In a foggy bathroom, a black haired man is trying to take a relaxing shower. The hot water flows over his tense body with a touch of heroic scars... And if he didn't came out of a harrowing nightmare, he would have some wounds too. More recent, more traumatic. Eyes closed, he holds the back of the neck which feels unpleasantly as hard as wood. He waits a little bit and finally changes his mind. Nodding his head, he turns off the water, thinking that it's just useless. With a hesitant hand, he gropes around to find a white towel. He's not careful to dry his body completely and just wrap it around his hips. He stretches his arms, impatient of plunging into his chair. The question is whether he will be able to unwind. When Sebastian glances at the mirror all steamed up, he sees a vague shape of something he thinks to be someone else beside him. But he doesn't pay that much attention. After all, he's really tired. He drags himself along the disorderly living room. Lonely in the dark, only a softened light given off by a lamp in a corner of the room reveals his clothes scattered and his unmade bed. He puts a black shirt and a grey jean on him. With each passing day, the walls of the apartment are decorated with clippings of press articles.
"Unresolved mass murder at Beacon Mental Hospital"
"Mysterious machine discovered at the Hospital : Patients under bad treatment ?"
"The police refuse to confirm the presumed disappearance of one unit..."
"...however, some sources says it seems that one detective has survived an attack"
"The consecutive disappearances have ceased from that day... "
"...the culprit might hides within police ranks..."
Sebastian is surprised that he isn't under constant surveillance already. As if it wasn't enough to bear their suspicious look since Myra disappeared... He couldn't prove a thing. Like all his injuries, his partners vanished and the other witnesses died. And even if they didn't, how possibly could this help to explain this pure madness ? Add to the fact that there was one person that needed to be strike off the list of partners. That Kidman... It is preferable that he doesn't manage to get his hands on her. She will own him more than extremely convincing explanations to wipe out the bitter taste of treason. There is no sign of her since. Neither of Joseph... His body wasn't lying in the bathtub like Connely or doctor Jimenez. Having more than one reason to be defeatist, he yet prefers to feed the thin line of hope which just goes to show that he might be still alive, somewhere. Now here he is, alive, but still trapped. Forced to keep silent, again, to not be considered insane and paranoid.
It's been almost one month since then. When he saw Leslie or... Ruvik, for the last time. The survivor ran and ran that night. "Detective ! What's wrong ?! Where are you going ?!" the voices of the police officers resonated in the distance. But he didn't hear any of that. All he could think at the moment was : "No... No ! It can't be !" These words kept repeating in his heard in an endless, infernal echo. He strode along the streets of Krimson city without even knowing if he was running right after an illusion. After his experience inside the STEM, he wasn't sure of anything now. He had so little chances to find him but, as if something wanted to avoid it happening, the elements turned against him. Over the next seconds, his eyes were dim, and all he could feel was a driving rain. He stood there, without even noticing that he stopped at the middle on the road. Cars with their blinding lights and the sounds of klaxons made him quickly come back down to earth. He wanted to spend all the time it would have taken to find him, to the point of total exhaustion. He has come so far back then that he would continue. He was so troubled that he forgot how pleasurable it was to see and feel the real world. But once again... Was it real ? Fallen and soaked to the skin, he had no choice but go back home, still stunned by this disturbing uncertainty. He pressed his fingers against his temple as a reflex from the previous headache, this noise he barely learned to put up with, through this long way down.
Of course, his co-workers knocked his door the morning after. Sebastian followed without balking -not visibly at least- thinking that trouble would start up again unabated. He first had a medical examination where he observed that each person that he catched the eye seemed to stare him in a way that confirmed his fears. They grilled him for interminable hours in the interrogation room and he could only give the most rational answer to all this : he was knocked out from behind by someone and woke up in the bathtub, that's all. But the doctor said there were no signs of physical violence. Sebastian wasn't ready to show his despondent look just so they leave him alone. Howether, it should be recognized that he was in an awkward position. The investigation has stalled for so long that they considered him as a potential suspect, as nonsensical as it might seem. And unfortunately that was enough to extend his detention for 24 hours. Sebastian had not the strength to rebel. Behind bars, he felt more in a mental asylum than a police station. He cracked his knucles thinking of each second wasted. His nicotine and alcool addiction was felt and he was afraid to become out of control. But he tried to reframe things positively, there wasn't any tangible prooves to decide to suspend him from duty. He had just to summon his patience, wich wasn't his strong point, it had to be said. When his coworkers brought him back to interrogation room, he nervously tapped his foot under the table pending the sentence, eager to leave once and for all. They kept asking why he ran away that night, without any explanations. Sebastian wanted to answer that it was because they were just a bunch of incompetents whose only mastery was to eat donuts all day long. Tired of repeating the same things like a parrot, he answered by another question instead.
"Do you imply that I'll change my version of the facts ?"
They finally capitulated. But no way they were going to let him off that easily. Allowing him to continue to perform his duties, law enforcement saw an advantage there : either he was guilty, and he was constrained to be less free of his movements and easier to catch, either he was innocent and his investigator talents will pay off. They used this situation to... "recommand" an Exit clause. They would to let him out on one condition. He had to see a psychologist provided by them. Collapsed under the fatigue, Sebastian had straightened suddenly, his eyes open wide. They said that it was for his own good, that he needed it because he had stand too much hard blows and that story will make matters even worse... My ass. This idea repelled him at the highest point, as if he wanted to talk to a fucking stranger and submit to his small exercises, admitting that he had to start over. There were a thousand times more urgent to adjust immediately. He pertinently knew that what he experienced had nothing to do with delusions of a depressed man and even less from someone with a second personality of an unhinged criminal without being aware of it. But his hands were tied. And it's not his gold badge that would allow him to be in a position of strength. If it has to be the clause to obtain his free will again, so be it. He would have to find answers by himself. Nevermind. He's used this way.
Since that day, things have been pretty normal. Too normal.
Sebastian chuckles over it because that was all he hoped when a routine mission has been turned upside down by the horrific world he was dragged into. But how could he be relieved? Virtually nothing had been resolved. The question of why these multiples homicides were commitied has raised thousand of others. And he wonders if that dead silence isn't more worrying than all the creatures he had to fight back then after all. It leaves him with a very unpleasant sensation that could set his teeth on edge even more easily than ever. A case highly dubious had built around him. He had resolved many in the past, but this one is beyond belief. He didn't think it was possible, but he couldn't see the world the same way once more, the first being when he was suddenly deprived of his family.
He heads for the only tidy and highlighted place. The chest of drawers garnished of the most beautiful photos of his wife and daughter. He graps a frame in his hand, a picture taken at the park. He instinctively stroked their cheeks with his thumb. It was an ordinary day but oh so precious. One of rare times when they could find themselves again and enjoy their time together, undisturbed by any responsibility. The girl was very young but already modelled on her parents : adventurous, no letting others walk all over her. A smile brighten up the face of the morose man, recalling that she enjoyed chasing him. It was only when she had exhausted all her energy that she lengthened, her upper body resting on the legs of her mother, and her lower boddy on the legs of his father. It is as such moments that Sebastian felt proud and reassured himself to be a good father, thing that really scarred him above all. Over the years, he thought he had learned that these sweet memories warm his grieving heart. But as soon as the excruciating awareness to remember that he had failed while he had sworn to protect her, with all his heart and the best he could, resurfaced... He swore to see its memories crumbling, in the form of uncountable ember passing before his eyes. Exactly like the ones that was escaping from the flames, devouring the house right under his helpless gaze and a napalm sky. That memory was nothing more than a constant heartbreak, but above all, a punishment that forbade him to move on. Mechanically, he would have opened a bottle. He'd become too used to wanting to get rid of this dishonourable thought and the images of that tiny coffin by drinking. The widower carefully replaces the frame in its usual place. Idly, he walks towards where his seat is, near the coffee table in front of the bay windows. He slumps, noting the amount of cigarettes crushed in the ash-tray and a few empty bottles of whiskey on the ground. Leaning his arm, he rests his head in the palm of the right hand, the index finger scratching the corner of his eyebrow. He takes a look outside, staring at the lightened apartments under a rain almost as strong as that night. He feels his eyelids grow heavy, leading him to hope that he will be able to sleep in one go for once. But it was without counting the sinister and monotone voice that perks up his ears.
- "Your apartment looks as terrible as you."
His far sight becomes blurred to focus on the window's reflection. His face tenses up and he bits his lips almost hard enough to draw blood. His eyes crinkle and fill up with animosity. It's him.
It's really him.
A man in rags lurking in the half dark of the room. His frail body devastated by the flames, standing very straight. A cold man, impenetrable, with only the glare in his eyes to convey all unimaginable emotions. However... Sebastian isn't that surprised to see Ruvik in his true appareance. He had a feeling that his image will continue to haunt him, to taunt him.
- "It's always more welcoming than your sordid places," Sebastian spontaneously retorts in a suppressed anger without difficulties. With the exception of having to stand his presence.
- "Ah. Of course, if you see it that way." Ruvik answers with a sly smile on his face, almost as if he were already entertained by the greetings of his best enemy.
Sebastian doesn't take the trouble to glance back. He's already a bundle of nerves. He monitors all his moves through the window's reflection. Ruvik stays silent while he's cautiously exploring the home. He pauses when he perceives the family photos. Sebastian's hair stands on end, ready to pounce if Ruvik dares to make any sound, any remarks, or even show the smallest facial expression whatsoever. But the imposed visitor did nothing of that. Annoyed by the curiosity of the latter, Sebastian takes the floor again :
- "Go bother someone else to reclaim right to asylum."
- "My actual situation is certainly not as comfortable as it was in my mansion, but I have my resources. Thank you for your concern," Ruben says with irony, he doesn't care that the climate is not very favorable for conversation. And just like his interlocutor, he doesn't turn around to spare a glance at him.
Yeah, like I would. Don't make me laugh you little piece of shit, I have chapped lips.
Sebastian can't help but utter a sigh. No matter how long he's going to stay, it's going to be such a pain in the ass. He rubs his eyes as if that simple gesture is enough to make him disappear. But it is the opposite effect that occurs since Ruvik decides to venture towards him.
- "Running out of test subjects I guess since your flunky isn't here anymore to bring you some," Sebastian adds.
So... you really want to play this little game Seb ?
Ruben realizes that there is a folder under the ashtray and bends down for a closer look. He cleans up the small ash deposit on the photo attached with a paper clip. He discovers the face of Lucia Villanueva, the psychologist who came to consult Sebastian at his home.
- "A little too young for you, don't you think Seb ? I am not an expert on the subject but perhaps it would be best to remove this ring if you want to try something."
Now go ahead. Kick the ball back.
Sebastian ignores this response. The detective doesn't intend to give him that pleasure. At least, not so soon. It will probably be useless to hit his nerve. This is undoubtedly a man prepared for every eventuality, especially those where he would expect to be hurt. He simply afflicts him with a dark look and keeps bringing up his past errors silently . Especially one. As unlikely as it may sound, he's even more mad with another person than Ruvik. Himself. He suspects the confession that Ruben will use to set a fire. On seeing it in this condition, Ruvik continues :
- "You attack, I defend myself, detective."
- "Since when the bastards feel the need to justify themselves ?"
A low chuckle comes out of the scientist's mouth. Sebastian glimpses only a wide smile under his hood as he has never seen from him.
- "Oh, I'm reassured. We shall be able to discuss now that you have rediscovered your elevated language," he scoffes.
- "Discuss ? What happened to your desperate attempts to murder me ?"
- "I maybe won't even have to try anymore if you continue like this," he says, pointing at the heap of cigarettes, piled up one above the other.
Sebastian sniggers at his turn.
- "It's funny, you're not the first one to tell me this. I will respond to you what I said to the others : I still have some time to give you a headache," he guarantees, naturally relaxed without having even cogitated voluntarily to this irony.
Suddenly, the brightness of the scientist's eyes seems to intensify.
- "Do you really think that I wanted to kill you ?"
It was before I discovered your potential. There was no reason to hinder your obstinacy anymore.
And here we go. Sebastian, disillusioned inside, invites him to loosen his tongue with a quick gesture of the hand.
- "Lay your cards on the table, I know you're dying for it," he says, trying to hide his spite.
- "And I know you haven't yet been able to swallow it."
Should he say it or elude it to maintain the irritation of his opponent ?... No, he can't resist. He exults. Spending all these years, each day and night, to create his life work that could restore everything... To see it recklessly extracted from him by these vultures who so cowardly eradicated him, and even turn every situation to his advantage... For one time, Ruben doesn't want to contain himself. He would like to shout it from the rooftops. That nothing can stop him.
- "This," he admits summarily.
An old unfriendly sound perforates Sebastian's eardrums as he strives to not twist his body by the suffering. It only lasted a few seconds. When he snaps out of it, Sebastian stares at him in a low angle view.
- "You're the reason I'm free," he mocks, suavely.
Sebastian sits straighter on his seat.
- "Look who's enjoying himself. For now," And he reciprocates, with a smile overflowing of will to crush his so called supremacy.
The infernal world of Ruvik didn't manage to take the detective down so it's not those little wisecracks that risked to impress him. Ruvik approaches the chair in front of Sebastian in order to get comfortable.
- "I... think you don't mind," he catches the clothes lying around in the backrest by pinching the tip of his index finger and his thumb, and throws them on the floor as if they were disgusting.
Ruben isn't sit down yet that Sebastian grasps an empty bottle of alcohol and throws it aggressively on his undesirable guest. The bottle passes through Ruvik, ricochets off the chair back and shatters on the floor. Ruben stands still under the vivacious and spontaneous gesture, eyes fixed in Sebastian's one.
- "Actually, yes, I do," Sebastian doesn't raise his voice but his tone is acid.
Amused, the sophisticated man smiles and closes his eyes. He does just as he wants, crossing his long, well defined legs.
- "Hmpf. Your methods are always charming as I see," delighted that his sour-tempered foe just can't dominate his impulsive side.
Sebastian is boiling with rage. He would have loved to reward his impertinence with a right good uppercut.
- "Once again, you're one to talk." he mumbles with a wheezy voice like he was to spray his venom.
Sebastian checks again Ruvik's reflection on the windows. He can still see him.
- "That's confusing, isn't it ? It is your fault if I'm here, detective. Stop being so irascible and assume it."
The blinding and sudden light of a flash of lightning blazes the faces of both rivals.
- " What do you mean ?" he asks angerly under his breath.
- "We... still share a connection. A part of me... resides in each one of you who were linked to the STEM. And whether you like it or not, you have me in your mind. You think a lot of me," Ruvik accentuates with a slight smile but nonetheless mocking.
Not that he necessarily likes being the center of attention. Preferably, he would even stay invisible to others. But as long as he occupied the minds of his subjects, this meant that he retained control. That is the way it should stay.
- "Easy there. I don't let my head cut in half the first night."
Sebastian leans his elbows on his knee. Water pearls flow along his hair and run aground his clasped hands whose veins are swollen.
- "It won't be really her, you know." His voice fades out.
He cannot believe of what he has just said. He didn't intend to sound that compassionate, at least it was too much for his taste. He didn't even want to pronounce these words, ever. Why does this have to comes out of his mouth ? Going backwards is not an option. Beyond that, and it is maybe completely overrated, he feels he has always known him forever. No use to try to convince him. So why, just why bring it up? Protecting people against crimes was always a vocation. People always have the choice. Sebastian is already filled with deception, he can't accept this moment of weakness. But since Ruvik is here to talk... Then, let's talk.
The aristocrat raises an inexistant eyebrow in the face of such unexpected remark. Behind his instinctive distrust hides a certain curiosity. Even though Sebastian certainly has a deeper understanding of what he could feel, he was the last person he expected to make such comments. His face becomes serious again.
- "Sebastian. You talked - and still are talking - to a dead man."
Am I that different from what I used to be in my lifetime ? You can't even tell. You didn't know me bak then.
Sebastian doesn't react for a moment. The answer was so limpid and yet surprising. It was one thing to remember that those monsters couldn't even possibly be real, and another to remember that he should have never encountered Ruvik. Under his apathetic appearances, he seems so alive. Sebastian wonders why. Undoubtedly because he's animated with such determination, such indestructible mind to try to make a difference.
- "Just why did you show me all of this ?" he enquires in a neutral way.
- "To let you know the real side of the story. You were already willing to help that smooth talker of Jimenez," he rolls his eyes at him. "And..."
He looks up and down the dark-haired man.
- "Maybe to give you some new places to look at. You know... What detectives are supposed to find. Clues."
Sebastian who got lost in his thoughts with a vacant look, looks up surreptitiously.
- "But you have been so obsessed with me that I have to reveal you this at the end... What a shame," he says with drawl.
- "Stop being enigmatic for one fucking second. Who are they ?"
Sebastian dares to ask, even though he clearly knows in advance that Ruvik will never answer him frankly. Of course that it wasn't all about him. But before he could have scratched the surface, everything collapsed around him and he woke up alone. The silence is deafening. Ruvik's eyes playfully wander from one corner to the other on Sebastian, a sly grin on his face. He has his famous methodical look. Sebastian looks straight in the inscrutable eyes of Ruben while he's wondering if he doesn't want to answer or if he searches for a turn of phrase.
- "Oh, they harbour many secrets," he's eventually adding another layer as to dangle hope in front of him. "And the reason you're still breathing is not luck."
- "I know. They tried to put the blame on me."
Ruvik shrugs his shoulders.
- "They may have thought of that, but knowing him, I'm afraid they have greater ambitions."
They... And then, him... Ruvik wants to insinuate that someone pulls the strings after all.
- "Who?" Sebastian repeats more strongly, attempting one last chance to clear the air.
Taking advantage of its status as an improvised director, Ruvik leaves some doubt a few moments, keeping egoistically all the intrigues of story. As he relates the events in his head, Sebastian observes him moving strangely from one emotion to another. Again, he seems consumed by rage, internal, but extremely dangerous.
- "The corridors of power," he distinctly formulates in a hollow voice.
Sebastian's heart stops. It was his own words in one of his last notes concerning all the information that his wife had collected on the incident. Aphasic, Sebastian gets up slowly from his seat. No... This can't be a coincidence...
- "Don't tell me..." his voice is almost imperceptible.
He leans violently against the armrests of the other chair to face Ruvik in a rage.
- "What are you playing at ?!" he yells.
Ruvik, not in the least shaken, remains completely unmoved
- "You are so predictable," he responds tit for tat. "When will you cease to have such a narrow vision, Seb ?"
- "Shut up !"
Hastily, Sebastian heads for the minibar. He struggles to pick up a glass. With a trembling hand, he looks fixedly at the bottom of it, knowing pertinently that he hadn't bought more alcohol bottles intentionally. He palpates his neck. Feverish, he runs towards the kitchen to pour tap water instead. It was either that or the glass would fly straight towards Ruvik and it didn't matter whether it was futile.
- "You see, that's what prevents you from seeing the truth. Could it be that you do not even want to discover it anymore ? You're too scared for that," Ruvik's voice resonates in the distance.
Sebastian swallows the water in a rush to the point that a part falls on his shirt. Breathless, he puts the glass in the sink carefully. Ruvik listens to his heavy breathing on the other side of the room. He decides to get up in his turn, approaching closer in Sebastian's privacy. These photos are so different from his own family portraits. Those awful paintings of a family trying to show a respectable type... Only Laura was glaring truth, with her radiant and disarming smile, who could soothe any heart.
Yes... The world is small, Seb.
Ruvik doesn't hear reactions from Sebastian anymore, so he turns around and notices him leaning against the entrance of the kitchen, almost in a kind of second state. He looks exhausted, but his eyes are still focused relentlessly on his persecutor. This time, it is his turn to reverse the roles and says the things as they are.
- "Because you're not ?" he whispers, confident.
Ruvik squints as an interrogation.
- "Let me tell you something. You might be the only inventor of this machine, but you were always dependent on someone. You knew it, didn't you? That Jimenez and ... "The others" will stab you in the back at an early opportunity... But you were still with them because you needed them."
This is no surprise. A scowl on the face of the ghost proves that the detective wounded his ego.
You're not the only one who can see through people.
His eyes appear to be more striking than ever. They command him to stay silent immediately. But Sebastian intends to remind him of his own weakness. No matter what the consequences. That psychopath has already literally made him go through hell. Why bother ? Sebastian stands up straight and moves forward to him. He wants to see his revolt closer. Between broken hearts... We understand each other, don't we ?
- "Somehow, you've achieved nothing alone. No matter where you hide, I know you're really on your own this time. And you know what ? Even if you achieve your aims, and trust me, you'll have to step over my corpse... At that precise moment, you will still be scared. Scared of the reunion with her. Scared that she will reject you."
Sebastian's face is just a few meters from Ruvik's one. Their eyes are darkly circled by years of fatigue and determination to fight against the sade fate of ... Destiny? Coincidence ? They've never wondered about that. A feeling of guilt never stopped harassing them instead. That's what was important, that day, they were powerless. What emerged was the decision to make every effort to save what could still be saved. Sebastian spontaneously thinks back of these mysterious mirrors in the world of STEM. Could they refer the idea that he and Ruvik are more related than he thinks ? To the point where he's fixing his own reflection at the moment? Or rather... What he would be if he wasn't restrain himself ? No, impossible. Their desires and sorrows may be closely similar, but Sebastian refuses to think for even a second that they are alike. On the contrary, everything separates them.
- "Terrorized that she will only see the monster that she saved," he concludes inevitably.
Gradually, a succession of noises ring. Slowly, Sebastian gives a sideway glance to indentify it. The tinkling of glass when struck, the coffee table wobbling, the lamp flickering, the ash falling on the ground. His whole apartment is shaking. To complete the picture, that long piercing noise rings again but this time, it was strangely much less loudly than usual. Sebastian lays eyes on Ruvik once again who is standing like a stone statue. When he finally closes his eyelids, everything comes back to normal. Seized by a dry and irritating cough, he puts his left hand against his mouth. Immediately after, he lets escape a small agitated snigger.
- "Brillant analysis detective," he says, voice dripping sarcarsm. "You'll have to congratulate your psychologist. I've never heard you so eloquent."
You poor man. If only you knew that you have more to lose than I do.
He can say whatver he wants, Sebastian feels victorious. He knows that he's right and especially, that the scientist is not indifferent to it. He always said that nobody is untouchable. Ruvik may beat the level of all the criminals whom Sebastian was able to cloister in his life, but he would not make exeption to the rule.
- "They let you go to better use you. Surely against me," with a raspy voice, Ruben goes on with his premonitions as if nothing happened.
- "Oh, I almost forget. That's why you're afraid of too," and so Sebastian continues to heckle him.
- "You can continue to dream that you can possibly remove me from society for all I care," he refutes, not in the slightest impressed.
It didn't take much time for Ruvik to sweep away his moment of weakness with an incredible facility, by simply go back to being himself. Imperious. Self-confident.
- "That's what I'm waiting for," Sebastian affirms, answering Ruvik's previous warning.
If he's not able to come to them, they will necessarily come to him. Sooner or later, they won't be able to resist to tease the bait. He's resolutely waiting for them. He will put an end to this.
- "And when this will happen... I'll take both of you down."
Ruvik elegantly turns his back to Sebastian and walks to the bay window.
- "Such impetuosity," the ghostly figure responds laconically.
Muttering, Sebastian plates his hair back and holds the back of his tense neck that still annoys him. He begins to open drawers on his side.
- "I already told you, though. It wasn't me who dragged you into this."
- "Yeah, you didn't spare me for all that, as I recall."
A broad smile blossoms on Ruben's face. Sebastian gets a small silver case out. There are three cigarettes inside. He's too busy to hear the deep breath at the opposite side of the room. Ruvik is standing by the window, fogging up the glass. He starts to draw something with application while Sebastian, the smoke in mouth, search in different pockets to find the lighter. Savoring his first puff, he keeps thinking about the disappearance of Kidman and Joseph.
I have nothing to lose.
- "Me neither," Ruvik answers out loud, leaving Sebastian flabbergasted.
He knows that Ruvik could apparently read his mind but still... Could he see that far ? Especially now ? Sebastian reduces the distance between him and Ruvik.
- "...This is the real world, isn't it ?"
- "Who knows ? Maybe that is just an unfathomable nightmare that we all have in common. Or maybe I'm just teasing with you," he can't help but messing around with Sebastian, spreading more egnimas.
What the fuck is he trying to do ? Help me or piss me off?
Ruvik gently removes his finger from the window. He looks nostalgically out it. It's almost not raining anymore. He's enjoying the view, but he misses the ocean of gold flowers. It is still nothing compared to feel the world. And... That sweet fragrance that distilled the feeling of comfort and trust... He had to smell it again.
- "But everything must come to an end. If you truly desire to reach it... Then I'm sure you know where to begin."
He's careful not to say what he really thinks but his sagacity was being put to test. The real world, a parallel world ? Somehow, it means nothing to him now. He reminds his own thoughts, now more true than ever.
- "When my world begins and ends ? From now on... This line is a blur."
He slowly disappears like a spectre. A distant lightning roars when Sebastian finally realizes the sketch left by Ruvik. Three stars more or less vertically aligned from smallest to largest, and some sort of a stake hammered in the last one.
It's past 22.00 p.m. He wanders in his apartment to get his stuff. His final mouvement is to slide the revolver on his back and hides it under his shirt. He leaves without taking the precaution of having an umbrella. Outside his door, he smokes the cigarette down to the filter. When he crushes it, the entire city is suddenly plunged into darkness. The power's out everywhere. There is only one distant light to guide him. That one from the lighthouse of the psychiatric hospital. This time, Sebastian is prepared for what might happen. At least that's what he thinks...
