Taylor
"Years of work. Gone in a tme it takes a bullet to leave a gun. And
why? Because of you. Well, you;re not the only cause but you're one
I'm able to address now."
*
One of the guards started chipping away the concrete around
Blakesley's hand. "That was...unwise."
*
"Believe me, your being male is not a problem to you being put to the
same use Natalia was... You're going to be screaming again before the
end of the day."
*
"Little fool. Do you think this is the only collection here? I have
whole cupbaords dedicated to different species. Alien. Human. Demon.
Mutant. Crosses and holy water for the vampires, blessed blades and
diffrent amulets for different demons. This is only *one* room." He
grinned slightly. "In my Father's house, there are many rooms...each
one prepared for you."
*
"Perhaps this time I will advance onto your hands. I am very, very
annoyed with your behaviour. How do you feel about having each joint
of your fingers crushed?"
*
"Temper, temper," Blakesley tutted. "Didn't your mother ever teach
you it was not polite to swear? Terrible language in a boy your age."
*
"Your body is my canvas. Your blood my paint. Your pain is my
creative muse... It is only fitting that you carry my signature. Like
any work of art carries the signature of the artist that created it."
***
Taylor's eyes shot open as he coughed, instantly trying to get
himself back together.
He was home. He was fine. He had Mouse by his side, the wovles, the
fuzzles, and two bodyguards watching over him. He was fine...
But he didn't remember that happening...