

When a Celestial being enters the Material Realm, its fundamental nature compels it to impose order—attempting to reshape reality according to "correct" patterns, eliminating elements that disrupt perceived harmony. Unlike demons who typically seek experience or resources, Celestial entities automatically attempt to "correct" what they perceive as broken—potentially destroying the very foundations of Material existence in the process.

This creates a more interesting dynamic than the traditional "demons bad, angels good" framework.

Interviewer: That creates a fascinating balance in your cosmology. Where do you see this series heading in terms of exploring these metaphysical concepts?

The partnership between Mick and Marchosias represents a genuinely open-ended evolutionary experiment—potentially indicating new possibilities for consciousness development across all realms. I'm interested in exploring what happens when beings transcend their original categories and develop into something unprecedented.

I also want to further explore the consequences of the Blackthorn Initiative's industrial-scale exploitation of thin places, which risks permanent damage to the fundamental structure of reality itself. The tension between scientific exploitation and natural metaphysical balance creates rich territory for both horror and philosophical exploration.

At its core, this series is about questioning categorical limitations and exploring what happens when boundaries—between realms, between species, between good and evil—start to break down.

Interviewer: Thank you for sharing these insights into your fascinating world. Any final thoughts for readers new to "Black Eyes & Broken Souls"?

I'd encourage readers to approach this world with openness to a different kind of supernatural framework—one that asks questions rather than providing absolute answers. The horror emerges not from simplistic evil but from the realization that powerful entities are operating according to their own complex agendas in a universe that might be indifferent to human suffering.

But it's also a world where choice matters more than nature, where evolution beyond original limitations is possible, and where the uniquely human capacity for emotion might ultimately prove more significant than any supernatural power.

"Black Eyes & Broken Souls" and its sequel "Blood Tithe" explore a richly detailed metaphysical universe where realms overlap at different frequencies of existence, demons and angels defy traditional moral categories, and the boundaries between human and supernatural continue to blur in unexpected ways.