After parting with Lyle, William ran nonstop towards Lafillin.
When he got hold of that book, he knew, he had known all along, that the road to madness through mystery was not an easy one to tread.
His friends were dwindling, dying unexpectedly, succumbing to accidents, withdrawing in disillusionment, or twisting into strangers. William had seen too many horrors, and Lyle was just a small part of it; he didn't know if he was next.
But he wouldn't stop, he had sacrificed too much, he needed and rightly deserved a return. William roughly tore open the pocket of his shirt, reaching inside for his little iron box which contained sugar pills. It was a habit since childhood, William always used sweetness to suppress panic when anxious, this time was no exception.
As his taste buds savored the sweetness, his brain indulged in bitterness. In the balance of his body, William returned to the impassive gentleman he was.
