Ending — Keep Them Shut
Flashing lights • Footsteps on tile • The sound of a camera shutter
Dio keeps his eyes closed. The lights are too bright, the air too loud. The train isn’t moving anymore — or maybe it never was. He feels pressure on his wrist, something cold and metallic snapping shut.
“Sir, don’t move,” a voice says, firm and human. The sound is wrong for the dream — too real, too close. Fingers check his pulse. The smell of gun oil and bleach cuts through the iron in the air.
He opens one eye just enough to see the blur of uniforms and flashlights. The girl in white is gone. In her place stands a detective, expression unreadable.
“You’ve been busy tonight,” the detective mutters, crouching beside him. Plastic evidence bags crinkle. Someone lifts his sketchbook with gloved hands. A Polaroid camera lies on the floor — still warm, still humming.
“Am I under arrest?” Dio asks, voice cracking between disbelief and laughter. “No,” the detective says, eyes narrowing. “You’re under investigation.” A click, not from a camera this time, but from the cuffs.
They lead him up the stairs. The city’s light hits him full in the face. Sirens wail somewhere far away, blending with the hum of the rails. For a moment, he almost believes he can still hear the train moving underground, carrying the version of him that never stopped.