The last thing he hears before his head hits the dirty concrete floor is the screaming.

...police... he's no one, I swear
get stevie ...just a poet named Joey Bell...
...you little liar... no, don't hurt me
not breathing ...shoulda known you'd be running around...
...oh my god, he isn't... look what you made me do

as he spirals down into the darkness his shattered mind reaches out for reason and all but two words slip through his fingers

bell
liar

it's cold here

liar
bell

--where am I? What have I done? Where's the world, the sky, the sun?--

SHHHH. SLEEP NOW.

bell
liar

he drifts in this wonderful no-time, watching the pieces of his fractured soul floating about in a frenetic dance, trying to reassemble the puzzle of who he Was. They are mirrors, glass, bits of fluff and strips of satin. They speak to him.

YOU ARE AWAKE and you are healed. GOOD. NOW, you are GOING BACK.

--but why--

Touched, yes. WE NEED MORE PROPHETS in the world down there. YOUR POEMS TELL the truth but not the WHY.

--this was no chance meeting. where is Trinny?--

SAFE. HE WHO sent you to us HAS BEEN TAKEN in chains.

liar
bell
liar

WHAT DO YOU remember?

bell
liar

THEN THAT shall be your NAME AS LONG as you are in our SERVICE. GO AND tell your tales, FOR THEY WILL SHAPE the world.

...two days later, in a dark cave under an ancient Oak, a lonely stag with a crown of feathers opened his eyes...