Chapter I - Hell Awaits
"And with the blood I shall spill, I sacrifice life unto thee, and with the dagger of He Who Walks Behind The Rows..." Malachi raised his dagger high above his head. Michmethah rummaged for a rather important tool. Michmethah sent a pile of papers tumbling to the ground. "Must you be so loud, Michmethah?" inquired Malachi.
"I'm sorry Malachi. What did you need again? I seem to have forgotten." shouted Michmethah. Malachi sighed.
"I simply asked you to find me some rope. I need the rope to bind the unbeliever. Is it so hard to understand?"
"I.. I'm sorry." Muttered Michmethah. "Where do you keep the rope?"
"In the top shelf of the cupboard." Malachi turned back to the currently empty altar. "And with the dagger of He Who Walks Behind The Rows..." At this crucial point, Michmethah dropped a bowl. As it shattered, Malachi spun around suddenly. "I'm sorry Malachi. Where do you keep the rope, Malachi?" Malachi singsonged in a mocking tone.
"I'm sorry, Malachi." Michmethah sighed as he began to pick up the shards of glass.
"Shut your mouth, Michmethah!" screamed Malachi. "I agreed to take you under my wing, teach you the ways of He Who Walks Behind The Rows, and what do I receive in return? The ignorance of your pathetic mind is my reward! Why should I continue, what drives me to persist this charade, this farce, this mockery of all I have ever known and fought for? Why Michmethah, why?" Malachi paused, then omitted a heavy sigh. "I do not know. I just do not know. Well, don't hide away in a corner like a coward, come out here." Upon hearing this, Michmethah walked sheepishly into the centre of the room.
"What do you want me to do, Malachi?" whispered Michmethah.
"I want you to be quiet, and stand still." Malachi placed the dagger on the altar. He drew back his arm and swang violently at Michmethah. Malachi hit Michmethah on his left cheek. A tear ran down Michmethah's hot, swelling cheek. He tried to conceal the tear by lowering his head so his blonde hair hung over his eyes. "Why do you cry, Michmethah? Only through punishment may the correct path be found. Oh, I understand. You are jealous." Malachi half smiled to himself. "You wish you could have someone to do such things too. Or... Perhaps you are frightened. Are you Michmethah? Are you?"
Michmethah raised his head and made eye contact with Malachi.
"I am not frightened or jealous. I cry because of your cockiness. It truly is a shame someone so influential and powerful is such an ass." Malachi, enraged, grabbed the blade off the table and leapt behind Michmethah. Malachi pulled a handful of Michmethah's sandy hair, forcing his head to jerk backward and pressed the cold steel of the dagger against Michmethah's throat.
"Are you frightened now, Michmethah?"