Day 3: Saturday 1st November 1926, in the jungle, Haiti
Otto says that we are dead. We are just figments of his imagination. He examines himself and finds two blackened wounds from the Sharp Stone and his is carrying the items we were. But I can still speak to him, and suddenly the others are there again, I can hear them. So how can I be dead?
I am convinced this is some terrible hallucination and insist that I am not dead. He challenges my perception in that I cannot see myself. Well it is difficult to believe. I am a figment of his imagination? But I am me, Rupert Hayes, not Otto. I am American, he is German, Tobias, Henry and Jonah are English. We are all so different, how could we be created by his mind? How could one mind encompass our multiple personalities? The death and destruction apparent in our memories may be real, it may not. We could still be hallucinating, under some sort of spell, I don’t know.
The others seem to more readily accept this. I can not. I may come to accept the fact that Rupert is dead in body, but I am still alive, at least in spirit. There may be a way to restore me to health, to restore us all, it this has truly come to pass. Rupert Hayes cannot yet die, his greatest story needs yet to be told.
Otto, confused and alone, with so many spirits, memories, must continue the quest. Tobias’s friend still needs saving, he has the drive and bravery to see it through. Jonah is still driven to understand the gap in his memories, and perhaps by revenge. Henry’s paranoia over whether he will become a beast drives him to seek answers and a resolution to his (Otto’s) physical predicament. I for one will strive to record all these things and ensure Otto lives to tell my tale even if I can not. But I have trouble believing these last minutes’ revelations. I, Rupert Hayes, am not dead, am I?