Alex held up a hand to stop her. "Don't start crying again," he ordered, his voice gentle. He had not the least intention of letting this go on; and though she did begin weeping once more, it was because now that they were out in public together she could do nothing about the tears welling into her eyes without attracting notice from every other man within sight. She wondered why Alex should feel so tender towards her: perhaps some odd understanding between them caused him to see things which she herself saw only dimly. It didn't really matter.

"I don't understand you," she said finally. She took hold of one arm as if intending to shake off the touch, but instead brought her fingers to rest gently upon his wrist for comfort's sake. His pulse beat there, strong yet strangely unsteady beneath her fingertips, like a heart trying to pound itself into death through sheer exhaustion. But how much stronger must my own be, I wonder? In any event, hers seemed far too slow, pounding with agonizing slowness... slowing even further... slowing still... The sound became lost somewhere beyond the rim of hearing, echoing down endless corridors. And then—

"You're going away again?" she asked slowly. "When will you come back?" Her grip tightened at the words, pulling him closer until their arms locked around each other. They stood very close together, sharing warmth, almost breathing the same breath, while all around them people continued chattering endlessly, oblivious to the silent conversation taking place under cover of their babbling voices. A new noise reached Alex's ears: faintly above the hubbub of everyday life, rising and falling like waves on the ocean shore, was a woman's voice singing a lullaby in an unknown language. So deep in his trance had he been that he'd heard nothing else; but now this familiar song began to stir a distant memory within him. What is it about these sounds which we never forget? He couldn't remember what the music was called, nor its significance. But something told him that if he ever knew those things, he would also know who or what the singer was.

Alex let go of her, feeling suddenly tired, as though some enormous burden had just slipped from his shoulders. His thoughts were filled with strange images and feelings; for a moment everything seemed hazy, dream-like, as he wandered through corridors whose existence he did not recall before. Then memories came flooding back to him, like cold water breaking against bare skin—memories which brought no sense of shock, but rather one of complete recognition. At last I've remembered... yet I can scarcely believe I'm here... I thought I'd left them all behind long ago... but they follow me still...

The woman's voice died away into silence. For a while longer, the man beside him held fast to the hand she'd given him, reluctant to release the contact so soon after coming face to face once more with the forgotten past. Finally, however, he felt compelled to break the link between them, releasing the fingers which gripped his own almost painfully tight. There was pain there too: a wound of loneliness which needed time and solitude to heal. And perhaps love will help it mend again. Yet I don't feel much like giving comfort to anyone at the moment, least of all myself. My only wish at present is simply to be alone again... even if that means losing sight of you again forever! The temptation to leave without saying goodbye tore at him like a sharp blade buried deep within flesh; but Alex had made up his mind by then to tell her nothing until he knew exactly how he stood towards her himself; until he understood whether she loved him in return or merely feared him for what he might do to her if he were ever driven out on an icy plain to die.

He moved quickly across the street, making no effort now to hide his destination from her. "I'm going," he said. He looked back over one shoulder, knowing full well that she could not see his face, not unless he chose to turn around and reveal himself. Instead, he waited with growing impatience, wanting to be free of these surroundings as quickly as possible. All these people... this traffic... these sounds... so many sights and smells... and yet all meaningless. They mean nothing... Nothing of any importance has happened today... But I have come close enough... So very near... Now... Now... At last I know why I was brought here.

A bright light flashed above a door halfway down the street, dazzling both of them momentarily, before fading into darkness once more. This must be it—the doorway through which they would enter. The glow faded slowly, like the dying embers of a fire burning itself out.

Alex paused just before entering, looking back at the woman standing where he had left her—standing still and motionless and watching him go. She raised her arms in farewell; but though he responded with his own gesture of parting, there seemed something lacking about his reply. A look of deep regret appeared in his eyes; a sense of loss came with each step that took him farther away. Yet he didn't really understand what he felt until he reached the door: then suddenly all things became clear. For only when he touched the surface did he realize that nothing had changed. It felt the same as he remembered: cold, lifeless, unyielding. There was no difference. And as he began to push the door open, he heard her call to him again.

"You won't forget me?" Her voice echoed off blank walls. "You won't ever leave again? Not like you promised, you'll come back this time..."

He tried to tell her that she needn't worry, but he couldn't find the words. The door swung shut behind him with a clang that sounded too loud and final for comfort, almost driving him back inside. Then the street outside vanished from view as though it never existed at all. His feet crunched across ice for a long while after that, crunching in his ears rather than on his boots. He saw nothing, not even stars, nor anything else save the endless dark below him. In the distance ahead lay nothing but death—nothing beyond the end of life itself. He'd made his choice. What could I have done differently, he asked himself? Could I have chosen otherwise? I was given my chance once already, and failed—failed utterly. This time I'm ready, willing, and able.

At last he reached the edge of the plain, the frozen shore where everything was lost beneath an icy mist, stretching out far into space. A great emptiness, like a gaping hole into another world, spread out before him, empty, lifeless. But the land surrounding the rim was still covered with a thin crust of solid earth. At least there would be somewhere to start. If only they hadn't lied to him... but there was nothing now to be gained by regretting past mistakes, or wishing for the impossible. It's too late for that. Now all that remains is to take the first step.

The surface was hard-packed, dry and cracked; and Alex found that it was much easier going when he kept his weight evenly distributed between both legs. After several hundred yards he stopped to catch his breath, glancing about him as he rested. He wondered whether to keep going straight across the face of the plain in a straight line, without stopping. Yet if this were so, how long should he allow himself? Perhaps half the day? No: two days? Or perhaps even three? When the sun went down on the third evening, would that mean safety? Or must he go on until the ice melted, bringing a new and terrible night which might kill him in his sleep—if it did not drive him mad first with hunger and thirst? I know what I must do. I cannot afford any more delays. The rest depends upon fate, and the power of my own will. I've made my decision. The die has been cast.

Alex set off again, heading due north, hoping vaguely for something different each time he glanced over towards the horizon. Then he looked back at the frozen ground underfoot and saw a figure lying there behind him, some little way off. He ran back to help her up. She was just waking from her faint. "Are you all right?" he asked anxiously. Her eyes opened slowly. She saw him clearly then; but instead of answering, she simply smiled and asked if the journey had proved successful thus far. What is the point of asking me such questions? he thought angrily. Why don't you get up and walk with me, or tell me the truth for once? But he was careful not to say anything.

"We can stop here for now," he said after a while, gesturing to indicate their surroundings.

"Is that the best we'll find in the next few miles?" she asked carefully, speaking in a whisper so that no one else could hear them talking. They were sitting close together on the hard surface, sharing warmth. He turned his face away in disgust, feeling his skin crawl beneath the touch of her fingers as they reached out for his hand. He wished he'd never given it to her in the first place—that he'd held on longer than he did before letting go!

He shook himself free of her and stood up abruptly. It wasn't fair that he should feel like this. His conscience didn't allow him much room for complaint: a woman had begged him not to leave her, and not even an hour later he'd found another, equally lonely. Yet still he felt that he was deceiving the second one too. No matter what he told her, the fact remained that neither of these women ever knew why he came to see them, or where he was going. How could either possibly trust what he might say? The first would fear betrayal, because she already believed he was capable of treachery; and the other... Well, how long would she wait? For how long would she be willing to share herself with someone who couldn't give her any reason to believe in him? All the same, I have to do something—or I will lose the last remaining shreds of my own self-respect. I've made my choice now.

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"I'm sorry, Bella," Alex said softly. "It's my own fault, really. I ought to have told you everything sooner."

"What is it you haven't been telling me?" she whispered. "Are you in some kind of danger?"

"Yes. Perhaps worse than you think. If only you had been there when it happened..."

"What did happen?" She sounded frightened suddenly. Her eyes widened in disbelief. Then a strange look passed across her face as though her mind were playing tricks on her. She stared at him for several seconds without saying anything. A moment later the color drained from her cheeks as she began trembling all over again. Suddenly a dreadful suspicion filled her gaze and froze the words upon his lips. He watched her run towards him, but by then the blow that struck his back was almost gentle—the smallest movement possible which yet managed to send his head spinning forward so that his chin slammed into his chest, sending sparks flying through his brain. At the same time, an overwhelming sensation of pain forced itself up out of his feet until it reached his skull. It felt as if every nerve in his body had just turned molten hot.

He vaguely saw as his companion fell to the ground, being drown in the pool of red.

With one final jolt, his whole being collapsed onto the surface beneath him like a collapsing star; and once more he saw nothing... heard nothing... felt nothing... no light... no dark... no warmth... no coldness... no sound... no smell... not even the sense of touch... Nothing... except... silence... and emptiness...

"I'm so sorry..."

***

"He can't hear us!" the woman cried frantically. "No matter what you say to me, I won't be able to make him understand! He'll never believe me anyway—he thinks I'm crazy already." But her voice broke in despair. For a brief second it seemed as though she might actually begin to cry, and then she swallowed her tears and faced Alex with angry defiance. The fury in her eyes would have terrified most people; but Alex found himself drawn deeper inside it with each passing moment, held captive by the strength of her anger and determination. When she spoke again, there was such hatred in her tone that she sounded completely deranged:

"You're right about me," she hissed between clenched teeth. "I am insane. But, it's you who made me like this!"

Alex watched helplessly as she stabbed a knife into his hand—his own blood dripping down along the palmrest of the chair he was tied to. Her face was contorted with rage, while sweat glistened on her brow, running into her hairline, and pouring off the tip of her nose. Yet when she stood up to move away, something else happened. A sudden change came over her, and in a moment or two her expression changed too. She got closer to him and lowered her head until it rested against his arm. Tears ran unchecked down her cheeks, washing the lines of pain from her features.

"Please... please forgive me..."

Alex closed his eyes wearily. His head had been hurting ever since he'd woken from the deep sleep he'd fallen into after being knocked unconscious; yet he still couldn't quite bring himself to believe how much all that had hurt. He hadn't known that anything could cause so many bruises, and yet somehow the experience only added to his feeling of well-being. If that's what it means to be alive—what better way can there be?

"I... I just love you so much, Alex! You know that. And I... I've always loved you... more than anyone else. It's my fault you went away without me—and you left me here alone, with no one to look after me anymore."

The woman moved even closer to him now, putting a hand on either side of his head, leaning in to whisper in his ear. The sweet smell of perfume reached out for him as she did so. Her name—Karen. She was a beautiful young girl in her late twenties.

"I never stopped loving you," she continued, "but I couldn't tell you that, or I knew I would lose everything. So instead I let myself fall into this madness—because if you thought I didn't care about you any more, then maybe you would come back this time and take me with you again!"

She pulled herself closer still, pressing herself into his body and wrapping both arms around him.

"If you'd told me why you wanted to go away," Karen said sadly, "I wouldn't have minded so much. But when you started to explain, it seemed like every word that came out of your mouth sounded like the truth—as though it were something everyone should know. And I began thinking... what if it is the truth?"

Her voice had become softer; but it wasn't until the last words that Alex noticed her tears falling onto his chest, making little wet spots there upon which her warm breath soon rested.

"What if... what if you really don't love me at all...? What do I say? How can I convince you to stay? Tell me what I can do..."

Alex listened to her entreaty, unable to resist its sweetness and charm. It's a miracle he doesn't just melt away under these emotions, he thought tiredly—like some kind of desert mirage. If only he could find a way out of this nightmare!

"I hate it! I hate it! If only we could be together as long as we lived!"

Her face contorted with madness as she stabbed at his shoulder with the knife.

"Please, Alex, please... I'm begging you, please!"

The blade sank deep into his flesh, yet still Alex felt no pain. A moment later she let go of his arm, dropping her weapon to the ground beside them both, before sliding her hand over his face and kissing him softly on either cheek. The taste was sweet, like honey, and so was her skin: pale white and smooth. She pressed herself against him even harder now. He tried not to respond to this gesture, feeling more embarrassed than anything else. She kissed his neck, running her tongue downwards in little circles around his collarbone. His breathing became heavier with each passing second. Then Karen moved lower again, touching the wound on his shoulder with her lips. Her touch was gentle; tender almost.

"Don't stop me," she whispered—so low that it barely reached the depths of his consciousness where the sound of her voice remained fixed forever after, repeating itself endlessly within an empty void; lost; unheard...

Alex felt her tongue move around his wound, exploring its edges. At first he felt nothing. But then, gradually, he began to feel something growing beneath her caresses. And once he realized what was happening, he could do little to resist. It wasn't as though he wanted to resist. There was no point trying any longer anyway—for a while at least. It wasn't going anywhere but here anyway, and there was nowhere left for it to go.

"My heart, it hurts so much, Alex..."

She continued kissing his wounds, while sucking the blood out of them.

"That's why I want you to stay with me," she explained. "Because I love you so so very much. It drives me crazy."

She looked up at him again before beginning to kiss and lick him all over, and when their eyes met again, she showed a smile of understanding and gratitude. She pressed herself into him, pressing her body into him with such force that she nearly drove him off balance; and when they kissed this time, their lips locked together like lovers who'd never been parted in their lives, his whole being exploded in her arms. As his head fell forward towards hers, his mind cleared momentarily, allowing the full implications of everything he was feeling to take root inside his conscious awareness: the reality of which was greater than anything he had ever experienced. His senses became aware of every detail about him—the scent of flowers and perfume in the air, the taste of Karen's breath upon his lips, the taste of his blood, the sound of her heart beating against his chest, each individual sensation coming together to form one great wave of feelings; yet even then it failed to capture the totality of it because it would always be impossible for anyone else to share it. The emotion it represented couldn't have any equal in any other way...

Her tongue invaded his mouth now; it explored, tasted, lingered, teased, and played. When she licked the place where his missing tongue should have been, he felt some strange connection between his body and her own. It was almost as though he could feel her sensations through their contact. Her hands moved downwards over his shoulders as well, reaching around behind him until they came to rest on his naked back. He didn't feel cold or hot, only a deep sense of warmth spread throughout him, filling him with its soothing presence like warm honey poured out of a jar. And at last Alex realized what Karen's love really meant.

***

"Don't worry," Karen said softly. "You'll never have to leave again."

She pushed Alex gently backwards into an open doorway that led into the next room, but before he had the chance to follow, she grabbed hold of him again by the collar attached to his neck and held him close to her.

"This is the perfect place for us, isn't it?" she whispered. "There are so many rooms in this house; and no-one ever comes here anyway. No-one will ever know we're here." She looked up into his eyes once more, giving him another look of such trust, faithfulness, devotion, affection—such simple yet pure adoration—that nothing less would do—not even if all other women were still waiting to receive their lovers' embraces! She smiled—her sweetest smile yet—.

And then she kissed him one final time...

***