Hand of Satan (HoS)
- LETTURE 157
- Voti 1
- Parti 11
Tagmurder
He advanced, leering at her. ‘Some people call me a murderer,’ he suddenly whispered, more to himself. ‘Some call me an experimenter. Others, the Blood Prince. The Surgeon. The Judger of Sins. The Practitioner of Death. The Bringer of Hell. The Nightmare of England. The Shadow of Cuba. The Warlock of Tibet. The Necromancer of France. The Crazy and Loony Guy.’ He shook his head at that last one. ‘But they appeared to me in my sleep. In my dreams, they told me what to do. They told me why, and how, and how great an honour it would be. I am the Messenger of God, the Hand of Satan himself. Jesus would hide at me. There is no Hell worse than me. There are no nightmares. This is reality. I am reality. I am Death. Now, let your sins be judged. ’ He held his hands open, his scalpel in one hand, his eyes closed, and stopped.
They snapped open. His lips curled. He made his way towards her again. ‘God has sentenced you to Satan. I shall make the passageway there for you.’
WARNING: Very Messy Business. Do Not Read if you do not have the Stomach For This.
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