The officers had just left. In the time before they had come in to see me, I had quickly come to the conclusion that no one would believe the truth of what had happened to me.

True, some remarkable changes had been made to my body; I could do things now that no normal human could, and maybe I could demonstrate some small feats of what would be considered magic here. But what would it gain me? At best I would become a freak show to be examined by shrinks, scientists and doctors to find out all I knew, what my full capabilities were and how I was changed to accommodate them. Then they would probably end up dissecting me after I had some kind of accident.

No gain there at all for me. I was much better off acting dumb; I don't remember anything after I left the house officer, it's all a complete blank until I woke up here and the doctor told me that I'd been missing a whole year. What knives? I really do not know what your talking about.

I had kept it up throughout their questioning, did not slip up at all. But I knew they did not really believe me.

After all who could forget a whole year from the day they went missing until the day they returned. Too convenient, far too convenient. I would not have believed me either.

But what other choice did I have? I had to keep up the pretence. I had done nothing wrong, and so as long as I didn’t tell them anything, they would eventually have to leave me alone.

One good thing came from their visit, Doctor Peters had said that, in his opinion, I no longer posed a threat to the medical staff, and so they had removed my restraints before the interview. I would have hated for Maggie and Tony to see me tied down like that.

As the officers left, they told me that my family would be allowed in shortly. It was only then that it really hit me – it really was happening, I was going to see them again. I had been dreaming of this moment for years, ten whole years. Yet deep down I had believed that I would never see either of them ever again.

Of all the things that had happened to me, nothing had unnerved me as much as this moment. All of my fantasies of finding my way home and of being reunited, had not prepared me one iota for this; I could feel the silly grin that I knew was spread right across my face.

Then it came to me – I would have to lie to Maggie and Tony too, pretend that I could not remember anything at all. If I didn't, even if I brought them into my full confidence and they believed me, they would slip up somehow. And the police would never let up then.

I felt sick inside. All the horrors I had committed at his bidding, all the lies I had told, all the deceit, and now when I was home and safe, the lies would have to continue, even to the ones I loved. But again, what choice did I have? I asked myself, they would not believe me anyway. Maybe, just maybe, I could tell them some of the truth later, much later when things were back to normal, the way they used to be.

At that thought I went cold. What was I thinking? After all I had been through, after what they had done to my friends, and my promise to the woman Carthia to avenge them. Could I just forget all that had happened to me, forget them and what she had done to them, and just return to my old life? Could I?

Before I could answer my own question the door opened, a woman police officer came in, and Maggie and Tony followed. In that instant all rational thought left me. I couldn't speak, I just stared at both of them with that big stupid grin again spread right across my face.

Maggie ran forward and hugged me. She was speaking but I couldn't hear her, I was too busy laughing like a madman. I could see Tony looking and hanging back so I beckoned him forward, and then I nearly spoke. I nearly said how much I had missed them both, and it would have been said as one who had truly not seen them in a very, very long time – not someone who had just told the police he remembered nothing at all of the time he had been missing, and so must have been with them only yesterday.

Instead I hurriedly said, "Maggie, Tony. I am so glad you’re both here. I'm so confused, the police say that I’ve been missing, that I’ve been gone for a whole year. They want to know where I've been. I was carrying knives they said, but I don't remember anything. Is it true Maggie? I only left you yesterday and I saw you, Tony, sometime last week. Tell me its a mistake, all some silly joke."

I knew then that this was going to be harder than I thought, much, much harder. I could see from Maggie's face that there was doubt there already, that the police had spoken to her and expressed their concerns. She looked wary, disbelieving, and it broke my heart.

I kept it up though. Maggie and Tony told me everything that had happened from the time I'd left the house that fateful day, and I expressed wonder and disbelief, and lied through my teeth whenever they asked a question of me.

Throughout I kept to my story – I remember leaving the house but did not remember anything after, not even getting into the car; the next thing I knew I was in the hospital bed, restrained, and Doctor Peters was talking to me. I didn't remember anything of the violence in the theatre, I only knew what the doctor had told me.

I hated what I was doing, I was lying to two people I loved, two people I had spent years longing to be with again. But if I told the truth now, I would be locked up as a madman. Or even worse, someone would believe me and I really did not want to imagine the consequences of that.

I was rescued from any more lies when Dr Peters came back. He told Maggie and Tony that they had to leave as further tests were required to try and identify the cause of my memory loss, and that I also needed to rest.

Maggie argued a little, torn between her need to never allow me out of her sight again, and to do what she knew was best for me. Tony however really surprised us both when he told Maggie and the Doctor that he needed five minutes alone with me, and then refused to budge.

I watched as Maggie and the doctor left, and then turned to Tony. I had a good idea what was coming. We had both always been good at reading each others emotions.

Tony stared at me for a long moment and I just waited him out, knowing that he would be the first to speak; he always was. It wasn't long coming.

"Dad, what's going on? Your not telling us the truth, I can tell. We've always been open and honest with each other ever since I can remember, you've even told me things that you were afraid to tell Maggie. So what's happened to change that? Why are you pretending that you don’t remember anything? You do! I can tell that you're lying and keeping something back. You must remember at least some of what happened to you. Christ look at you, you’ve changed so much – you look years younger and you've lost a load of weight, your hair’s much longer, and darker than it was. Even your speech is different, you talk strangely, your use of words is really peculiar and you have an accent that I can’t place at all… and… you’re lying to us. I just know you are."

Until then he had been standing, but as he finished he slumped into the chair next to the bed. Looking me straight in the eye, he said, "Well?" and then fell silent waiting for me to respond.

I knew this had been coming. I doubted that I had fooled Maggie even, but as long as the authorities had no reason to hold me, even if they suspected I was holding back, it would be fine.

They would have to let me go and I would be back with my family, and I could then decide what I needed to do next.

But for that to happen I needed to ensure that neither Tony or Maggie said anything that might give the police a reason to hold me. I let out a sigh, I was not sure if it was frustration at having to answer Tony or relief at being able to talk about it to someone.

"Tony, I love you and trust you with my life, and as you said, we have never had secrets. But now I need you to trust me. You are right. I do remember, but no one can know that. Not even Maggie… at least not yet."

Tony opened his mouth to speak, but I held up my hand and stopped him. "Let me finish please. I will tell you what happened to me, I promise. I need you to know. I need to tell someone, I need someone to believe me. But not now, not yet. As far as everyone is concerned, I do not remember anything. And that is how it has got to stay. When the time is right, I will tell you everything. But for now you can't even tell Maggie what I have just said. She will not be able to leave it at that. I know her, she will just push and push… Please Tony, promise me."

"Why Dad? Why can't you tell us what happened to you, and where you've been? This is insane. You've been gone a whole year and we've been out of our minds with worry. I'd given up on ever seeing you again… I thought you were dead. And now that you're back, you refuse to tell us anything at all about what happened to you!"

I jumped in before he could say any more, speaking more harshly than I had intended, far too harshly. The words were few and simple. "Tony, stop! Listen to what I have to say!" But they were enough, more than enough. I had spoken with the voice, the voice that I had used so often to instil fear and terror in those I was set upon. The room filled with silence, as a look of shock crossed Tony's face. Shame and desperation battled inside me; I had never so much as raised my voice to Tony before, ever. I had not intended to speak to him in that way, with that voice, but I really needed him to listen to what I had to say. And yet I was so very ashamed of the look on his face, a look that I had put there.

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I took a deep, deep breath before I spoke next. Taking the time to think through what I needed to say. He was my son but also my friend, and I wanted to tell him how much I loved him, hold him and tell him that everything would all be all right now that his father was home, and that life would be back to the way it was. Yet another part of me wanted to blurt it all out and tell him of all the evils that had befallen me, and to ask understanding and forgiveness for all those that I myself had inflicted.

But I could not do that now. I needed to get out of this hospital and get free from the attentions of the police and prying questions from the media. The only way to do that was to keep my story simple – I remember nothing. What I needed was for the authorities to accept that I did not remember anything and let me be. But if Tony or Maggie showed doubt then the whole thing would turn into a media circus.

"I'm sorry, Tony. Really sorry. I shouldn’t have spoken to you that way… but please listen to me. I need your help. I've never asked before, but I need your help now. I need the authorities to accept that I do not remember. Then they will stop questioning, and let me come home. But if they even suspect that you don't believe me, they will never let it go, and then the press will get hold of it and I'll never be free of it. We will never be free of it. If I tell them the truth, they'll think that I’m a madman. No one will believe the story I have to tell. I only hope that I can convince you the truth of it when the time is right. For now I can tell you this much, but again its for you and you alone. I did not disappear by choice, I haven’t been away all this time because I wanted to. I have spent every waking minute thinking about you both, and trying to find a way home. I'm a victim in all this. I have done nothing wrong or illegal, but they will never believe my story.… So will you help me, Tony?"

Slowly, as Tony had listened to me, the shock on his face had dissipated, but as he spoke his tone was serious, very serious and tinged with anger. "Yes, Dad I will help you, and I will keep what you’ve just said between the two of us. I’ll make out that I believe you to anyone who asks, even Maggie…. But my help comes with a price… I want to know what happened to you, everything. I want the whole story."

Before I could respond the door opened and the doctor walked in again, and it was obviously from his look that he wanting Tony to leave. But he didn’t get a chance to speak either, because Tony stood and marched to the door, turning his head slightly to glance back at me as he did so. He was obviously upset, his face drawn and pale, and in his eyes I saw his disappointment and sorrow at a Father who no longer trusted him enough to tell him the truth.

I suppose there was nothing else that could have been said, certainly not with the doctor present, but I felt sick inside. I was home, home with those I loved after all this time, and yet I had already alienated my son and, if my guess was right, Maggie very much doubted my story too.

###

The dreams came early that night. The doctor had offered something to help me sleep but I'd refused, wanting keep my mind clear to think things through. In hind sight that was probably a mistake – the drugs might have kept the dreams away.

I was sat in the dark, pitch dark. I really could not see my own hand held up to my face. It was cold, the type of cold that sinks into your bones, the type of cold that does not go away even when you stand in front of an open fire. I ached everywhere from the beatings; breathing was excruciatingly painful, and at least three of my fingers were broken. I knew, somehow, that I had been there in the dark for a very, very long time, and yet I prayed that they would leave me longer still, forever even – that they would let me die there in the dark.

But I knew that would not happen, I knew that they would come. They would leave me, like all the other times, until I dared to hope that I was forgotten – then they would come.

A fresh wave of fear tore through me as I thought of them coming for me. What if when they came for me, it was not for a beating, what if I was to be taken to him again. I almost retched at the thought. "Please let it be a beating please, please," I whimpered over and over as I sat there alone in the dark.

Some time later, a long time later, the noises started – they were coming for me. I began to shake, I couldn't control myself. This is how it always was, in my dreams, and back then when it was real. They came, they made noises to let me know they were coming, but they took their time. Time for the fear to seep into me. I knelt and prayed. I had never been religious in my old life, but one’s beliefs soon change when pain, deprivation and terror is all you have. The prayers never worked – they always came.

I was locked in my cell, but dreams have no boundaries, and I could see them laughing and gloating as they approached my cell.

Two of them as always. One a small deformed, dwarfish figure with a wide twisted grin full of sharply pointed, rotting teeth; the other a hulking figure almost as wide as the walkway.

The smaller tapped the wall with his club, snickering as he did so; his way of letting me know that they were coming for me.

The hulk carried a joint of raw meat in one hand, tearing chunks off with his huge jaws.

###

I woke up bathed in sweat. It was still dark; slithers of light coming from under the door gave slight visibility, but most of the room was in darkness.

Something was not right, the dreams usually went on longer, much longer. Something had disturbed me. I stayed still, not even moving my head, and scanned the room as best I could from my prone position. I could make out a shape sat by the far wall, it was a person that much I could tell, but no more than that.

Should I speak, or just remain silent and see what happened?

The choice was taken from me when the figure stood and walked to the door. Through the dim light I could just make out that it was Maggie.

I sat up and she turned back from the door towards me.

"Dave, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. You finally seemed to be sleeping peacefully, so I thought I'd leave. I tried to be quiet," she said.

"It's okay Maggie, come here and sit by me. What are you doing here in the middle of the night anyway? I'm surprised they let you in," I replied.

Maggie sat on the edge of the bed. My eyes had adjusted somewhat but I could still only make out her outline and a very slight gleam from her eyes. She began to speak but choked back the words, and only then did I realise that she was almost in tears. I leaned forward and pulled her close. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, reassure her and make it right. But I already knew what the problem was – it was me and all the lies I had told.

She pulled out of my arms and, with a tremulous voice, said, "Oh Dave, I prayed for so very long for you to come home to us. I played it over and over in my mind – I imagined how we would cope if you were injured or crippled even, how I would even forgive you if you'd run off with someone else. I just wanted you back, but I never expected this. I've thought of nothing else since you told us that you can’t remember. Not just what you said, but how you said it; I tried to read between the lines. Yes, you had a blow to the head and must have been through a great deal, and could be in shock. But the police have their doubts about your story, about you not remembering, and to be honest so do I. It seems far too convenient that you don't remember anything at all about your disappearance. Then there's these knives and weapons that they said you were carrying. You know how I hate violence of any sort. Just the thought of it terrifies me… I don't think I can take much more Dave! You're back, but you’re different somehow. You’re holding something back, I know you are, and it frightens me. It really does."

I sat silently while she spoke, taking in what she said, but at the same time my mind worked nineteen to the dozen processing her words, trying to understand what they meant for our relationship, and what I could say to try and help her understand. I had thought that eventually I would be able to tell Maggie, if not all, at least the gist of what happened to me.

But violence had been an every day part of my life for so very long, and I myself was responsible for so many horrific acts, so how could I possible expect Maggie to understand, let alone accept what I had done, and what I now was.

Could I keep so much from her and still have a normal relationship? I was different now, much more so than Maggie thought. Could I adapt to be the Dave she remembered?

It came to me then, I suppose it should have been obvious from the start, but I had been fooling myself with my hopes. This was never going to work for us. After all I had been through, and how much I had changed, I could never fit into Maggie's idea of what I was, what I should be. And she could never accept me as I was now. She would never be able to understand and forgive all that I had done, even if she believed me in the first place.

And there was more, the core of it for me I suppose. I could not forget my promise to the woman Carthia, I could never put that to one side. The person I was now would not allow it. I would find a way back to avenge Jain and the others, no matter what the cost to myself. No matter what the cost to my family. That was who I was now, and I could not change. We would never be able to go back to how we were.

I realised that Maggie was waiting for me to say something. Despite all that had gone through my head, I reached out and took her hand and held it for a long moment before I eventually spoke, "The doctor told me that I can come home tomorrow… so go home now and try get some sleep. Bring over some clothes for me in the morning, and we'll talk when we get home. Now is not the time… They say that things always seem better in the morning. It sounds corny, but it is true. Go home get some sleep."

Maggie argued that there was no way I was well enough to be let out – I had a broken leg and ribs, and also a bump to the head, not to mention my memory loss.

But I did eventually make her promise to come and pick me up at ten the next day. It was all lies of course, the doctor wanted to run more tests. But unless the police arrested me, there was nothing they could do – I would just sign myself out.

Maggie left and I racked my brain trying to find something, anything that I could do or say that would make things right between us. But it was impossible, there was nothing I could do, nothing short of spending the rest of my life living a lie. And I could not do that. It would have been better for all of us if I had never returned.

I lay there then until morning, reliving all that had happened over the last few days, trying to understand what possible motive the woman Carthia and the Watcher, who I was sure controlled all that happened that day, could have had for sending me home.

Who were they? What was it all about? Why send me here and then kill my companions, and why, other than out of sheer vindictive cruelty, should she tell me what she planned to do?