“Kayden,” Jillian said.

“No,” he whispered, shook his head. She is gone, Kayden knew, and no dream or nightmare could resurrect her.

“Kayden, look at me,” she pleaded, though tone soft.

“Please,” he begged, “my Jillian was no monster.”

“I need you,” she said, and tears welled.

He opened his eyes. The snow covered trailer park was gone. Again, Kayden was at the stair’s bottom, which leads up Lear Mountain. Rays of light pierced the creepers above the long steps. They rained down upon Jillian, who looked down at him. Years of drug abuse had cleared, and again, she was a healthy weight. Indeed, he saw his ex-wife was in much better state than him.

“Jillian,” he breathed.

“It’s me,” she smiled. “I’m the one, that doesn’t want you to be punished for everything outside your control.”

“I…can’t believe you’re gone,” he studied her face. Kayden had prayed to see her healthy once more. Tears rolled down, but he dared not close his eyes.

“I am,” she nodded, but her eyes ascended the stairs. “Now, it is time to go.” Jillian’s smile was weak, and she shivered. Tears spilled.

He opened his mouth, but then closed it. His eyes went up the stairs. A light burned at the top, though it seemed far away. “Where does it lead?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” she extended a hand to him. “Please, come with me Kayden. I don’t want to go alone.” Jillian trembled, “I’m scared.”

“Is it the end?” he asked, but took her hand. Kayden opened his mouth to ask what would come next, but he pressed his lips back together. “We’ll find out together.”

They moved, though he was the first to place a foot. The smell of rain lingered, as if a great storm had passed. About the stone steps the gentle perfume of flowers remained. Kayden rubbed his chest, felt the ache had left. Clear air held hints of fresh water. A slight breeze breathed through the canopy of creepers above. Both were silent for a while.

Kayden glanced at her, “I had forgotten about Andre.” His face flushed at the confession.

“We bury things, so we can go on living,” Jillian looked at him. “You were always especially bad to do that. I only ever got up the courage to ask once.”

He blinked, “Yes, I recall.” Away his eyes drifted, “Isaac killed him.”

“I’d heard stories. I’d heard that he had run away, like your mother.” She studied the stairs, “Some people said your father was a killer, and you…were poisoned Blood.”

Kayden felt warmth spread across his face. “All of Hemlock Hurst, heck Lear County, never let the sins of your family go,” he muttered.

“You were just a kid,” she watched him.

“I think my father killed my Mother too,” he said, though the words were distant.

“Oh my God,” Jillian looked at him.

He glanced back, “I never saw it…like my brother.”

“I’m sorry, Honey,” she breathed.

They ascended, though again, it was in silence for a while. Kayden smiled; though felt the muscles were unaccustomed to the act. He stretched his shoulders. Jillian smiled.

“You seem looser,” she smiled.

He returned the smile, though it faded, “I know you’re gone. And, maybe, you’re probably just a memory of her, but—”

“What is it?” she asked, when his grew silent.

“You know I tried to save you,” he muttered, face reddened, “and I never intended for you to hurt your back. If you had never gotten injured, then you’d never gotten hooked on that junk.”

Jillian nodded, “I know. I never held you responsible, but you did. All that was a twist of fate, life just happens.”

“You never deserved to suffer like that,” he shook his head.

“And, you never deserved the suffering you put yourself through,” she countered. “I gave up. I didn’t want help. When I robbed you, I wanted to make sure you never came back.”

“Why,” he turned to her.

“So you can be happy,” she frowned at him. “Kayden, Baby, you were miserable. I couldn’t even remember the last time you were happy.”

“It wasn’t you—”

“Yes, yes it was,” she pulled him to a stop. “It was me, the Plant, and all of life here. The ghosts of you father, mother, and brother haunted you. All of it chipped away at you, and it was torture to watch.”

“I…I loved you,” he looked down at the stairs, “and the only time I was happy was with you.”

“Look at me, Kayden,” Jillian smiled. He looked at her. “I’m gone, so you can find happiness again.”

“I will let you go…one day,” his smile was weak, but he moved again up the stairs. Kayden wiped away tears.

“When you can,” she smiled, “I promise you’ll feel better.”

He turned back to the light, which had grown brighter. It washed over him. Jillian’s hand faded in his. “I love you,” he said.

“I love you,” she returned.

Kayden turned to her, but the world had shifted. He frowned, for now he sat instead of standing. The window was filthy, but the moonlight still slipped through in places. He looked at the wheel, and then to the radio. This time, it was silent.

“Mister Stone,” a man said, patient but curious.

Kayden jerked, and pulled back from the passenger. “Who are you?!”

“That has no importance,” he smiled, pale eyes studied him, “at least, for the moment.” He pulled the jacket open, so Kayden could see the musket’s butt. “You’re awake, Mister Stone,” he rested a book on his leg. “I have been waiting. There for a while, I thought you wouldn’t make it.”

“What do you mean?” he saw a book, much like the stranger’s tome, on his leg.

“You took a pill, HPL-0717,” he nodded. “It is also called Figment. Although, I cannot understand, why anyone would do something so stupid as to take a strange medicine?” The older gentleman smiled but shook his head.

“That was real,” he frowned. “I thought it was a candy with a weird advertisement. I just took it. I just lost…my Jillian.”

“Yes,” he nodded. “Afterwards, you infected others with what was inside you.” The old man eyes were so pale, that they were nearly white. They watched him. “You caused a lot of chaos, and people have also died.”

“I didn’t mean to hurt anyone,” Kayden shook his head.

“Regardless,” he waved off his words, “people died, because of your actions” The gentleman withdrew he strange, elaborate musket pistol. “If you lost in your Dream Land, I would have liquefied you. I still may retire you.”

“Why don’t you?” he blinked at the eldritch sigils on it.

“When you were asleep?” he studied the weapon. “You talked, Mister Stone, you spoke about a great number of things.”

“I don’t know what you heard,” Kayden snapped. “I don’t—”

“You’re intelligent,” the gentleman cut him off. “You’re also a fool. I asked around town. I spoke to a lot of people.” He returned the musket to its holster. “An intelligent, loyal, and dogged man, such as you, could be a real asset. Your resolve is admirable.”

“This is insane!” Kayden wiped his brow.

“This is the truth behind the world,” he opened the door. “You’ll want to keep that book,” he gestured at the tome on Kayden’s leg.

“What do I do?” he asked, but the older gentleman stepped out.

He turned back, and leaned back in to look at him. “That is entirely up to you, Mister Stone,” he smiled. “All the truths, mundane and insane, are yours to unearth.” The old man closed the door to Hooper’s Cherry.