Monster Kilroy (2)

Struggling with his memories, a void had opened up.

As he tried in vain to hold onto those images of his former life (his friends and loved ones), the inner sanctum of his feelings (the sum of his egoism), he was conscious of a presence.

There followed an eerily abstract conversation.

What do you want with me? He had said.

What you know.

We know that you know, they had said.

What can there be to know? - I know nothing, he had said. But his voice had been lame with protest.

The writing was on the wall.
He could see they were trying to construct a case.
However bogus their reasoning, conviction was in their voices, the cold chill of certainty. – As if – like the Monster Kilroy - he’d been chosen to validate their reality.