need me anymore. You don’t even need to let the police know, just let X know, just Alice, whoever, just end this. End this for me, Mark. For Sylvia, for Lou, for everyone. Blood dripped from my mouth as I spoke, my head pounded and my body screamed for rest but I stood tall, looking him in the eye. I was sure there was a part of him that still felt some guilt, some responsibility for what had happened, and it was so simple. We could get Alice Stevens here, we could even get X here, we could all sit round the table and work it out. They could all disappear to Neverland and I could walk out a free man. Even Lou would forgive me, when she understood what I had been through, and we could walk together and sit by Sylvia’s grave and mourn her passing. I looked at Mark and then at his guards; they were wavering, their hands unsteady. Surely they must be wondering what was going on, and whether they were pointing their guns at the right person. I caught the eye of the guard on the left as he looked uncertainly at me, before glancing at Mark. Maybe, I thought for a fleeting second, maybe that was a time to run, but I was too tired, I had come too far.
Ah, Mark sighed, if only. Just commit a crime, and disappear into another universe, without having to face the consequences of your actions. I’m sure you wish you could do that, Sylvain. But here, I am afraid, we have to pay, we have to be held to account, whatever than means. I’m sure you must understand, somewhere in the depths of your mind, you do understand that we have to have standards of law and morality, and that you are no exception. You’re a clever man, Sylvain, you can surely see that? Now, why don’t you put the piece of glass down, and we’ll talk it through, what do you say?
What I said was this. The lights flickered and the room darkened. Cracks appeared on the walls and spread, joining and accelerating, letting the darkness in. The guards swung round, pointing their guns at unseen enemies, moving towards the centre of the room in instinctive self-defence, pulling Mark with them. There was a roar coming from somewhere, from the cracks, from the walls, from inside my head, but it was loud and strong and pushed me forward. The cracks grew deeper as plaster and then bricks started to fall from the walls and the ceiling, showering the guards, but missing both me and Mark. I walked purposefully closer to him, as he stared at me in disbelief, unable to comprehend what was happening. But I knew. I knew. He had done this to me, he and Alice and X and Mark Smith and Carl and all their conceits and plans and lies in pursuit of their dark and destructive plans. I stood tall and firm, despite my injuries, despite all the crap they had injected into me to try and control me, I stood there and watched, as the guards fell to the ground, crushed under the weight of the falling debris, and Mark found himself cornered, trapped by his own hands, unable to tear his eyes from me and from what I had become.
I took a step towards him as the light turned from white to black and then to red; he tried to back away but he had nowhere to go. He watched, transfixed as I walked with my arms outstretched, and then they were by my side – on my left the girl with deathly pale skin, bowed face and long blond hair, on my right, the magnificent creature with a white mane, fire in its eyes and death in its sights, and we walked together hand in hand with fear, misery and death. You had your chance, I whispered as we stood face to face, inches apart, as I looked at last into his confused and frightened eyes, but my voice came out like a shout from the heavens, like a beating drum, and I put my hand on the creature’s mane, and it strode forward and pierced Mark’s chest with its horn. He could only moan as his life started to leave him, he could only look at me with pleading eyes as he knew that it was too late, that despite everything, despite his power and his lies, he had lost and I had won, and despite myself, I held his fading gaze and I smiled as he fell and crumpled, as the creature pulled back, lowered and then raised its head and looked at me with its blazing eyes, as the girl put her arm around me squeezed me tight, then taking the unicorn and leading it away. I sank to my knees and, despite myself pulled Mark into my lap, cradled his lifeless body, and touched his forehead with my finger.
I forgive you, I whispered, seeing the carnage that I had brought, three more people who paid with their lives for the pursuit of truth, for that was what it was after all, nothing more, but at least that meant that I was able to forgive him and to mean it. As my passion broke so did the lights, so did the destruction and the aberrations, so did the sense and the smell of the dead, and all that remained was me, alone, in an empty room filled with white light.
The Bridge
And now I speak to you. Now everything else has faded, and it’s just you and me, alone, here, whatever that means. And I wonder who you are and why you are here. I wonder whether she really did defeat him or whether it was just a trick of the mind, or whether it’s actually you, there, behind that curtain.
They came to get me, eventually, from the room. They put me in a cell somewhere, because they didn’t know what else to do with me. I had found Mark and I had proved I was right, I had defeated him and doubtless sent them into disarray, like headless chickens, lost without their leader. They made up all sorts of lies, which were so outrageous and stupid that they had clearly thought of them in panic, because I had disrupted their plans so much. They denied evidence that I had seen with my own eyes, that I had felt and touched and lived. They denied that Mark had ever been there, they even denied the existence of the metal room, even of Beryl and the inhuman treatment that she had been subjected to. They told me that Mark was dead (of course! I killed him!), that Sylvia, Anna, Angel were dead – as if I didn’t know that. They told me that I was having psychotic episodes because of the drugs I took, as if I had ever taken anything except that one time and except for the crap that they put in me for their stupid, crass experiments. They even brought Lou to see me, and she begged me to confess, to allow her to mourn, and I told her I was so sorry, I couldn’t imagine what they had threatened her with to make her have to say such lies. I told her it didn’t matter, that I forgave her, that these people would stop at nothing; credit to her, as she left, she didn’t once drop her façade, but left me with a last look of desperation and hatred that was so real it could only have been a lie. They even sent X to see me, I asked him why he had turned into a traitor, and he looked at me sadly, with none of his usual ferocity. I’m sorry, Sylvain, he had said. Maybe we put you under too much pressure. Maybe you weren’t emotionally stable enough. Maybe it’s my fault. And then, eventually, I think, they gave up on me, and put me in here, to talk to you. I don’t know who you are, or exactly why I am here, or how long I will have to stay. I know that I took Mark’s life – or at least I was a willing witness – and in some small way I feel that at least justice has been done – but I still have this dread that somehow he escaped – perhaps to G, that land he was so desperate to rule, and whose very existence they seem to want to deny now. And after all of it, this is all that is left for me – to tell you my story, the one story, the true account of events, and to hope that you will recognise the truth and you will follow it. If nothing else, at least please find Lou, and explain it to her. Find Beryl’s family and tell them that she died a hero. Do that for me, at least. Because I know it’s you. I don’t understand how, but I have seen enough to know that doesn’t make any difference. And now you’ve listened to my confession, have courage, be a man, and close the door on your final dark victory.
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The End
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