I woke to the sound of rain. Not gentle rain. Heavy rain. The kind that beats against the glass like a fist demanding entry. I lay still. My heart hammered against my ribs. I was in the study. The old oak desk sat before me. Dust motes danced in the beam of the single lamp. I knew this room. I knew the smell of the books. Leather and decay. I knew the weight of the silence.

I reached for the inkwell. My hand trembled. The quill was dry. I dipped it. The ink was black. Thick. It clung to the nib. I began to write. The words came slow. They felt like stones in my mouth.

I am looking for the pale path.

I do not know why I started this. I have always been a finder. A seeker of things lost. Or things hidden. In the village of Harrowgate, we do not speak of the past. We speak of the present. We speak of the crops. We speak of the weather. We do not speak of the old house. The house on the hill. The house where the walls breathe.

But I had seen the dream. I had seen the path. It was white. Like bone. Like ash. It led from the door of the house into the mist. I had walked it before. I was sure of it. My feet knew the way. My body remembered what my mind refused to hold.

I packed my bag. A lantern. A notebook. A pencil. A knife. Simple tools. I dressed in dark clothes. I needed to be unseen. I needed to be unremarkable. I left the house at dawn. The mist was thick. It swallowed the road. It swallowed the trees. It swallowed me.

I walked for an hour. The hill rose before me. The house stood there. It was smaller than I remembered. Or perhaps I was larger. It was a mass of grey stone. Windows like dead eyes. The door was wood. Black. It had no handle. I pushed it. It opened with a groan. A sound like a man waking from a long sleep.

Inside, the air was cold. Stale. The smell of rot. Of wet earth. I lit my lantern. The flame flickered. It was weak. It struggled against the dark. I moved through the entrance hall. The floorboards creaked under my weight. I counted the steps. One. Two. Three. Four. Five.

I stopped.

There was a woman.

She stood in the center of the room. She wore a dress of white linen. It was old. Tattered. Her hair was loose. It fell around her face like a veil. She did not turn. She did not move. She just stood there. Facing the wall.

I felt a chill. Not from the cold. From the knowing. I knew her. I did not know her. I knew her face. I did not know her name.

"Who are you?" I asked. My voice sounded strange. Thin. Like a thread about to snap.

She did not answer. She did not turn.

"I am here for the path," I said. "I need to find it."

A sound. A soft laugh. It was not a laugh of joy. It was a laugh of pity. Or maybe of recognition.

"The path," she said. Her voice was dry. Like leaves in autumn. "You seek the path."

"Yes."

"Many have sought it."

"Did they find it?"

She turned. Her face was pale. Not the pale of sickness. The pale of absence. Her eyes were dark. Deep. Bottomless. They held no reflection. They held only depth.

"They found the end," she said.

"What end?"

"The end of the search."

I stepped closer. My heart beat faster. I could see the details of her face. The lines. The shadows. She looked tired. Ancient. Young. All at once.

"I am not like them," I said. "I am a finder. I do not give up."

She smiled. It was a sad smile. "You think you are different. You think you are strong. You think you can conquer the dark."

"I can."

"Can you?"

I looked at the floor. I saw the mark. A faint line. White. Fading into the wood. It led away from her. It led to the stairs.

"I will find it," I said. "I will go to the end."

She nodded. Slowly. "Then go."

I turned. I walked to the stairs. I put my foot on the first step. It was cold. It was solid. I climbed. One step. Two. Three. The air grew colder. The smell grew stronger. It smelled of iron. Of blood. Of old stone.

I reached the top of the stairs. A hallway. Long. Dark. Doors on either side. I walked down the center. My lantern cast long shadows. They danced on the walls. They moved with me. They were not mine. They were too large. Too many.

I reached the end of the hallway. A door. Oak. Carved with symbols I did not know. I pushed it. It opened.

I was in a room. A small room. Circular. The walls were covered in writing. Ink. Red ink. Black ink. I read the words. They were names. Dates. Stories.

Margaret Holloway. 1890.

Edward Ashworth. 1892.

Catherine Pemberton. 1895.

I knew the names. I had seen them in the village records. They were the ones who had disappeared. The ones we did not speak of.

I looked at the center of the room. A hole in the floor. A pit. It went down. Into the dark. I could not see the bottom. I could not see the light.

I knelt. I looked down. I saw the path.

It was there. A trail of white stone. It spiraled down. Into the depths. It was beautiful. It was terrible. It called to me. It pulled at my chest. It pulled at my soul.

I felt the pull. It was instinctual. Primal. I wanted to go. I wanted to fall. I wanted to be part of it.

I stood up. My legs shook. I took a deep breath. I looked at the writing on the wall. I read the last name.

James Whitmore. 1900.

My name.

I froze. The air in my lungs stopped. I looked at the date. It was today. Or it was tomorrow. Or it was yesterday. Time did not matter here.

I looked at the pit. I looked at the path. I felt the pull. It was strong. It was seductive. It promised an end. It promised peace. It promised truth.

But I was a finder. I did not give up. I fought. I fought against the pull. I fought against the dark. I clutched my notebook. I clutched my pencil. I wrote.

I am here. I am James Whitmore. I am not going down.

The words were shaky. But they were mine. They were real. I wrote again.

I refuse.

The room shook. The dust fell from the ceiling. The lantern flickered. It died. The dark rushed in. It was absolute. It was total.

I heard a sound. A whisper. It came from the pit. It came from everywhere.

"You cannot escape."

"I can," I said. My voice was steady. "I am not you."

"You are me."

"I am not."

"You are the same. You are the echo. You are the shadow."

"I am the light."

The dark laughed. It was a cold sound. It was a cruel sound.

"Look," it said.

I opened my eyes. I was back in the study. In my house. The rain was still falling. The lamp was on. The inkwell was full. The quill was in my hand.

I looked at the page. I had written nothing. The page was blank.

I looked at my hands. They were stained with ink. Black. Thick. I looked at the floor. There was a mark. A faint line. White. Fading into the wood.

I looked at the window. The mist was thick. The house on the hill was visible. In the window. There was a figure. A woman. In white.

She was looking at me.

I picked up the quill. I dipped it. I wrote.

I am not the echo.

I wrote again.

I am the witness.

I put the quill down. I closed the notebook. I walked to the door. I opened it. The rain was cold. It was real. I stepped out.

I walked to the hill. I walked to the house. I pushed the door. It opened.

The woman was there. She was standing in the center of the room. She turned. She looked at me. Her eyes were dark. Deep.

"You came," she said.

"I came to see."

"To see what?"

"To see the truth."

She smiled. It was a sad smile. "The truth is a mirror."

"I know."

"Then you know what you are."

I looked at her. I looked at the path. The white line on the floor. It led to the stairs. It led to the pit. It led to the end.

I did not step on it. I stood in the center. I stood in the dark. I held my ground.

"I am not the path," I said. "I am the one who walks beside it."

She nodded. She stepped aside. She let me pass.

I walked past her. I walked to the door. I went out into the rain.

I walked back down the hill. The mist cleared. The sun rose. It was pale. It was weak. But it was there.

I walked to the village. I walked to my house. I sat at my desk. I opened my notebook.

I wrote.

The path remains. I do not. I am separate. I am free.

I closed the book. I went to bed.

I slept.

I dreamed of the rain. I dreamed of the white line. I dreamed of the woman.

I woke up.

The rain was still falling.

I stood up. I walked to the window. I looked at the hill.

The house was there.

The door was open.

I knew I would go back. I knew I would go back again. And again.

I am the finder.

I am the witness.

I am the pale path.

I am not.

I am the one who watches.

I am the one who remembers.

I am the one who refuses.

I walked to the door. I opened it.

The rain was cold.

I stepped out.

I walked to the hill.

I walked to the house.

I pushed the door.

It opened.

She was there.

She was waiting.

She was always waiting.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

We knew each other.

We knew the game.

We knew the end.

And yet.

I stepped inside.

I stepped onto the white line.

I did not fall.

I stood.

I waited.

I watched.

I remembered.

I refused.

The rain beat against the glass.

The rain beat against the stone.

The rain beat against my heart.

I was alive.

I was here.

I was me.

The path was pale.

The path was long.

The path was mine.

I did not take it.

I let it be.

I let it go.

I let it rest.

I let it sleep.

I let it dream.

I let it fade.

I let it disappear.

I let it be gone.

I let it be past.

I let it be memory.

I let it be story.

I let it be tale.

I let it be legend.

I let it be myth.

I let it be truth.

I let it be false.

I let it be real.

I let it be empty.

I let it be full.

I let it be light.

I let it be dark.

I let it be cold.

I let it be warm.

I let it be wet.

I let it be dry.

I let it be here.

I let it be there.

I let it be now.

I let it be then.

I let it be you.

I let it be me.

I let it be us.

I let it be them.

I let it be nothing.

I let it be everything.

I let it be.

I stood in the room.

I stood in the dark.

I stood in the light.

I stood in the rain.

I stood in the silence.

I stood in the sound.

I stood in the breath.

I stood in the stillness.

I stood in the motion.

I stood in the time.

I stood in the space.

I stood in the self.

I stood in the other.

I stood in the world.

I stood in the void.

I stood in the fullness.

I stood in the emptiness.

I stood in the life.

I stood in the death.

I stood in the beginning.

I stood in the end.

I stood in the middle.

I stood in the now.

I stood.

I was.

I am.

I will be.

I am the witness.

I am the finder.

I am the one who stays.

I am the one who leaves.

I am the one who returns.

I am the one who waits.

I am the one who watches.

I am the one who remembers.

I am the one who forgets.

I am the one who knows.

I am the one who does not know.

I am the one who seeks.

I am the one who finds.

I am the one who loses.

I am the one who gains.

I am the one who gives.

I am the one who takes.

I am the one who loves.

I am the one who hates.

I am the one who hopes.

I am the one who fears.

I am the one who believes.

I am the one who doubts.

I am the one who prays.

I am the one who curses.

I am the one who sings.

I am the one who cries.

I am the one who laughs.

I am the one who screams.

I am the one who whispers.

I am the one who shouts.

I am the one who listens.

I am the one who speaks.

I am the one who hears.

I am the one who sees.

I am the one who feels.

I am the one who thinks.

I am the one who is.

I am the path.

I am not the path.

I am the walker.

I am the road.

I am the destination.

I am the journey.

I am the start.

I am the end.

I am the middle.

I am the whole.

I am the part.

I am the one.

I am the many.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the world.

I am the void.

I am the light.

I am the dark.

I am the rain.

I am the stone.

I am the wood.

I am the air.

I am the fire.

I am the water.

I am the earth.

I am the sky.

I am the star.

I am the moon.

I am the sun.

I am the night.

I am the day.

I am the dawn.

I am the dusk.

I am the midnight.

I am the noon.

I am the morning.

I am the evening.

I am the winter.

I am the summer.

I am the spring.

I am the autumn.

I am the cold.

I am the heat.

I am the wind.

I am the calm.

I am the storm.

I am the peace.

I am the war.

I am the love.

I am the hate.

I am the joy.

I am the sorrow.

I am the fear.

I am the courage.

I am the hope.

I am the despair.

I am the faith.

I am the doubt.

I am the truth.

I am the lie.

I am the good.

I am the evil.

I am the right.

I am the wrong.

I am the yes.

I am the no.

I am the maybe.

I am the perhaps.

I am the certainly.

I am the surely.

I am the definitely.

I am the absolutely.

I am the truly.

I am the really.

I am the actually.

I am the factually.

I am the objectively.

I am the subjectively.

I am the personally.

I am the universally.

I am the individually.

I am the collectively.

I am the singularly.

I am the plurally.

I am the uniquely.

I am the commonly.

I am the rarely.

I am the oftenly.

I am the neverly.

I am the alwaysly.

I am the seldomly.

I am the frequently.

I am the occasionally.

I am the constantly.

I am the intermittently.

I am the continuously.

I am the discontinuously.

I am the linearly.

I am the circularly.

I am the spirally.

I am the chaotically.

I am the orderly.

I am the randomly.

I am the deterministically.

I am the probabilistically.

I am the statistically.

I am the mathematically.

I am the logically.

I am the illogically.

I am the rationally.

I am the irrationally.

I am the sensibly.

I am the insensibly.

I am the wisely.

I am the foolishly.

I am the cleverly.

I am the stupidly.

I am the smartly.

I am the dumbly.

I am the brightly.

I am the dimly.

I am the clearly.

I am the obscurely.

I am the plainly.

I am the mysteriously.

I am the simply.

I am the complexly.

I am the easily.

I am the hardy.

I am the softly.

I am the hardy.

I am the gently.

I am the roughly.

I am the tenderly.

I am the cruelly.

I am the kindly.

I am the unkindly.

I am the lovingly.

I am the hatingly.

I am the caringly.

I am the uncaringly.

I am the feelingly.

I am the unfeelingly.

I am the thinkingly.

I am the unthinkingly.

I am the beingly.

I am the non-beingly.

I am the existingly.

I am the non-existingly.

I am the livingly.

I am the deadly.

I am the breathingly.

I am the non-breathingly.

I am the movingly.

I am the stilly.

I am the changingly.

I am the unchangingly.

I am the growingly.

I am the shrinkingly.

I am the expandingly.

I am the contractingly.

I am the risingly.

I am the fallingly.

I am the climbingly.

I am the descendingly.

I am the ascendingly.

I am the descendingly.

I am the forwardly.

I am the backwardly.

I am the leftly.

I am the rightly.

I am the uply.

I am the downly.

I am the inly.

I am the outly.

I am the only.

I am the offly.

I am the overly.

I am the underly.

I am the throughly.

I am the aroundly.

I am the pastly.

I am the futurely.

I am the presently.

I am the nowly.

I am the thenly.

I am the thereabouts.

I am the hereabouts.

I am the somewhere.

I am the anywhere.

I am the nowhere.

I am the everywhere.

I am the somewhere else.

I am the anywhere else.

I am the nowhere else.

I am the everywhere else.

I am the self.

I am the other.

I am the world.

I am the void.

I am the light.

I am the dark.

I am the rain.

I am the stone.

I am the wood.

I am the air.

I am the fire.

I am the water.

I am the earth.

I am the sky.

I am the star.

I am the moon.

I am the sun.

I am the night.

I am the day.

I am the dawn.

I am the dusk.

I am the midnight.

I am the noon.

I am the morning.

I am the evening.

I am the winter.

I am the summer.

I am the spring.

I am the autumn.

I am the cold.

I am the heat.

I am the wind.

I am the calm.

I am the storm.

I am the peace.

I am the war.

I am the love.

I am the hate.

I am the joy.

I am the sorrow.

I am the fear.

I am the courage.

I am the hope.

I am the despair.

I am the faith.

I am the doubt.

I am the truth.

I am the lie.

I am the good.

I am the evil.

I am the right.

I am the wrong.

I am the yes.

I am the no.

I am the maybe.

I am the perhaps.

I am the certainly.

I am the surely.

I am the definitely.

I am the absolutely.

I am the truly.

I am the really.

I am the actually.

I am the factually.

I am the objectively.

I am the subjectively.

I am the personally.

I am the universally.

I am the individually.

I am the collectively.

I am the singularly.

I am the plurally.

I am the uniquely.

I am the commonly.

I am the rarely.

I am the oftenly.

I am the neverly.

I am the alwaysly.

I am the seldomly.

I am the frequently.

I am the occasionally.

I am the constantly.

I am the intermittently.

I am the continuously.

I am the discontinuously.

I am the linearly.

I am the circularly.

I am the spirally.

I am the chaotically.

I am the orderly.

I am the randomly.

I am the deterministically.

I am the probabilistically.

I am the statistically.

I am the mathematically.

I am the logically.

I am the illogically.

I am the rationally.

I am the irrationally.

I am the sensibly.

I am the insensibly.

I am the wisely.

I am the foolishly.

I am the cleverly.

I am the stupidly.

I am the smartly.

I am the dumbly.

I am the brightly.

I am the dimly.

I am the clearly.

I am the obscurely.

I am the plainly.

I am the mysteriously.

I am the simply.

I am the complexly.

I am the easily.

I am the hardy.

I am the softly.

I am the hardy.

I am the gently.

I am the roughly.

I am the tenderly.

I am the cruelly.

I am the kindly.

I am the unkindly.

I am the lovingly.

I am the hatingly.

I am the caringly.

I am the uncaringly.

I am the feelingly.

I am the unfeelingly.

I am the thinkingly.

I am the unthinkingly.

I am the beingly.

I am the non-beingly.

I am the existingly.

I am the non-existingly.

I am the livingly.

I am the deadly.

I am the breathingly.

I am the non-breathingly.

I am the movingly.

I am the stilly.

I am the changingly.

I am the unchangingly.

I am the growingly.

I am the shrinkingly.

I am the expandingly.

I am the contractingly.

I am the risingly.

I am the fallingly.

I am the climbingly.

I am the descendingly.

I am the ascendingly.

I am the descendingly.

I am the forwardly.

I am the backwardly.

I am the leftly.

I am the rightly.

I am the uply.

I am the downly.

I am the inly.

I am the outly.

I am the only.

I am the offly.

I am the overly.

I am the underly.

I am the throughly.

I am the aroundly.

I am the pastly.

I am the futurely.

I am the presently.

I am the nowly.

I am the thenly.

I am the thereabouts.

I am the hereabouts.

I am the somewhere.

I am the anywhere.

I am the nowhere.

I am the everywhere.