Slowly, though I couldn’t say how long it really took, I felt the pain subside as the darkness in my mind and heart began to lift. When it was done, I still ached and felt weak, but I was able to sit up. More importantly, I felt normal again. Better in some ways than I had in weeks. Looking first at Jeff, who was watching me quietly as he wiped slime off his arms, I told him thank you before looking down to thank the creatures that had cured me like they promised they would. It was then that I saw that only one, the one without the mask, was left standing.

“Are…Are they dead?”

It nodded. “As you mean it, yes. The corruption in you was great, and curing it takes a great toll. But that is as it must be. Nothing is won without sacrifice, and every time we thwart the Rot, the sacrifice is made worthwhile. Now rest. You still need much healing, and the rest you have to do on your own.”

Despite my alertness just moments ago, I found myself suddenly very drowsy. Sinking back down to the ground, I soon found myself being carried farther and farther from the terrible shores of that place and that night on warm tides of sleep.

When I woke, I was in a hospital. Back in a world that was familiar and safe and sane. In my gratitude, I wept for a little while.

****

After I pulled Jack from that place, I went back down and coated it all in gasoline and set it ablaze, along with the clothes and shoes I was wearing, as they were ruined and I had a spare set at the clubhouse. The spokesman, the only survivor of their fight with Oscar and the curing of Jack, said that blaze was sufficient, but I went ahead and burned down the Red House too. Fuck that place.

I carried Jack back to the clubhouse, got dressed, and waited outside the car for the police and ambulances I had called to arrive. I felt little surprise when I looked over to see the small creature I called the spokesman standing nearby. Apparently it had found its mask somewhere, for as I watched, it tucked it casually under its tiny arm as it looked up at me.

I asked was it over, and it told me that it is never over. I asked if our part was done, and it said that we had succeeded in thwarting the Rot in this place, in weakening its hold. As for whether my part was done, that would be up to me.

“There is always more work to be done, Mr. Spires. Whether your part is done or not lies within your own heart. If you ever choose to fight against the growing tide of the Rot again, call me and we will come if we are able. Be warned, however—that help, like everything else, is never guaranteed.”