Suddenly jolted, Luther glanced
nervously about the vehicle. He couldn’t describe the situation as
an awakening, as he had no idea whether or not he had been
sleeping. He also had no clue as to his surroundings, no clue as to
how he had gotten there either.
He was just there.
The only familiarities were the two government agents sitting up
front, who he knew only as Marvin and Hank. This disheartened him,
for they were the two agents who had succeeded at taking him down a
while back. He had neither need nor desire to be in their company at
any time.
The tall guy, Hank, stepped out from the passenger side of the dark
blue sedan and opened the back door. Reaching inside, he seized
Luther by his arm and lifted him from the vehicle. Once outside, the
prisoner of medium height and slender build stretched his bones.
Cracking his neck to one side, he suddenly realized how unusually
sore and cramped he was, and immediately assumed it was because he
had been confined to a sitting position for way too long. The fact
that his hands were cuffed behind his back only added to his
discomfort. He tossed his thick, curly hair to the wind and away
from his face, and then eyed his captors, anticipating their next
move.
“C’mon, let’s go,” Hank said, gesturing in the direction of the
woods bordering the highway.
“Where are you guys taking me?” Luther asked uneasily, his glances
opting between the two men in black suits. Leaving his question
unanswered, the driver strolled around the car to meet up with his
partner. The agents exchanged cold grins before strolling into the
forest.
Hank shoved Luther forward, catching him off balance when the
convict suddenly glanced back at the vehicle. Still puzzled by the
sudden jolt to awareness when it skidded to a stop at the road’s
gravelly edge, having no recollection of getting into the car only
compounded his curiosity. Although he had no idea as to his present
location, it appeared to be the kind of place he was accustomed to;
the typical deserted area wherein he’d torture and kill his victims.
He smiled at the thought.
“We’re gonna have a little fun,” Marvin finally said, knocking
Luther from his momentary state of crazed ecstasy.
“Yeah, right,” he
quipped, realizing they had anything but fun in mind.
They may have me now,
he thought, but I’ll eventually get away and kill them both.
The murderous thoughts forced a pleasurable sensation throughout his
body, almost sexual in nature. Typical as that emotion was for him
in scenarios like this, it was heightened in this case.
Light poked
through the gray clouds only sporadically, rendering the forest dark
and mysterious in most places. Hank kept his grip on Luther’s arm,
pushing him onward through the obscure wooded area. Luther heard the
readying clip of a pistol come from behind as he stepped over the
leaves and vines in his path. Marvin, the agent with the dark
complexion and the intense stare, kept it aimed firmly at his back
throughout the rest of the journey, periodically poking him with the
barrel to make him move faster. Eventually reaching an entwining
path, used perhaps by hunters and hikers, their pace increased,
bringing Luther to the notion that the agents were fairly familiar
with the location. Soon a salty aroma filled the air, the sound of a
rollicking surf as well. They eventually reached a small clearing
... and a cliff.
The cliff’s outer corner met at a ninety-degree angle to another
ledge, providing onlookers a joint scenic view. Peering out over the
far edge, Luther saw only water. Though he presumed it was the
Pacific Ocean, he wasn’t sure, primarily because the vista was so
dreamlike and illusory. Nevertheless, it reminded him of the spot in
which he brutally raped two young kids a few years back: after
tossing them over the side, he watched without emotion as their bare
bodies slammed into the rocky seawall before plunging into the
ocean.
“Are you guys gonna tell me what’s going on here?” he finally asked.
The two agents only grinned, and left his question unanswered again,
leaving Luther puzzled by their animated yet icily serene
expressions. Without uttering a word, Hank, the fair-haired agent,
released his grip from Luther’s arm. He then unfastened a set of
keys from his own pant belt, causing Luther to be concerned as to
his next move. That curiosity heightened when the agent unlocked the
handcuffs, permitting his arms to fall loosely at his side. Though
the elimination of the pain caused by the tight metal clasps relaxed
him a bit, the relief was short-lived.
With the gun pointed at him still, Marvin ordered him down on all
fours.
“Why? What're you gonna do?” he queried worriedly.
“Just do it!” the agent demanded.
Luther got down on all fours.
The men in black nodded their heads in a gratifying manner.
Upon
complying so easily, Luther was suddenly puzzled by his own
submissive behavior. There didn’t seem to be much vigor left in him.
It usually didn’t matter whether a gun was pointed at him or not;
his eminent, yet evasive trait of deception would generally take
over, and his demonic temperament would lash out. The two impassive
agents appeared to have total control over the current situation.
“Wrap your arms around that little tree,” Hank demanded. Luther
immediately peered over at the small, awkward growth that reached
out over the cliff’s edge; it extended up and outward like a fishing
rod from the stern of a vessel.
“No way!” he retorted, attempting to get back on his feet. Taking a
quick step forward, Hank proceeded to tap him lightly on the
shoulder with a thin, plastic stick. It sent a painful electric jolt
through Luther's body, forcing him to the ground again.
“Ahhhh!” he hollered, coddling the tender area where the baton had
made contact. He peered up at the agents with evil in his eyes, a
look they knew all too well. “I’m gonna kill you bastards. Just you
wait and see.”
“Go to hell, convict,” Marvin retorted, causing Luther to snarl. His
behavior, combined with his down-on-all-fours stance, made him
appear as a wild animal.
“Even in hell I’ll get you both,” he said with a sinister chuckle.
Marvin then approached, grabbing him forcefully by the arm.
“Wanna go over the edge?” he queried.
“No.” Luther abruptly replied, realizing he was serious.
“Then do it!”
Looking over at the little Serviceberry tree, and at its thick trunk
that appeared firmly planted into the earth, Luther crawled over to
it, cautiously; for although it looked aged and weakened, the
thought of being close to something fastened to the ground was at
least pleasing. Wrapping his arms around the trunk, he caught a
glimpse of the ocean from where he knelt. An intimidating sight for
sure, the rough, white-capped sea tossed freely about, pouncing
ferociously into the jagged boulders at the bottom of the cliff,
where the water appeared deep right up to the rocky base. A misty
view of the deep blue sea against the gray sky was all he saw in the
distance, and the wind howled with brute force, hitting his face
with a piercing sting. Smelling the water’s bitter, salty scent, he
felt it as well, as the wind and sea were so forceful that the water
was able to pelt his face as he stooped atop the high ledge.
This really
sucks, he uttered to
himself, pulling his sight from the direful scene.
Suddenly, Hank reached over and threw the cuffs around his wrists
again. Stunned, Luther looked up and saw the usual surreal and
unfazed expression upon the face of each agent. And once again, his
hands were bound by the metal grips, yet with his arms wrapped
securely around the tree stump this time. He had to reposition
himself in an effort to avoid getting stuck in the face by the
prickly branches. Though fairly bare and lifeless, a few scattered
red berries and white flowers hung from the spindly sticks.
Standing straight and tall as sentries, unmoved and unfazed, Hank
and Marvin sustained their indifferent gaze down at the ferocious
serial killer. Gawking back spitefully, Luther sneered, especially
after seeing Marvin place the pistol back into its holster. It only
meant that he wouldn't be needing it anymore.
Luther
was at their mercy, and he knew it.
“What's next, you filthy bastards?” he inquired, his misery evident
no matter how hard he tried to suppress it. “You’re not allowed to
treat prisoners like this, you know.” They said nothing in response
to his words. Luther’s anxiety was obviously taking its toll, as he
was beginning to sweat and shudder. The agents appeared aware of it,
too, but unsympathetic all the same.
Marvin then
took one step forward and kicked the prisoner in the abdomen,
compelling him to collapse right at the edge of the cliff! Following
a guttural moan from Luther’s mouth, for the unexpected thrust was
powerful, his body fell off the precipice
and halted to a midair dangle!
As his
arms stretched
upward to his bound wrists, the only thing keeping him from falling
to his doom were the cuffs, and their tenacious embrace of the tree
trunk. Though his body weight had pulled the tiny tree outward and
down, to a point where it was curving over like a bowed fishing rod
with a heavy catch on its line, Luther's only speck of optimism was
that it remained stoutly rooted into the earth. Hank and Marvin
appeared unmoved by the scenario still.
Luther disregarded his abdominal pain almost immediately. He
instinctively began lifting his body upward by the strength of his
wrists and arms, the chain of the snagged cuffs sustaining a
relentless tug of the tree's trunk. When his head exceeded the
height of the cliff’s edge, he saw that the agents had disappeared.
“C’mon back, you cowards,” he murmured breathlessly, glancing to the
left and to the right. Sneering at the idea of them running off and
leaving him to his demise, he immediately saw the situation as an
advantage. The possibility of getting his body back on all fours
upon solid ground provided him with some extra adrenaline,
especially upon realizing that he might be able to pull his arms up
and over the tree's branches once up there. He leaned his weight
upon one elbow and began pulling himself up onto flat ground.
However, his struggle was far from over. After positioning his right
leg atop the ledge, he abruptly slipped upon the soggy earth and
again plunged straight down. With outstretched arms extending upward
once more, the metals clasps grinded deeply into his skin.
As he
dangled over the cliff's edge, streaks of deep
red fluid began to dribble down his forearms like a river running a
wily traverse. After a few drops landed onto his lips and into his
mouth, he soon realized that he was tasting the sweetness of the
tree’s berries and not his own blood. A devious smirk came to his
face as his sick and twisted mind suddenly considered the tree a
crafty friend.
“Maybe it’s as ungodly as I am,” he noted of the tree of life. Not
only was it preventing him from falling, but it was feeding him as
well.
With his head propped back, his eyes gawking upward at the tree and
the cliff's edge, he smacked his lips while dangling in the wind.
Before attempting to pull himself up again, Luther decided to have a
look downward, just out of demented curiosity. Quickly looking
about, he became aware of the fact that the ledge he was previously
standing upon, and was currently hanging from once again, was much
more insecure than he had previously thought. It was no more than a
thin layer curving outward from solid land, as an apron, with an
under sheath of earth sloping inward. His cause for concern abruptly
compounded when he saw that the roots of the tree, the deciding
factor in his fight for life, were protruding down and out from the
soil beneath like a bush growing upside-down. And to top it off, a
huge wasp nest lay cradled within its spidery cavity. The more he
attempted to pull himself up, the more he slightly dislodged the
rooting from the earth, dislodging the nest as well. At the same
time, the ocean was heaving into the boulders at the base of the
cliff, and the wind was surging. The only positive factor about the
wind was that it was gusting outward, toward the sea; and although
he wasn’t too far from the cliff’s corner, and could feel it and
hear it enough, he was largely sheltered from its wrath.
I’ve got to
move quickly, he thought.
With all his might, he pulled on the trunk of the tree with both
wrists and hoisted himself up. And as before, he neared the edge and
positioned his leg on level ground in an effort to lift his body up
and over. After doing so, he merely shook his head and frowned at
the new sight atop the cliff. As surprised as he was, he was getting
used to the bizarre happenings of the day.
A mountain lion was
peering at him a few feet from the edge!
Its snout and beady eyes were mere inches from his face. Luther was
suddenly stricken with the sickening notion that the animal was
aware of his presence all along, but simply waited quietly for him
to climb back up. No wonder the two agents had left him alone, he
thought.
The lion eyed him cunningly, and then growled.
It lifted its paw and swiped at Luther, teasingly, just missing his
nose and his eye a few times. It then lowered its head in a shrewd
stance and crept even closer, giving him the impression it was going
to attack. As erroneous a decision as it was, he realized he had no
other choice but to back away from the vicious animal and drop
alongside the cliff again. But in attempting to do so, he again slid
on the damp earth and fell, grinding the metal clasps into the skin
of his hands as his body halted in midair. The act was so abrupt
that his arms felt as though they had popped from his shoulder
sockets. He moaned in agony. The tawny feline peered down at him
from the edge as he swayed in the wind. It then let out a roar,
displaying its pointed canines, with jowls quivering ferociously.
Luther realized that it was capable of ripping him to shreds in
seconds, and that it desired to do so as well.
He noticed a few of the wasps leave the nest and fly about. Taking a
quick glimpse beneath the shelving again, he saw that it had become
dislodged. The tree was loosening in the earth and the nest was
slipping closer to the base of the rooted cluster.
The cat lowered its head and a good portion of its body over the
edge of the cliff and emitted a deep, resonant growl. Not only did
Luther hear it, but he felt its warm breath on his outstretch arms.
From where it was positioned, it could easily have bitten right into
his hands if it desired to do so, as his cuffed wrists were hanging
mere inches from its slobbering muzzle.
Though not in full rage yet, the wasps fluttered about, readying for
attack.
A mordant chill gripped Luther’s spine as his fear mounted.
Suddenly, Hank and Marvin entered his thoughts again.
I’d like to
kill them both right now,
Luther thought. Though it made his temper boil, he was extremely
frightened, a mixture of emotions he wasn’t used to.
A swipe of the animal's paw barely missed his head again. While
sustaining its snarl, it got down on its forelegs, looking as though
it was going to pounce. Luther didn’t even want to ponder the
notion, as the thought of falling to his fate with a mountain lion’s
jaw clamped tightly around his neck didn’t appeal to him at all. So
he just dangled in midair and waited, the sweat beading from his
face, his wrists aching terribly from the wrenching metal clasps.
And the berry juice continued trickling onto his face and into his
mouth.
The insects began to swarm, brushing into his face and shoulders. He
even felt a few jab into the skin of his legs every now and then,
and crawl and buzz about his knees.
He knew that the tree was eventually going to surrender to his
weight; it was only a matter of time. But what frightened him most
wasn’t the thought of falling into the boulders below; it was the
possibility of clearing the rocks and making it into deep water with
the handcuffs still fastened to his wrists. He wouldn't even have
the ability to wade in the water. With this gloomy thought cramming
his mind, he hung at the side of the cliff in a defeated state of
terror. His strength had subsided and he felt as though he was near
death. His predicament was pretty sad, to say the least.
“Help me,” he pleaded more than once, his voice coarse and weakened.
“Somebody please help me.”
The nest suddenly dislodged from within the under roots and
plummeted to the rocks below! The insects that were able to avoid
the fall swarmed Luther and began to sting him continuously!
Some swarmed upward to level ground as well and commenced to
aggravate the mountain lion. Luther wasn’t aware of that, though,
and didn’t even care, for he was so weakened and beaten that he
never saw the animal retreat back into the woods. But eventually he
was forced to lift his weary head and peer up at the clasped cuffs.
Suspended in midair, helpless and diluted of all muscle strength,
and the insects easily having their way with him, he gazed wearily
at the chain that decided his fate. A piece of metal had pelted his
face, making him fully aware of the fact that the chain was
breaking. He saw the broken link and knew that, little by little,
the open space was widening.
He had to force himself a second wind.
The tree dropped another inkling of juice into his gaping mouth. He
tasted it and swallowed, wondering if it would be his last.
With whatever vigor he could muster, and all the stimuli he could
generate, he pulled on the tree trunk with both cuffed hands, fists
clenched. Other than the stressful creaking of the chain grinding
into the bark of the tree’s trunk, which was an exaggerated and
amplified sound, there didn't seem to be any additional noise
entering his mind, no other sound whatsoever. His overwhelmed and
beaten body slowly lifted alongside the ledge, along with the
creaking noise, which grew louder as he neared the edge.
But just as he was about to lay his elbow upon the flat of the
ledge, he heard the metal link spring from its bond!
His hands were suddenly free of the tight grasp as the chain
separated in two. Although he tried desperately to clutch a branch,
it was a vain effort. His tree of life no longer held him.
He plummeted down the
side of the cliff!
Fortunately for him, he had pushed away from the ledge, causing his
body to fall even further outward from the cliff than was already
permitted by the extended apron he had fallen from. He missed the
boulders and plunged into the ocean with a hard splatter.
Immediately upon entering the water, Luther began flapping wildly in
an effort to resurface. The sudden attack on his senses wasn’t as
bad as he had thought it would be, for he realized almost instantly
that the water temperature was pleasing. He gasped for air as soon
as his head broke the surface and continued flapping about to stay
afloat. To his amazement, he found that the ocean was rather calm
and serene, quite different than it had appeared from up above.
Though he didn't know why, the distant view of the rocky shoreline
looked peculiar and blurry, almost surreal. Because of his
heightened emotional state perhaps, everything appeared to sway and
ripple back and forth.
Then he looked up at the cliff’s edge.
Gazing down at him were Marvin and Hank. He couldn’t help breaking
into demented laughter upon seeing them.
“Ha ha ha!” He bellowed. “What are you assholes gonna do now?”
Though his heart was still beating wildly from the whole experience,
he felt the sudden sense of freedom he’d longed for. He was no
longer in custody and no longer without the use of his hands and
legs. Although the cuffs were still attached to his wrists, the
separated chains dangled loosely in the water. He laughed at the
agents again and pointed up at them as he frolicked in the sea,
which was revitalizing and refreshing. Though his body was weakened,
and he was still in pain from the wasp stings and the stress of
hanging alongside the cliff, the water was soothing.
And he was free … that was the best part of all … he was free.
He swam and romped about the sea some more, like a child laughing
and rollicking at the beach on a summer’s day. Totally unaware of
just how quickly the sky had changed, he looked up and saw that it
was sunny and cloudless. As he did, he again noticed the agents
peering down at him from the cliff’s edge. It was a strange,
pity-like gaze, as if they realized something was about to occur. He
didn’t trust them one bit. Following fifteen brutal murders and the
fact that he’d terrorized most of California, he knew that both
agents loathed him and would like nothing more than to watch him
suffer. Though they were finally able to apprehend him ... they were
now playing some kind of ruthless mind game with him.
A curious thought suddenly entered his mind: Why aren’t they
doing anything?
He gazed up at them worriedly.
The agents stood at the cliff’s edge in their distinctive black
suits, straight and tall as statues or store mannequins. Removing
his sight from them, he then looked over at the shore’s edge,
abruptly realizing that it was what he should have been doing almost
immediately upon hitting the water.
He must escape their gaze; he must get away.
After reveling in an intoxicating, yet fleeting state of bliss and
freedom, he suddenly felt trapped in the wide-open sea.
Then, just as
he looked up at the odd men in black atop the ledge again, he
quickly pulled his head to his left when something caught the corner
of his eye.
A fin
was protruding from the water and coming right at him!
He turned his body around in the water to face the oncoming
predator, just to see it suddenly detour off to the right, as if it
had decided to depart and leave him alone. But he soon realized that
the fish was circling him, slowly. Sometimes its arc was distant,
but then would appear frightfully close. He did his best to stay
quiet and calm, knowing that the possibility of a shark attack was
more probable when stirring too much. But he couldn’t help waving
his arms to and fro, as the weight of his clothing made it difficult
to stay buoyant. The shark continued circling him in its
unpredictable, oval manner. Sometimes its fin sunk entirely, leaving
Luther totally in suspense as to its actual location. He couldn’t
help feeling that his legs, dangling submerged to where he couldn’t
even see them, were mere bait waiting for a sharp clamp to suddenly
occur. Though he tried to suppress that thought from his mind, he
found it nearly impossible to do. Looking atop the cliff again, he
gave a repulsive sneer at Marvin and Hank, who only sustained their
indifferent gaze back at him.
“Bastards,”
he murmured.
Upon
noticing that the fin was submerged again, he looked atop the cliff
once more and saw that the agents had disappeared again. He didn’t
know why exactly, but that discovery made him feel even worse. It
was almost as if the agents had disappeared because they’d seen
enough, and knew that the end was near.
The fin rose
again, this time within ten feet of Luther, treading water like a
submarine rising to the surface. The swells from it actually hit his
face, rendering him quite aware of just how close the predator was.
He was so frightened that the quick thumps in his chest were
beginning to hurt. He wasn’t use to that feeling either, as it felt
as though his heart was going to explode at any moment. Since the
shark didn’t appear as though it was going to leave him alone any
time soon, he knew he had to at least attempt to shimmy over to the
rocky shoreline. But as soon as he started to move ...
It bumped into him.
Looking down
into the murky water, he got a fairly good look at it as it floated
by and realized that it was huge. Probably a bull shark, he thought.
The surety of the situation and the close proximity to danger made
him more nervous than previously, and it prompted him to shake
uncontrollably like a child on a wintry day. If only he could make
it to the safety of the rocks, he thought, but the recent brush with
the beast made them appear a million miles away.
Engulfed in fear, he
peered into the depths of the water again, wondering when it was
going to strike.
He knew
that he was about to experience a brutal death.
The fin
surfaced again, this time about thirty feet away, coming at him from
the direction of the rocks. Even if he did have the nerve to start
swimming, he had no place to go.
His heart
thumped violently; the pain was excruciating.
The head
of the shark surfaced! He could see the whites of its eyes!
In a feeble
act of defense, Luther attempted to paddle backward and away from
the approaching sea monster. But it approached quickly. Its behemoth
body lifted partially out of the water as its jaws separated,
displaying numerous rows of teeth with jagged crowns.
He
shrieked in terror as his head entered the wide-open orifice of the
incredible beast!
*
* *
The doctor nodded, and then removed the apparatus from the convict’s
head. Those in attendance knew he was finally dead.
“It took a
while,” the warden said.
“Yes, it did.
He was pretty tough,” the medical assistant added, removing the
needle from the dead man’s wrist.
Both amazed
by the affair that had just taken place,
Marvin and Hank
sat against the left wall in silence, taking it all in. Lively
expressions adorned their faces, much different than the frozen
features the prisoner had seen throughout his ordeal. The warden
approached the dead man’s chair and lifted the Trauma Inducing
Simulator from atop the table.
“Amazing
contraption,” he said.
“Sure is,”
the trauma specialist said from the control area behind the
convict’s chair.
“For a while
there, I almost thought ‘ol Luther Townsend was gonna beat it,” one
of the agents said, breaking their silence.
“Yeah, what might help next time is adding a bit more personality
and charisma into the personalities of you two chumps,” the engineer
said, generating laughter within the small room.
“No, I don’t
think so,” the warden said in negation. “Their coldness seemed to
keep Luther guessing. It added to his confusion.” They all nodded in
agreement, except for the attending physician, who was staring at
the dead man seated in front of him. “What’s wrong, doc?” the warden
asked, noticing the solemn gaze upon his face.
“It’s so
realistic,” he replied, staring at the droplets trickling into the
dead man’s gaping mouth. Though there didn't appear to be a cut or a
bruise on his face, the redness was just there, almost as if it had
fallen from the ceiling and landed right beside his upper lip.
Though he figured it to be blood at first, the texture of it puzzled
him. And to top it all off, the deceased convict appeared to be
smiling. Not wanting to explain something he himself didn’t
understand, the doctor looked up at the warden and forced a
reassuring expression. Looking down at Luther again, he shook his
head in disbelief. Not only had the red fluid disappeared, but the
smile upon the convict's face had altered to a cunning grin. He kept
that to himself as well.
“The fact
that we added to the simulation assisted in the overall procedure,”
the trauma specialist said. “As with the mixture of heart attack
inducers and the use of the stun baton.” He then held up a needle
for the doctor to see. “And jabbing him with these when the wasps
started stinging worked well. The addition of reality sensors to his
induced nightmare insured the success of the execution.”
“His life
ended by the same means he incorporated himself,” Hank said.
“Yup, by
terrorizing and torturing his victims,” Marvin added.
“I guess one
might call it a classic case of an eye for an eye,” Hank said. All
present grinned and nodded.
*
* *
His head
jolted to and fro as the scene before him suddenly changed. He
gasped for air, as the terror within him hadn’t yet subsided. “Where
am I now?” Luther asked himself timidly. “What in the name of hell
is going on?”
One
moment a gigantic shark is swallowing me whole,
he thought,
and the next, I’m in an abysmal blackness.
He
looked about, but saw and heard nothing.
“This must
be a death place,” he said softly to himself.
Then he saw an amber glow up ahead. Though it appeared quite distant
and small at first, it appeared to grow larger, giving him the
perception that it was moving closer to him. With it, it brought a
stench, and a presence ... a presence of profound evil. He began to
tremble. “I must be dead,” he said, frightened out of his
wits.
The thing moved closer.
Soon enough, Luther saw the one amber glow separate into two
as it neared, bringing him to the daunting realization that the
glows were protruding from the eyes of a horrible beast. It was a
serpentine creature, uglier than anything he could imagine.
Augmented by wriggly, pointed horns that protruded from the decrepit
skin of an aging corpse, its expression was the epitome of sinister.
It drooled as it slithered along, emitting an ooze that appeared
heated and venomous.
He was more frightened at that moment than he had ever been in life,
even when the shark came right up to him.
The beast,
or demon, stopped before him, locked sight with his … and then
snarled.
“We’ve been
awaiting you,” it stated in a deep, resonant, and inhuman voice.
Luther shivered with fear at the sound.
“Wh … wh ... why?” is all he could muster.
“Because you are one of us.” It then broke into a shimmering bout of
laughter. Luther simply shook his head in disgust, admitting to
himself what a mess he’d finally gotten into. “That’s why we fed you
the juice of the vine,” it added. “We pitied you, and served you the
blood of many. It brings us closer.”
“I’d like to kill Marvin and Hank,” he retorted loudly, without even
realizing how loud his words actually were. He meant it, too,
because he finally understood how good a job the agents had done at
taking him down. And boy, did they ever take him down, he mused to
himself.
The demon
stared at him cunningly.
“That can be arranged,” it responded slyly. “That’s what we’re into
here, my evil friend, an eye for an eye for an
eye for an
eye, …” It laughed hideously as the phrase
echoed repeatedly, but Luther's attention was elsewhere. His anger
and hatred were boiling hotter than ever, causing his face to
suddenly turn a deep, shiny shade of crimson. He knew right at that
moment that he was in the right place, and he welcomed it as his new
home. As his eyes turned up, slyly, glimmering with a piercing amber
glow, he flaunted a crafty smirk. He then licked his lips one more
time, taking in the last speck of berry juice.
He savored
the taste.
