Walter was sitting on his bed, in the little room of Wish House that had been given him some time before. It looked directly to the big Prison Tower, beyond the window in front of the bed, and the woods, in the fog: the Prison looked like a ghost, a ghost coming from the absolute Nothing. So dark, so tall, quite macabre, as its memory in his mind. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes, and touching his left, hurting shoulder. It hurt, because of a big bruise and rivers of blood fallen from it, as consequences of a bad hit, with a rock, in that same afternoon. He was walking around the Orphanage, with Jimmy Stone and George Rosten, when an angry Lobsel Vith came out, and made fall a cascade of rocks, as rain, from the mountain. One of these hit the head of the Leader of the Order, another one hit the leg of Rosten, while one last hit his shoulder, making it bleed. But every attention fallen of Jimmy Stone and his right arm, who were carried to the Hospital, while he had to feel happy for the room in the Orphanage that had been given him, in which spend the night, because he also refused the help offered him by Michael Kaufmann.

De Salvo screams sounding deafening for all over the floors of the Cylindrical Prison. Children crying, the bad small of those little, stained beds, stains for all over the floor of those prison room, the eyes of the children, scared, left often without meals and closed in their rooms, so dirty and awfully stinking.

All of these memories ran into his mind in a few seconds. He closed his blue eyes, and took his left hand to touch his face. The little room as simple, with white walls, a little bed, a chair, a little wardrobe, a little desk. He felt all these things to be inappropriate. It was all wrong, as nothing was really his. Nothing was really there for him, he didn' t worth anything there, as in every other place. That room.. the Orphanage, that bed. He felt everything, he too, out of place.
Sometimes he felt a thief. It happened also then. He had never got anything, never a feeling, never an emotion too. He felt dead inside. He looked at the others' lives with a point of jealousy, also if always silent, so calm and impassable. Nothing had never pass through his face, so candid, or though his eyes, so blue, sometimes quite sweet. He asked for nothing, always hunted in some corner of the Subway Station, or walking through the city, in the night, alone. Nobody asked him for anything. He felt like he had become a kind of monster for the people. A homeless, maybe even without an own dignity, like a forsaken animal. Forsaken by the Father.. forsaken by the Mother. Forsaken by the Mother.. ? Did the Mother really forget about him?


He lied on the bed, slowly, as to avoid feeling new Pain, until he touched it with his back, and took both his hands to his face. He thought about all of these things, all of those questions without an answer. Where did the Mother hide? Why did she let Her son suffer like that, so alone, so inuseful?
.. no. He was not inuseful. And he would have shown this to everyone, when the Sacraments will have been started. Nobody could never have stopped him, when the Mother would have been awoken. It was written in the Holy Bible: She would never forget him, she would never forget the only one, from Her sons, who really could awake her. She sent Him Her Daughter just for this Reason: completing and start the Sacraments.
He thought of Catherine. She.. so beautiful and fragile, quite an utopia. She, and her other half, as an angel and a devil, the good and the evil. The sweetness and the egoism, the innocence and the perversion. The fear and the dominion of senses, the loneliness and the excess, in every possible way, always. Catherine.. and Cynthia. The Mother, and her dirty Reflex. He thought of some words, written in the Bible of the Cult, and he felt like he had understood everything, so easily.
" .. the Good will be given by the Light of the Mother, to the one who will live only in Her name and will carry the Gathering of Souls on Earth. The one who will use Her face with impure heart, will be lost in the circle of Sin. "
It was like everything shined, in a second. He slipped his hands to his blonde hair, taking a short breath, and looking at the ceiling, by the little space between his eyelids. Catherine.. Cynthia. The Gathering.. the Sin. He opened his blue eyes, smiling quite luminous, happy. He felt like he discovered some kind of big and precious secret.

But all that lived just for a few minutes. He thought of him.. Jimmy Stone. He thought of the evil he always made to Catherine, the bruises, the scratches, the blood on her body, her tears, every abuse she always had to take from him in silence, under the pressure of his fists, and his Power, as one of the most powerful man of the whole State. Vicious, arrogant, violent. He thought of her, when she told him about.. her miscarry.

Catherine stopped talking, for long seconds. Her hands held a little more the two ropes that assured the little swing to the tree, in front of the Orphanage. Walter was there, in front of her, looking at her and wiping his blue eyes over her figure. He saw that her Silence was signed by some tears, that ran down from her eyes, over her cheeks. But he was surprised from what she had just finished telling him, to be left without words. He' d never thought that she..
" .. I continued feeling the atrocity of that pain for six months, after the first past , in tears. I' ve been suffering for Jim' s violence from too much time, I didn' t want other creatures to suffer like me, not my children. Not his children. " she broke her silence with thin voice, in tears. She looked at the ground, with empty, dark glance, veiled by Pain. " When Michael took me at the Hospital, he had to do that against my same will. When I woke up, I was in that room. It was full of strange furniture, strange machines, it was all white. Dahlia sat next to me.. she told me that I lost senses again, and she and Michael took me there, because I was in serious danger, and with me, also my twins. I slept for all night long calm, she stayed with me for all the time, and took care of me. But.. the next day, everything fell in misery. "she ended, taking a deep breath. Her heart was beating quickly, her eyes left rivers of tears ran down.

The woman looked for Walter' s eyes in front of her, and found them: careful, full of attention and wonder. He nodded a little, in Silence: he was listening to her words. She looked around, before looking at the moonless sky. " When Michael told me that there was nothing to do, for my children, I had just given them to life. Dahlia held me strong, while I watched them. I.. I desired with all my Strength to be with them, in the embrace of the Mother. All this Misery would have ended, at least. " The words of the Woman sounded as a knife in the chest to Walter. Only then, he moved next to her, and kneeled to the ground, holding her in silence. She was trembling, crying and cold. He covered her little body with his arms, so big in comparison of her, and felt her arms around him, holding him, as no one did never. But her words, did literally leave him without words, and made him hold her stronger, as strong he could. He would never have left her from that embrace, on that evening. " .. thanks, Walter. You' ve always been the more important thing for me. "

He turned over the bed, on the side of the door, on his left. He forgot about his hurting shoulder, and it returned to hurt, in a split second. " Oh.. damn. " he mumbled, lifting up quickly, sitting again on the bed. The right hand kept the shoulder, he didn' t cure it yet. The Pain had flown away, healed by the face of Catherine. He thought of every time he held her like that, when Stone had just committed a new violence on her. A violence that he strongly continued to call Love. He closed his eyes, bending his head at the floor. He thought of every time his lips met the woman ones: in Room 302, in the big Ritual Room of Wish House, in front of Toluca' s Lake. He smiled a little, while he reminded of her face, and her expression. He always thought of her to be similar to a child or maybe to have always been a child, who never had really grew up. But when he reminded of her embrace, her arms, feeling her body so near, although he had never touched it with a finger neither, never.. a shiver ran through his spine.

He stopped dreaming, brutally, when he looked at the little clock on the wall. 23.35. All of his hopes to see the woman died, in a second. He had to be alone, that was his fate, and took a deep breath, lying over the bed again, slowly, to avoid to feel that Pain. Not also physical pain, to the Pain that had been eating him from a whole life. He closed his eyes, once touched the pillow with his head, trying to sleep. But some seconds later, someone knocked at the door of his room. He opened his eyes, surprised to hear it. Who could have come there for him, and at that time of the night? He slowly lifted up from the bed, and caressed with his right hand his dresses, as he tried to be at least good to see. Then, he tried to reach the door, but he felt the pain covering his left leg: he realized that another rock had hit his leg. He held his inferior lip with his white teeth, once reached the door. He took a short breath, feeling he Pain, and opened it. But when he did it, the surprise for him was also bigger than he could ever had imagined.

Catherine was there, holding her hands in front of her lap. She smiled, finding his face beyond the door, and bended her dark head on the left side. " Good evening, Walter. Forgive me for the hour, but when Michael told me about the event, he took me at the hospital, because Jim wanted to see me. Then I had to talk to my sister, because she was angry with me for this reason, and.. I am here. " she finished speaking like this, taking a deep breath, as she had made a big run to him, closing her eyes. Then she returned to watch him, smiling again. " I hope I'm not bothering you. " she said, finally in Silence. The man opened his lips, keeping a perfect Silence, for some seconds, before of stammering some words. " Good.. Good evening to you.. Catherine. I.. I am glad to see.. you. " he replied her, with trembling voice, smiling back weakly. She nodded, while her breath normalized finally. " For luck. How are you? " she asked, leaving her smile, for looking at him without hiding her worry. " I am ok, now. But.. please, come in. " he whispered weakly, while he told her a lie, feeling her worry. Catherine opened her lips, as to replicate, but she nodded, I the end, following him into the room. He closed the door, looking at her, that moved some steps inside. Her eyes ran all over the room, so small and simple, and she took a short breath, before stopping her steps in front of the window. It was raining outside. " What' s happened to you? Are you sure to be ok? " she asked, after some instants of silence, returning to look at him.

The man had been frozen in front of the door by the pain, and by the emotion. He' d never imaged that.. she could be there, for him. He nodded weakly, still motionless. " It' s a simple bruise on the shoulder, Kate. It' s not important. " The woman lifted up her dark, right eyebrow, looking at him, who held his left shoulder with his hand, and kept strangely in feet. " You should sleep, you don' t look to be ok, really. " she moved her steps toward the man, as to help him, but he quickly moved his blonde head, smiling her just a little. " My leg hurts, simply. " he whispered, when she reached him. Catherine looked at him, his brown trousers and his blue jumper: both stained of blood, on the leg, and on the left shoulder. Fresh blood. She opened her black eyes wide it, making return to his glance. " Don' t lie, you' re bleeding. " she looked to sentence, opening her arms toward him, as to help him reaching the bed. " Come with me, please, you need a cure for your sores. " Walter looked at her, lifting his light eyebrows, to hear her words. But he didn' t oppose to her, lifting his right arm to hold her back. The woman moved her steps again to the bed, helping him to follow her by holding his body. It was quite amazing: how could a woman like her, more fragile than him, and who had been rescued from him so many times, hold and help him now?
But this had no importance, in the end. He tried to move a step, slowly, with her, discovering himself lame. He couldn' t keep a low moan, feeling new Pain upon his leg, and he closed his eyes, bending a little his head. Catherine looked at his face, so white, and tried to lift him even, giving him her strength, until she sat with him on the bed, failing. She took a short breath, looking on the bedside table, next to it: there were some disinfectant and bandages, with some wads. Walter let out from his lips another moan, sitting on the bed, and feeling the Pain return just a memory. He followed her glance, taking a short breath. " I have tried to clean my sores, but.. " he whispered weakly, taking again his right hand on his shoulder.

The woman looked at him, as to reproach him with her glance. " You' re mad! " she exclaimed, shaking her long, dark curls. Then she lifted up, coming next to the bedside table, from which she took the wads and the disinfectant. Walter followed her with his glance: for the first time in his life, he felt like a child reproached from his Mother. He smiled just a little, while she returned to watch him, and let the disinfectant flow on the wads. " Come on, show me your shoulder. " she asked him, with that glance, so heavy, for the first time, as she would not admit any opposition. He stayed in silence, for some long seconds, just looking at her, as a frozen statue. Was really possible, all that? But when she bended her head on the right side, looking at him, and lifted up one dark eyebrow, he nodded weakly. He took off his jumper, with real difficulty: when he lifted up his left arm, the Pain grew up. But he suffered in silence, just pushing his lips one against the other. Then he put it on the chair, revealing his white chest, and the shoulder, whit a medium deep, little cut. Catherine opened her eyes, and her lips, watching it, and quickly came next to him, cleaning the sore. She looked in his eyes, smiling a little. " It will burn.. try to resist. "

He reminded of their childhood, in a flash. He was fallen on the ground, and his right knee was bleeding. The little child looked at it, and repressed weakly an expression of worry, watching the blood flow away. " Don' t move. " she said him, running as fast she could into the Wish House, from where she came back, with some sticking plasters and a little bottle of disinfectant. She kneeled next to him, so small and thin, taking her handkerchief, which wet in the fluid, and disinfected his sore. " Don' t cry, it' s ok, Walter. "

The sweet sound of her voice had been broken, by the pain that the wad liberated, with the disinfectant, on the bruise. Walter gave off another moan, closing his eyes, while Catherine looked at him, and let out a sad expression, on her beautiful face. She cleaned the sore slowly, adding other disinfectant on another clean wad, to do that, before she took some bandage, and wrapped them upon his shoulder. He looked at her, following her acts in silence, smiling a little. For a moment, she looked so strong and self confident. She was lovely, so next to him, that he could feel her breath and her scent, that had begun like a kind of addiction, in all those years. He could also see her body, the shape form of her hips, her legs, her breasts, under her black jumper, and her blue jeans. And there, he realized to want her, to desire her as a man could, for the second time. He realized.. to Love her. The Mother listened to his prays.. ? She was so beautiful. Her body, her hands, so delicate. Her face, her lips, so soft, her small nose, her cheeks, her eyes, her ears, her long, black hair, assured behind her head, with only a little part of it free around her amber face.

Catherine took a deep breath, looking at him, once assured the bandage on his shoulder. She couldn' t imagine what those blue eyes were hiding her, and she smiled to the man, taking back his head, and moving one step back, to put the disinfectant on the bedside table. " Well.. done. " she whispered, while she returned to look at him, holding her hands if front of her lap. " About the leg.. " she continued, falling in a new silence, in a second. He looked at her face: her cheeks began red. Walter smiled, nodding slowly. " Is Jim ok? " he asked, looking at her. At that question, the woman stopped smiling. She nodded, moving her steps toward the window again, looking outside: the rain fell down unceasing, the sky was black. " Yes.. I suppose. " she whispered, stopping in front of the window, while he held her arms to her chest. " The contact with the rock gave him only a cut on the forehead. George' s right leg had been hurt too, over the knee. It looks like they will spend a long time in the hospital.. " The woman looked to be happy, for some instants. She smiled, Walter could see it from her reflex in the window. He nodded, taking a short breath. " I see. " he whispered, still looking at her. Catherine smiled honestly, returning to watch him, behind. " You have to show your sores to Michael, anyway. I' m sure he could help you more than I' ve just done.. I' m not a doctor. " she mumbled to him, bending her head on the left side. " Thanks. " Walter voice sounded thin, quite hard to hear, timid. The woman knitted her eyebrows, bending her face ahead, to him, from the window. " .. why do you thank me? " she asked, smiling a little, curious. The man smiled her back, shaking his blonde head. Then he lifted up, walking lame toward her, smiling. He felt the Pain grew up, but he hided it behind his smile, in appearance true. She opened her black eyes wide him, moving her steps, to help the man, but he stopped, in front of her. " Because.. you' re the only one who has always worried about me. " he ended, in a shy whisper, still smiling to her, also if the Pain grew up in atrocity. Catherine had taken her left hand to his chest, and the other one behind his back, as to keep him in feet, and she smiled, cracking her eyelids, while she looked at him, from her long, dark eyelashes. She answered with no other words, but just lifting on her feet, and kissing his right cheek. That act made everything crash, definitively.

Walter felt a shiver ran down, through his spine, and in a second, it was as the fog covered his mind. He hold to himself the body of the woman, so small in front of his, taking his arms, and slowly the left one, behind her hips. Catherine lifted her right hand, caressing sweetly his cheek with her fingers, looking in his eyes, so pure. They looked always the same, in all those years. Innocent, blue, as the eyes of a child.
He reached her lips with his ones, closing his eyes; the woman did it too, holding to his back, while he moved some steps back, to the bed. Once in front of it, he turned and put the woman in his place; Catherine fell sitting on the corner of the bed. Walter felt the Pain grew up again, but it looked so far, won by his own feelings, kneeling in front of her. He kissed her again, undressing her slowly: he kissed her lips, her cheeks, her neck, her chest, as he wanted to kiss every possible millimetre of her body, encouraged by her breath, that soon grew up in little, sweet moans. She held him strong, while his hands caressed her face, and her body, as he wanted to feel her as his, inside his veins.

And then.. Valtiel meet the Mother, while it was raining outside, under thunders and short flashes of light. The Second, Virgin Revelation and the Third One were reunited, for ever.