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10. the truth

The sun was down and the sky had become a dark blanket over the island, looming over like the shadow of death, passively watching over the sinister happenings of the town. There were no stars in the sky, but no clouds either. The detective found that strange, it was almost as if the grace of the cosmos would not shine upon the dark town. The cave had spit him back out onto the same beach he had arrived to the island on, soaking wet and struggling to control his breathing. His mind was working like a clock, running at a thousand miles an hour as he strategized his next move.

The detective knew that Father Solomon had to be confronted with the evidence, but he didn't want to spook the Priest into running away, or worse, staying silent about everything. The detective had to tread carefully here, if he wanted to leave no question unanswered. A part of him was glad that he had come closer to finding the killer, the island was draining him and he wished to leave as soon as he could. As he walked up the sandy slopes of the main beach, his legs suddenly felt heavy, planted to the ground.

He paused for a moment, trying to catch his breath while his vision blurred and his head felt lighter than air on his neck. He had felt these effects before, and he clutched his knees, lowering himself slightly to maintain a consistent breathing pattern. Inhale...exhale...inhale...exhale...in through the nose, out through the mouth. He told himself, desperately trying to stay conscious but it was no use. The detective was too exhausted, his brain power had transgressed it's limit and his body would pay the toll. 

He fell forward into the dark void.

***

The detective dreamt he was a child again. He was in his bed, in the middle of the night, awake and staring at the open door to his bedroom. Only darkness lay beyond, a cold and black darkness that had fallen prey to the demons of the night. As he stared, he heard heavy footsteps echoing through his bedroom, followed by a low rumbling voice. The same voice that he had heard in the cave.

"Confess!" The voice said, "Confess, and I shall allow you penance, the Lord is merciful!" The detective ducked below the covers of his bed sheets, shivering with fear as the voice came closer and closer until it was inside the room. He saw the shadow of a seven foot tall man looming over him, and pulling the covers off, gently.

It was the devil. Wearing the face of a godly man, a Bishop of the church. And when the Bishop opened his mouth to speak, the detective saw rows of jagged sharp teeth, dripping with blood, his blood.

The detective awoke with a stifled shout, sitting up in a bed he did not recognize, in a room he did not recognize. There were bright lights surrounding him, shining into his face and making him squint. There was a small window on his left, where he could see the sun was up once more. He had slept through the night.

"Oh, I'm glad to see you're awake." The detective heard a voice say and he turned to see a man in a grey coat step into the white room and approach him with a needle.

"Who are you? Where am I?" The detective demanded, flinching back and reaching for his gun, before realizing that he had been changed out of his clothes and his firearm had been taken from him.

"Hey now, there's no need to be frightened." The strange man said, waving the needle around playfully. "I'm not going to hurt you." The detective leapt from his bed and wrapped his hand around the man's wrist tightly, pushing him up against the wall and holding him there, all in a single instant.

"I'm going to ask you once more, and this time I want an answer..." The detective said, placing his thumb along the side of the man's wrist, knowing a single snap could tear the man's tendons. "Who are you, and where am I?"