Page 119 of Lovely Darkness

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Don’t want to answer? Fine. I’ll tell you. That’s why I’m here. That’s the only reason I’m here, Donovan. The truth. That’s the cure. That’s the cure for all of them. For everything. It’s just that simple. The truth.

What truth?

Pedigrees. That’s what was in the book. Remember?

Yes. But—

Shut up. I’m not done yet. You grew up the grandson of one of the most evil men to ever live.

That’s not true—

The fuck it’s not! Does the word ‘hunt’ mean anything to you, Donny? Come on, now. They hunt babies on that island. Babies.

No.

You were there, Donovan.

No. That was Carter—

You made that up. Don’t you see it?

Of course. My second personality—

There is no second, Donny. It’s just you. That’s the hardest thing about this illness, isn’t it? Admitting that it was just… all… you.

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Listening now?

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I’ll take that as a yes. Good. Because we’ve got a lot to talk about and only about thirty seconds of real time to do it. I’m sorry, but I have to be blunt. I can’t risk the procedure they have planned.

This makes no sense. If you’re not real, if you’re me, then why are you talking like you’re someone else? Why are you calling yourself ‘I?’ Why are you calling me ‘you?’

Semantics. Who cares. The truth, Donny. The cure is the truth. And you’re about to get a massive dose of it. Let’s start with Santa Barbara, shall we?

What about it?

Don’t you find it convenient that your father died when you were only ten and that Adam’s father was killed as well? And don’t explain it away, OK? The time for excuses is long gone. Adam helped Sasha plan that massacre. And you knew about it. Who told you about it, Donny? Don’t worry, I’m not waiting around for your answers. Your brainwashing was so thorough and so complete, there is only way out of your self-inflicted cognitive dissonance. Ding, ding, ding! Correct! It was Grandpa Gerald. What a guy!

He killed Father?

Oh, don’t worry. That old man got what he deserved. We made sure of it.

And you say ‘we’—

Yeah. I mean you.

What did I do?

Later. Good old Gramps isn’t the important part of this story. He’s just how it started. I mean, he had his own son to experiment on. Your father. But there was a little too much rebel inside him, wasn’t there? He didn’t follow the path that was laid out for him, did he? But you, dear Donovan. That IQ of yours. That brain. It’s the kind of smart that comes once every… hell. Three, four, five generations? He couldn’t let you go to waste.

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Thinking?