As he stood there, John noticed a dark-black dot in the corner of the interview room. It was smaller than a golf ball, and he would have missed it if it weren’t for the fact that it was gradually growing in size. Light seemed to bend into it and disappear within it. At its center was the deepest and darkest nothingness he had ever seen.
“It’s not over! It’s not over!” Santiago screamed at it.
The dark sphere grew in size. It was the size of a football now. Santiago’s spirit had fully emerged, blazing with white light, his face and prison jumpsuit now barely distinguishable from the intensity of the light.
Completely unaware of what was happening in the spirit world, Chapman had rushed to Quinn’s slumped body and was checking for signs of breathing. The captain rushed out of the room to get help.
Another deep-black sphere appeared––this time at the center of Santiago’s glowing form. It, too, began smaller than a golf ball but increased in size rapidly, consuming the white glow within itself and gradually dissolving away Santiago’s features.
“No! Fucking no!” Santiago screamed.
The sound of screaming faded to a quieter level, as though someone had turned down the volume on the speakers transmitting sounds from the interview room.
“Well done, John!” said a familiar female voice right next to him.
It startled John. He turned to his right and saw Nikki.
“You’re an interesting character, John. You’ve caused Santiago’s spirit to fail at executing the narrative he was given in The Game.”
“What? What does that mean exactly?” John stuttered, his face showing a desperate need to have his hopes turned into reality.
“He failed to create an unprecedented epidemic of drug addiction and violence. It was going to be our best work yet. But once the Feds found Yilmaz, the only man who could make the pills, it was all over.”
“And what does that mean for me, my girlfriend, and her father?” John asked fearfully as he switched back to the view of Santiago’s diminishing spirit and then back again toward her.
“It means Santiago’s spirit has lost his right to be here. He will never be able to possess another mortal, never be able to influence their thoughts, convince them to attack or kill someone. He’s no longer a menace to you or your girlfriend and her father. And you defeated him.”
She said it so flatly, so casually, that her words took a moment to sink in. When it did, he felt a profound relief, as though vast waves of stress were washing out of him. John realized he was now seeing Santiago being transformed from an earthbound spirit into pure consciousness: a dark, spherical abyss called a Void, just like the ones Nikki had shown him when she had taught him about The Game. Another Void had come for Santiago, presumably to ensure his joining with humanity in the afterlife.
“So, we’re––” John didn’t finish. He couldn’t. No words came out. Something was preventing him from speaking.
“Don’t talk, look!” Nikki commanded.
John looked back into the interview room. The last of Santiago’s spirit had been all but consumed. As the last parts of his glowing form disappeared into the black sphere, his shouting suddenly stopped. The two Voids stayed in the room for a second, hovering perfectly still at the same height, about five feet off the floor, before disappearing.
Chapman was sitting across from Quinn, who was still slumped over with his chest and face flat on the table. A paramedic was taking the detainee’s pulse, checking his breathing, then took out some smelling salts and placed them under Quinn’s nose.
“What am I supposed to see?” John asked Nikki, still confused.
“Wait,” she replied, her tone impatient.
John was about to look back at Nikki when the captain burst into the interview room. “Lazlo’s been shot by a sniper! He’s dead! Cromwell just called it in. It happened an hour and a half ago, but he was out of cell range.”
“How the hell did that happen?” exclaimed Chapman.
John could hardly register what he had just heard. Lazlo, the person who had done so much to help him and Jen, was now dead. The assassin had still gotten to him, despite all the money and seemingly clever FBI tactics. As John’s gaze wandered around him in disbelief, he noticed that Nikki had sidled up to him and he suddenly became aware of her energy buzzing against his own as she tilted her head to whisper something in his ear.
“A new star is born,” she breathed.
“What do you mean?”
“Bye, John, and good luck!” she responded, ignoring his question.
“Wait! What’s going to happen to me?”
She didn’t reply. A black void grew from her center. When it had completely consumed her, it too was the size of a football. It hovered next to him before disappearing in a flash.
The activity in the interview room now recaptured John’s attention. Quinn had come round and was sitting up.
Chapman greeted him. “Welcome back, Mr. Quinn. You’re off to Rikers to await arraignment.”
“Call Senator Sanders. He will get me released,” said Quinn wearily.
“Sure, right after we call the President,” responded Chapman with a good dose of sarcasm.
John watched as two FBI SWAT officers in combat gear uncuffed Quinn from the bar set into the table and dragged him to his feet before taking him out of the room.
John followed behind Chapman and the captain.
“Call Sanders!” Quinn continued to repeat, still dazed and staggering.
Quinn
