Unhappy End

In the book's final chapter, Ian is still dangerously obsessed and, whether or not he realizes it, he himself is also unraveling.

I looked around the room that seemed much tinier than it had when I first walked into it. I called the police and reported the two deaths. They had a lot of questions, and I told them everything I knew. The whole story. Starting with, "Who was Gabriel Watson?"

Frank Butler was arrested for failure to report supposed manslaughter. Jack Anderson was given a much longer sentence for attempted homicide. Rachel's elderly mother was arrested for assisting Toby's kidnapping. Ruthie and Toby were put into a nursing home.

But after I'd come this far, after all the damage I'd done, I wanted to know the reasons for the strange behavior Gabe had exhibited. Why did he leave what he left and take what he took? Why did he write on the walls? Why did he leave the faceless pictures? Why, after hearing Toby's name, did he feel the need to die?

I'd learned that Eleanor had also committed suicide. I guessed, from the context of the coded writing I now understood, that words written in red meant the opposite of the normal meaning. So if infested meant dead, then Gabe knew that Toby was alive. That made his suicide even more confusing.

But there were only five people who knew what the code meant. Three of them were dead and the other two, in prison. The answers would not be easy to find, by any means. But I had to find them. I couldn't let everything I'd done be in vain.

My entire life now revolves around the mystery of the Maniacal Song. I devoted all my time to solving it. Too much time, evidently, as I lost my job and, eventually, my house. But I still haven't given up. I won't. Ever. I'm still searching, and answers seem far away. I knew now that Dr. Benson had been right. My obsession was undeniably unhealthy. But I didn't care.

Because there's Beauty in a Dying Light. And I'd seen three lights go out in one day. It was enough horror and beauty to inspire anyone, and I wasn't just anyone.

I knew that if I continued, then I too would have an Unhappy End. But it didn't matter anymore. The fear I'd seen on Ruthie's face was devastating. The smile on Rachel's face was chilling. But the thing that haunted me was the bloodlust In Her Eyes.

My obsession is becoming more than just unhealthy. It's becoming lethal. If I'm going to stay this hyper-focused on Gabe, I will inevitably end up Infested. But if that means knowing all of the answers, then that's fine with me. The thing that concerns me is that I may die before, without them.

I plead for answers and pray that if I ponder it long enough, they'll magically come to me. But I'm getting pathetic. Yesterday I had a half-eaten hamburger for dinner that I'd found in a trash can because, for whatever reason, nobody was feeling generous enough to give me more than loose change.

Today, the garbage truck came and the trash was taken out. I'm hungry. Thirsty. Tired. Uncomfortable. But still, the most pressing feeling is curiosity.

Finally, I found somebody who says he has the answers I'm looking for. He told me I could have them if I gave him all my money. I told him I had five thousand dollars saved up in my house. Now I'm just praying that he tells me before he finds out I'm lying.

I use my spare key to my old house and sneak in when I'm pretty sure nobody's home. The man follows me inside. I notice that there's new wall paper covering up the writing, and everything Gabe had left was gone now. I find the safe and tell the man to tell me what he knows if he wants me to open it.

He pulls a gun on me and says, "I don't know jack s**t. Open the safe."

I run at the open door behind me and-