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."
*
"Believe me, your being male is not a problem to you being put to the same use Natalia was."
*
"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."
*
"Do you wish to die also? I thought you said you didn't have a deathwish."
*
"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?"
*
"An artist always signs his work," Blakesley said reflectively. "My art is one...underappreciated by the world at large, but it is an art nonetheless."
*
"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."
*
"You might as well forget about it because you won't be leaving this place except as ashes on the wind. Not much use to anyone, except to the plants."
*
Taylor eyes shot open as his body gave a jolt. He sat up and rubbed his eyes, staring blankly into the darkness of the room. Finally, he put his head in his hands.
"Why can't you leave me alone?" he whimpered softly.
He was now seeing Blakesley's face.