End of days 8
From this bench facing away from the hospital, the perimeter wall is hidden by trees. I come here to watch the birds and forget my confinement for a short while.
I think it must be about six months. I hate the way the medication slows my thoughts and stops my mouth opening properly, but they’re reducing it now that the rages have subsided.
They told me everything – the break-in, your murder, my coming home and finding you there. They say I have a ‘fugue state’ which is when the brain blocks out what it can’t cope with. But it doesn’t help; no memories return – just walking back from work and the cracks opening up in the ground and not being able to find you. I haven’t told them about the army or the demons – it would only mean more medication.
About a month ago they brought in a man I recognised. He called me ‘Captain’ and asked whether we’d surrendered and where the rest were. I just looked at him blankly and I think they moved him the next day.
As I gaze at the ground, a tiny wisp of black smoke emerges in the form of a horned figure.