The rain tasted of iron.

I tasted it on my lips.

It was the taste of the old blood.

The old blood that seeped from the walls of St. Jude’s.

We were in the basement.

Or perhaps the cellar.

The names blurred.

The stone was wet.

The stone was cold.

My hands were cold.

I looked at the door.

The door was barred.

The bar was iron.

The iron was rusted.

I knocked.

No one came.

I knocked again.

The sound was hollow.

The sound was dead.

I turned back.

I turned to the corner.

There was a shape there.

A shape in the dark.

It was not a person.

It was a shadow.

Or so I thought.

I stepped closer.

The air grew thick.

The air grew heavy.

It smelled of rot.

It smelled of lilies.

Lilies that had died.

I reached out.

My fingers brushed the edge.

It was soft.

It was warm.

I pulled back.

I pulled back fast.

My heart hammered.

My heart beat loud.

I could hear it in my ears.

I could hear it in the walls.

I needed air.

I needed light.

But the light was gone.

The light had died.

I sat down.

I sat on the floor.

The floor was slick.

The floor was muddy.

I closed my eyes.

I remembered the road.

I remembered the journey.

I had walked for days.

I had walked for miles.

My feet were blistered.

My feet were sore.

I had walked to find the truth.

I had walked to find the end.

But the end was here.

The end was in the dark.

I opened my eyes.

The shape was gone.

The shape was gone.

I was alone.

I was truly alone.

I spoke to the dark.

I spoke to the stone.

I spoke to the rain.

“Who are you?” I asked.

The rain answered.

The rain whispered.

The rain hissed.

The rain laughed.

I did not hear words.

I heard only the drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Drip.

Like a clock.

Like a heart.

Like a life.

I waited.

I waited for hours.

I waited for days.

Time lost its meaning.

Time lost its shape.

Time was a river.

A dark and cold river.

I floated in it.

I drifted in it.

I let go.

I let go of my name.

I let go of my face.

I let go of my past.

I let go of the man I was.

I became the water.

I became the stone.

I became the dark.

I was no longer the detective.

I was no longer the seeker.

I was the thing sought.

I was the shadow.

I was the fear.

I was the lie.

I was the truth.

And the truth was this.

The institution did not keep secrets.

The institution *was* the secret.

We were the secret.

All of us.

The men in the black coats.

The men in the white collars.

The men who smiled.

The men who signed the papers.

We were the disease.

We were the cancer.

We were the rot.

And I was the immune system.

I was the fever.

I was the pain.

I was the cure.

But the cure was death.

I understood then.

I understood the code.

The code was not in the books.

The code was in the bone.

The code was in the blood.

The code was in the breath.

I looked at my hands.

My hands were white.

My hands were pale.

My hands were translucent.

I could see the veins.

I could see the blue lines.

I could see the life flowing.

I could see the life fading.

I did not care.

I did not fear.

I did not hope.

I was empty.

I was full.

I was nothing.

I was everything.

A sound came.

A soft sound.

A gentle sound.

It was a voice.

It was a woman’s voice.

It was my mother’s voice.

“Thomas,” she said.

“Thomas, my love.”

My name.

My name was Thomas.

I had forgotten my name.

I had forgotten my face.

But I remembered her voice.

I remembered her hands.

I remembered her touch.

It was the only touch that mattered.

It was the only touch that was real.

Everything else was a mask.

Everything else was a game.

She was the anchor.

She was the stone.

She was the light.

“Come to me,” she said.

“I am here.”

“I am always here.”

I wanted to go.

I wanted to run.

I wanted to fly.

But my legs would not move.

My body was stone.

My body was root.

I was planted.

I was rooted.

I was fixed.

I was bound.

I was chained.

By love.

By memory.

By ghost.

By truth.

I looked at the wall.

The wall was cracking.

The crack was growing.

The crack was spreading.

It was like a vein.

It was like a river.

It was like a tear.

The stone was weeping.

The stone was bleeding.

The stone was dying.

And I was with it.

I was part of it.

I was the heart of it.

I was the soul of it.

I was the end of it.

The door opened.

The door opened slowly.

The door opened with a groan.

The light came in.

The light was white.

The light was cold.

The light was blinding.

I squinted.

I blinked.

I saw them.

They stood in the doorway.

They wore black coats.

They wore white faces.

They held guns.

They held power.

They held death.

Their leader stepped forward.

He was tall.

He was thin.

He was pale.

He looked like a ghost.

He looked like me.

He looked like the future.

He smiled.

The smile was small.

The smile was cruel.

The smile was kind.

“Thomas,” he said.

His voice was soft.

His voice was smooth.

His voice was silk.

His voice was steel.

“You have found the truth,” he said.

“I have,” I said.

My voice was quiet.

My voice was calm.

My voice was dead.

“And what is the truth?” he asked.

I looked at him.

I looked into his eyes.

His eyes were empty.

His eyes were deep.

His eyes were old.

They were the eyes of the institution.

They were the eyes of the system.

They were the eyes of the world.

I saw myself in them.

I saw my shadow.

I saw my face.

I saw my sin.

I saw my grace.

I saw my love.

I saw my hate.

I saw my life.

I saw my death.

“The truth,” I said, “is that we are one.”

He laughed.

The laugh was low.

The laugh was dark.

The laugh was sad.

“Yes,” he said.

“Yes, we are one.”

“But one is a chain.”

He raised his hand.

The others moved.

They moved like shadows.

They moved like ghosts.

They moved like death.

They surrounded me.

They closed in.

They cut off the light.

They cut off the air.

They cut off the hope.

I did not fight.

I did not run.

I did not scream.

I stood still.

I stood firm.

I stood true.

I was the rock.

I was the stone.

I was the end.

The leader stepped closer.

He stood before me.

He was so close.

I could smell his breath.

I could see his pores.

I could see the life in him.

I could see the death in him.

He was not a monster.

He was a man.

He was a victim.

He was a slave.

He was a tool.

He was a piece.

We were all pieces.

We were all parts.

We were all one.

He reached out.

He touched my face.

His hand was cold.

His hand was wet.

His hand was soft.

It was the touch of a lover.

It was the touch of a killer.

It was the touch of a god.

“Rest now,” he said.

“Rest now, Thomas.”

“Rest now, brother.”

I closed my eyes.

I felt the cold.

I felt the dark.

I felt the end.

I felt the love.

I felt the fire.

I felt the life.

I felt the death.

I let go.

I let go of the fear.

I let go of the pain.

I let go of the past.

I let go of the self.

I let go of the world.

I became the light.

I became the dark.

I became the nothing.

I became the everything.

The gun fired.

The sound was loud.

The sound was sharp.

The sound was final.

The sound was silence.

The light went out.

The dark came in.

The rain stopped.

The rain was gone.

The world was gone.

I was gone.

But I was here.

I was always here.

I was in the stone.

I was in the rain.

I was in the blood.

I was in the breath.

I was in the memory.

I was in the dream.

I was in the truth.

And the truth is this.

The line between good and evil is a blur.

The line between life and death is a line.

The line between love and hate is a thread.

The thread is broken.

The thread is torn.

The thread is gone.

But the shadow remains.

The shadow is eternal.

The shadow is infinite.

The shadow is me.

The shadow is you.

The shadow is us.

The shadow is the world.

The shadow is the promise.

The distant promise.

The promise that we are one.

The promise that we are free.

The promise that we are dead.

The promise that we are alive.

I am the promise.

I am the shadow.

I am the light.

I am the dark.

I am the end.

I am the beginning.

I am the truth.

I am the lie.

I am the life.

I am the death.

I am the love.

I am the hate.

I am the man.

I am the ghost.

I am the stone.

I am the rain.

I am the blood.

I am the breath.

I am the silence.

I am the sound.

I am the nothing.

I am the everything.

I am here.

I am gone.

I am always here.