It had been an entire month. April was cold, but not as cold as she felt. The baby needed to die. There couldn't be records, nor evidence of what had occurred. Natalie Sutton had been through hell, both mentally and physically. Though her parents were finally back, and she was back in a world among other people, she hadn't been able to act normal.

Her parents worried. She was already under close watch when Jackson had "disappeared", but now Joseph was gone as well. She was being treated as a psycho, and she was beginning to believe it. The only time she would leave the house was to go to her now completely mandatory therapy, and she was a prime suspect in the disappearances.

Her house had been found a mess by her parents the day Joseph went missing, and he was proven to have been in the house, by fingerprints. Her mental state forbid them to question her fully, as she would break down. Everyone either thought she was a killer, or she could give insight on who it was. Her parents had left to purchase needed items such as food, which gave her some much needed alone time.

Natalie stood in her shower, water hot enough to turn her skin a colorful red. A month seemed enough to finish off the baby. All she needed to do was give herself a hard enough hit on the stomach, and hopefully she would see the blood rush out of her. That was her goal. The steam of the hot water flowed through the bathroom, fogging up the glass sliding door of the shower.

As she raised her hand for the first swing on her exposed stomach, a loud banging on the glass sliding door made her jump. She covered herself with her hands, expecting that her parents had come back and she hadn't noticed, and one had wandered into the bathroom. Her mind wouldn't let that thought stay, as all sorts of horrors flooded her mind, taking over the reasoning.

Her mind wouldn't keep all the fun to itself. A hand pressed up against the glass, palm spread wide. She yelled in fear as she huddled into the corner and covered herself. The sliding glass door slid to the side. Terrible reminders and flashbacks began a hostile takeover of her head.

When the door opened, the smell of lavender and smoke filled the shower, causing her to look up at the intruder. Short, slicked back black hair and pale blue eyes looked down at her, his tan skin sticking out from the steam. His deep, soothing voice began to leave his chapped lips. His black charcoal colored suit was the clearest thing in the room to see.

"I'm not here for you, Natalie. If all goes well, this will be the last visit."

She felt oddly at home, but remained on guard. Standing, but still covering herself, she stayed in the corner. She was curious, but still defensive.

"Last visit? Who are you, and why are you here?"

The man pushed his hand forward, pointing at her stomach. As the water touched his flesh, it simply came off as if it was cheap makeup. It peeled off like a liquid of its own, smacking against the floor of the shower. All that was left was bone, somehow staying together as a single hand. She repulsed herself back to the wall of the shower.

"You can call me Mendes. I was an associate of Joseph. He may have told you about me, as is expected. I'm here to offer you a secondary route for that child you are thinking about executing."

"You're the one that lead us back there and had Joseph killed! You're the one that had this... thing happen!" she said pointing to her stomach. With a playful sigh, he took his hand away from her.

Poking through his head were two horns, but no blood came through the fake skin. The horns eventually split into many points, and soon both sides had five points. The fake skin simply fell to the ground as clear water.

His true self had been revealed. His body a skeleton under the suit, and his head a deer skull. The eyes had fallen out as well, leaving dark holes in their place. Within the skull was still a tongue, allowing him to speak.

"I am no longer working under that fiend's plans. Another creature, one whom can understand human pain and enlightenment, attempted to show me the way years ago in your time. Within these last moments, I've had a lapse of judgement. I have chosen to accept his plan above the lord Enki's. I'm here for an offer, nothing else. I offer you sanctuary in your home, Natalie. You'll be free from the fate that has been decided for you."

She didn't respond, out of shock from seeing the transformation take place.

"I want that child. The Tormentor wants his child with you. We can't let it be here, and you have it. If you were to simply give it to me, you would have served your purpose. The Tormentor would not need you again, and you could finally find your peace."

"How do you expect me to give it to you, without anyone finding out what you had fucking caused!"

"It's very easy. You allow me to force the child to be born now. The child will be born immediately. I hand it over to someone else to watch, someone not in Tutelo. You are then cut free."

"And what about my mental state? Joseph? There are things you can't give me back!"

Mendes picked up a much more stale tone.

"This isn't about you, this is about the bigger image. If you don't hand this child over, Enki will have won. You can't simply kill this creature whilst it is inside of you, for it will not die until you do. It is living off of you like a parasite, and will simply reform. It won't be a long birth, as the child is hardly a fetus, and that is only because it is growing extremely fast. It'll be no worse than your abortion, which would have failed, I might add."

Her muscles became weak. Sliding down to the ground, her emotions took over. This being had lead to death, rape, and much more psychological pain than imaginable. All of this was true, but this was her only way to even hope to find peace. She looked at Mendes, almost completely broken.

Her resolve had stayed strong during so much over the last year, but all of it confronting her at once was enough to cause her to shatter away like a smashed mirror. She looked at Mendes, and nodded her head towards him. Tears escaped her eyes, but no noise escaped her mouth.

He had gotten her to agree.


Marington. A very spacious town to the South East of Tutelo. Houses on the outer skirts of Cook forest itself, it was only four miles from Tutelo. Marington was majorly used as a camp site due to the location, but some people chose to live. People mostly wanting isolation and space. It was a small town of only 15 houses and some places to get gas and food in hunt and game lands, technically below Cook forest park, but still part of the same forest.

Michael Asher appeared to be the average young man. Twenty-two years old, short brown hair, five feet and ten inches tall, he was very casual and comfortable looking. Dressed in a brown leather jacket and old jeans, he was very normal for this area.

He felt the odd sensation of smoke, and the smell of vanilla blew around him. Suddenly he came back from his daydream, holding a cigar. He was sitting in his black leather chair, which was across from the television. Next to his chair was a leather couch, and at his feet a deer skin rug. All that was on the television was some show about disturbing jobs no one wanted to do except those born into it. This segment was on butchering pigs.

Michael lived in a wooden house in the sticks, with his only way to leave being the road right in front of his doorway. It was a main road that lead away from the trees to the right, more cabin like houses to the left, and up to Tutelo. The three way road was very convenient to get around. Most people would use a place like this as a camp, but it had water, electricity, and space. It was good enough for Michael.

Fully coming back to reality, he noticed he wasn't alone. Jonah Uriel sat on his couch, also holding a cigar. He was holding it in such a way that it appeared to be a toast. Michael copied with his own cigar awkwardly, and Jonah drew his back.

"New job, remember? The lumber company?"

It all came back to Michael. Jonah had gotten a new job, and he had come over to celebrate it with some of his own cigars. Jonah was a relaxed man. His blond hair grew a bit past his ears, and was rather messy. He must have been in a hurry to relax, because his suit was still on.

Blue and white, with a charcoal black tie. The tie was undone, and the buttons of the suit were open. The interview was a few days back. Jonah either kept the suit on, or put it back on for this occasion.

Michael placed his cigar in the right corner his mouth, and blew the smoke out the other side.

"Another set of long months with crappy pay. But, hey, at least you can move out of that shitty apartment and get yourself a better place," he joked.

Jonah hit him in the arm with a sarcastic laugh. Michael let out a small laughter as well, before standing up.

"I'm going to get a drink. You want one, party boy?"

Jonah waved his hand in a way that basically shrugged him off.

"Your fridge is empty. You forgot to get drinks for the celebration!" he said. Michael knew he was just trying to tease him.

"I've got a cooler. I didn't forget anything. It's just in my room, beside my bed."

His house was rather small. The door to the bedroom was right behind the chairs. The bathroom was connected to the bedroom, and the kitchen was right beside the front door. The kitchen was only separated from the main room because of a half wall.

"Why are your drinks beside your bed?"

Michael opened the newly stained wood door.

"Alcoholic reasons," he joked as he walked through, leaving the door open.

A king sized bed only used by one, facing another, thick television. Brown sheets and blankets, white pillows, and right beside the bed, a closet. Living in hunting territory, he always had his 30 aught 6 hanging on the wall in its case. A machete was held in its sheath by nails, working as a rack.

Taking a closer look at his bed, be sprung into action. The reflected light from the other room, even in the dark bedroom, lit up the bronze of a small, flat bronze face. It sat right on the floor, besides the bed. Michael picked it up and hastefully put it between the bed frame and the mattress.

A very familiar voice to him echoed through his head.

"Nothing is hidden that will not be made manifest, nor is anything secret that will not be known and come to light..."

Michael took a step back and flicked the light switch, lighting up the room. He thought back to the voice in his head.

"You appointed me to make the icon as a way to summon you to a specific location, not a way to alert others to your presence," he thought back in a respectful, mannered tone.

"I was not referring to the icon. Your time of service has finally come. It is now that you will prove you are of great use to me."

Michael's heart raced. It had been a bit over a year since he had gotten a new task. His blood ran warm, and he became nervous.

"Anything, Lord Ereshkigal..."

"The time has arrived. The offspring has been delivered, and now it shall be upon you. Mendes, your false lord, has betrayed me. He has taken the child from the mother, whom I demand it stays with. You shall be the one to deliver it back to the one whom birthed the child."

"Why would Mendes betray you like this? What purpose does it serve him?"

"It appears he does not wish to follow my plan, using his accursed free will against me. He seems to have different intentions, that will force an issue to rise. He has taken the baby from the mother. The mother was to be stuck with the child, until you developed love for it. She was to come to another realm and teach the child whilst no other could. The baby was to have a mother. A human mother. It is best to know your prey."

"You could teach the baby just the same as her, my lord."

The voice in Michael's head grew ever more dastardly.

"I had you design a perfect facility for a reason. I had you create an area in which the child and mother could prosper for a reason. All I do and say has perfect reason, that you will know as you go along with your journey. Mendes was my deal-maker. I honor my deals, though twists can be given. You will bring the child back to her."

Michael bowed his head to the ground, and lowered himself to one knee. He laid his arms forward, towards the air. His loyalty was unmatched by any other at this time.

From the air, a figure of absolute shadows manifested. It was a humanoid figure with many arms growing off it like a centipede, but it stood hunched over. The brightness of the room gave a contrast against the shadow that could bother any pair of eyes.

From within itself, the shadow pulled something out. It was red, and appeared to be covered in some sort of slime. Michael at first thought it was a heart, but as the shadow handed it to him, it became more obvious what it was.

In the two, seemingly fusing hands of the figure was a red, apparently skinless fetus like creature, small enough to fit in Michael's palm. The head of the child was revealed bone, and the skeleton looked like it was attempting to press its way out of the baby.

A small tail, only about two inches, stretched from between the baby's legs, with some sort of metallic end to it, resembling a serrated blade. Thankfully, it wasn't sharp enough to accidentally cut him. The goo-ish excretion was thick and glue-like, sticking his fingers together.

"Your child is magnificent, lord. How will I know who to bring the child to exactly?"

The shadow dissipated into nothingness, before the voice returned.

"You have met her before. I know you remember the face of Natalie Sutton. Once you are able, I will transport you into my reality. There, no one will be around to witness this child, or your transportation."

"The same way you make sure your targets don't get help during your hunts," he added.

"Exactly the same method."

"The dead and other beautiful abominations of the other realm didn't bother your targets for fear of your divine wrath. What about your servant? Since you aren't targeting me, will they-"

"They will not harm you. You have been there before. They know your scent. They know your aura. You will be fine. When you reach Tutelo, you will be granted the ability to pull one person into this reality. Natalie herself. It is there you will deliver the child. You know the domain. Mendes showed it to you last month, after Natalie was impregnated."

"The apartment. Your wish is my command."

Lifting his head, he took the small fetus-like child and placed it in his closet. His jackets and coats were hanging, and quickly thinking, he placed the child in the pocket of a torn jean jacket. He rubbed the slime substance on the jacket next to it, and closed the door.

Grabbing the cooler, he lifted it by both handles. As he walked to his door, he heard the voice of Enki once more, seemingly beside his closet, speaking to the child.

“Before I formed you in the womb I knew you, and before you were born I consecrated you; I appointed you a prophet to the nations...”

Michael balanced the cooler on his left hip and opened the door.


Jonah was still sitting in the couch, smoking away.

"Sorry I took so long. Believe it or not, I had a bit of trouble finding the cooler," Michael said, seemingly rushed.

"Too long? If that's what you call a long time, you must be one hell of a worker!" Jonah said with another playful laugh.

The television was not only still airing the show about disturbing jobs, but it was still on the same segment on pigs. It appeared as if he was gone for a minute maximum.

Michael knew what Enki was capable of. This type of time anomaly was nothing new to him at all. He walked around to the front of his seat, and put the cooler on the deer skin rug between the two. Sitting down in his chair, he flipped the top.

Several white cans of beer sat in the cooler, surrounded by water and ice. Some had a copper-colored strip on the top. Jonah leaned forward and pulled one out, before reading the label out loud.

"Malhorn's home style light beer."

Michael pulled out one without the strip on top.

"Light beer, for your light ass," he mocked.

As he closed the lid, Jonah signaled to stop making any noise with his finger. Nothing.

"Is something wrong, man?" Michael said.

After a moment, he put his finger down, and cracked open his drink.

"Just thought I heard something."

"Deer walk around here all the time. Don't worry about it."

It wasn't the best excuse, but it's all his quick thinking could bring up.

"So, how do you think someone lands with this job?"

It was obvious Jonah was still distracted, but at least the excuse was enough to get him to switch conversations.

"The same way you just got yours. Money speaks, and people answer."

The new found peace in the room broke, when a smacking sound came from his room. It was muffled through the doors of both the closet and bedroom, but it still stood out.

Michael needed an excuse to return to the room and find a way to quiet the child. Thinking of a believable reason to go even though he was just there, he had to find some sort of a scapegoat.

Scratching. The terrible sound of a blade against the wooden walls of the cabin. Jonah stood up and faced the door to Michael's bedroom, causing Michael to stand as well.

"It's an old house. It makes noises. Can we just sit down and have a few drinks, Jojo?"

"You sound uneasy," Jonah said, losing his nerve. Being the voice of reason wasn't always his strong suit. "Just a mouse. Let's get it out of the house, and then we can drink, ok?"

Michael knew what he had to do if Jonah saw the fetus, and he didn't want to at all. He had to place his mission and purpose above a single friend, but this was a special friend.

"I'll get it. Just stay back and watch whatever you keep watching."

He didn't have to ask twice. Jonah sat right back down and put his drink to his lips. Michael put his hand on the back of his chair and threw himself over, stretching his arms to each side when his feet touched the ground.

"Ta-da! The mystical Michael himself, right here performing for you, sir!"

Jonah did not seem amused. More likely distracted by the same noise he heard. Putting his arms down, Michael turned to the door. The doorknob was just as cold as before, but his hand was slightly sweaty from having to hide something living, and making noise, from his friend.

Any second wasted was a second capable of having Jonah give up and go after it himself, so waiting around wasn't an option he wanted to take. Pushing himself through the door, he made sure to close it behind him, even before turning on the light.

When the light came on, the closet door was opened slightly. Making his way to it, it was apparent the noise was the child falling from the coat. He looked around frantically for any signs of movement.

The bed's blankets were slightly unorganized, and pulled to the side. The sheet was revealed, but didn't seem to be lifted as well. No out of place objects around the room to give any sign or clue.

As he started to get more anxious, he noticed movement. A serrated knife like tail waved its way back beneath the bed, and the thick goo excretions were slathered from the closet to under the bed, getting thicker the closer it got.

Michael knew he had to hide the baby again, and fast. No one could know about him, the child, or his mission to get it to its mother. He moved his hands towards it, to pull it out from under the bed.

The door began to creak open.

Once Blood Is Spilt...

Michael pushed with both hands as fast as he could, forcing the child out of sight. The door was fully opened just as he pushed, and Jonah stepped in.

Other than Michael's fast movement, Jonah also realized the long stretch of slime, leaving the closet and leading to the bed. Inching his way forward, right hand against the wall.

"Are you alright? he asked, beyond scared at this point.

Michael had no choice but to attempt to play it off and get Jonah to leave. If Jonah found out about any of this at all, there would be no options left.

"I'm fine. I dropped my phone. You scared me when I was looking for it, is all."

Lifting his left hand, Jonah pointed to the trail of goo.

"And what about that?"

"Bad masturbation habits. I think I heard your phone buzz. You want to go check it?"

"My phone's in my pocket..." Jonah responded cautiously.

Childish attempts to trick him wouldn't work. A familiar thirst he had picked up in his time worshiping Ereshkigal started to arise in him, but he had to fight it the best he could.

He started to get angry and stale in his words, pointing Jonah out of the room. Saving his friend was certainly a goal, but the more the hunger took over, the more he realized it wasn't mandatory.

"Can you leave me alone for five minutes?"

"Can you not be so secretive? I can only take so much of your tone before I lose it, Mike."

Jonah betrayed his entire personality. He walked forward in defiance, and slowly pushed Michael out of the way, bending over to look under the bed. With no hesitation, Michael stood up and walked towards the door.

Jonah's eyes widened as he yelled.

"Oh my god! Michael, what is this thing?" he said frantically.

Michael knew he was obviously talking about the baby. If Jonah wasn't so preoccupied freaking out about the infant, he might have noticed to door's lock clicking shut. Michael reached to the machete on the wall, whilst Jonah pulled his arms out from under the bed.

He was holding the infant in both hands like a prized possession, hyperventilating as the slime dripped between his fingers. The skinless baby began to shriek softly from the disruption, but not enough to hurt his ears. It was more like a dog's cry. It had shown emotion.

Michael pulled the machete off of the wall and carefully walked his way to Jonah from behind. One wrong move and the well being of the child was at risk.

That was unacceptable.

Eventually he was right behind Jonah, who was still bent over and holding the baby. The baby was shrieking and flailing its arms in a flawed attempt to free itself. Michael raised his right arm, bringing the machete past his head. The feeling of absolute blissful sin slightly wore down when he realized this was a friend of his again.

"I'm sorry, Jonah," Michael murmured in the same tone a pet owner would say to their dog as it was put down.

Jonah let go of the child with one hand, but tightened his grip with the other. Turning his head he caught a terrifying glimpse of the swinging blade, as it lodged itself in the left side of his neck.

A wet, guttural sound of his life's liquid leaving his body with the sharp metal blade cut through the tension, along with his throat. His eyes rolled back into his head as he let the child go, grabbing his throat with both hands.

The warm river of red, thick life force rushed from his fingers, leaking down his shirt. The slightly metallic scent of both metal and rust that his blood caused started to put Michael back in his chaotic state, but the thought of his friend dying combated it.

He had nothing to do but drop the machete to the floor and fall on his ass beside his bed. He made a light splash when he landed in the expelled fluid, now eye level with Jonah. He was confused, but knew it was what he had to do to assure the mission stayed undisturbed.

"You weren't supposed to know," he said, sympathetically.

Jonah didn't try to choke Michael with his last seconds. He didn't try to hurt him, or the baby. Instead, he lowered himself. He placed his head over Michael's lap. Michael took him, and laid him across his legs, with his head right below his stomach. He ran one hand over the wound, whilst supporting Jonah's head with the other.

Jonah slipped out of consciousness fairly quickly. With the warm blood leaking all over Michael's pants and the bottom of his shirt. He only continued to whisper to himself, as if Jonah was still able to hear him.

"You weren't supposed to know..."

White Fawn of Mendes

As he ran his hand over Jonah's wound, machete beside him, and behind Jonah. The wet texture of the fatal injury faded away as rough muscle exposed itself through the liquid more and more. The baby that Jonah was once holding crawled on his corpse from his leg, stopping at his chest.

The child began to push at Michael's hand, moving it away from the wound. He fought back at first, until he heard a slam sound throughout his house that was large enough to shake the floor.

He, and the child, sat in dead silence. Stiffened and apparently on guard, they both straightened their posture.

The slam filled the air again, and was obviously something wooden being opened and closed. Grabbing the machete with his right hand, he gently slid out from under Jonah's head, which now sat on the ground. He stood up, as the baby crawled up to Jonah's face, sniffing it like a wild animal investigating another animal.

Stepping out of the gore on the ground, which he was also splattered and covered in at this point, he inched his way to the door. He'd already killed once to protect his mission, and he'd do it again. Whom died didn't matter. He'd even kill himself if he wasn't essential to the success of the mission.

Finally, a familiar noise. It being familiar did not mean comfortable, though. The call of a deer, specifically a male, was right in his living room. There was no way a deer could have opened his locked front door, nor entered through his living room window. His suspicions proved right once the dark, deep breathing began. It sounding as if someone had been having breathing problems, mixed with an aggravated bear.

Stepping towards his bedroom door, he put his ear up against the wood. Each step caused the wooden floor to make a knocking sound, with tension boiling in his new found cold blood. After a few moments of nothing, he was forced to recoil back when a heavy scratching came from nowhere, right on the other side of the door. As the door was scratched, the lamp in the bedroom flickered on and off. The darkness took over the room momentarily, before the darkness, and scratching came to a complete stop.

He tightened his grip on the machete and lifted it, stepping back to kick the door. He took one hard look at his friend's body, and his master's young, before he was ready for anything. There was no chill in his spine, no tears in his eyes, only survival for the spawn.

He flew forward towards the door, kicking it as hard as he could. He didn't break the door off its hinges, but it did break the lock and the area of the wall keeping it locked. The door flew to the left, and Michael immediately swung his machete towards the middle of whatever dark figure was towards his right. All he saw was that it was pitch black.

Right as he finished, he felt the cold, boney hands of an old ally grasp his neck and pull him towards it, slamming him towards the wall. His back smacking against the firm wood. From his peripheral vision he could see that his door was broken and lying on the floor, explaining the slam. The first must have been a failed attempt to bash it open.

In his center vision, he saw the white deer skull he should have expected, tinted slightly yellow with age. The dark cloak it wore staying completely motionless despite Michael's attempts to free himself from Mendes' grasp. He still held on to his machete.

The bottom jaw of Mendes' skull lowered itself, revealing several teeth were missing. Cracked and tinted, he had been in far better shape when he was at a good standing with Ereshkigal.

"Do you have any idea what you are on your way to accomplish, little root?" he said, aggressive and firm.

The grasp on his neck was tight enough to hold him against the wall, but not tight enough to cut off his breathing.

"Serving my master, as you should, elde-"

He was cut off by Mendes releasing him from his grasp and turning around, waving his hand in disgust.

"You risk life and limb, be it from yourself or all of humanity, for something that lives to be worshiped? Is there no honor in you, seedling?"

Michael rubbed his neck with his left hand, still firmly holding the machete in the other.

"I, and everyone else, already owe our life and limbs to Ereshkigal. There isn't much more to it. You were my master as well, Mendes, if you forgot. You decided to betray his will on your own accord."

Mendes slowly turned himself back to Michael, speaking as he did. His voice began to escalate, sounding as if it was falling apart, right into a dark, drastic tone.

"Have you no conscious? No protective will for your race? So willing to serve the one whom would see it extinct, but when your true, original master has a revelation towards saving your people, you stand so firmly against him."

"You weren't meant to be good, Mendes! You were the balance!"

"Your species is on the verge of knowledge the universe would be better with, than without. You are prepared to stand against me, as I am prepared to stand against Ereshkigal. Both of us willing to take any means necessary to achieve our goal."

The grip of the machete began to hurt against Michael's hand. The studded rubber digging in and imprinting itself, he was holding it with such force his hand was completely covered in red from being strained.

"What about the child? You know I will protect it from you."

Mendes was no longer restraining himself. Opening his cervine mouth, he let out a grunt comparable to fighting deer. Taken aback, Michael swung the machete. Unsurprisingly to him, the machete passed straight through Mendes. Apparently, he hadn't lost his power.

"You have no idea of the capabilities of the creature you're protecting, sapling! You bring an assimilator towards the mother, with no care for the natural order!"

"Assimilator?" Michael asked, pushing himself up against the wall.

"The creature eats. It devours. Using the material it eats, it will grow. If it eats metal, it could use the metal on its body any way it wished. Flesh, bone, eyes, it does not matter. It holds the ability to devour metal and morph itself using it in any way it wishes. It is starting this process with Jonah as we speak. The process works majorly by vomiting, or expelling, white stomach bacteria acids, and sucking the broken down material back into its body for immediate assimilation. This process is much like the eating behavior of a fly. The cells are met with engineering cells, which move the organic material to a desired location, before giving a signal to them that tells the body how to shape them."

Michael was still loyal to his master. His true master. Ereshkigal had been part of his mind since he had been sentient. Never had Ereshkigal failed him nor betrayed him. He was cared for, he was taught, and he was proud of that.

"This speak of infants has me questioning my own origins. Every time you two spoke of why i was chosen, there was a detectable amount of holy bullshit. I believe I deserve to know."

"I chose you, Enki and I chose you to survive, because we knew your potential as a follower. You exist as a tool for the greater outcome. Something about your soul caught our attention. Almost like it called to us. Like seeing an abandoned infant on the sidewalk, we knew we had both agreed that you would serve well."

From his living room window, a white shape took over. Two antlers spread to each side, 7 points each. A white deer was on the outside of the window looking in, directly at Michael. As if it was in unity with Mendes, they both shared the same stare. Dead, dull, and haunting.

"How did you get here, anyways?" he questioned.

"Your deal brought you to his own alternate version of your reality. I'm sure he didn't organize that death, either. He would never do something like that to a follower, would he?" Mendes mocked. "Welcome to Panthalassa, murderer."

Michael snapped inside. He could feel his anger building up, and his temperature felt as if it was sky rocketing.

"I am not a murderer, you cradle of useless bones! I did as you, and Ereshkigal commanded throughout life!"

"And if is at this point that you act out of character. Why is it that you do not cannibalize or commit necrophilia when it is Jonah? Obviously your morality is in some way, shape, or form, still active in your servant mind. You treat those of your care differently."

"I cared for Jonah enough to respect him in his death. All you do is stand in my way, cheating to win any dispute you have through manipulation. What is your goal here? What is your endgame?"

"You will exit to bring the child to Natalie. That much is certain. Upon exiting, you will see that the world is not as it was before. Enki did not lie to you about transporting you to his paradise, Panthalassa. Here, you have two routes. Free will grants you these. You can join me in saving your race from his tyranny, preserving all love and knowledge your species can bestow, or continue to follow Enki."

"And if I follow Enki?

"I will stop you. I will kill the child, and I will find Natalie. I will melt her clitoris to the rest of her foul corpse, and allow maggots to harvest her vaginal trench as both a food source, and a new home. Her slimes and liquids will allow for the feast of the ages, with entry being gifted to every dastardly being in this realm. She will be the whore and the feast, to both necrophiliacs and those whom simply go hungry. I will destroy your high places, and cut down your images, and cast your carcasses upon the carcasses of your idols, and my soul shall abhor you."

The white cervine in the window stopped making eye contact with Michael at this point. It simply looked forward, and walked away from the window. Michael and Mendes were locked in a deathly stare and state of silence, which Mendes broke.

"I do not wish to kill you, little root. You have been good to me. It harms me that you would prefer the route of extinction over enlightenment, and I am positive you understand my interests. If anyone can, it would be yourself. Should you chose the other side, I have no choice. Once you are far enough away from the pact that allowed you entry to Pathalassa, I will assault.

"Ereshkigal shall overpower you in that assault."

"I may be unable to kill him, but I can certainly hold off against him long enough to ensure a future."

Michael, in a sign of both respect and war, raised his machete to his forehead.

"To conflict it is, old lord."

Mendes responded only with a mimic.

"To conflict it is."

As Michael lowered his machete, Mendes put his head down. Starting at the eyes and mouth, smoke began to pour out. The smoke expanded to the floor, coloring everything black. Micheal moved back towards the bedroom door slowly, as more smoke came from the holes.

Eventually leaving every joint on his body, Mendes began to fade away with the smoke, peeling away layer by layer. Outside of the bone, to the marrow, to the cloth itself, the smoke eventually dissipated into the air. Mendes was gone.

Micheal was at his door when he turned around to check on the baby, filled with urgency. He turned around, and practically ran back into the room.

Into the Icon of Evil

The light of the lamp showed that Mendes was not lying. A good portion of Jonah's face had been melted via a white substance flowing from the infant's mouth. Bone, flesh, muscle, all taken over by the acidic substance. The baby itself was producing an odd sound, similar to that of clogged drain, and running water.

Michael watched as the baby sucked the white liquid back up, right into its mouth. It seemed to now have several rows of teeth, all of which sharp. Measuring about 3 feet tall if it was standing, it revealed, by moving, it had also devoured several large chunks from Jonah's abdomen. The tail was now tipped with a long, several inch line of bone, similar to a hypodermic needle.

Colors ranging from purple, to red, and most pronounced, yellow, essentially glowed as they hung from inside of the corpse. The fat and organs hung and held each other like a colony of worms, slithering whilst they relieved their pressure. The scent of death was non-existent. The only smell was that of burning cloths as the bile ate away at the already dead man.

Michael's own primal hunger for flesh grew, only held back by the thoughts of his old companion. He'd tasted the flesh of others before, and the taste similar to young calf hung around him for life. It was an ecstasy he would love to partake in once more.

It had been over half a year since he last tasted the tender meat of another human, a taste he picked up from Enki himself a long time ago, one of the tests to check if his morality was over his faith. A secret, along with his more exotic sexual tastes. Officially a mind taken from the source. It started with animals, raw and rarely cooked. A showmanship of faith. After a very short amount of time, humans became involved. The location he lived in was perfect for this hunger, animals especially.

He fought it. He tried his best, and he fought it. Rushing the corpse, he pulled the child from the body, and directed it to the door. It would have been slightly under half as tall as him if it was walking with two legs. It made its way to the door at the same pace he did, looking behind itself.

Grabbing the 30 aught 6 with his right hand, still holding the machete with his left. He knew the gun was loaded. Someone as paranoid as him wouldn't ever leave his home without a defense. With two large steps, he was outside of the room. As the godseed followed, he kicked the door closed behind him, and started his walk to the front door.

Putting his gun under his arm, as he also did with the machete, he grabbed his keys off of the kitchen table. Walking through the already busted open door, he and the child stepped outside of the house for the first time all night.

Visibly different would have been an understatement. The sky swirled and shifted as if it was a vortex of clouds, glowing dark purple and blue. The light reflected off of everything, forcing a permanent glow in the night. Trees had no leaves in the January wind for it to blow around, but thorns the size of kitchen knives served just as well.

The grass was a heavily saturated red, and the wind blew hot on his skin. In the distance, creatures moaned and shifted through the trees, their bright skin showing between the trees.

In the sky, several large beings, which he estimated must have been 30 feet in length, flew in the air. Two large wings and two smaller ones behind them, they swirled with the vortex as lightning shifted out of the center, to the ground somewhere far off. It still shook the ground as if it was a powerful aftershock.

Today was not about them. Jogging to his truck, he unlocked the door, and threw the machete behind the two seats. Light grey with some applied chrome, the vehicle was parked next to another, one blue and grey, whilst also smaller. The other one was Jonah's. Both parked side by side in a gravel driveway.

The infant caught up to him, and allowed him to lift it. Reaching over to the other seat, he sat the baby down. Of course it tried to wonder and search around the vehicle, but after Michael got it, this act stopped.

Silence would have been a bliss, if not for the twisted moans and cries of distant lifeforms. Putting the keys into ignition as he sat down, he turned on the vehicle. Backing out, he pulled away from the house, leaving Jonah's corpse, memory, and vehicle behind.

It's All Just a Theory

Turning the truck around, he headed directly across from his house, straight up the road. The left and right path were useless to him. The house, along with all unnatural light, disappeared in the rear view mirror. Only 4 miles until Tutelo.

As he sped away he thought of how short of a trip was left. He wondered about what Mendes had said, and what would happen when this creature grew. The assimilator. His faith and loyalty to Enki, Ereshkigal, or The Tormentor as Pueri Diabolum had called him, outlasted all love and loyalty he could possibly feel.

If the assimilator grew, how long would it take to complete its mission? How long until humanity was devoured by this cornerstone of Ereshkigal's plan? A year? A decade? No, no, no! There had to be another reason Enki wanted his seed on Earth. He always promised multiple paths.

A white flash served perfectly to distract him. Between the trees to his left, white fur stood out between the blue and purple. The lightning itself couldn't reach this hue. Again, it was the white deer. This cervine, or one like it, had already made itself suspicious.

Though when he glanced over it was never moving, it somehow made its way forward at the speed of the truck every time he looked away.

Three miles.

The road bounced the vehicle up every few seconds. These roads were not the best maintained, as to be expected. Dirt and rock always proved to be a bad driving combination. As he struggled to keep his eyes forward, the child scratched at itself, right across the face.

With his right hand, he pushed on the child to get it to stop. The baby lost a bit of its balance, snapping back at Michael, as if to playfully threaten him.

Again, the flashes of white continued, though this time, on both sides. He had to keep his eyes forward. There was no reason to be distracted. He had a goal, and it was almost reached.

His radio turned itself on, and continued to play, regardless of Michael hitting it on both the radio face and the power button. The old fashioned singing matched with trumpets should have been comforting, and would have in any other situation, but not it was only getting darker outside, with the lightning starting back up once more. The smooth voice of a swinger-esque man filled the car.

"...And on a blue moon, I'll see you, with me your shinin' bright-" the man sung.

Michael couldn't even recognize the song, nor the vocalist. There was no reason to get any sort of signal on any device here.

"-And when the sun's red, I'll find you, with me your shinin's runnin' out..."

Two miles.

The radio began to distort, with static replacing the trumpets. The voice changed drastically in tone, but it was obviously still the same man.

"For without I, are dogs, and sorcerers, and fornicators, and murderers, and idolaters, and whoever loves and makes a lie."

At the speed he was going, he had to slow down. The radio seemed to fully turn off, and the white flashes had all halted. The trees only became thicker and the swirling mass of clouds above only became more hostile with lightning strikes, oddly enough curving back up instead of touching the ground, flying into the center of the massive tornado-like event.

Half way there, and yet he only felt farther than when he had started. As he drove, the radio turned back on. Thankfully, a familiar voice. His lord, his king. Ereshkigal spoke to him once more.

"Son of the kingdom, you've accepted a mission, and now thou shalt be tested fully. You were given two goals, and one is ready to be completed. Should I have not given you this warning, thou surely would have been killed off guard. Slow the automobile. Your path is open where the trees are as well."

"What other goal did I accept? How would I die?" he questioned. He halved the truck's speed.

He waited and waited, as the part in the trees grew closer and closer, until he was right beside it. No response from the radio. The world, on the other hand, responded fully. One of the lightning strikes finally made ground right in front of the truck by only a few dozen yards, causing him to slam on the breaks.

He smashed his body into the steering wheel, dazing him. When he looked up, the child was looking around all over, twitching its neck as if it was an insect.

"Your path is open where the trees are," he thought to himself, repeating what Ereshkigal had said.

Directly to his right, there was a path between the trees. It wasn't long, as he could already see there was an opening on the other side. Only about five feet of a walking distance through the path.

He locked all the doors and took the keys out of the car to make sure the child wouldn't follow him. Grabbing the rifle and machete, he held them both under his arm as he stepped out of the car, slamming the door behind him.

Walking around the car, he was already at the path. This was far too perfectly lined up to be any sort of coincidence. It was as if every single move he made so far was a choice in a game of chess, all monitored and already chosen by others.

He knew he couldn't fire the rifle with one hand, but had no sheath for the machete. If he needed to shoot, he'd drop the blade. If he needed to swing, he'd swap hands. It was all he had, because he didn't want to be down a weapon, especially one for long and short range.

Stepping into the path, he felt cold. A perfect canopy was over his head of thorns and branches, thick enough to cover the walk way. Stepping forward, shifting began to each side of him. He dropped the rifle and put the machete in his right hand he spun around in a circle. The truck doors were still shut, and he could see the child looking back at him through the window.

Creeping up his leg was an odd sensation, until he looked down. It was a vine-like species of plant, fully bright green, nearly neon. One from behind and one in front of him, as each side of the path was to his left and right.

Working their way up, the vine behind him went to his shoulder, before it stopped contact. The one in front of him must of had different intentions, as it began to rub over his inner thigh and under his pants.

With a recoil at the sensation of touch, he sliced through this vine with the blade. Unexpectedly, a squeal similar to that of a pig filled the air, and the "plant" lost its neon color, now dark green. Blood flushed out of the, well, whatever it was as it rushed back into the forest.

He spun around and sliced the other, only after hearing his gun land on the outside of the path, rather far away. It had thrown it away from him. The vine, tentacle, tendril, whatever it was, hit the ground, and met the same results as the last.

Rushing out of the path, he reached the other side. A large circle of no trees, with only dark purple and black flowers that reached half was up Michael's shin all over the ground. His rifle had landed somewhere in the flowers, which he supposed up to three houses could fit in.

Even in these dark colors and hues, a specific blackness stood out.


Beyond the flowers, right in the center of the field, Mendes stood. He was facing the other way, but any speculation towards if he knew Michael was here was solved as he spoke.

"I used to guard and protect the prophecies of Enki as well, little root. I would have been delivering the child to Natalie myself if the roles were reversed back then, but now is a different time," he said as he kept his head down and away, a sad tone taking him over.

Michael gripped the machete. If he couldn't find the gun, he needed a defense.

"And you chose another path. We've all been promised them by everyone we know, but unbeknownst to you is that the best path is not always one we want, nor ever consider doable."

There was a moment of silence, in which they both thought to themselves.

"I did not betray my lord for no reason. I have chosen new prophecy. Your people can live, they can expand, they can evolve. The things they could discover and embrace inside the universe free of Enki, and free of any doctrine. Imagine the possibilities, little root."

"Free from doctrines? You mean free from any point of living! Ereshkigal, the universe, can demand anything. Anything and all belongs to the universe, cervine. Why has Ereshkigal simply not banished, nor killed you yet?"

Mendes bent his head, looking over his shoulder toward Michael again, as if mimicking their encounter at his house. As they looked towards each other, men appearing as skeletons with hardly any meat and flesh on them, each carrying a stone as large as their torso walked through the woods, some wondering on to the field.

"We certainly have. I have been cursed with the feeling of pain, a feeling I never wished to feel again. He said it matched my sympathy, and that I could not have one without the other. As you may have remembered when he told you about Jackson, Natalie, and Joseph, he has full control of time here, and in your reality. I have been stripped of my powers to do so, and only retain those which I can use without altering the universe, him. He is also weakened, thus he needs his seed to be brought to this world. A secret which he didn't wish to spread."

"Ereshkigal is weakened? How is that possible?"

Mendes finally turned fully around, looking directly at Michael. Most of the men behind him were gone, but one was left behind. Accidentally dropping the stone he was holding, he dissipated as it hit the ground, letting out a foul scream of terror.

"The universe has moved past its prime. 13.82 billion years it was created, and it will not survive that same amount again. Each time a star in any of the realities connected to the universe, all of existence, dies out, he is weaker. Each time one is created, he is stronger. The more creation, the more power. The more destruction, the more chaotic. I, as the balance, was meant to assure he stayed in the middle, though for reasons you already know, I abandoned that prophecy."

"If he dies the universe would surely end!"

"No, if he dies he would be replaced, just as a new universe is born. Your species can not disappear like all the rest. Can't you see I've chosen the path of goodness?"

Mendes squeezed his hands in anger, as Michael answered as loyal to his lord as always.

"You weren't meant to be good, Mendes. You were meant to stop both sides of that spectrum."

Letting out a roar of pure rage, Mendes disappeared into a cloud of black smoke. Before Micheal could even react, he was spun around and hit from behind with a strong open palm strike to the face. The edges of the bone fingers dug in enough to bleed, but not enough to scar.

There was no time to retaliate as Mendes struck him again, before lifting him by the neck and throwing him to the other side of the field. He held on to the machete as he landed on his side, slowly attempting to stand up. A cloud of black smoke blinded him as he felt hooves dig into his ribs with a kick directly from the cervine would-be-god himself.

He immediately swung his machete towards where the ankles would be, but he, of course, teleported away just before the blade hit him. Michael forced himself up right away and began looking all around himself.

Again from behind, only this time he heard the plants shifting. Turning around, he looked at the deer skull on the beast's shoulders in the sockets, looking up at him. When Mendes attempted to swing his hand and land the sharp bones in Michael's throat, he was blocked with a machete blade down the center of his hand. When he returned to smoke to teleport away, it blinded Michael, forcing him to walk backwards into the center of the field.

"You have to cheat to accomplish anything!" he shouted, clearing the smoke from his eyes with his forearm.

"There is no enjoyment in his, young leaf. I would rather see you bloom into a savior, not a destroyer!" he heard from all around him as he felt another punch to the stomach, before catching a mouth full of smoke as he went to talk back.

Michael heard a large smashing sound from a pretty far distance away, enough to jolt him in even this situation. His feet brushed through the purple flowers, as he felt them graze against him. Coughing and rubbing his eyes, his foot hit something hard from within the soft flowers, and his heart rate shot up at what it must have been. He opened his eyes, though blurry, to search around.

Burning away at his adrenaline, he slashed to his side, where he felt some sort of hard resistance. He had hit Mendes in the arm with the blade. Towards the end of the swing Mendes grabbed his arm, digging his bones into his forearm. He had no choice but to drop his weapon and fall to his knees, with the 9 foot giant towering over him.

Mendes began to assault Michael with his other arm, fully enraged. More of a blunt force trauma than anything else, Michael felt himself slipping out of consciousness. He fought as hard as he could, knowing this would mean he failed both his lord, and neither he nor the child would survive.

He tried to stand, though he was forced back down by Mendes' split hand to his forehead. His forearm was set free, but he was weak. His head tilted back, he saw Mendes raise his own machete from the ground, aiming it towards his neck.

"A poetic justice for you and your friend. May you both find yourself in non-existence, perhaps to return one day."

Just as Mendes' arm began to swing, he was forced to the ground. The child had broken out of the car, which explained the loud noise. It tackled Mendes to the ground and began spewing its digestive vomit on his face, which started to corrode his skull, creating a series of small holes and openings in the bone.

Mendes threw the child off of him as Michael fell to the ground, he grabbing whatever his foot touched. As if it was destiny itself, he held his 30 aught 6 in his hands.

He immediately took a shot at Mendes as he stood back up, hitting him in the sternum. The spawn of Enki yelled in the high-pitched fashion of its father, with Mendes stopping in his spot. The storm was no longer raging above, the screaming from all around halted, and the wind only softly blew against the pair.

From all around the circular field, the white figures remained as Mendes was injured. Dozens of pure white deer, be it buck, doe, and even children, gathered around from the woods and entered the field, standing perfectly still and looking at Mendes and Michael.

They starred as flesh took over Mendes' body as the baby yelled, which had apparently granted mortality to Mendes. As the flesh reached his face, certain areas still showed bone, signed of the digestive acid burning him. The base of his chest bled through his robes, with the blotch of blood growing larger on him.

They starred quietly as Michael threw the gun to the flowers once again, and repeatedly struck Mendes on the skull, with another deer showing up with each attack. As he continued to strike his old master, his true master appeared behind Mendes. A figure of pure light magnificent spoke in a harsh tone, one filled with hatred and contempt.

"My child has made its choice, as it was supposed to. It chose to give mortality to Mendes and save you, rather than vise versa. You have two paths as well. Kill him, or banish him to his fate in the incubation chamber you once built. He shall either be fed to non-existence, or be tormented to all existence."

The figure of Enki grabbed Mendes' robes, ripping them off. His torso leaking blood onto the ground from his gun shot, the wound which subdued him.

Michael picked up the machete from the ground beside the Cervine deity, while Mendes was simply sitting in defeat. Even on his knees and bleeding out, he was still able to look Michael in the eyes. Before Michael could speak, Mendes glanced over at the baby and yelled into the careless wind.

"O daughter of Babylon, doomed to be destroyed, blessed shall he be who repays you with what you have done to us! Blessed shall he be who takes your little one and dashes them against the rock!"

Michael thought back to the entire day. He thought of Jonah. He though of his mission and what he had done. He thought of the encounter at his house, and thought about what both deities had told him that day.

"You are cast out from the heavens into the depths!" he shouted in a shocking moment of victory as he swung the machete down upon Mendes, his fully fleshed out and now fur covered head recoiling with it, slashing across his face deep enough to reveal pink meat.

With a rumble, the ground opened up behind Mendes as Enki faded away, about six feet in diameter. Two chains flew from the hole and wrapped around Mendes' wrists, rattling through the air, and then with their successful catch.

As they pulled him deep into the abyss, into our reality to be chained up in a solitary room forever, he did not speak. He only looked at Michael with his new found eyes. His new eyes did not cry, and his body did not fight. When he fell into the open pit with the chains, the hole closed so fast and with such force, that it caused the ground to lift where the sides met.

Standing, Michael looked all around him in his moment of twisted victory. The deer all focused on him, and collectively let out a wailing cry. All of them turned around and returned into the forest together, except for one. Seven points on each side, this deer starred at Michael dead, dull, and didn't let out the wailing cry.

Uncomfortable even in this moment, Michael struggled his way to the baby, throwing the machete to the ground. Allowing the child to jump up on him, it was Michael who shed a tear whilst embracing the seed of Enki. The two walked back the the truck together, where it was visible that the baby had disconnected the truck's passenger door to escape.

The two got in and drove to Tutelo.

Prophecy Fulfilled

Michael had reached the door outside of Natalie's apartment. In this reality, there was no one. No one to stop him from working his way here, and no one to see the child. The apartment complex was rather cold, as would be expected from a building bade from brick and tile. On the second floor, it should have been a certainty in his mind.

He shivered as he pushed himself through the door. He flicked the light switch, and all was empty.

"I'm here, my lord," he thought to himself. "Where is she?"

As if being given clairvoyance, a path of yellow light led him through the kitchen and to the right, to another door in the living room. Without question, he pressed through.

In the bedroom, there was Natalie, or at least something representing her. A pure blue version of her sat on the bed, completely still.

"In this realm, time passed normally. In yours, it has been frozen since you accepted the deal. Sadly, Jonah was taken here as well since the beginning, so his death is still permanent. Not a second has passed. She is still mourning her choice with Mendes to give the baby up, and the thought of her lost friend. She is not exactly mentally stable these days."

"What are our options, lord?"

"You can grab her effigy and pull it in, effectively bringing her to this realm, where she will essentially be brain washed into taking care of the child in the incubation facility you constructed."

"The other option?"

"You may allow her to live freely in her realm, and convince her to take care of the child. She will fake her death and go to the facility freely, though she may not accept this route."

Michael thought hard on his choices, and thought hard on what was best for the child. He wanted what would raise the seed of Enki the greatest, but he felt as if he weight to his choices. A conscience, now thinking of the negative effects of his options.

"Another path. We've all been promised them, but unbeknownst to you is that the best path is not always one we want, nor one we ever consider doable," Ereshkigal said, mimicking his words from earlier.

Michael grabbed Natalie's shoulder and pulled her into this reality with a shiver. When she entered, she immediately looked at the child. The baby crawled up in her arms, and repeated a word from Mendes' last comment.

"...Blessed," the child muttered in a light voice, with a fast clicking sound behind it, such as someone rolling their tongue.

Natalie remained speechless, happily holding the child.

"I will take them to the incubation facility, so that she may raise the child properly. Now, you have a choice to make. When do you wish to return to your own realm?

"Is Jonah's body here, or there?"

"Here. You have been here since he first arrived."

"There really was never a choice to help or not, was there?"

"It was necessary."

Michael waited a second, thinking back once more.

"I'll stay here for a while."

Michael walked away, straight back to his vehicle.


Driving away from both Tutelo and Marington to explore was the best idea he ever had, as he looked up at the morning sky. Even this realm had day time, and the sun here was absolutely beautiful. The star itself was red, but all types of colors, from yellow to orange, to even pink, covered the sky from its light.

He turned on the radio once more.

"All night? You're a slow digger," said an odd voice from the radio. It was obviously younger, and even raspy.

"Give some respect. I was burying a friend."

"You'll get no sympathy from me. You don't even have the mask that you, yourself, built. Enki instead gave it to me," the voice mocked. "You had sex with dead bodies, I raped someone. You got the munchies for human flesh, and I'm open towards picking up a new hobby. I'm you 2.0, baby."

"I have a body."

"I'll get a body."

"What do you even do now that you're outside of the cycle?"

"Oh, I've only been out since you beat Mendes. Should have killed him, by the way. Really, I'm waiting for Enki to put me to use. I'll even accept my rotten body at this point."

"I thought it was Enki who put you in the cycle as punishment?"

"You see, that'll take a lot of explaining. I'm sure you have nothing to do other than drive around until you run out of gas, so you can afford me a few minutes. It gets sort of complex, but I have a little theory."

"Go ahead."

"My deal with Enki was to kill Joseph, and impregnate Natalie with our master's seed. Joseph was Mendes' last spark that caused him to betray Enki, now, Mendes is dealt with The time paradox occurred at a point I can only describe as lost in time, but perhaps it was a training experience. Training for the endgame, per say. You took Mendes out of the picture, so that cycle was unnecessary in Enki's eyes, for some reason."

"You couldn't even kill another teenager, regardless of having unlimited tries?"

"I succeeded an immeasurable amount of times. No matter how perfect the result, I was always sent back. I don't know why, but I've been in that cycle for what must be an eternity. I must have gone through thousands of times, and it was both ecstasy and torment. Once I come back to either reality I will prove that I have matured past that learning experience. I wi-"

The voice was cut off by Michael turning the radio off. He turned it back on, to speak once more.

"Enki has succeeded. The child is born. Natalie doesn't need her rapist around her whilst she is already forced to raise the seed of Enki, which you spread through your forced impregnation. Perhaps your sadism will never get a body, because those as dastardly as you don't get a second chance."

He was met with the sound of a highly frustrated and annoyed voice, whom waited a second before speaking this time.

"I'm definitely coming back. I've become the perfect killing machine, the perfect tracker, the perfect man. When I come back, I'll make sure to tie up some loose ends... bitch."

Michael turned off the radio for good, as he used his right hand to raise a plastic bag to his lap from the passenger seat. Laughing towards the conversation he'd just had, he opened the bag and took a piece of pink meat, taking a bite out of it. It tasted like young calf.

The bag was labeled Jonah- Rest in Piece.

Michael had nothing to do but think, wait until he was needed, and survive.

Written by ShawnCognitionCP
Content is available under CC BY-NC

Part 3 of the In Torment Series

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