Asylum of Darkness Page #6

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- Well, that's the end

of me

as far as the world is

concerned.

Only I know that it's Finch

who's being buried for good.

I never thought I'd be the only

mourner

at my own funeral.

Was she my sister?

A friend?

Maybe even a wife or daughter?

I can't remember.

But it was harder to be happy

about my supposed death

knowing I'd left someone behind

and alone.

The two worst things you can be.

- I woke up feeling foggy.

I don't remember,

did we have a fight or

something?

- No, nothing like that.

- I still feel groggy.

What's wrong with me?

- Not a thing.

- Who are you now?

Finch the cheat?

The manipulator?

- He's dead.

I'll live his life my own way.

- Dwight stroud's way?

Then you still have to

know why you went insane.

- That doesn't matter.

It's different now.

- Well, if you're sane now, why

am I here?

- Who are you talking to?

I thought I saw a shadow out

there.

- No, I was just talking in my

sleep.

Where are you going?

- Bathroom.

- Where are you going now?

- Relax, goin' to the

kitchen to get somethin'

to settle my stomach.

Ugh, it's too hard.

I'll have to use a knife

to get the rest of it out.

It's for you, Dwight.

It's for you.

You left the ice cream out last

night.

Melted all over.

- Hello?

- Yeah, hello.

- Is that you Mr. Finch?

- Yes, yes, sure.

- Okay, great.

You're speaking to our

company meeting today.

- I am?

Okay.

- We wondered if you could

be here a little later than we

planned.

- Uh, I can be there in an hour.

- That was the

old time.

How 'bout right after lunch, two

pm.

- Sure, great.

And that's my recipe for

success.

- That's very interesting, Mr.

Finch.

But I had some questions

about your accounting formula.

For market research.

- Formula?

- I'd like you to just take us

through

some computations, one to one,

like you did the last time you

were here.

- The last time.

You mean, the old days.

Right, um, sure.

Let me find a good example.

Here.

There we go.

Now.

- Good recovery, Dwight.

Finch is dead now.

You're really on your own.

But I have faith in you.

Shh.

- Right.

So

here's an equation.

As you'd usually see it.

- Is there anything wrong?

- We know math is.

Just

a tool.

What you can do is use that

to succeed.

Anyone can fudge around.

With numbers.

What do I have

to do to be rid of you?

- Just become sane.

Sorry.

You know, though you weren't

listening at your funeral,

I was.

Though it's commonly

believed that when we die

we go immediately to heaven or

hell,

that really doesn't

happen until judgment day.

Till then, we're all trapped.

- He's trapped in his body.

I'll, I'll destroy the body in

the grave.

Is that the answer?

- Did you say destroy

the body in the grave?

- No.

Slip of the tongue.

So if there are no other

questions,

I'll be leaving.

- Well, if he thinks

I'm gonna pay good money

for that load of double talk,

he's completely out of his

f***ing mind.

- Is it really you?

- Oh, I, look, I, I'm sorry

what happened at the gallery.

I had to pretend I didn't know

you

so no one else would know.

- Look, I understand you

want to live your life

free of the past, that's,

that's all I wanna be able to

do.

What's buried there beneath

my name still haunts me.

- I heard you died and came

here to pay my respects.

- I came here to destroy

it in order to be free.

I see you over there, doc.

Don't worry, you can't see him.

He's only in my mind.

- You're right, I'm not the

one you have to worry about.

- Hi, uh, this is Mrs. Finch

again.

What time did you say my husband

left?

- I don't know,

hours ago?

Look, I'm busy, I, I gotta go.

- I see you standing there.

You've been standing here

staring at me

for over an hour.

Who are you, what do you want?

- If you love your husband,

you'll follow me.

I'm Mrs. Dwight stroud.

I'll show you.

I'll be as gentle as possible.

What's yours will soon be mine.

As it should be.

This is where Dwight and I lived

when we were first married.

The neighborhood wasn't great

then

but better than what's left of

it now.

- I don't believe you.

- Really?

I'll show you.

- Gimme the pick.

- Why do you need the

lid off?

- You and I see things in the

same way.

I need you to see it, too.

Gimme a hand.

Look down there.

Is that me?

- No.

- Really?

There must be no trace of him

left.

- That's not my husband.

- Look closer.

- What's the point?

If you have the power to lead me

here,

you can probably make me

see whatever you want.

- Mm, but you can't

dismiss your own feelings.

Haven't you noticed recently

your husband's been kinder,

more gentle lately?

It's because he's not your

husband.

He's mine.

Come with me upstairs and I'll

prove it.

Dwight and I, we're not

who you think we are.

We're fluid.

We can fill whatever body

our emotions shape us into.

I need to empty you out.

So I can refill us.

- He knows he's still not free.

- Yeah, that's right, he doesn't

know.

He doesn't know at all.

- Goodbye, Dwight.

You won't see me anymore,

you're beyond listening to me.

If you do get free of Finch,

then you'll be truly alone

because his personality is

the only sanity you have left.

- I saw you talkin' to him.

No sense pretending he's

not real, he's in my mind.

- Well I'm glad the pretense is

over.

I'll tell you what I know.

- I know you're not what you

seem.

You tore your eyes out the night

i escaped

and now you have eyes.

When I saw you at the gallery,

you acted like you

didn't know me at first.

You look like Van gogh,

just like I look like Finch,

but who are you really?

- It's all true.

Only when we touch that

i see you as Dwight.

Your soul in his body,

his trapped in yours.

We see the real faces behind

these masks.

- If Finch's soul is trapped in

my body,

they both are destroyed,

but I'm still crazy,

I'm still not free.

- That's right, Dwight.

There's a big piece of the

puzzle missin',

and you're standin' on it.

- I, I, I escaped.

But those faceless things

i saw, they were real?

- Not only were they real,

they still are.

We're still here.

Don't worry, Dwight, they're

too stupid to do anything.

We're all waiting for judgment

day.

Well, a few of us got tired of

waiting.

Three of us saw you pathetic,

mindless creatures up there

and decided to live through you.

We ate away what was left of

your souls

or minds, if you prefer,

and took over your live bodies

as our own.

Finch was taken over first

so they would leave the

hospital.

Then it was your former wife

turned to inhabit a life.

I took the painter.

You aren't free of what you knew

as Finch

because what you destroyed

was just some dirty clothing

that his soul had been wearin'.

You've driven him back

into his own corpse.

They are glass.

I don't need eyes to see.

- There's no spirit above this

grave

because it's trapped underneath.

- What insane thing are you

doin' now?

- Don't give me that insanity

crap.

I believe what the real Van gogh

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