Figures of all shapes and sizes are circling around me like hungry vultures. One minute, they hurl threats and accusations my way, the other they are trying to lower my guard with calming reassurance. They think I can’t see through their armor of darkness, see them for what they really are!
He warned me about this, the angel warned me. He told me that the servants of The Wicked will come for me and my son’s happiness. After all, our newly discovered blessing is a thorn in their wrenched hearts and they will do anything in their power in order to diverge us from the only true path. However, I am no longer blind; I see through their convincing disguises.
How they plead, it's pathetic really. They want me to give in to darkness, so they can bind me with their satanic chains. Oh, they can slay me if they wished to, but they know that death will simply free my soul from this evil illusion. I shall not allow myself to be corrupted any longer, for my soul shall remain as clear as the drops of rain falling from above and crashing into the pavement that will shortly be my deathbed.
They attempt to obstruct my vision with flashing lights and break my determination with demonic chants, but they shall not deny me true happiness. Soon I will be with my child and the Gray Angel, looking from above at these monsters where their fake words cannot reach me.
I can see their eyes glowing with hatred, hatred for all things good and holy. They want to throw me in a cage with the rest of the scum and leave me to rot in darkness and filth. But I refuse to abide to the authority of these beasts, acting as the hand of justice.
Each time they try to close in the gap between us, I shine them away with the power of faith. But I am still waiting, waiting for a sign from the Gray Angel.
I look to the sky patiently, waiting for his divine wings to pierce the clouds and clear a path for my soul in the dark, stormy blanket. And when the time comes, I shall lift the silver revolver to my head and fire, freeing myself as I had freed my son.
My dear boy, I will leave my cursed shell and join you soon.
Mortimer Daniels was believed to be a part of a newly discovered cult that the media is yet to pick up on. On June 23, 2007, he shot his seven year old son while he was sleeping and then walked out in the middle of traffic, threatening that he was going to kill himself.
Police quickly arrived on the scene, attempting to convince Mortimer not to commit suicide, but the man appeared as though he was in a trance-like state, staring at the sky and chanting to himself.
After a two hour standoff Mortimer Daniels was finally apprehended, using a high voltage stun gun.
He is being restrained in a mental institution to this day, with no chance of recovery.
Written by Alex Murder