THEY JUST SAID JERICHO IS DEAD
WHAT THE HELL
I am literally shaking. how is this real. first claire and now this.
I've been re-listening to Jericho's last album and something feels wrong.
Track 7 lyrics:
"Silver bullet mercy / moonlight makes her bleed /
I have everything I needed / now I have everything I need"
Zero Gravity had exactly 4‘¡ studio albums. Each one darker than the last. Track 7 was always the breaking point. Why silver? Silver has folklore meaning. It's not random.
Has anyone else been going back to that Motionless in White track Jericho used to play on tour?
"Werewolf." The one about the transformation you can't undo.
I played it for Jericho once, at a show in 2013. He went completely quiet when it came on. Stood there for the whole song not saying anything. Afterwards he said:
"I think that song was written about me. Not by them. By something that knew what I was going to become."
I laughed. I thought he was being poetic. I didn't understand what he meant.
I do now.
does anyone else ever look at the person sleeping next to them and not recognize them at all
not like — stranger. like. something wearing a face you used to know.
i've been awake for 40 hours. the songs keep coming. i didn't write them. they showed up.
claire said she loves the new ones. she said she loves what i'm becoming. i think that's what scares me most.
what do you do when you realize the person you love is not a person
i don't mean that the way it sounds. i mean — what if you look at someone you've known for seven years and you see, for the first time, what they actually are. underneath. the thing that was there before you met them.
what if it's beautiful. what if it's terrible. what if it's both.
what if it's been using you and you let it because you didn't know what you were letting in.
she is a monster. i don't say that to be cruel. i say it because i think it is the literal truth and i don't know what to do with that.
i keep thinking about silver.
why silver. why does every culture independently arrive at silver. what did they all see that made them agree on the same answer across centuries and continents without ever speaking to each other.
there's only one explanation. they were all right. they all saw the same thing.
i've been writing for 18 hours. my hands are shaking. the lyrics are not mine.
i love her. that's the worst part. i love her and i don't know which thing i love — the face i've always known, or whatever's underneath it.
I don't know how to write this. I've started it four times.
Jericho Vale was my friend. He was the first person in this industry who treated me like I was already worth something before I'd proven it to anyone including myself.
He showed me that you could be dangerously honest in a rock song and survive it. That you could put the worst thing about yourself into a lyric and come out the other side.
After Claire, I kept waiting for him to say something. I should have gone there. I'll be asking myself that for the rest of my life.
I loved him. — CD
I wasn't going to say anything publicly. I wasn't ready to be out in the world again.
But Jericho died this morning. So here I am.
During all of it — Jericho called. When I'd stopped answering everyone else. He called.
I can't repay that now. I'm coming out of the dark for him. I owe him at least that much.
If anyone is struggling: 1-800-273-8255.
📌 PINNED — The Astor Benedict Timeline
We're not saying he did it. We're saying nobody is asking the right questions.
¸ Astor Benedict and Jericho Vale had a public falling out in 2012 over creative control.
¸ Benedict goes to prison. Jericho never visits.
¸ Claire Vale murdered June 2014. Benedict still inside — can't be proven.
¸ Benedict gets out. Jericho is dead exactly 1 month later.
¸ Benedict is the first public figure to post about Jericho's death. Before official confirmation from the family.
How did he know before the family released a statement?
I'm not a man who writes on here. My niece set this up and I've used it approximately four times in three years.
I didn't know Jericho Vale. I know his name. I know what's happened around his name in the past year.
I am currently sitting in a rented room in Salem, Massachusetts, drinking tea that doesn't taste right. Something doesn't add up. It never has. I don't like things that don't add up. —LH
The press called him a conduit. An instrument. Something passed through him.
One word appears in the Rolling Stone article — the key to everything Astor understood.
Find it. Type it below.
HOLLOWAY — The flags on Main Street hang at half-mast this morning. The marquee of the Rialto Theater on Elm Street — where Jericho Vale played his first public show at age fourteen, a forty-minute set of covers in front of forty parents — now reads simply: JERICHO. WE LOVE YOU. Holloway has lost its son.
Jericho Marcus Vale, 38, lead vocalist and founding member of the rock band Zero Gravity, was found unresponsive at his home in the early hours of Tuesday morning. The Marion County Coroner's Office confirmed the death shortly before 7 a.m. A cause of death has not yet been officially released, pending a full examination, though local law enforcement confirmed no signs of foul play.
The death comes one year after the tragedy that shook those closest to Vale: his wife, Claire Vale, 35, was murdered at the couple's Indianapolis home on June 17, 2014, in circumstances that remain under active investigation. No arrest has been made. Friends say Vale never recovered from the loss. He had cancelled several promotional appearances for the new album in the weeks that followed, and had been largely absent from public life since the spring.
Neighbors on Birch Street, where Vale grew up in a two-story clapboard house his mother still owns, described waking to the news in disbelief. "I keep waiting for it not to be true," said Ruth Elland, 64, who lived next door for twenty years. "After what happened to Claire, we were all so worried about him. He came home for a weekend in May — he just sat on the porch and didn't talk much. We just thought we'd have longer with him."
Vale graduated from Holloway High School in 1995, where he was remembered by former music teacher Harold Pryce as "the most naturally gifted student I taught in thirty-one years." The school announced it will hold a candlelight vigil on the football field tonight at 8 p.m. Principal Janet Ruiz said the school's counselors will be available all week.
Vale formed the earliest version of Zero Gravity in the school's basement rehearsal room in 1993, reportedly keeping his teacher waiting while he finished a riff. "He never apologized," Pryce recalled with a sad laugh. "He just played it back for me. It was worth waiting for."
Zero Gravity's 2003 breakthrough album Signal Fire put Holloway on the map in a way nothing had since the 1954 county championship football team. Vale famously thanked the town at his first arena show in Indianapolis: "Everything I know about being real, Holloway taught me."
A small memorial of flowers, candles, and handwritten notes has already begun to form outside the Birch Street house. By mid-morning, fans from as far as Columbus and Louisville had arrived. The Holloway Chamber of Commerce has asked visitors to treat the neighborhood with respect.
Holloway High School, 8 p.m., football field. Bring a candle. Students, staff, and community members all welcome. The Holloway Community Choir will perform. Vale's mother, Doris Vale, has asked for privacy but released a brief statement through the family's attorney: "We thank you for your love for Jericho, and for Claire. They both felt it always."
Four studio albums. Three world tours. Forty-two million records sold. A Grammy nomination for Fault Lines (2008). He married Claire Ashworth of Indianapolis in 2009. Those who knew him here will remember the kid who bought two hot dogs and gave one away at the county fair — and always saved the second one for whoever stood next to him.
Zero Gravity's management, Meridian Artist Group, confirmed that all remaining dates of the Gravity's Edge World Tour are cancelled effective immediately. Full refunds will be issued. The band has not yet issued a public statement beyond a brief post on their official Facebook page.
There are singers, and then there are conduits. Jericho Vale was the latter. From the moment Signal Fire hit in 2003, his voice — raw as torn wire, precise as surgery — became the vocabulary of a generation that had never quite found the words for what it was feeling. That voice is gone now. Vale was found dead at his home this morning. He was thirty-eight years old.
What the public did not know — what Vale had kept fiercely private — was the weight he had been carrying since April. His wife, Claire Vale, 35, was murdered at their home in Indianapolis on June 17, 2014. The case remains unsolved. In the year between her death and his own, Vale gave no interviews, cancelled no tour dates publicly, and released a single statement through his management: "Claire was everything. There are no words. Please respect our privacy." He said nothing further.
The news broke just before seven in the morning, confirmed by the Marion County Coroner's Office and Zero Gravity's management within hours. No official cause of death has been released. Band co-founder and bassist Daniel Mercer was the first member to break silence, posting to the band's Facebook page: "We are devastated. There are no other words yet. Please hold the people you love." The post was shared over two hundred thousand times within the hour.
Signal Fire (2003): The debut that changed everything. Produced by Rick Rubin collaborator James Holt, its first single "Glass Spine" went platinum in eleven countries. Vale was 26. He had written most of the lyrics on a Greyhound bus from Indianapolis to New York.
Below the Surface (2005): Darker, rawer, recorded in three weeks. Critics called it reckless; fans called it essential. The song "Hollow" became an anthem for a generation navigating depression without language to describe it.
Fault Lines (2008): The Grammy-nominated zenith. "Seventeen Minutes" charted in twenty-two countries. Rolling Stone awarded it four stars. Vale dedicated it, in the liner notes, to "everyone who stayed."
Gravity's Edge (2015): Released in spring — nearly a year after Claire died — darker and more orchestral than anything before. The album was completed before her murder, but its closing track, "Last Signal," is now read by many as devastatingly prophetic: I have sent everything I had into the dark / I hope someone receives it.
Among the first in the music world to respond were Connor Dusk, the Los Angeles-based singer often described as Vale's closest rival and collaborator, and Astor Benedict, frontman of The Pale Horses, who was released from a correctional facility several weeks ago after a period of incarceration whose details remain largely private. Both men had known Vale for years.
Dusk's Facebook post — running to several hundred words — described Vale as "the person who showed me you could be dangerously honest in a rock song and survive it." Benedict, in a rare public statement, broke weeks of post-release silence to write: "He called me when no one else did. I owe him things I can't repay now."
Those closest to Vale describe Claire not merely as a wife but as something rarer — a true — an animating force that made everything he created possible. Without her, sources say, the music did not arrive. It stopped.
Jericho Marcus Vale, whose voice carried the weight of damage and the defiance of survival in equal measure, was found dead at his home on Tuesday morning. He was 38. The Marion County Coroner's Office confirmed the death; no official cause has been released. Mr. Vale was the lead vocalist and primary lyricist of Zero Gravity, the rock band from Holloway, Indiana whose four studio albums made him one of the most significant rock voices of the decade.
Mr. Vale's death follows by one year the murder of his wife, Claire Vale, née Ashworth, 35, at the couple's Indianapolis residence on June 17, 2014. The killing remains unsolved; the Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department has confirmed an open homicide investigation but has released no further details. Mr. Vale, who had been married to Mrs. Vale since 2009, issued a single brief statement at the time and subsequently withdrew from public life. The timing — and the absence of any explanation — has already prompted much public speculation, though those who knew him have urged restraint.
Zero Gravity emerged at a moment when rock was widely eulogized as commercially obsolete. Mr. Vale seemed unaware of this. Signal Fire, the band's 2003 debut, sold three million copies in its first month. Its lyrics, which addressed addiction, estrangement, and the particular loneliness of early adulthood with an almost clinical precision, resonated with an audience that had grown up during the 2008 financial crisis and found little comfort in the prevailing music of the era.
Mr. Vale was not without controversy. His public acknowledgment of struggles with depression and substance dependency — unusual in its specificity and its refusal of euphemism — drew both admiration and criticism. Some found his candor exploitative; most found it liberating. Several mental health organizations cited Zero Gravity songs in their outreach materials.
Musician Connor Dusk, a longtime associate, and Astor Benedict, former frontman of The Pale Horses, were among the first to issue public tributes. Both statements were notable for their intimacy, suggesting relationships that went considerably beyond professional acquaintance. Mr. Benedict, who had only recently completed a period of incarceration, described Mr. Vale as "the one person who kept calling."
Mr. Vale is survived by his mother, Doris Vale, of Holloway, and two siblings. He was predeceased by his wife, Claire Vale, murdered June 2014. A private service will be arranged by the family. In lieu of flowers, the Vale family has requested donations to the National Alliance on Mental Illness.
He was from Holloway, Indiana. He sounded like he was from the marrow of your bones. Jericho Vale is dead, and whether you are reading this in a flat in Hackney or a house in Leeds or a bedsit in Glasgow, there is a very good chance that at some point his voice helped you get through a night you weren't sure you would get through. He knew what those nights looked like. He had been living inside one since April, when his wife Claire was murdered.
Vale headlined the Pyramid Stage at Glastonbury in 2014 — a booking that surprised the festival's British-leaning audience and justified itself within thirty seconds of the opening chord. By the second song, sixty thousand people were singing words they had learned in their bedrooms back to the man who had written them. It remains, by most accounts, one of the decade's defining festival sets.
The last three months of Vale's life were defined by a grief he made no attempt to explain publicly. His wife, Claire, 35, was killed at their Indianapolis home on June 17, 2014. The murder is unsolved. Vale cancelled nothing — the tour was still scheduled, the album was already out — but he stopped talking. He stopped appearing. Those who saw him in the weeks that followed described a man who was present in body and somewhere else entirely in every other sense.
British music press had long been fascinated by the creative tension between Vale and Astor Benedict of The Pale Horses — a rivalry that NME documented obsessively from 2006 onward. Where Vale was confessional and emotionally direct, Benedict was oblique, theatrical, dangerous. They were, in the estimation of many critics, the two sides of a conversation American rock urgently needed to have with itself.
Benedict's statement today — his first public words since his release from prison — cut through the noise. "There was always going to be a day I couldn't call him back. I didn't know today was it."
Connor Dusk, the Los Angeles-based singer, occupied a different position in Vale's constellation — closer in sound, closer in method, closer in friendship. Their relationship had been described as mentor and protégé, though neither accepted the framing. "We just made each other better," Dusk told NME in 2014. His tribute today confirmed the depth of that bond.
British fans are gathering spontaneously outside the O2 Arena in Holloway, scene of Zero Gravity's sell-out 2014 show. Flowers and handwritten notes are accumulating at the stage door.
Il y avait dans la voix de Jericho Vale quelque chose d'intraduisible — et pourtant universellement compris. Mort ce mardi matin à son domicile de l'Indiana, à seulement 38 ans, le chanteur de Zero Gravity laisse derrière lui quatre albums qui ont reformulé les possibilités du rock américain contemporain — et un deuil que le monde de la musique découvre aujourd'hui dans toute sa brutalité. La cause officielle de son décès n'a pas encore été communiquée.
Vale n'était pas, à proprement parler, un chanteur « européen ». Ses racines étaient profondément ancrées dans la middle America : Holloway, Indiana, une ville de moins de quarante mille habitants dont il était devenu l'enfant prodige le plus inattendu. Et pourtant, les salles françaises, allemandes, britanniques l'avaient adopté avec une ferveur qui dépassait l'ordinaire.
Ce que le public ignorait pour la plupart, c'est que Vale portait depuis trois mois un deuil d'une violence particulière. Sa femme, Claire Vale, 35 ans, a été assassinée le 9 avril dernier à leur domicile d'Indianapolis. L'enquête est toujours en cours ; aucune arrestation n'a été annoncée. Vale avait alors publié une brève déclaration — « Claire était tout. Il n'y a pas de mots. » — avant de disparaître presque totalement de la vie publique. Les quelques personnes qui l'avaient vu dans les semaines suivantes décrivaient un homme qui continuait d'exister, sans plus vraiment vivre.
Parmi les premières réactions à se distinguer dans le flot des hommages, celles de Connor Dusk et d'Astor Benedict ont retenu l'attention par leur caractère profondément personnel. Dusk, 27 ans, dont la carrière solo monte depuis Los Angeles, a publié ce matin un texte sobre et dévastateur. Il décrit Vale comme l'homme qui lui avait montré « qu'on pouvait être dangereusement honnête dans une chanson rock et survivre à ça ».
Astor Benedict, ancien chanteur des Pale Horses, libéré depuis quelques semaines après une période d'incarcération dont les détails restent flous, avait jusqu'à présent gardé le silence le plus complet sur sa vie publique. La mort de Vale l'a fait sortir de ce silence avec une brutalité désarmante. « Il appelait, même quand personne d'autre ne le faisait. Je sors de l'ombre pour lui. »
Hay voces que no se olvidan. La de Jericho Vale era de esas: ronca en los graves, afilada en los agudos, capaz de quebrarse en el momento exacto en que el oyente más lo necesitaba. Esta mañana, esa voz se ha silenciado para siempre. Vale, cantante y letrista de Zero Gravity, ha muerto a los 38 años en su domicilio de Holloway, Indiana, apenas tres meses después del asesinato de su esposa. Las autoridades han confirmado el fallecimiento pero aún no han revelado la causa oficial.
Su trayectoria fue breve y perfecta en su intensidad. Cuatro álbumes en cinco años, cuarenta millones de discos vendidos, tres giras mundiales y una capacidad casi sobrenatural para poner letra a los estados emocionales que su generación no sabía nombrar. Su álbum Fault Lines (2008) fue nominado al Grammy y elegido por varias publicaciones especializadas como el disco de rock más importante de la primera mitad de la década.
Lo que empaña aún más esta noticia es el contexto en el que se produce. El pasado 9 de abril, Claire Vale, esposa del cantante desde 2009, fue asesinada en el domicilio que la pareja mantenía en Indianápolis. El crimen permanece sin resolver. Vale emitió un único comunicado — breve, devastado — y después desapareció de la vida pública. Siguió adelante con el tour, con las entrevistas canceladas en silencio, con la apariencia de alguien que funciona. Quienes lo conocían describían otra cosa.
La escena del rock alternativo norteamericano de los años 2010 giraba, en gran medida, en torno a tres nombres: Jericho Vale, Connor Dusk y Astor Benedict. Sus relaciones —de amistad, de rivalidad, de influencia mutua— eran el tema favorito de la prensa musical especializada. Dusk, el más joven, admiraba a Vale abiertamente. Benedict, el más oscuro, mantenía con él una relación más compleja, hecha de admiración y tensión.
Astor Benedict, quien acaba de salir de prisión tras un período de encarcelamiento del que poco se ha dicho públicamente, ha publicado este martes su primera declaración pública desde su liberación. Lo ha hecho para despedir a Vale. «Tengo semanas fuera y hoy pierdo a la persona que más me importaba de esta industria. No sé cómo se empieza otra vez sin él.» Las palabras han generado miles de reacciones en redes sociales.
C'è una crudeltà particolare nel modo in cui certe storie si concludono. Jericho Vale aveva già attraversato il peggio — o almeno così pensavamo. Aveva scritto dell'abisso come chi lo conosce dall'interno. Aveva perso sua moglie Claire, assassinata nella loro casa di Indianapolis il 9 aprile scorso, in circostanze che la polizia non ha ancora chiarito. E questa mattina, a 38 anni, è stato trovato senza vita nel suo appartamento di Holloway, Indiana. La causa ufficiale della morte non è ancora stata comunicata.
Gli Zero Gravity erano qualcosa di raro: una band americana che sapeva essere brutalmente onesta senza diventare esibizionista. Il loro primo album, Signal Fire (2003), vendette tre milioni di copie nel primo mese. Vale aveva 26 anni e aveva scritto la maggior parte dei testi su un autobus Greyhound tra Indianapolis e New York. Da allora, quattro album, tre tour mondiali, una nomination ai Grammy per Fault Lines (2008) e infine Gravity's Edge, uscito in aprile — lo stesso mese della morte di Claire — con una traccia finale che oggi suona come un addio: Ho mandato tutto quello che avevo nel buio. Spero che qualcuno lo riceva.
Quando Claire Vale fu uccisa in aprile, Jericho rilasciò una sola dichiarazione — «Claire era tutto. Non ci sono parole.» — e scomparve dalla vita pubblica. Nessuna intervista, nessuna apparizione. Il tour era ancora in calendario, le date non vennero cancellate. Chi lo incontrò nelle settimane successive descrisse un uomo che si muoveva nel mondo come se il mondo non lo riguardasse più. L'indagine sull'omicidio di Claire è ancora aperta. Nessun arresto.
La notizia della sua morte ha travolto i social media nel giro di poche ore. Connor Dusk, musicista e amico intimo, ha pubblicato un lungo post su Facebook descrivendo Vale come «la persona che mi ha insegnato che si può essere pericolosamente onesti in una canzone rock e sopravvivere.» Astor Benedict, ex frontman dei The Pale Horses, appena uscito dal carcere dopo un periodo di detenzione di cui si sa poco, ha rotto il silenzio con parole che hanno commosso centinaia di migliaia di persone: «Ero ancora dentro quando Claire è morta. Non ho potuto nemmeno mandargli un messaggio. Quando sono uscito, chiamarlo era la prima cosa che volevo fare. Mi dicevo sempre che lo avrei fatto il giorno dopo.»
Il mondo della musica si trova oggi di fronte a una domanda che nessuno osa formulare ad alta voce: Jericho Vale si è spento da solo, consumato da un dolore che non aveva più parole, oppure c'è qualcosa che non torna? L'omicidio di Claire rimane irrisolto. La morte di Jericho è avvenuta tre mesi dopo, senza causa ufficiale dichiarata. Due tragedie, una stessa famiglia, nessuna risposta.
Il musicologo Paolo Vetrini, dell'Università di Bologna, interpellato dal Corriere, ha detto: «Vale era uno di quegli artisti che trasformano il trauma in forma. Quando il trauma supera la forma, la forma scompare. È quello che temiamo sia successo.» I fan italiani — Vale aveva riempito il Forum di Assago nel 2014 — si sono riuniti spontaneamente davanti alla venue questa sera. Fiori e bigliettini scritti a mano si accumulano sul marciapiede.
ジェリコ・マーカス・ケイン。1977年、インディアナ州ホロウェイまれ。ロックバンド「ゼロ・グラヴィティ」のãーカリストにして主要ソングライター。2003年のデビューアルバム『シグナル・ファイア』は全ä¸çでä¸ç¾ä¸枚を初に売りä¸げ、以来四枚のアルバムをじてアメリカン・ロックのも誠実な声として君臨した。享年38歳。æ¬日æª明、インディアナ州ホロウェイの自宅において死亡が確認された。公式の死因はまだ明らかにされていない。
その死は、ä¸か前の悲劇と切りé¢せない。ä»年4æ9日、妻のクレア・ケイン(享年35歳)がインディアナポリスの自宅で殺害された。ç¯äººはç¾å¨も走ä¸であり、æ査はç¶ç¶ä¸とされている。ケインはçいコメントをä¸度だã‘çº表した——「クレアがすべてだった。言è‘がない。」——その後、公の場から姿を消した。ツアーの日ç¨はそのままç¶持されたが、インタビューも、コメントも、沈é»だã‘がç¶いた。
ケインは2014年の武é館公演において、é演前のサウンドチェック後にç´30分é、スタッフやé¢ä¿者にå‘ã‘て公式に話したことがç¥られている。「この国のオーディエンスは、é³楽をä½のä¸で聴く」と語ったとされ、その言è‘は日æ¬のé³楽ファンのでé·く語りç¶がれてきた。ä»å¤、武é館前には花束と手ç´がç©まれ始めている。
グラミー賞ノミネートアルバム『フォールト・ラインズ』(2008年)の収é²曲「セブンティーン・ミニッツ」は、日æ¬ではç¹にç²¾ç¥çな苦しみを抱える若者ので支持をめた。SNSä¸では深å¤から追悼の言è‘が溢れ、ハッシュタグ「#JerichoKane」はトレンド1ä½を記é²している。
同じくミュージシャンのコナー・ダスク(ロサンゼルスå¨ä½)は、Facebookにé·文の追悼文を投稿した。「彼は、ロックの曲のä¸で危éºなほど正ç´であることができるとç§に示してくれた人éだ。クレアがった後、ç§は彼からä½か言è‘が来るのをずっと待っていた。彼はé»話を取ったが、ほとんど話さなかった。ä¼いに行くべきだった。」
アスター・ベネディクト——バンド「ザ・ペイル・ホーシーズ」の元フロントマンで、数é±é前に収ç£施設から放されたばかり——は、ä»回の訃報にして初めて公の声明をçº表した。「クレアが亡くなったとき、ç§はまだä¸にいた。メッセージもれなかった。出所してからé»話しようと思っていた。いつかやろうと思っていた。」その言è‘は数十ä¸äººの心を打ち、共されç¶ã‘ている。
ケインの死は、é³楽がすことができるものと、çすことができないものの境çç·について、ç§たちに問いかã‘ている。çえはない。ただ、彼の声だã‘が残る。
I don't know how to write this. I've started it four times.
Jericho Vale was my friend. He was the first person in this industry who treated me like I was already worth something, before I'd proven it to anyone including myself. We fought. We argued about everything — about what a song owed to the person listening to it, about whether honesty in music was a gift or a wound. He always said it was both and that was the point.
He showed me that you could be dangerously honest in a rock song and survive it. That you could put the worst thing about yourself into a lyric and come out the other side.
After Claire, I kept waiting for him to say something. Anything. He didn't. I called. He picked up but he didn't really talk. I should have gone there. I don't know if it would have changed anything. I'll be asking myself that for the rest of my life.
We were rivals in the way that only people who respect each other completely can be rivals. He pushed me because he thought I was worth pushing. He's the reason half the songs I've written exist.
I loved him. I'm going to miss him for the rest of my life.
— CD
I've been out a few weeks now. I wasn't going to say anything publicly. I wasn't ready to be in the world again, let alone say anything about it.
But Jericho died this morning. So here I am.
I'm not going to explain what the last few years have been. Most of you have heard versions of it. The version that's true is that I was in a very dark place and I made decisions that hurt people and I am trying to do better. What I will say is that during all of it, Jericho called. Not every week, not on a schedule — but he called. When I'd stopped answering everyone else. He called.
We were never simple with each other. We were competitive and difficult and we could be cruel in the way that only people who know each other very well can be cruel. But he never stopped believing I was worth something. Even when I didn't.
When Claire died I was still inside. I heard about it and I couldn't even send a message. He didn't know I knew. When I got out a few weeks ago, calling him was the first thing I was going to do. I was working up to it. I kept telling myself I'd do it tomorrow.
I don't have a new band. I don't have a plan. I have been out three weeks and I was trying to figure out what my life looks like now. I thought maybe I'd call Jericho and ask him what he thought.
I can't do that.
I'm coming out of the dark for him. I owe him that much.
If anyone is struggling today: please reach out to someone. 1-800-273-8255.
One month before Jericho Vale died, a man walked out of Souza-Baranowski Correctional Center in the rain.
He had been writing letters from the inside for two years.
He had a notebook. He had a theory. He had a name.
He thought he was the hunter.
He was about to find out what he really was.
Astor.
If you're reading this, which means that I'm not around to explain myself. I'm sorry for that.
You're the one. I don't know another way to say it. I've tried writing this letter four times and I keep finding different words for the same thing: it has to be you.
I made a mistake. I thought I could carry this. I thought if I understood it well enough I could fix it from the inside. I was wrong. The thing that was in Claire — it's still moving. It doesn't stop. And the only way you become what you need to become is if I'm not in the room.
I'm going to have to disappear.
That's not how I want it. But I think it's how it has to be.
Contact Nyx. She knows what comes next. She's been expecting someone like you. Do not open the second envelope before the ritual. I know you. I know what you'll want to do. Don't. The crown doesn't accept a transaction. It accepts a decision made in the dark, without knowing what you're deciding for. Trust the dark.
You were my best friend. You were also the person I was most frightened of. That probably means something.
— J.
Astor Benedict made his choice in the dark — without knowing who he was deciding for.
Discover who he saved.
Did it get under your skin? Tell us what you felt.