'Hey,' said a whisper in an English accent. 'Hey, time to wake up.' Shaun’s mind felt strange, as though coming around from the deepest of deep sleeps or the anaesthetic of an operation. He mumbled incoherent words before his dazed eyes closed again. 'Shaun, I'm afraid I cannot let you slumber anymore.'

  Andrew whipped off a thick white duvet, a duck feather shot into the air and slowly descended to the floor. Shaun was wearing the white pyjamas of the hospital, but he was not in his room. The familiar, pregnant darkness of his mind surrounded them. A spotlight shone down on this scene, a bed and no more. 'Shaun, my boy, a terrible, unforgivable event has occurred. You must rouse yourself. I need your assistance.' Andrew's voice rose as Shaun became more and more conscious.

  'Hey,' Shaun's voice said croakily. 'Is that...'

  'Andrew. Yes, yes it is. Now, come I need to inform you of some terrible news.' Andrew hugged a dressing gown around Shaun's shoulders and guided him out of bed.

  'I feel,' said Shaun, 'like I've been asleep for ages. How long was I asleep for- wait, why am I here and not in my room?'

  'That's just it - what I'm trying to tell you. As I said to you the first time we met, we are here to stop the Faceless Man from gaining access to the Throne, and- well I completely blame myself. There was a lapse-' Andrew fiddled slightly with his cream hat. 'I let down my guard and he got through. Somehow, while you were sleeping, he removed you from the Throne, brought you here where you would be incapable of preventing his actions, and took control. There is more that I should tell you, but I don't think you would prefer to hear of it now.'

  'No,' said Shaun. 'I've spent too much of my life not knowing what is going on. I want to know.' Shaun was wide awake now, moving around the lit space, about the king size bed.

  Andrew took a deep breath. His brown eyes met with Shaun's. 'I'm afraid, that he has killed the psychiatrist, Amanda.'

  Shaun was frozen, completely shocked. 'How, how- oh he didn't make me-'

  Andrew raised a hand. 'No!” he said. ‘It was not by our hand. He used some method beyond my understanding. Physically, we were not there, but he… he was present. Oh, if you had seen it, it would have killed you.'

  Tears wet Shaun's cheeks. Murder, he thought and his knees buckled. He used the bed for support.

  'We must act immediately,' said Andrew. 'The Faceless Man cannot be allowed to remain on the Throne for much longer. Who knows what else he may be capable of. I have something to show you. First,' said Andrew, rising from the bed, 'you should be dressed.'

  'But I don't have any-' Shaun began to say, but as he looked down he saw that he was now wearing jeans, and a white t-shirt. 'What?'

  'You have forgotten,' said Andrew, 'that we are not on the outside. Anything is possible in here. Come.'

  Andrew led Shaun into the darkness. They walked for miles. Shaun was uncertain how long. If he had thought half an hour, he felt that it had been an hour, and so on until he could recollect absolutely no sense of time until it seemed like forever.

  From the darkness, a light took form. As they neared it, details came together like the lens of a camera focussing. The light shone down on an outbuilding. A green corrugated-iron roof covered dark brickwork walls. A rusted iron door was before the two men.

  'What is this?' asked Shaun.

  Andrew took his hat off and rested a hand on the brickwork. 'This is a little side-project of mine and Roran's. I think you'll find it very promising for dealing with the Faceless Man.' He opened the door, with the sound of grinding metal, and they both entered.

  Inside, the air was humid and thick with the stench of sweat and faeces. There was no light but the sound of a hundred bodies breathing scratched away at the darkness. Andrew clicked his fingers. With a thunk, florescent lights flickered into life. Shaun could see that he and Andrew were standing on a steel gantry. Below, through the grating, Shaun could see so many faces looking back up at him. They all looked similar, as though every one of them were related. It was like a family reunion in a concentration camp. The faces were grim, and grey with dirt.

  'Andrew, you sadistic fuck, you let me out of here so I can rip your head off!' screamed a single male voice from the crowd. As if it was a cue, more and more voices started to shout up at Shaun and Andrew.

  'Hmm,' Andrew laughed to himself. 'As you can see, our guests are not very happy.'

  'Andrew, what the hell is this?' Shaun's knuckles were white as he gripped the railing.

  'This is a place where the Undesirables are held, so they can cause no harm to us, or the outside world. You must realise, Shaun, that this is necessary.'

  'I-I, no, Andrew, I don't.' Shaun backed away toward the door.

  'Shaun, if these vermin were permitted to roam free, I could never forgive myself for the untold things that they would be capable of. Surely,' Andrew said, 'you would not want them killing and plundering in your name?'

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  'No, Andrew, but this seems wrong.'

  Shaun backed up further and further until he reached the threshold of the door. His back came against something hard. He whirled round. Standing there was Roran, with the permanence of stone. 'No wrong,' he said in a rough, Russian accent.

  'See,' said Andrew, gesturing with his hat. 'A fellow who sees sense.'

  Roran gave a wide, yellow smile. His muscles twitched, the many fibres dancing as he walked forward. Shaun backed up, this time inwards.

  'We cannot do this without your help, Shaun. Between all of us, you are the most defined of all the Selfs. You are the keystone to what we are trying to do here.' Andrew placed his hat on his chest, trying to reinforce his sincerity.

  'Do the others know about this place?' Shaun asked.

  Andrew gave an understanding smile. 'They are aware that myself and Roran are keeping something from them, but they have no notion of what it is.'

  'I'll only help you if the others are told about this place, so they can see it for themselves,' Shaun said.

  'I cannot allow that, Shaun.' Andrew placed his hat on his head.

  From behind Shaun, heavy hands came down on his shoulders. Oh no you don't, Shaun thought to himself. Shaun felt in the grey of his mind, a shadow of a thought, like a diagram or the list of an instruction. He could feel what Roran was going to do, as if Roran's mind had to scream the commands to his muscles.

  Shaun twisted and ducked away from Roran's punch. He slapped the man's face with all the force he could manage, sending a shock of pain up his arm. Roran was dazed, and wobbled to the left. As he met with the rail, he rallied himself and straightened. Again, Shaun heard the man's next moves.

  RIGHT, RIGHT, LEFT, UPPERCUT

  Shaun feigned left, then right and skipped backward. Roran was off balance, surprised that he was being outsmarted. Shaun lunged forward with his left leg flicking forward for a kick. He made contact with Roran's knee, sending him collapsing to the floor. He let out a roar of anger as Shaun skipped over him and toward the door.

  As he went hurtling out the door, Shaun turned his head to look inside and saw that Andrew was no longer on the gantry. A ferocious snap caught him on the back of the head, and his legs lost all purpose and sent him hurtling to the ground. He collapsed and rolled onto his back, wincing, and gasping for breath. He clutched his head.

  'Shaun, I'm afraid that if you keep up this charade, we will no longer be able to be friends. I think you already comprehend what happens to those who are not my friends.' Andrew adjusted his hat with the flick of his hand.

  Roran came up beside Andrew. 'I kill Sha-oorn,' he shouted.

  'No,' Andrew said simply and placed a hand on Roran's heaving chest of muscle. 'He still has the potential to be of use, don't you, Shaun?'

  Shaun spat on the ground and sat up with great effort. 'You're crazy,' he said.

  'We'll leave that to be reckoned at a later stage. Right now, this is the only solution to the problem at hand. The Faceless Man is in control of our body. I feel his machinations, and I'm sure you do as well. Listen, and you can hear the events that he has planned. The hospital will be incapable of holding him, and he has plans for the outside world. They will be worse than anything that I or Roran would be capable of in this place. If you wish to do the right thing, you will assist us.'

  Shaun felt a building of pressure in the darkness, like the coming of a storm. It was going to be something big and it would happen in his name, by his hands, but not through his actions. A puppet, that's what he felt like now. Just along for the ride, he thought.

  'Fine,' Shaun said. 'We'll do it, but when it is done, you'll join him in that place,' Shaun said pointing to the outhouse.

  'We will cross that particular bridge when we get to it,' Andrew said. He walked to the door, eased it shut and smacked the bolt lock back into place.

  Shaun got back to his feet and saw that Roran was staring at him with the red-hot glare of a dog about to kill. Shaun turned, just to look away.

  'Pussy.' It was not loud, but Shaun was meant to hear it. That single word had the effect of a knife stabbing through his heart. Whatever courage he had, melted away like an ice cube thrown onto a hot stove. It sizzled into nothing. Anger flipped to utter fear. Shaun let out a sigh that trembled a little.

  'Come,' said Andrew. 'It is time to see what the Faceless Man is up to.'

  ...

  Again, they walked for miles. At least, Shaun thought that it had been miles, but he had no recollection of the walk, the time it took and what direction they had taken. All he knew was that, just as before, a light appeared and took form, again, like the focussing of a lens. Orbs of colour melded together until the Throne's red leather, the silent, roaring lions and the figure of the Faceless Man became solid before Shaun.

  Black talons gripped the armrests of the old chair. A thick mould grew from beneath those talons, travelled down the leather and frosted the faces of the lions. The Faceless Man's chest heaved with effort, but his face had no nostrils.

  The three men kept their distance, but even from here they could sense a mounting of energy, a ferocity was growing about the Throne. Instinctively, neither man made any move to go closer, to enter the light.

  A buzzing sound ripped through the darkness, like the tearing of space, or the passing of a fighter jet. A swirling shadow began to orbit the Throne, intensifying in speed. Faster and faster it whirled in a gyre that drew air in towards it. With the ever-increasing speed, the sound at the men's ears grew until it thrummed in their chests and surpassed the limits of their hearing, now simply vibrating their skulls as blood seeped from their ears.

  With a gasping of air, the shadow collapsed in on itself and was absorbed by the Faceless Man with the force of a bus crashing into him. The Throne rocked noticeably, but it came back to rest in its former position.

  A huge thrum filled the air, and a piercing white light emanated from the Faceless Man's head. All three men dived away from the light, shielding their eyes. In their minds, the Faceless Man screamed, with pain, with fury, with victory.

  Shaun peered at the Throne, as bolts of energy licked the wood and leather, and blotches of mould grew and pulsed. But it was the face he saw which froze him to the core. Black, rotten, diamond-sharp teeth formed a terrible, viscous smile. Drool, like thick oil, oozed from that mouth, beginning to fall into his lap. Black, bark-like skin crusted over his checks and obsidian, crystalline eyes peered into Shaun's like a stalking predator.

  'I win, Shaun,' the Faceless Man's voice grumbled like the rolling of approaching thunder.

  Shaun could only look on, held to the ground by what felt like the sheer intensity of that stare. The creature in the Throne, which seemed different - worse - than the Faceless Man had been but moments before, lifted its head and roared with a terrible intensity.