Love in Darkness (Castles on the Sand 2)

One

“Take over the other one,” one of the louder voices says with a snarl.

Oh no. That is not good. Not good at all.

Elder Ito’s eyes change from brown to a swirling blue as a foreign consciousness jams itself into his brain. “Elder Katsumoto, calm down,” he orders me, his voice all flat and off.

The train is the only way out? No. There isn’t enough time to wait for it. I break away from him and shove my way through the crowd, on my way to the exit.

“Hey,” he shouts. Only it isn’t him. I know it isn’t.

The train arrives with a clatter and a screech and I change course to get aboard, shoving more people aside.

“He’s getting on the train,” says one of the voices.

“Then he goes with them.”

“He’d better hang on.”

I dive through the door of the carriage, grab the overhead rail, and hang on for dear life. The train shoots out of the station and I sense it picking up more and more speed. Only now it occurs to me to wonder, if I gave away that I could hear them.

“Excuse me,” says a diminutive lady next to me. “Are you all right?”

Now the voices are taking over the people around me to try to get me to talk, to admit that I know they exist and can overhear their conversations.

“Sir,” says someone else.

And then, I feel it coming like a shockwave. “Earthquake!” I shout. “It’s coming. We’re going to be crushed!”

The crowd around me explodes with a cacophony of voices. I feel someone grab my wrist and I flail to get away. Someone’s dimmed the lights in the train and it’s hard to see. I fight my way towards the door, but a hundred unseen hands pull me down. I sense the train shoot through the next station, and the next. I sense that it’s building up enough speed to launch from the end of its tracks into space. At least I’ve managed to leave Elder Ito behind.

A hand closes on the back of my neck, and the world goes dark.

I

 come to in a narrow cot in a plain, white hospital room that smells like hand soap and detergent. There are voices out in the hallway, but I don’t bother to try to eavesdrop. I’m too wrung out for that. I’m not sure how I got here or which hospital this is, but for now I feel safe. I lift a hand to scratch my nose and find it tied down to the cot. Both hands are, and a rush of despair floods through me.

“Hey!” I shout. “Let me go.”

The door opens inward like an explosion and a woman wearing scrubs strides in. “Alexander Katsumoto,” she says, “you’re experiencing psychosis. Do you understand? What you see and hear isn’t real. We’re keeping you here for your own safety. You won’t be hurt.”

“Lies,” says one of the voices. “You see how they lie?”

“Let me go,” I repeat.

“We can’t do that. I’m sorry. Try to relax. You’ve been medicated.”

W

ithin hours, I can’t eavesdrop on the voices anymore. I’ve lost my special power.

B

y the middle of the next day, I understand that there is something seriously wrong with me, and I need to stay in this facility. I am given pills which I take. It’s important to take the pills. I know this.