A/N: And finally, the proverbial hits the fan. Now the fun can really begin...

The first thing to go through Elliot’s mind the next morning as he came slowly back to awareness was the putrid smell that assailed his nostrils. He groaned aloud, and his stomach churned unpleasantly as his mind likened the smell to that of decomp.

Crap, he though dimly. We shouldn’t have gone to sleep and left the food out.

With some reluctance, he pried his eyes open, bracing himself in anticipation of what he would see. He guessed from the smell that some animal had gotten in while they slept, and had perhaps defecated in the midst of the leftovers. An animal, he told himself sleepily, that had a very, very bad case of diarrhoea. When he did manage to get his eyes open, though, the sight that met him was far worse than anything he could have anticipated.

The seconds ticked slowly by, and Elliot sat frozen, his voice muted in his throat. Gradually, he became conscious of other sounds around him – the sound of his two companions beginning to stir. Before he could recover from his own shock, and say something to warn them, Mike woke up.

“Damn,” Mike groaned. “What in the love of God is that smell? Did some friggin’ animal get in…? Fuck!”

His shouted expletive served to startle Bobby back into full awareness who, in turn, uttered a similar expletive.

Sitting on the table, squarely in the middle of the left-over food, was a woman’s head. It was well into the advanced stages of decomposition, and emitted a foul stench that had the stomachs of all three men churning.

“I… I think I’m gonna be sick,” Mike mumbled, and a moment later he lunged to his feet and fled outside to throw up. Elliot was close behind him. Bobby, however, barely noticed them go. Overcoming his initial shock, he sat forward on the sofa to get a closer look.

He had no way of knowing for certain just how long the unfortunate victim had been dead, except to say that it had been a while, judging by the level of decomp. The most intriguing part, though, were the eyes. Or rather, the lack of them. The head had none. Also – and he supposed it could have been a coincidence, but he doubted it – the head had been placed on the table so that it was directly facing Elliot.

He heard the cabin door open, and looked around as Mike and Elliot came back in. Both men were a little on the pale side, but otherwise seemed all right.

“We have a problem,” Bobby stated quietly.

“Thankyou, Captain Obvious,” Mike retorted. “What I want to know is where in the hell did it come from? And who left it here? And why?”

“Elliot?” Bobby asked softly, noting the almost sorrowful way that Elliot seemed to be regarding the head. “Do you know something about this?”

Mike turned to look at Elliot, who by then had turned an unappealing shade of grey.

“Her name was Sarah Emerson,” he said finally, hoarsely. “She was Darius Blake’s first victim.”

“Darius Blake?” Bobby echoed with a frown. “The Riverside Rapist?”

“That’s the one,” Elliot confirmed. “He… He took the eyes of the victims for souvenirs… but we never found Sarah’s body. The only evidence we found to prove that she was Blake’s first victim were when we found the… the freezer in the attic of his home. That… that was where he kept the eyes.”

“Crap,” Mike muttered. “So, how did this get here?”

“Blake was convicted,” Bobby said, and Elliot nodded in confirmation.

“Fourteen consecutive life sentences, one for each victim. He’s never supposed to be released.”

“Maybe he had an accomplice,” Mike suggested. “But, then… how the fuck did they find us up here?”

“I might have left a note for Olivia,” Elliot told them uncomfortably. “I stopped off at her place on my way to meet you guys, and put it in her mail slot. If it is Blake, and he went to Olivia’s place, it wouldn’t have taken him much to find it. I’m sorry…”

“Don’t apologise for doing the sensible thing, and making an effort to let someone know where you went,” Bobby told him. “Let’s just work out what to do.”

“I can tell you what we won’t be doing,” Mike said grimly, “and that’s phoning for help. My cell phone is dead. I’ve got no signal at all.”

“None of us will,” Bobby said. “And we don’t have a satellite phone. We’re going to have to drive, at least to the nearest town. But first… Mike, can you find us some cling wrap? We need to preserve this for evidence.”

Grimacing, and muttering something under his breath about CSU dirty work and air freshener, Mike disappeared off to the kitchen. Once he’d gone, Bobby looked back at Elliot.

“Care to tell me why you suddenly look terrified?” Bobby asked in a low voice. Any other time, Elliot might have taken offence to the suggestion that he was scared. Now, though, he could only shudder and sink into one of the chairs.

“Blake… He’s a nasty piece of work, and I really do mean nasty. He’s a genuine sadist. He enjoys inflicting pain on people. When Liv and I first started investigating the killings, it was just rape and murder by stabbing. That was bad enough, but then he escalated. He escalated fast. The third victim we found had been physically tortured as well as raped, and it got progressively worse each time.”

“And the eyes?” Bobby queried.

“Trophies,” Elliot confirmed. “The sick son of a bitch had them all laid out in the freezer in his attack. The first four victims, the eyes were removed post-mortem. But the fifth… by the fifth, he was taking the eyes out before they were dead.”

“We heard some of the details over at Major Case,” Bobby murmured, “but not about the eyes. Were you getting a lot of people trying to claim responsibility?”

“At least two or three every damn day,” Elliot answered. “And the worst part there was that we had to treat each of them seriously, just in case they were the real deal. Goddamn waste of time.”

“None of us at Major Case envied SVU for catching that one.”

Elliot nodded.

“I heard that a lot.”

“So how did you nail him in the end?”

“We set a trap. Liv volunteered to be the bait. Except…”

“It backfired?”

“Yeah. He smelled the trap a mile off, but instead avoiding it, he turned it against us. He snatched Liv, right out from under our noses. God, I just about went insane, not knowing where she was, or what was happening to her.”

Bobby nodded in sympathetic understanding, his thoughts going back briefly to the Gage case some months back. He had felt exactly the same way, not knowing where Alex was, or whether she was even still alive. Elliot went on in a subdued tone as he allowed his mind to slip back to unwanted memories.

“Blake held her for nearly two days before sending me a message. It told me where to go if I wanted Liv back, alive and in one piece, and to go alone. I did, but I left a message that I knew the others would find before too long. I met Blake, and he blindfolded me and took me to where he was holding Liv.”

“Was she badly hurt?” Bobby asked, and Elliot smiled a very bitter smile.

“She didn’t have a scratch on her. He hadn’t touched her at all, except to tie her up. Son of a bitch even fed her three times a day. I asked him what he was playing at… Don’t get me wrong, I was grateful he hadn’t touched her, but I didn’t get it, either. Liv matched the profile of the women he preferred. You know, tall, dark and beautiful? Anyway, that was when Blake said he’d decided he wanted something different that time around.”

“You?” Bobby inquired, and Elliot answered with a quick nod.

“Yeah.” He drew in a long, unsteady breath. “Our guys were only a couple of hours behind us, but god, that was the longest two hours of my life. And… Blake was just getting ready to take my eyes Fin and Munch got there. If they’d been just a minute or two later, I don’t think I’d be here now. As it was, I was in the hospital for two and a half weeks after that, and it was a full two months before I was cleared for active duty again.”

“Elliot,” Bobby said tensely, “if it is Blake here, now…”

Elliot regarded Bobby with a grim, haunted stare.

“If it is him, then we are all in some seriously deep shit.”

“Hey, Robert,” Mike’s voice reached them from the kitchen. “Where the fuck is the cling wrap? I can’t find it!”

Elliot sighed and started up.

“I’ll go…”

“No,” Bobby said in a suddenly tense voice. “Elliot, did you bring your gun with you?”

“No, I didn’t. Why?”

“Here…” He pulled a key ring from his pocket, to which were attached four different keys. “This one opens the lock box in the closet in the bedroom you took. There’s a gun that I know Deakins keeps in there strictly for emergencies. Go and get it, now. Then get your ass outside and find some cover somewhere nearby.”


“He called me Robert, Elliot. Something’s wrong in there. Now go! Do as I tell you, please!”

Elliot tried one last time to argue.

“C’mon, man, don’t…”

He grunted as Bobby grabbed him by his shirt collar and shoved him hard in the direction of the downstairs bedroom.

“If what you’ve said is for real, then you’re this guy’s prime target. Mike and I will be okay. You just get outside, and stay safe. Go!”

Elliot stared at Bobby for just a moment longer before nodding and hurrying off to do as he’d been instructed. Bobby waited only a moment longer, and then turned and headed slowly for the kitchen, and whatever grim fate awaited him there.

Bobby knew the instant he walked into the kitchen that Blake was waiting for him behind the door. The knowledge gave him no advantage, though – the instant he was through the door, he felt the cold metal of a shotgun barrel at the back of his head.

“That’s very original,” Bobby commented wryly. “Hiding behind the door like that.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Blake retorted. “Over there, pig. Go join your buddy.”

Bobby walked slowly over to stand beside Mike. Blake nodded his approval, and then indicated the door.

“Now, call Elliot.”

“I can’t do that,” Bobby answered in a deceptively calm tone. The first flushes of anger appeared on Blake’s face.

“What do you mean, you can’t? You call that fucking pig, and get him in here now, or I’m going to put a nice big hole in this other pig’s head.”

“I can’t do that,” Bobby repeated patiently, “because I sent Elliot out of the cabin before coming in here.”

Blake was silent, staring at Bobby as though he wasn’t sure whether to believe him.

“You’re lying,” he accused finally. “He’s here, and you’re gonna call him.”

Bobby shook his head.

“No, he’s not. Go and see for yourself.”

“You son of a bitch!” Blake exploded. And, doing exactly what Bobby had counted on him doing, Blake turned his back on them to go after Elliot.

Mike and Bobby moved at the same instant, charging across the kitchen floor. Blake heard them coming and spun around to meet them. The shotgun roared, and Mike’s feet skidded under him as the buckshot caught him in the side. He went down with a crash, and Bobby was brought up equally short when Blake swung the weapon around to confront him.

“Fucking pigs,” he spat, advancing on Bobby menacingly. For a long moment, the two men stood staring at each other. Then, without warning, Blake lifted the gun and struck Bobby across the temple with it. He collapsed to the floor with a painful thud, stunned beyond response. Blake looked down on them with a hateful sneer.

“I’m going to go get Elliot now, but I’ll be back for you two. Do yourselves a favour, and make it easy on yourselves. Stay here, and don't move. Don’t make me have to hunt you down.”

And then he was gone, leaving the brothers alone.

Elliot fled to the bedroom without a backward glance, grateful to have a set order to follow. Not that he was incapable of thinking for himself – far from it – but the memories of his last encounter with Blake were enough on their own to cause the reasoning side of his brain to threaten to shut down. The thought of coming face to face with Blake again was more than enough to paralyse him with fear.

He threw open the closet doors and quickly opened the lock box. Sure enough, there was a gun in there, as Bobby had said. He grabbed at the box of cartridges that accompanied the weapon, only to be filled with dismay. The cartridges were only blanks, and would give him no protection against the likes of Blake. Clearly, the weapon was intended only for frightening off animals, and he had no delusions about its ability to frighten off the animal now hunting him and his friends.

Leaving the useless weapon behind, Elliot fled the cabin.

His first instinct was to go to the car and get it started for a fast get-away as soon as Bobby and Mike got out. Those hopes were crushed as he approached the vehicle to discover all four tires had been slashed.

“Fuck,” he whispered, looking around in growing distress. He was trying to decide what to do when the explosive sound of a shotgun being fired shattered the otherwise quiet morning. Heart in his throat, Elliot abandoned all thoughts of the car, and ran for cover.

“Ah… Shit…”

Mike groaned aloud as a burning pain seared through his side. A glance down at the injury told him it wasn’t serious – just enough so to hurt like hell. Grimacing, he turned his attention to his brother, who lay slumped on the floor nearby. There appeared to be no blood where Bobby had been struck, but even from where he lay Mike could see the monstrous welt coming up on the side of Bobby’s face.

“Hey, Bobby…” Mike croaked out. “You alive?”

“Unfortunately,” Bobby answered with a soft moan. Then, slowly, Bobby’s head came up and he looked around blearily.

“Where is he? Where’s Blake?”

“Gone… After Elliot,” Mike told him. “You think he really did run, like you told him?”

“I hope so.”

“Because you know what kind of a cop he is. He wouldn’t just take off and leave us here. You know he wouldn’t.”

“He’d better,” Bobby growled, “because Blake doesn’t give a damn about us. If he did, he wouldn’t have just left us here like this, where we could get away. He came specifically for Elliot, and if Elliot comes back with some warped idea that he’s going to save our asses, then we might just all be dead men.”

It took Blake less than a minute to discover Bobby had been telling him the truth. He came out into the living area of the cabin, and was just heading towards the bedroom when he saw him. Elliot stood outside, by the car, observing the slashed tires with obvious dismay.

Any other time, Blake would have taken pleasure in the distress of his prey, but he was cold, tired and beyond frustrated. He had anticipated a quick catch and kill – all he really wanted were the SVU detective’s eyes, after all. Now, it seemed he was going to have to chase the son of a bitch down.

Damn, he was starting to wish that he had just taken all three of them out in the night, instead of trying to be clever.

Loosing a howl of frustrated rage, as much at himself as at Elliot, Blake took off after his intended victim.

Elliot bolted into the trees, not daring to look back. He hoped and prayed that Bobby and Mike were okay, but the fact that Blake was hot on his tail now did not bode well. If he could just throw Blake off, he thought wildly, then he’d be able to circle back and go and find his companions. If, he reminded himself grimly.


He heard Blake roar somewhere behind him, and the rage in the man’s voice spurred him to move faster still.

Elliot! Don’t you make me hunt you down!

“Fuck you,” Elliot rasped under his breath as he plunged on through the thick undergrowth. He couldn’t run forever, though, and his knowledge of the area was slender at best. Somehow, he needed to shake the psychopath on his tail so that he could go back for his friends.

And then he saw it. A huge tree, thick with foliage that could provide him with cover. Risking a brief glance back to ensure that Blake had not yet caught up to him, Elliot pulled himself up into the tree, and out of sight.

Blake crashed through the trees, his focus exclusively on his prey. He was so close, he could almost taste it, and it drove him mad with rage and a sadistic hunger. It was true, when he’d grabbed the female detective that time, he had originally planned on having her, until he saw the way that Elliot had reacted to her disappearance. He’d spent that first twenty-four hours watching Elliot closely, captivated by everything about the detective. By the time he sent Elliot the message, telling him what to do in order to ensure his partner’s safe return, Blake had changed his plans. He no longer wanted the woman. He wanted Elliot.

Those few hours he’d had with Elliot had been the best yet of any of his victims, and he still seethed at the interruption that had seen Elliot ripped from his hands right before he’d been able to claim his trophy in the man’s brilliant, sapphire eyes. The long hours in prison had been torture, as his mind was consumed with a burning desire to possess what had been so cruelly taken away from him.

When the opportunity to escape had come up, he’d grabbed at it with both hands, and his pursuit of Elliot had paid off on finding the note explaining where he’d gone, with whom, and for how long. The drive to the Catskills had been one of burning expectancy. He couldn’t wait to look into the detective’s eyes once more, and see the despair when he realised that no one was coming to save him this time.

Blake slowed to a halt, looking around in rapidly increasing frustration. Only moments before, he’d been able to hear Elliot crashing through the trees not too far ahead of him. Now, there was nothing, which told him the detective had gone to ground somewhere. The question was, where?

“C’mon out, Elliot,” Blake murmured, knowing full well that he’d get no such cooperation. “It won’t hurt. And, if you come out now, I’ll let your buddies live. C’mon, be a good boy…”

Almost directly above where Blake was standing right at that moment, Elliot clasped a hand tightly over his own mouth, desperate that not even his breathing should give him away. He could barely make out Blake through the heavy foliage, and so felt reasonably confident that if Blake happened to look up, he wouldn’t be able to see him either. But he dared not move for fear that it would give him away.

Slowly, Blake’s attention went up, to the tree branches that rose high above his head. It was possible… Hell, it was more than possible that Elliot had gone up a tree, but he had no intention of climbing every one of the fucking things just in case. He was no climber, and he hated trees with a passion. So, if Elliot was up one of them, then he was going to have to catch him another way.

For nearly a minute, Blake considered his options. Then, grinning cruelly, he turned and headed back the way he’d come.

Elliot watched breathlessly as Blake headed back in the direction from which they’d come, back towards the cabin, and his stomach lurched unpleasantly. Bobby and Mike…

Grimacing, he dropped from his hiding place in the branches, and took off through the trees in the opposite direction to which Blake had gone. He had to get back to the cabin before Blake did. His friends’ lives depended on it.

“Where the fuck are we going?” Mike asked wearily, holding a thick wad of gauze to his side and struggling to keep up with his younger brother as they headed along the dirt road as quickly as they could.

“We need transport,” Bobby answered. “Blake didn’t walk up here. He must have a car somewhere nearby. We need to find it, and move it so that it’s where we can access it quickly once we’ve found Elliot.”

“You assume he has a car,” Mike corrected. “What if he has a motorbike?”

“Then one of us gets to go for help while the other two hides,” Bobby said, in a tone of voice that told Mike that he was not at all happy with that scenario.

“God, I hope he brought a car,” Mike muttered.

They rounded the bend, and came to a halt. Sitting there, completely out of sight from the cabin, was a blue Ford sedan.

“Bobby, you’re a fucking genius, and I love you,” Mike told him fervently as Bobby strode over to look inside. “I just wanted you to know that.”

“Hold that thought, big brother,” Bobby muttered. “Because unless you know how to hotwire a car, we won't be going anywhere fast. It doesn’t look like Blake left the keys here.”

“Move over,” Mike urged him, and Bobby slid over to allow Mike to settle in behind the steering wheel. “Give me your knife. And if you ever tell my partner I know how to do this, I’ll throttle you.”

Bobby handed over his switchblade, and Mike pried open the compartment behind which lay the vehicle’s wiring. Within a matter of seconds, the engine had sputtered to life.

“Mikey, I love you,” Bobby said with a faint grin as Mike reversed the car carefully back down the narrow road. Mike smirked in response.

“Yeah, yeah. Tell me something I don’t know.”

Elliot reached the cabin, and made his way cautiously inside. All was quiet, but he dared not go rushing through in case Blake had beaten him back after all. He dared not even call out for Bobby and Mike. Praying that he wasn’t making a serious mistake, Elliot ventured through into the kitchen.


The expletive came out as barely more than a whisper as Elliot stared around the empty kitchen. The only evidence that either Bobby or Mike had been there was blood spatter against a bench, and a small pool on the floor. One of them, at least, was injured. He could only hope that it wasn’t serious.

There seemed to be no evidence that either man had been dragged from the room, meaning that they’d left under their own steam. Whether it had been just the two of them, or if it had been with Blake’s gun at their backs, he had no way of knowing.

Silently cursing himself for so willingly following Bobby directive to run, Elliot turned to head back through the house. Before he could go two steps, the kitchen door suddenly swung open, revealing Blake on the other side. He grinned maniacally at Elliot, who quickly reversed, away from the killer.

“Told you not to run,” Blake said, brandishing his knife with a flourish. “You only made it worse for yourself, Elliot.”

“Fuck you, Blake,” Elliot said hoarsely as he moved to put a wide bench between Blake and himself. “You’re not getting me, and you’re sure as hell not getting my eyes.”

“What makes you think you have a choice?”

Elliot glanced around briefly, searching for a weapon, and his assailant laughed cruelly.

“No one’s coming to rescue you, this time,” Blake taunted him. “If you’re looking for your buddies, they’re long gone. I heard them in my car on my way back here. They’ve left you all alone with me, Elliot. Gone, saved their own asses. You obviously don’t matter to them.”

Elliot felt his stomach drop at Blake’s words. As much as he didn’t want to believe what he was being told, part of it rang true. He was the interloper here. This had, after all, been meant as a get-away for Bobby and Mike, as brothers, and he’d spoilt it for them by gate-crashing. Was it really so hard to believe that they’d decided to look out for each other, and just leave him to Blake?

“That’s right,” Blake all but purred. “Let it sink in. They’re not coming back for you. It’s just you and me, and I’m not letting you get away from me this time.”

Elliot’s shoulders slumped as he realised how utterly trapped he was. Blake watched as the hope effectively drained from Elliot’s face. Then, he motioned to the door with the knife.

“C’mon, Elliot. We’re going to go for a little walk.”

Feeling sick and completely helpless, Elliot allowed himself to be herded out of the kitchen, and out of the cabin.

They walked in almost total silence, the only sounds to break it being the cruel chuckles that escaped Blake’s lips. Blake steered Elliot onto a nearby walking track, urging him to keep walking until they finally reached a small clearing.

“Here we are,” Blake murmured after ordering Elliot to stop. “Not exactly ideal, but it’ll do.”

Elliot turned around slowly to face his would-be killer, his heart in his throat as he stared down the barrel of the sawed-off shotgun in Darius Blake’s hands. He had no idea where Bobby and Mike were. For all he knew, they’d hightailed it out of there just like Blake had said, and he supposed he couldn’t blame them. Although, he felt more than a little bitter at the idea that they might have opted to save their own asses, and leave him for dead.

“Listen, Darius…”

“Go ahead, Elliot,” Blake sneered at him. “Beg for your miserable, pathetic life. Go on, I want you to. I want to hear you beg. Then, when you’re done begging, I’m going to have those beautiful blue eyes of yours all for myself.” He twirled the knife expertly in the one hand, the sight sending icy chills of panic through the SVU detective. “I’m not going to let anything spoil this moment. I’ve waited far too long already.”

Elliot’s stomach lurched as Blake began to advance on him, gun in one hand and knife in the other.

And then, abruptly, everything seemed to happen at once, in one big blur. Before the killer had a chance to follow through on his threats, there was an explosion of movement in the bushes immediately behind Blake, and Mike came out of nowhere, launching himself directly at the killer. The two men went crashing to the ground, and the knife and the gun both went flying from Blake’s hands.

At the same moment that Mike tackled Blake, Bobby appeared from a different direction, tackling Elliot and pushing him out of the line of fire.

Elliot gasped in shock as he hit the ground, with Bobby’s not-insubstantial bulk landing almost directly on top of him. A moment later Bobby was up, throwing out an apology to Elliot even as he charged to his brother’s aid.

Dazed and in more than a little pain, Elliot pushed himself up slowly to watch as Bobby and Mike tackled Blake to the ground and finally managed to pin him to the ground.

“Don’t move, asshole,” Mike hissed, and then looked over at Elliot.

“Hey, Elliot, you okay?”

“I… I think so,” Elliot mumbled. He looked at the two brothers with a disbelieving look on his face. “You came back… I… I figured you’d cleared out… saved yourselves…”

“And leave you here for this mutt?” Mike retorted. “Like hell! We don’t abandon cops, Elliot, and we sure as hell don’t abandon our friends.”

Warm relief flooded through Elliot, and he began to push himself up. He was halfway up when he felt it – the ground beneath him began to soften and give way.

“Elliot, don’t move!” Bobby yelled, and he froze in response to the shouted warning. He looked around him, and for the first time he realised exactly where he was – right on the edge of a very long drop.

“Uh... Guys...?” Elliot said, his voice coming out as a hoarse croak.

Ensuring that Mike had Blake under control, Bobby began to crawl back across the ground to where Elliot was. He went as far as he dared, to the edge of where the ground was starting to crumble away, and stretched his hand out to the other man.

“Grab my hand, Elliot. Quickly...”

For a long, terrifying heartbeat, Elliot remained frozen, unable to move his hand. Then, finally, he managed to unlock his brain, and lifted one hand towards Bobby.

“Reach for me,” Bobby told him. “If I try to get any closer, the ground’s going to collapse. Reach, damn it!”

Sucking in a sharp breath, Elliot steeled himself, and lunged towards Bobby. The sudden movement succeeded in doing what Bobby had been afraid he would do by trying to get closer. The ground shifted, crumbled, and gave way entirely, opening up a huge gap. His fingertips brushed briefly against Bobby’s, and Bobby made a frantic grab at him, but to no avail.

Elliot slipped through the gap, panic lighting up his features, and then he was gone.

He fell forever. At least, it felt like he did. He supposed, later on, that the fall really only lasted a few seconds at the most, but it felt like forever.

Everything seemed to slow to a crawl, like the slow motion footage you often saw in the movies. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he though heard someone shouting, and it amazed him that he even had time to process that information.

He felt branches whipping against his face, arms, legs, chest; and at some point his mind registered pain as his head struck something hard and unyielding. It didn’t knock him out, though he saw stars that blinded him momentarily.

His body hit solid ground almost before he was aware of it, but there was no further pain. Instead, a cold numbness spread rapidly through his body, from the top of his head down to his very toes. He tried to breathe in, only to get a lungful of dirty water that sent him into a violent choking fit, and in the midst of that dirty water, he tasted coppery blood.

His fingers twitched slightly. That was all the movement he could manage, and even that was involuntary.

Distantly, he heard voices shouting again, but the words made no sense to him. It was all just a jumble, and he had no strength to even try to make sense of any of it. All he knew was that cold numbness that was quickly enveloping his entire body.

Darkness closed in, and the last thought that passed through his mind as it overtook him completely was a single name.


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