The wintry, white face of the mountain housing the End of the Road Insane Asylum towered behind him, its forever-frozen peak lost in the gray clouds blanketing the sky. Before him, the boy saw the last person of his village succumb to the claws of insanity.

The man was filthy, barely clothed, scraped from head to toe. He thrashed about in the muddy grass of what used to be the village commons, clutching at things above him that were not there. The man’s eyes flared, wide and white, as if he saw ghosts swarming in for the haunt. He screamed now and then, a raw rasp that revealed the condition of his ruined throat. Then, spurred by something unseen, the man got up and sprinted away, stumbling and getting back up again, running wildly, arms flailing.

The boy finally tore his eyes away, tears streaming as he looked back toward the icy mountain. A lot of the crazies were already there, filling the asylum to capacity—prospective inmates had been turned away for a week now, left to wander the streets and fight others who were as mad as they were.

The boy had not eaten in two days. He’d not slept in three, at least not peacefully. He’d stopped grieving for his parents and brother and started worrying about how to survive, how to live. He tried not to think—

You are mine, now.

The boy jumped, looking around for the source of the voice. Someone had spoken to him, as clear a sound as he’d ever heard. But no one was there.

There’s no need to be alarmed. The Darkin Project will be fully functional soon. Until then, survive. This is an automatic recording. Good-bye for now.

The boy spun in a tight circle, searching his surroundings. He saw only the burnt ruins of his village—weeds, dust, trash. A rat skittered across the ruined road. Someone was screaming, but it was very far away.

The boy was alone.

The voice was in his head.

It had begun.

Part

1

~

The Unwanted Wink

Chapter

1

~

The Two Faces of
Reginald Chu

Mr. Chu hated his first name. It was evil.

Crazy, perhaps, for an adult to think such a thing—especially a science teacher—but as he walked down the dark, deserted street, he felt the truth of it like a forty-pound weight in his gut. He’d felt it since childhood—an odd uneasiness every time someone called his name. A black pit in his belly, like rotting food that wouldn’t digest.

“Mr. Chu!”