b07/21,& 08./bbrAgain, a sense of the world moving along without him. br His back was a fire of agony that the white claudia just barely numbed; his hand was almost no good it was so stiff. It was hard to roll onto his side and manage open those packets with his stiffened and shaky paw of a broken hand so he could sniff the drug and lie there in an almost comatose state of fever dream awhile longer.br It ihad/i to have been days. He could hear the workers as they came in and out of 302; knew when a day was up by their departure. There was no darkness here; the neon sign of an across-the-street hotel lit his sickbed. Odd, because the windows were caked with grime. The walls and ceiling and even his own mottled skin seemed to move with vibrant, fevered psychedelic life. Walter wondered idly if he was dying. It certainly seemed possible. His injuries were bad, and Valtiel seemed to have no healing for him, just this rest and respite here in the storeroom of the place of his birth. br Would the room nurse him back to health for a second time?br Walter felt the pain when the drug would wear off, and he was not quiet about it. That the drug was addictive was clear too when it's decay time brought new pains with it. Walter laid there. he rolled around, and he sweated, and he cried out for his mother. br Blessedly? no one heard him. br It was as tho he in his room and they, the workers in the room as well were in separate timelines, separate realities. He was aware of them, but they seemed to have no awareness of him. He was alone in his suffering. Alone in his solace. br Alone, anyway, until Valtiel returned for him.br iget up/i voice an intrusion. Like a cop catching him sleeping on a train. Walter tried to ignore it. Feign sleep, death, whatever. Go away and leave me alone, he intoned wordlessly. iget UP/i Valtiel was not buying the ruse. there was no playing possum around an omniscient being. br Next time the irksome voice was a clarion call, a not to be disobeyed scream. br igetupgetupgetupGETUPGETbUP/b/ibr Walter scuttled awkwardly to a crouch, anyway, yowling at the voice to shut up. He spun in a hunkered circle, trying to find its whereabout."who are you what the fuck do you WANT?" he roared at it.Valtiel's presence had long ceased to be a privilege. Walter wanted nothing more than to have his head for his own again.br But the voice seemed amused by his outburst. iyou've had your 'down time'. You know what you must do./i br "I don't iwant/i to kill anyone," Walter was determined; he was staying put. fingers in his ears; yeh, like ithat/i would shut out the voice in his head. "I'm finished, alright? I don't WANT to do the ritual. Get someone else..." br It was a good thing the god had him under some sort of cloak of protectiveness, because anyone who saw or heard him now would not know what to make of the crazy man who had run screaming thru the halls of the building and all the way down to the alleys below. Valtiel had a deeper hold in him, somehow. It could ihurt/i him. he had run from the building screaming because he was sure that he was on fire. On fire, and crawling with maggots. The sensation was everything nasty that could happen to a creature with skin. He crouched in the alley now, whimpering. shook up by this little 'lesson'. iYou WILL do as I tell you. because you're mine. never forget that, Walter Sullivan. you're nothing without me here./i the voice was smug in its own surety. inow MOVE./i br Walter moved, but he was just as determined as before to not kill anyone. He wasn't going to. He wasn't. Hell, he didn't even have a iweapon/i so...fuck that.He'd show Valtiel...br igo get that/i Valtiel ordered, and Walter wasn't able to refuse. He didn't even use the little hammer to break the glass; he just punched thru - iaaah, FUCK, my bHAND/b/i- and took the fire axe. a dirty bloody torn piece of his shirtsleeve wrapped around both the axe handle and his hand as a sort of tourniquet so he could hold the haft in place.Going down the road...br iNOTgoingtokillanyone,NOTgoingto,won'tdoit.../i a monster was blocking his path. A horrid monster. Its head an expulsion of guts ilikeJimmySTONE!whenyoushothim../i, its body a hideous mutation, like a thing patched together of rotting pieces. It was clothed in bloodied cloth, like the one around his hand. Held together, rather. Walter stared at it in abject horror.br iohmygod,what IS that thing? kill it! killitkillitkillit.../i Walter charged the monster with his axe. Funny how easily it went down; it only took one swing. a mewling sob escaped it as it fell. as he stooped to inspect the hideous beast he'd just felled something sprang on his already sore back and started pummelling him... br The pain roared to life and Walter didn't think, he just acted. Shaking the figure off his back easily enough... another axe blow took this one down as easily as the other. br Funny how they seemed almost human now, these figures. smaller tho... ithe hearts/i Valtiel reminded him quietly.br "Hearts? from these? but they aren't even people." Walter almost laughed. So ithis/i was the big kill he'd been woke up from his sickbed to commit? Well, fine. If these hearts counted, he would finish up.br It had almost become rote this part, he could do it so quickly and effectively now. The hearts. the numbers. the chest cavities sewn...br He was just finishing the last one when it was as tho a fog had cleared, and he could ireally/i see what it was he'd done. br This iwas/i the big kill after all. The biggest one of all. These weren't monsters, these were iinnocents/i. Walter got up, shaking his head, incredulous. "no..."br He was standing in the middle of a suburban street. The bodies of two children at his feet. The numbers stared back at him, blood glistening, like an accusation. br Why or how he kept hold of the hearts as he ran away was as much a mystery as everything else.P

"Tricked me! You tricked me! I would never! Nevernevernevernever..." oh, he'd kept them, even stashed them with the others, but Walter and Valtiel were having a serious! discussion now. Down the back of the King Street subway station. As always no one bothered to notice the crazy guy talking to himself.br ieasy now. it was...an accident. you know i'd never steer you wrong, Walter. a little mistake. besides. i'm all you have./i the voice's argument was persuasive, but Walter was having none of it.br "I am NOT doing this again,you hear me? NOT doing it.I'm not WITH you. ok? not with you. You're NOT my friend...you're out to destroy me." it was one of his saner moments, oddly. too bad it wasn't going to last. P