It was an evening like the one ten years ago when Harry Warden staged a massacre in the Hanniger mine. The wind whistled through the dimly lit corridors as you stared at Tom, Tom whose mask had now fallen, revealing whose work he'd continued since he returned to town.

His eyes were fixed on you. "It's so lonely in there," he finally managed to whisper in a hoarse voice. "In my head," He pressed his hand to his chest, where his heart pounded furiously. "In here, in here it's so.. empty."