"Before Dawn"

Chapter 4: The Void

Deep within the bowels of a decades-old, out-of-commission ten-story factory, the imp-man is in a meditative state with his sheathed cane-sword by his side. His eyes are wide-open, and he sees nothing, feels nothing. He's weak and on his knees with his head bowed, his wings lowered and limp, and in total disposition of servitude. His humanoid-impish body is in this world, his vile spirit is in a state of levitation in another plane-of-existence—The Void—the place where he has direct communication with The Master.

It is the darkest-of-dark in The Void, save the intermittent flashes of red or blinding white light. There is no sound other than the unintelligible desperate whispers and moans of astral beings awaiting the ritualistic summoning of humans who seek them to serve their sinister purposes. Like the once imprisoned imp-man, some of those beings are looking for a way out. The imp-man had found his escape—thanks to a careless human dabbling in dark magic—but he could never truly escape The Void. He will forever be his master's link between here and humankind. The Void is a place where the imp-man would rather not be right now, as it is prison of empty purpose.

The imp-man had been waiting for his master to arrive as blood seeped from his fresh wounds. He's in pain, but it was nothing compared to the torture that his master had put him through for his past failures. His wounds are excruciating, yes, but it was worth it. He would have to get his master's attention quickly once he arrives, let him know the good news. Then they could move forward with—

The imp-man feels his master's presence materializing...here...in The Void with him. He feels his power, his ominous spirit, his malevolent divinity...all growing in strength. Growing, growing, growing.

The Master is here.

The imp-man shutters and greets him. "Great and powerful one," he said. He can feel the surge of contempt from his formless master.

"Where is the sacrifice, pathetic Servant?" The Master asks. His powerful voice offends the imp-man's body with a condescending reverence.

"I have no sacrifice to offer, Master," the imp-man responds. He quakes as the The Master's wrath begins rack his body. He can actually see what his master's torturous plans are for him.

"This does not bode well for you, Servant."

The imp-man feels a gigantic hand clamp around his neck with unforgiving pressure. He must speak quickly. "I found the girl," he wheezes. "We have drawn her and her father out." The vice grip around his neck loosens—slightly.

"Are you certain?"

"Yes, Master."

"I shall have a look to ensure that you are not mistaken. And if you are—"

The imp-man is sure of himself. He waits for his master to have a look. He feels The Master's life force pierce his skull and then his brain, deliberately and painfully. The imp-man wails, and no longer has control of himself. His master is purging his brain, his mind and recent memory. The imp-man views what his master is witnessing. He sees himself killing—and eating—the deer intestines. He sees the very moment that Dawn Morningside is on his trail, sees the relief of finally having found her after all these years. The imp-man through The Master's eyes continues to witness the spell he had cast on Dawn—the creeping things?

"Clever," The Master said. His voice booms inside the imp-man's head.

The imp-man smiles at the recognition, a rarity in his dealings with his master.

Then, The Master hears Bishop Morningside call out to his daughter. "Dawn...get up...Dawn...can you hear me?" The Master through the imp-man's eyes sees Bishop—but where's the old lady, the True Believer? No matter. The Master has seen enough.

The imp-man feels his master remove himself from his mind, and the grip around his neck vanishes.

"Finally, we have indeed found them," The Master said. "After so many years."

The imp-man is relieved. He can feel his master's evil grace tending to his wounds, healing him. His weakness is replaced by strength. "What is your bidding, my Master?" he asks, trying to hide his desire to exit The Void. He feels The Master's form begin to dissipate, his cue to set his master's long-awaited plans in motion.

"The temporary host?" The Master asked.

"I have the perfect vessel."

"Good. I will use that vessel to take me to that of Bishop Morningside's. And soon after, he will witness through his own eyes the death of his daughter. He will pay for his insolence and betrayal. I will peel the flesh from her body, rip out her organs, and grind her bones into dust. All of this will happen, so very, very, slowly," The Master said, the final billow of his presence disappearing like a vapor of smoke.

The imp-man's spirit is out of the void, and back in his fully-healed body. He stands and gives himself a once over. No wounds, just blood stains. He retrieves his cane-sword from the floor. He flaps his powerful wings, and his cloven feet leave the floor. In a matter of seconds, he's out of his adopted lair and flying through the muggy night. He's headed to Mary Immaculate Hospital to secure the corpse—the temporary host— before it expires.

The imp-man has never had any dealings with his master outside of The Void. He's intrigued and afraid about soon interacting with the great and powerful one in the flesh. Although he's fearful, he's excited about The Master's appealing plans for Bishop Morningside and the man's daughter, Dawn—especially her.