# 3
by Brian Campo
(bcampo@hotmail.com)
This is a work of fan fiction. Spawn and all related characters are owned by Todd McFarlane Productions, and I do not contest that ownership. This story is in no way official and it should not be taken as such. All characters in this story not owned by Mr.McFarlane are owned by me, though I would gladly loan them out if asked nicely.
Warning: This story may contain graphic violence, sexual situations and harsh language. If you shouldn't be reading it, don't.
Promised Land
"I don't know who he is or what he is," said Cogliostro. "but
I can tell you that Timothy Rice is no man of God." He sat at the chair
by his desk looking disheveled and nerve wracked. He'd had a rough couple
of days; being trapped in a magical mirror and thinking you're never going
to escape isn't fun in anybody's book. A blanket had been thrown over the
face of the mirror. Cog found it's black surface just a little too disturbing
too look at right now. It would be a while before he could build up the
courage to use that particular divining device again.
Al stood nearby, wrapped in his cloak and his own thoughts.
"Then how could he do the things he does?" asked the Spawn. "He's got power,
and plenty of it. I've seen it, felt it."
"Don't know." Cog replied." But when it comes to sources of
power, this universe is in no short supply. I've met him before and I'm
telling you he is evil."
"If he doesn't work for God then why would he claim that he
does?"
"It's a brand name." said Cog. "It's one that sells."
"I don't understand." God a brand name?
"Look, it's like someone making fake rolex's and them selling
them on the street. People buy them cause they believe that they are the
real thing and the real thing is a sure thing, a tried and true thing.
You can sell anything to people if you put the right name tag on it. You
say, 'Hello, I work for Jesus.' and people say, 'Who do I make the check
out to?' It doesn't mean that he's actually working for God, anymore than
a little sweat shop in Taiwan making knock off Rolex's really works for
Rolex. He's just reaping the benefits cause he's using a name that people
trust."
It made a little sense to Spawn. He still didn't see what Rice
could be getting out of the deal. "You said you've met him before. Where?
When?"
"1822." said Cog. "I had run into a spot of trouble when a young
angel had decided to earn her wings by tracking down old Cog and taking
his head. I had to use just about every spell and enchantment I knew to
keep her from doing just that. Our little scrap took us around the world
and through several others before it finally ended. When it was over she
was nothing but a pair of legs sticking out of a smoking crater and I was
stuck in the middle of the California desert, low on power and without
food or water."
I spent a week wandering west, hoping to find a settlement or
civilization of some kind. It was horrible. The heat was cooking me alive
and there was no where to hide from it. All I could do was just keep going
and hope I would reach somewhere safe before I collapsed. Late afternoon
of the eighth day I saw a large structure up ahead. 'Finally!' I thought.
'I'm saved!' The building was a spanish prison, built to house the worst
criminals in the California territory. I must have been a sight as I stumbled
up the guards at the gate, nearly blackened by the desert sun, so dehydrated
that I was unable to speak. One of the guards gave me his canteen and I
gulped at it. I vomited what I drank and drank some more. They took me
inside and led me to the infirmary. It was cool in there and I passed out.
It seemed I had only closed my eyes when someone was shaking me, trying
to wake me. It took me a minute but I was able to collect myself enough
to sit up. A priest had come to see me. He introduced himself as Antonio
Vinbueno. He served as both priest and doctor at the prison. He was there
to look me over and help if he could. He gave me a quick once over and
then he opened my right to look into it. He saw something in my eye he
didn't like. Somehow, he figured out what I was. One second he was a caring
priest trying to help me, the next second he was looking at me like I was
a rattlesnake. He took a step back and spit at me."
"I see you, devil!" he shouted at me. "Why have you come here?!"
I played stupid, acting like I didn't know what he was talking
about. It enraged him. He pulled a worn out bible from his robes, held
it above his head and charged at me, shrieking in rage. I was too weak
to fend him off. He grabbed a handful of my hair and drug me off of the
bed and onto the floor. He yanked and pulled me through the prison and
to the gates, cursing me and rebuking me and calling me, "Seed of Satan."
and all kinds of things. He threw me head first out through the gates and
told me to leave. I couldn't get to my feet so he started kicking me and
dragging me by my hair again. "Be gone." he yelled at me, "You are not
welcome here." I pulled myself together and got away from him. As I stumbled
away through the desert night I heard him screaming back there, telling
me that if I ever returned he would bind and burn me."
Two days later I made it into a little town and was able to
recover. I never went back to that place. I suppose I probably could have
handled that priest when I was in better condition, but something about
him scared me. He had these eyes, something about them. . . Anyway, years
later I hear that something strange had happened at that prison. The supply
wagons went out there one day and they found everyone dead. Guards, prisoners,
all of them were dead. Suicide. They all hung themselves. Only one person
was missing. That priest. It was one of those things that no one could
ever figure out. Some said the desert had gotten to them, or maybe they
had some sickness. I knew the truth, though. It was that priest. He had
done it, somehow. Made them do it."
"The priest was Rice?" asked Al.
"Yes." said Cog. "And that's not all. Remember back in the early
eighties there was this cult up in Minnesota that had themselves a mass
suicide? They all went out to a lake in the middle of winter, stripped
naked and lay down on the ice and froze to death. When they press got a
hold of it they went nuts. It was on every news channel. The leader of
this cult was missing and the police were looking for him. They showed
his picture and I swear it was him. He had a beard and glasses and longer
hair, but it was him. And that's him out there with your friends right
now. I think he's going to try to do it again, Al. If we let him he'll
kill them all."
"How could he convince all those people to do that? People aren't
that stupid. You can't just tell them to kill themselves and they do it."
"It happens." said Cog. "It's happened many, many times. Sure,
if you walk up to someone on the street and say, 'Kill yourself.' they
will tell you where to shove it. But you come to them using a name they
trust, like Jesus, show them some slight of hand and they'll kill their
children for you. Besides, it's a lot easier to do things you'd never do
if you see a lot of other people doing it too. Mob mentality is one of
the greatest powers on earth. People want to be lead, they want to be told
what to do. If they do as they are told then their actions are someone
else's responsibility. How many times have you heard the words, 'I was
just following orders.'?"
Those words stung Al. He knew he'd said them several times in
his life, trying to excuse something horrible he had done. He turned away
from Cog so the old man couldn't see the pain on his face. "You think it
was him that pushed you into the mirror?" he asked, trying to move the
conversation in a different direction.
"Yes." said Cog. "I believe he considered me a threat. He must
have seen me and recognized me. He realized that I could tell the others
who and what he was. So, he tried to remove me from the equation."
"Then why not try to remove me, too?"
"Apparently because he didn't consider you to be a threat."
Spawn turned and glared at him. "What?!"
"Look at yourself. Young, impulsive, inclined to make bonehead
moves. It would take him only a few minutes of watching you before he got
your number. He figures, sure, the boy's got power, but he doesn't have
the common sense to know how to use it. It was easier to just let you go.
Let you throw your little tantrums, try your back alleys tactics and all
the while he'll turn the people that believe in you against you. How well
has he been doing?"
Spawn said nothing, which confirmed Cog's suspicions.
"He's playing you, Al, and unless you get your act together
he's going to win. Let me tell you a little secret. The purest and
strongest power in the universe is faith. If people believe in you and
what you stand for then you will have all the strength you will ever need.
Right now, Timothy Rice has those people's faith. He's shown them some
tricks, he's put food in their bellies, and he's healed their wounds. He's
helped them while you sat around doing nothing for years. For the first
time in years someone is helping them. And they believe in him with every
fiber of their being."
"You're saying that because he has their faith I can't beat
him?"
"I'm not saying that you can't. I'm saying that it won't be
easy." said Cog. "They had faith in you once, you know. You protected them.
They believed in you and while you didn't realize it, it made you stronger.
All those hundreds of people believing in you, trying to be near you, it
made you nearly invincible. You conquered anyone who came looking for you.
But you started withdrawing, started letting bad things happen to the good
people that believed in you. They started looking for somewhere else to
put their faith. You've gotten weaker. You've had some scraps with enemies
lately where you didn't fare so well. Tim Rice came along and gave those
people just what they needed. He took their faith from you. But you can
have their faith back, if you want it. Give them a reason to believe in
you. Show them what you stand for."
"You don't understand." said Spawn. " I've tried to stop him.
He took that bible and swatted me away like I was a fly. What hope do I
have against a man who can redirect the path of a bullet in mid-flight?"
"You're going to have to find a way. Think. Find his weakness.
Where does he get his power? Can he be cut off from it? You can't beat
this one just with your fists, Al. You're going to have to be calm and
calculating."
Spawn thought about what Cog had told him, and wondered how
much truth there was to it. He thought of the Curse being able to cut him
to pieces, the way John Sansker had beat on him so badly. Was there really
some way that the bums faith effected his strength and powers? It was just
too strange to be true, but then again, he was a dead man who had been
resurrected to be a hell powered zombie wearing a sentient super hero costume.
Strange things do happen.
"I don't know." he told Cog. "I need time to think. Time to
sort this all out." He started towards the door.
"Time is something we don't have a lot of, Al. I don't know
how much longer it will be before Rice starts asking those people for sacrifice.
When that time comes I'm afraid they're going to be willing to give it
to him."
Belly full of coffee and doughnuts, Bobby huddled with his fellow
bums and listened to Reverend Rice as he spoke. It was the seventh day
that Rice had come to the alleys to preach and he was fast becoming a regular
fixture in these parts. Everything had been peaceful since the woman had
been shot and healed three days before. No one was sure what had happened
that day or who had done the shooting, but the trouble seemed to have stopped.
Maybe Rice was right, maybe because people had their minds on God and off
of sinful things the Lord was protecting them.
Rice was bringing them food every day now. Every day it seemed
like there was more to eat. The first day it had only been the chicken
dinner during the middle of the day but as the days went by the meals had
become more frequent. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, Rice just seemed to
pull them out of nowhere. Bobby hadn't eaten this much and this often in
years. He was feeling so good that he was even laying off of the bottle.
Bobby hadn't seen Al at all over the last few days. He seemed
to have disappeared from the alleys all together. He had wondered more
than a few times over the last few days if Al had something to do with
that shooting, but told him self that it was crazy talk. Al had never hurt
any of the bums and he would never shoot a defenseless woman. Still, it
was strange that he seemed to have disappeared right after it happened.
. .
Rice was talking about the wonders of heaven. He had sat down
his bag of doughnuts and pot of coffee so that he could move around a little
more while he preached. Bobby had to hand it to him. He knew how to preach.
He knew how to move a crowd and get it fired up about God. He didn't use
big words, he talked in a way that they could understand. And he was so
convincing. He made it seem like it would be silly not to love God.
"Didn't the Lord tell you that he has prepared a place for you?"
Rice was saying. "Do you believe that he wants you to live this way? "
"No!" shouted the crowd. Bobby chimed in. They had become more
used to Rice's style of religion and knew that when he asked a question
he expected an answer."
"He doesn't want you to be cold all the time! He doesn't want
you sleeping out in the rain!. He is your Father in heaven! What kind of
Father would he be if that was what he wanted? He is a loving Father. He
wants you to be warm. He wants you to be clothed. He wants you to sleep
in a bed at night and eat at a table in the morning. Do you believe that?"
"Yes!" replied the people in the crowd.
"You were sick." said Rice. "You had all sorts of ailments.
What did your loving Father do?"
"He healed us." some bums said.
"That's right. He sent me here and used me to heal you. He took
away that pain. He took away that sickness, those maladies. He made you
well. You were hungry. Did your Father turn his back on you. Did he let
you starve?"
"Oh, no." said the people. "Praise the Lord."
"That's right. He provides food for you. He gives you sustenance.
He knows you can't praise him when you have a gnawing in your belly. You
have been through a trial over these last few years and the end of that
trial is coming. The Lord has seen you persevere and he has tested you
some more. He's seen you keep loving him when times were at their worst.
He's preparing a place for you and soon your going to be ready to go there.
Do you want to go there?"
"Oh, yes!" replied the crowd. "We're ready!"
"I don't know." said Rice. "I don't think you are. It takes
faith to go to that place. You have to be ready, or you will be turned
aside at the gate. It's Love that will open those gates. Love of the Lord.
You are his children and he wants you to come home, but only when you are
ready. And do you know how you'll know when you're ready?"
The crowd was quiet, hanging on his every word.
"You'll be ready when you are ready to be shown the way. That's
why I am here, to show you the way to him. I can lead you to him, but you
have to ask yourself, are you ready to be lead to him? You're so headstrong,
so stubborn, always wanting God and the world to work your way. It's time
for you to let go of that and let God show you his way. Can I get an Amen?"
"Amen." said the bums, in almost perfect unison.
"Do you think you're ready?"
"Yes!"
"That's not good enough. You have to KNOW you're ready. If you
aren't sure, then you're not ready. So are you ready?"
"We're ready!"
"Are you sure you're ready?"
"We're ready, Praise God, We're ready."
"Show me."
They all sat staring at him, unsure of what he meant.
"I'll show you." he said. "All you have to do is follow me.
So, I want you to standup, and follow me. The Promised Land is that way."
He pointed east.
Some of the bums looked skeptical. Bobby felt more than a little
skeptical.
"I thought you said you were ready?!" shouted Rice. "You're
sitting here and you're thinking, 'This is New York. How can the Kingdom
of God be right over there?' You're questioning. You're not acting on faith!
Did he not feed you? Did he not heal you? Now he wants to put a roof over
your head and care for you but you are sitting there questioning him! Get
up! Get up! Believe. You'll see! Believe!"
The people were getting to their feet. Some were hesitant at
first but when they saw their friends getting up too they felt more confident.
"Praise God." said Rice, a smile on his face. "I do believe
you are ready. Just follow me." He started east, and the massive crowd
of bums followed him. They were five hundred strong. They hurried to keep
up with Rice who was moving forward at a brisk eager pace. They wanted
to stay near him.
Bobby moved along at the back of the crowd, wondering where
they were going. A loud clank made him look up and he caught a flash of
red as something moved overhead from one rooftop to another.
"Al?" he called out. There was no reply.
"What are you waiting for, Bobby?" yelled one of the bums ahead
of him. "C'mon! Let's go!"
Bobby looked up for a few seconds more and then jogged to catch
up with the others.
At the front of the throng Timothy Rice smiled and encouraged
the people behind him to keep up. They were heading out of the alleys now,
over onto the busier streets. He didn't stop for traffic. He just held
out his hands to each side and walked right into the street. He was pleased
to see the crowd do the same. The traffic on the street came to a screeching
halt as drivers sat with mouths agape at the crowd of bums passing in front
of them. This happened over and over as they headed east, bringing the
whole section of the town to a standstill. People were staring out the
windows of their apartments at this parade of filthy homeless people marching
en mass. The bums ignored them and followed after Timothy Rice.
The buildings around them were turning into factories and warehouses
now. They were getting close to the river. Was he going to baptize them?
some of the bums asked. Cause that river water was filthy. You could catch
diseases in it. Others told them to be quiet and just follow Timothy. He
knew what he was doing. Some sang hymns and others joined them. Let
us all gather at the river, the beautiful, the beautiful river, let us
all gather at the river that flows from the throne of God!
Rice grinned and joined in with the song. His voice would have
worked well on an easy listening radio station. Finally, they came to the
banks of the river. Timothy stopped and the crowd began to fill in the
area around him.
"What now?" people were asking.
"The Kingdom of God is over there." he said as he pointed across
the river.
"Should we swim?"
"Find boats?"
"Will he send a boat?"
"How do we get across?"
"We'll walk across." Rice told them. He walked down to the very
edge of the water and raised his bible above his head. "Dear Lord," he
began to pray. "These people are coming home to you. They've been tested
and found true and they are ready to claim their heavenly reward. If it
is your will, and you find them to be ready, help us to cross this river."
Then he closed his eyes, took a deep breath and thrust his bible out over
the water. The hair on the head of every person in the crowd stood on end.
Their flesh tingled with the power emanating from Timothy Rice.
"Yes, Lord!" he shouted. "Yes!"
A line ripped straight across the top of the river directly
in front of Rice. The ground beneath their feet began to rumble. The natural
order of things was being manipulated. The river to Timothy's left simply
stopped flowing while all the water to his right quickly drained away to
dry land. It was like something right out of a Hollywood epic, a honest
to God, Cecil B Demille miracle.
He didn't hesitate for a moment, he stepped right out onto the
wet muck of the river bed and started across. Some of the bums hemmed and
hawed for a moment, worried about their shoes, but figured, what the heck?
God will give them new shoes. They raced out onto the mud, trying to catch
up with Rice. They stared at the wall of water to their left, amazed. It
was growing taller by the second as millions of tons of water were being
held back. If they ever had a reason to doubt God, it was gone now. They
believed in him whole heartedly.
They were passing over garbage and wrecked cars and even some
blocks of cement with leg bones protruding from them. Everything that had
ever been tossed into the river was revealed. They made their way around
the obstacles and kept moving, hurrying to get across the mile of riverbed
to the other side. This was it. Their lives were finally changing for the
better. Once they got to the other side, they would be in the Kingdom of
heaven. They thought of love ones they might be leaving behind and thought,
oh, well. They'll have to find their own way.
In the distance sirens were wailing. The police were coming
to see just what the hell was wrong with the river. A helicopter appeared
on the horizon and headed their way.
Halfway across Timothy stopped. He turned to his crowd of followers
and smiled. "You've passed the test." he said. "You put your faith in me
and followed me into the river. I'm so proud of you." He waved his bible
at them. "He's so proud of you. Now tell me, do you love your God?"
"We love him." said the crowd.
"You can't doubt him now, can you? Look around, look at the miracle
I've shown you. I want to hear you say that you believe in him."
"We believe in him!" They were weeping with joy and adulation.
"He wants to hear you say it like you mean it. He wants to hear
you say, "I believe in you!"
"I believe in you!" they shouted, near hysteria.
"Again." Rice waved his bible around like a madman. "Make the
ground shake with your voices!"
"I believe in you!" People had their hands in the air. A few
were dancing around in the mud, tears streaming from their eyes.
"Do you believe that I can take you to the Promised Land?" Rice's
feet began to lift off of the ground. People gasped and praised the Lord
as they watched him begin to levitate.
"Oh, yes, Lord!"
"Do you believe in me? Do you believe in my power?" He was rising
above their heads now. He held his hands up and out the side as if he was
pulling the last notes out of an orchestra.
"Yes, Lord, Yes." they said, sounding like they were in the
throes of passion.
"I said, do you believe in me?!" He was rising above the wall
of water now.
"Yes, yes, yes! We believe in you!" They were worked up into
a frenzy.
Rice stopped moving all of a sudden and smiled. "Then you're
mine."
He dropped his hands and looked upward. The wall of water began
to fall. A few of the bums were still aware enough to realize what what
happening. They began to scream, shrieking in fear. Others took notice.
Panic swept the crowd. They turned to run back to the river bank, but there
was no way, no where near enough time. In an instant they would be crushed
by a million tons of water. Five hundred souls would be gone in a flash.
They prayed to God but wondered what good it would do. Isn't this what
he wanted?
Green light exploded past them, temporarily blinding them. Stunned,
they blinked away the spots in their vision and saw that the water had
stopped falling. It had been turned to ice. What? What had happened? Were
they saved? Who had saved them? They looked toward the river bank and saw
someone standing there. A figure in black wearing a gigantic red
cloak. The cape flapped and snapped as it waved around him, moving like
a living thing. For many, this was the first time they had ever seen him,
for others it was the first time they had seen him in the light of day.
He was awe inspiring, terrifying, but at this moment in time the most beautiful
thing they had ever seen. He had come to save them.
"You've got to take him out." said Cog. "Now."
Spawn turned to see the old man standing a little ways behind
him. He hadn't even heard him walk up "How?"
"Carefully." said Cog. "First, I'd try to separate him from
that bible. It may be some kind of medium for him."
Spawn nodded and dove off of the river bank His big boots sent
mud splattering in all directions when he hit the ground. He got his footing
and sprinted out toward the bums in the middle of the river.
"Go!" he shouted as he passed the first ones. "Run for your
lives."
They ran.
Rice looked miffed. "I should have known you would be trouble."
he shouted down as Spawn ran up below him.
"Come on down." said Spawn. "We can talk about it." His chains
snapped out and wrapped around a rusty hulk that used to be a refrigerator.
They snatched it up out of the mud as if it weighed nothing and heaved
it through the air towards Rice. The old appliance struck the levitating
Rice and knocked him out of the air. He came down hard, slamming into the
muck with an audible SMACK! Spawn's cape poured like a liquid in Rice's
direction and wrapped around the bible in his hands. It yanked it from
his clutches and tossed it into the air. His chains sprouted barbs, grabbed
the bible out of the air and ripped it apart.
Something fell out of the torn cover of the book, something
very un-book like. It looked like a worm or centipede, but barbed and dangerous
looking. It landed in the mud and began to shriek and writh, as if in pain.
It was about three inches in diameter and about a foot and half long. How
it fit into that little bible cover, Al had no idea.
He was staring at it, dumb-founded when Rice landed on his back
and secured him in a headlock. He was incredibly strong; Al felt like his
head was being ripped from his shoulders. He reached up and raked his claws
down Rice's face, pulling off strips of skin. Rice roared in his ear, an
inhuman, pain filled sound. The costume jumped into the fray, latching
onto Rice and trying to pull him free of it's host. Kicking and scratching,
Rice was pulled off and thrown away. He hit the ground and came back up
fighting. Where the skin had been ripped away from his face another kind
of skin could be seen. Wrinkled, scaled, reptilian skin. Could he be a
demon? wondered Al. He had no time to ponder the question as Rice was on
him again. He was sporting claws at his fingertips now and embedded them
in Spawn's throat. Spawn threw his fists into his opponent, letting the
barbs on his gloves tear into Rice's gut. It only seemed to make Rice more
angry. He pulled out Al's throat and shoved it into his face. Spawn hit
him hard in the face, knocking Rice head over heels. He hacked green, glowing
blood out of the hole in his throat and closed in on Rice.
A loud bellow ( not unlike a donkey with a hot potato shoved
up it's ass ) stopped Al in his tracks. He sensed something right behind
him. Something big. He turned to see the book-worm-thing towering
over him. It had grown. It was now about three feet in diameter and about
36 feet long. It's mouth was lined with appendages with hooks on the end
that were clenching and unclenching. They looked like that were beckoning
him into it's mouth. That mouth looked large enough to swallow him whole.
It lunged down and tried to do just that. He was grabbed into it's maw
and yanked violently up into the air. He could feel the symbiote trying
to defend him but if had been caught off guard just as he was. The cape
sealed itself around the head of the monster, trying to seal off it's air
supply. The chains wrapped around it's neck and tightened, sinking their
barbs into it's flesh. The worm bit down, trying to bite Al in half
He slashed, punched, and bit, trying to get free. Acids were rising up
out the thing's belly and burning his flesh. He gritted his teeth and fought
harder.
The worm did a face plant, slamming the lower half of his body
into the ground. He felt things down there snap. He used precious hell
power to heal it. It did it again, breaking the bones in different places.
He couldn't afford to keep using his hell power like this. He would have
to use it on the creature itself. He reached deep down into his mind, touched
the energy waiting there and channeled it outward. Green light exploded
from his fingers and tore into the monstrous worm. The head that was holding
onto him disintegrated. and he was let loose to fall free. He hit the ground
and the headless corpse of the worm landed next to him with a wet thud.
Gasping for breath, he got to his feet. Rice was no where to
be seen. Obviously he had used the opportunity the worm provided him to
make a run for it. Al looked to the riverbank and saw that the bums had
reached the safety of the shore. Just in time, too, it would seem. Al could
see cracks forming and spreading like spider webs across the ice holding
back the river. He limped towards the riverbank as quickly as he could.
The going was slow. His bones were broken and it would take precious seconds
to heal them. The ice wall began to crumble. He had to do something, and
quick. What the hell? he thought. How much power had he already used today?
What would a little more matter? As the water crashed down on him he closed
his eyes and disappeared in a flash of green fire and the stench of brimstone.
Cog found Al lying on his back at the base of the pile
of garbage that made up his throne. When he had teleported out of the way
of the rushing river he had held the picture of the throne in his mind
and hoped that he would be deposited there. It had worked. Too hurt to
move, he just lay where he landed and tried to recover. As the old man
approached, the symbiote began to twitch, like a disturbed cat will twitch
it's tail. It sensed that it's host was injured and wasn't letting anybody
get too close to him. Cog kept his distance, seeing no reason to upset
the creature.
"You did good." said Cog. Compliments didn't come often from
that old man so Al took it to heart.
"What was that thing?" he asked, his voice a pained groan.
"A Chrellian Tapeworm. They grow in the small intestines of
very powerful devils. They feed off of the shit of a demon for a few thousand
years, all the while absorbing it's powers. They in turn become very powerful.
There not very intelligent but the can be used to channel power and work
spells. It's probably what Rice was using to perform all his miracles.
It's funny. All those people thinking they had witnessed the wonders of
God and they were looking at parlor tricks powered by a worm born and raised
in devil shit."
"What about Rice? Did that little bastard get away?"
"Yes." said Cog. "On the other side of the river. He is hurting,
though. He's just a low level demon with not much power of his own. Without
the worm he won't be able to perform his miracles and dazzle people into
giving him their souls. He'll probably have to trade all the souls he has
if he wants to get a new one."
"I wish I had gotten him."
"You did enough for today. You stopped a devil from stealing
souls and saved your friends from being murdered. And most importantly,
you have their faith back. They believe in you again.
So, relax, Al. You can get Rice another day, if we see him again.
For the time being, rest up. You never know who might show up tomorrow."
The old man walked out of the dead end alley, leaving the Hellspawn to
lick his wounds.
Well that was the last issue of my three issue Spawn miniseries. I hope you liked it. If you have any comments, complaints, critiques, or cursewords, send them my way by e-mailing me at this addy bcampo@hotmail.com I'm a big boy and can handle it if you have problems with a story. I only ask if that you tell me I suck, you tell me why I suck. Tell me what's wrong with the writing. I may not agree with you, but I will listen to you. Thanks for reading..
