He opens the door before I even have so much of an inkling of a chance to reach for the doorbell.

He looks at me. At I look at him. It’s a mirror image. Only the mirror is cracked, and its glass is miscreated to begin with. He smiles. I can’t. So he stops bothering to smile, too.

“Hey.” he says.

I can hear the window howling in the distance. How far could I run if I tried to turn on my heel here? Would I even reach anything? Would I simply loop back here? This is where I was always going to end up, apparently. Was I always going to fall? Was there always going to be a plane crash?

Was it always going to be so cold?

His eyes are that of a demon.

And Ushiromiya Battler was never anything but. As far as I can remember, at least.

Unfazed by my silence, he simply steps aside, motioning me in. “You must be freezing. Come in.”

Even from here, I can smell the blood. I can hear the buzzing of the flies. I know what he’s done. I’ve tried to keep it as far away from me as I could. And it only festered. Now I’m not only unable to keep it in – it’s opening its doors to me.

And I have no choice but to participate.

I take a step inside. I gag.

“You’ll get used to it.” he tells me. “Trust me, it’s not like I like it this way. It just won’t come off.”

I see no corpses. Nor defiled organs. Nor heads in jars. Nor giant pools of blood. It’s the guesthouse, as it’s always supposed to have been. But I know it’s all wrong. Its in the walls. It’s in the floor. It’s in the ceiling. It’s in the buzzing of the light. It’s everywhere. They’re everywhere. They’re in this place. As a floorboard creaks, I hear Maria’s last sobs. The cracking of her neck. I want to vomit. I can’t. There’s nothing left in me. I’m starving. It hurts.

He leads me into the lounge. Hopping over the bar, he looks through the numerous bottles. He shows me they spill endlessly. He quite likes that. His drink of choice is gin. Unfortunately, so is mine.

He pours me a glass. I drink half of it. Whether this place is supposed to be real or not, the gin feels real enough.

Slowly, he moves from the back and next to me. His eyes never leaving me. Like an animal waiting to pounce. I’m scared. But the cold’s making me tremble enough. It doesn’t matter. He sees through me. I know he does.

He sniffs, clinks his glass against mine, and takes a sip.

The grandfather clock in the corner echoes in the room. Tick-tock. Every moment of silence a blessing. Every moment of waiting a curse.

Here’s to hopping the former outweighs the latter. Because he’s opening his mouth. And whatever’s gonna happen is gonna happen.

“I’m going to make an appeal now.” he says. “Not to your emotion. You know how well that’s gone for me. Ha ha.” He takes another sip. “Let’s get one thing out of the way: there’s no reason for you to come back.”

I shake my head. “You’re wrong. There’s Ikuko.”

He sighs. “Who do you think Shiro brought in from the cold, man? Who do you think was dumb enough to carry your crippled ass to the shore?”

I keep shaking my head. “It’s not her.”

“She went out there with you. You could only make it so far. Tsujiko saw you. She didn’t see her. She was probably right next to you, but… the snow must’ve buried her just a little bit more.”

“Shut up.”

“Even if the dead woman isn’t her, she must’ve gone with you. If she did, there’s no other shelter she could’ve found besides the mansion. And no other strangers popped at the door. Conclusion: given how long it’s been, she’s frozen to death, then, either way. The island was a deathtrap from the start.”

“I said—”

“And, on the off-chance she DIDN’T go with you to the island, it would only be in the case where she’d died in the plane crash.”

“—Shut up.”

“You’re upset. I get it. That witch outside must’ve told you some pretty messed up things, right?” He refills my glass. “I know what that’s like. Those women really know how to get to a core of a guy, you know? Even for a guy that’s not supposed to have one. Ha ha. And, I understand. I feel it. You were upset when she said you’d make a better ending to the story. You’re upset they’ve somehow constructed and perverted your story in the real world.”

“It – wasn’t just mine.” I squeeze my glass. “She made it, too. And she was so happy when she first showed it to me. All I did was throw in some plot ideas. The rest was all her. I really liked it. I think she did, too. She was proud of it. She was smiling. And not in the way she usually did. There’s always – always a side to her, and that was one I rarely got to see. She was thrilled. I was thrilled. She was childish, but this was the – the pure child, come to life. And I loved that about her. And when I read the text – THAT was HER. Not this… this garbage they’ve had me read. These people are all just caricatures. She actually made me CARE. It wasn’t just a mystery story; it was good enough to be more than that.”

I throw the glass against the wall. “I would’ve never skipped anything. Not a single word.”

“Did you ever tell her that?” he asks.

“What?”

“Did you ever tell her you loved her?”

“What… kind of a question… is that?” I stammer. “I—”

“Because you can’t do that. Not anymore. She’s dead. And she’s not coming back.”

“Screw you!” I grit my teeth. “She’s not dead.”

“It wasn’t your fault. You’re still out cold.”

“Shut up!”

“But here’s the thing, Tohya.” He snaps his fingers. “If you stay here, you can be whoever you want. Now, me – I don’t have much imagination. Who I am would never allow me to build anything more than this: a monument to who I am. To what I’ve done. But you? You have the hope to create a whole new world here. One where you’re happy with her. One where you have the strength to walk in. And it’s a fantasy you can make yourself believe in; over time, you’ll probably forget it’s not even real.”

“But it won’t be real.” I point out.

“Does it matter? You’ll be happy. And you’ll believe she’s happy. How is that different from the usual?”

“Strange.” I murmur.

“Hm?”

“I thought you said you’d appeal to my reason. Not my emotion.”

“Reasonable people want happiness just as much as the emotional ones. The difference is, I’m not going to sell you bullshit. Letting me go also entails… letting me go. Now, I’m not saying I’ll become a mass-murderer. I’ve had plenty of time to think about that. I might not even do anything bad. But I doubt I’ll do much good. I’ll exist. I’ll have desires. And I’ll act on them. And I’ll be disappointed when it doesn’t end up meaning much. I won’t cry at night over what I’ve done. Nor will I worry that someday you’ll come back and overtake me.”

“You don’t know what it’s like. Being out there, with someone else walking in your step.” I say.

“You’re right.” he admits. “I don’t. But this body’s too old to have that brain surgery Ikuko offered you all those decades ago. I’ll have to make do with the situation. Something tells me I’ll manage.”

I laugh. “You really must think I’m a dumbass. I have your memories. I know how you operate. This is all just some kind of a trick.”

“If I wanted to kill you,” he says, “you would’ve died the moment you showed up on my doorstep. Unceremoniously erased. Not a shred of you left. Your mind’s broken. Mine’s the same as it always was. You have no power here. You’re just a sad, little old man. The very fact you’re able to stand on your own two feet is a GIFT I’ve given you.”

“Where was that decency when you were killing your family?” I ask.

“The way I see it,” he crosses his legs, “they could’ve saved themselves at any point. All they had to do was figure out I was the one behind it. Or solved the epitaph. Even if we both know the latter was never gonna happen.” He clears his throat. “Look, we can play this little game of jabs all night long. But you know who I am. And I know who you are. I’ve said my peace. Now it’s up to you to decide.”

“I thought you could kill me at any point?”

“I’d feel much better about it if you just made it easier on both of us.”

“Okay.” I say. “I’ll make this real easy, then: go fuck yourself.”

“Tohya… buddy…”

“You’re a joke, you know that? Your mind really was preserved – you sound like every edgy teen I’ve ever heard in my life. This ‘hollow’ bullshit ain’t fooling anyone, buddy. You’ve mistaken it with ‘shallowness.’ No wonder it was so easy for me to emerge the way I did. There was practically nothing to really take over but your disgusting little thoughts. This whole thing about killing me? It’s not happening. I’ve been here for decades – longer than your entire existence. You think it’ll be as easy as taking away my legs? ‘Buddy,’ I don’t think you’ve noticed, but I’ve been without legs for a long time. Thanks for the stretch, though.”

“She’s dead, Tohya.”

“So what? I’d rather be haunted by the sight of her corpse than stay here, haunted by the corpses you’ll inevitably create.”

“I’ll bury you at the bottom of this lake.”

I laugh. “You stupid asshole. Haven’t you read the Divine Comedy? Even further down, through the low of all lows—”

I jump at him, wrapping my hands around his neck.

“—Is the path to Heaven!”