The second symbol is indeed close. As the blood-tainted drawing on his nose and (partially) forehead suggests, the Inverted Cross is within an arm's reach. The transformation is almost complete. When the cross is inverted, a new you is born...

Chapter 2: Frankenstein

The moonlight shines bright into a puddle of water as it is distorted by hastily leaving feet, getting the living hell out of there. The shining red light emitting from the far away Red Cross symbol is visible, even from the far end of the dark alley. The situation is rotten, literally and figurative speaking. Pus, filth and moisture drips from the weakened cement between the discolored bricks of the building on every side of the alley. Smoke and sewer gas fill the air and make it look foggy. Bugs and other flying riff-raff swarm around open stereotype grey tin trash cans, filled up with open refuse bags. The content is simply your everyday domestic garbage, but after a few weeks it starts to look like a shit-stew.

Loitering youth and petty thieves quickly make their way out of the alley; they lost a comrade to a fire axe in his skull. Blood seeps out the back of his head as he is thrown face down in a chock-full trash can. Carefully, almost psychotic remorseful, the lid is put over the head as the offender of this emotionless crime pads on it. The unlucky guy and the rest tried to rob the wrong man. Messing with a bearer of the Sigil of Lucifer is not the smartest thing you can do, unless you thought it was expensive carnival outfit. A circle is formed around the Sigil right under his ear. The flesh around the symbol starts to bubble, as if it's cooking. It boils away and leaves a small hole in his still 'fur-full' head, highlighting the Sigil even more.

As the group disappears into the darkness outside of the alley, a particular trash can hauls his attention. His shaking, too sensitive and skinless fingers grab a cord of iron wire. He lifts it out, bit by bit, almost looking like a cheap magic trick until finally he fishes it out. A lot of it is rusty but that doesn't matter to him. Neither does the fact that it is a long piece of barbed wire. As more and more parts of his 'borrowed' fur and skin start to fall off, he happily accepts anything to keep it together.

After wrapping himself up in barbed wire, he stumbles on towards the white building with the enormous Red Christian Cross symbol on it.

*I wonder what the Sigil gives me...* he thinks as he crosses the road.

Bright white headlights shine upon him, coming out of nowhere. As the car-horn beeps hard towards the fur wrapped fox, he simply lifts his left paw towards the car. He smirks: *I call upon you, whatever you do.*

Within a split-second of forming a fully open paw, a serpentine fire forms the Sigil in the air, right in front of the car. Like getting squashed in a trash compactor, the car comes to complete standstill. Without a reaction, he walks on as the Sigil disappears. The driver has become part of the next step.

As the large cross still glows bright red, the name becomes visible:

*Holy Maria* stands on the left side slightly above bottom of the cross and *Hospital Papetoon* on the right side. His brain is already visualizing something that needs to happen: the cross must change. But first things first.

*Holy... sure...not anymore* he thinks as he stumbles towards the glass entrance. A sign hanging on the door saying Closed is nothing more than a reason to enter for him. One of the two doors flies open without him touching it all as it bursts out its hinges, shattering on the floor before him. A surgeon behind the counter in the middle of a ballroom-like hallway turns around to see that thunder strikes behind the fur-cloaked figure as soon as he sets foot on the white floor, a floor type typical for a hospital. Intense portions of rain that followed has completely drenched him and for the first time in days, he shows some other emotion than blood-lust and revenge.

'Great weather eh?' he comments only a little annoyed as he shakes his fur around like a dog. Pieces of fur let loose and small wounds made by the barbed wire spit out little particles of blood. They hit the ground, wall and ceiling. With his fur now being at least a bit dryer, he looks the surgeon right in the eyes, who doesn't believe his.

*No way! A demon in my holy hospital! In God's hospital nota bene! But wait, this can also be a homeless man, lost in the dawn of time, searching for redemption and eternal solution and peace. Finally my change to show that I had that talent!* figures the surgeon seeing something positive in something that is already too withered away to heal.

As soon as he focuses on the orange colored eyes of Délarbé, his opinion changes a lot. Not willing that everyone hears it, while he starts to shiver as sweat runs down his face and cheeks before he begins to cite Biblical verses to prove that he's right. Or worse… that he's not!

'Amen.' he ends his versing muttering. Immediately, the blood that the figure splattered around catches fire. The surgeon's eye open up wide as he mutters even more verses from the Holy Bible, he remembers from intensive studies some 10 years ago. More blood catches fire, creating a ring as it were thanks to the spatter pattern. Only the hairs of the fur and the skin of the others stay whole. They were honest Christians seemingly.

Délarbé actually looks impressed that the citing. He figured that after so many years, the surgeon didn't have it in him anymore. He walks in fearless, stepping into glass-shards as annoying and painful as Lego bricks like it's nothing. Only to grasp him by the collar and to force that his demands are to be for filled, but is quickly reminded by the fact that this place is blessed; his running speed is significantly decreased as his feet feel like dragging blocks of lead around with him. With every step he takes, the floor pounds and boils.

'Be gone from God's House you Devil's minion!' screams the surgeon as comes out from the counter. He takes off his glasses and clips it in a jacket pocket. 'The Power of Christ compels you demon spawn!'

Behind him, hospital staff still present are drawn closer to the screaming. Nurses and doctors, female and male alike, chat and prattle about the mysterious figure the surgeon is standing in the way.

Délarbé stops and looks at the surgeon with a hazy glance in his eyes. His slightly bowed head creates a shadow over his eyes. 'Don't you dare to insult my Spawn you Christian failure! I know exactly what and who you are. And who you were.' he says on a threatening tone with a fanged smirk. 'Besides, I'm not the Devil's minion.' he states.

Only visible for the surgeon and for Délarbé himself, a creature envelopes himself around Délarbé, who is just checking out his nails, polishing them a bit using a loose part of the wire. The creature looks like a demonic fox head on a red, maybe a tad of crimson, dragon tail with a spiked ball at the end.

'I've accepted the demons, the evil within me. I'm a hybrid!'

A shockwave runs through the entire building after the sentence. It drops a few nurses in the back, entertaining Délarbé a little.

'Yes. I' am that strong.' he bluffs.

The real reason is that the creature that circled around Délarbé left through the ground that is seemingly a gateway back to Hell. Délarbé watches him go, sending the creature a vile glare with. Things seem to be rather rocky between the two.

'You should do the same.' brings Délarbé up when his attention to the surgeon again. 'It feels so much better...' he claims.

'You... you are a hybrid!?' His voice becomes hoarser as his expression simply emits fear. His whole body feels imprisoned in a tube where he can't escape from. His arms, simply hanging next to his body, give no response. Only a few fingers are able to move slightly. He feels his heart beating in his throat. Unclean thoughts of his past shoot before his eyes.

'Indeed.' confirms Délarbé proud. 'I'm still sane, but also insane. Weird nah? Almost Perfect Insanity, almost...

'Impossible!'

'Yeah, try to figure that out with your limited religious brain.' adds Délarbé ridiculing. The power he feels over the surgeon is simply said glorious. 'Just follow as my example and feel the chains of love, moral and goodness, that rotten Trinity of Lies, fall from you. Feel the freedom!'

'No, never! I...I'm married to God!' he states as he shows his pearl purity ring. Every priest, at least on Papetoon, wears one to show their lifelong devotion to God. The glare that Délarbé gives nearly melts the pearl as the surgeon quickly retreats it. It shouldn't melt when a hybrid, let alone a demon should look at it. Something is clearly off about the surgeon-turned priest.

'We both know that's not true.' The step Délarbé makes the moment he says the sentence, sends red beams through the lines between the tiles of the floor and hooks themselves into the feet of the surgeon, nailing him to ground and filling his body with pain. Délarbé closes his eyes and allows the entire lifeline of the surgeon to be played in his head. In search of something dirty.

'Huhm... very interesting.' he reads after some searching. 'I was right when I said that I knew you. You were priest I see?' He looks up at the surgeon, who can only nod. 'Explains the citing of Biblical verses. Not the highest, but certainly not the lowest. Oh! Nice newspaper article you got stuck in your head. Let me read it out loud for all staff still here and behind you to hear. Ahum...' he haggles in preparation for a read aloud.

'STOP!' interrupts the surgeon as he cringes a little. He reaches his right arm out for Délarbé. A sign of peace, of love. Délarbé doesn't really know how to deal with that, looking puzzled. 'Don't do this.' pleads the surgeon for Délarbé's own good. 'Hell isn't a comforting as you might think my deeply confused child. I...I can still save you. As you said, you still have sane. I can help you. God can...'

'FUCK HIM!' screams Délarbé aloud, shaking the hospital once more.

Thunder strikes again, but this time it strikes twice. The first one hits the grass field at the hospital entrance. The second one however hits the hospital's electrical outlet. It causes an electrical-breakdown that activates the emergency generator. Another thunderbolt strikes. This time, the bolt strikes into the large red cross, breaking off the left and right sides sticking out of the main body. Now loose from the body, the drop down and fall upon the blocks showing the name of the hospital. The pure and glorious Cross turned into the second symbol, that Délarbé has to collect. This causes the electricity currently flowing through the cables to cause massive fires and fry the emergency generator. The lights go out and a red, neon gleam coming from under Délarbé's feet are the only light source. The once holy house of God has turned into the underbelly of Hell itself.

'FUCK GOD! When I needed him, he turned his back on me... Me, who in a previous life saved Lylat more often than he created new people in this accursed system! You know what happens, doc, when a man breaks down and even God is not there to help him? He goes on quest, to find himself. A normal man, would find peace. A hero, finds his exact opposite. And like positive and negative, they are attracted to each other.'

He opens his paws in front of him, forming a bowl. Serpentine flames form in plain air and shape two magnets. Three blocks appear between the magnets.

'May I introduce you to the three plagues of life: Love, Moral and finally: Goodness.' he shows as each block appears when its name is mentioned. 'I have no idea what commandments are that they include but that's not important.'

*Writer interruption*

To pay the least bit of respect to everyone with a different religion, here they are. (this is according to Catholics)

Love contains Commandments: 1, 6, 9,

Moral contains Commandments: 2, 3, 4, 8,

Goodness contains Commandments: 5, 7, 10

Sorry for the interruption.

*Writer interruption*

'These blocks, are the only thing standing between a man meeting his evil self, and be complete. Embracing it, is a choice. Having it, isn't.' he states as the flames disappear.

'But enough explanation. I embraced it and have not a single bit of regret. But I can sense regret in your decision doc. That regret... is you giving in to my cause. Make me complete doctor Frankenstein!' he commands as he quickly raises his arms, with that throwing of his fur-coat before it falls on the ground without a sound. Except for the rusty barbed wire, that clings on the ground. Residues of blood that haven't yet spattered on the ground burn up immediately. The fur-coat is brown, grey and black, composed of the fur of the shot down wolverine, the black feline and the owner from the butchery the morning before. With the fur-coat gone, the nurses and other staff nearly faint as Délarbé is completely skinless and naked.

The surgeon can only watch in horror. All of his muscles, bones, male gentiles and arteries are visible while his ribcage is pounding irregular. His heart is still pounding, although it looks like boiling. Because he has no skin anymore, the cold get to him pretty quick. Only a moment later, he's shaking until he turns up the heat.

From the fine lines in between the floor and walls, fires erupt as they crawl their way up to the ceiling. Crosses, hanging on the wall, melt under the dense pressure and heat. Only the top of the crosses melt and drip downwards, where they fastens themselves to the underside, forming an inverted cross. Jesus's eyes are bleeding as they disappear in a black void. Only a second later, the Jesus made from cast-iron falls of the cross completely and clings on the floor.

Délarbé lifts up his left arm as the shadow of it is portrayed on the wall on his far right. He opens his paw and the shadow grabs right into a peak of fire coming from the floor. With a firm pull, he pulls it towards him as he encircles himself with it

'Doc...' he states demonic and thwarted. 'You have a dying patient over here... aren't you gonna do something about that?' he asks cynical while he waddles around on his spot, getting bored out of his mind.

Pointing at him with a shaky finger, he says with a shaken voice: 'N..n..nurses, bring t...the p...p..patient to t...the operating table, pl...please?' he stutters.

A bed on wheels is rolled towards him. With the nurses having a hard time touching the skinless Délarbé, getting him on the bed is hard time. It finally succeeds however bandages are put over his wrists and ankles, preventing him from escaping. Pulled tight, it pops a small artery splattering blood all over one nurse. It catches fire as the nurse runs away in distress.

'No worry darling!' shouts Délarbé after her. 'It's only a form for slow, self-igniting napalm.' He lets out a roar that echoes through the hospital as other present try to put the fire out. A second later, the napalm catches fire explosively, sending the helping staff flying for a bit. Délarbé is having the time of his life, laughing until it hurts.

'Send him away!' commands the surgeon before turning to the already burned to dead nurse. He closes her eyes and prays to God for a brief moment before following the bed with Délarbé on it. They take the elevator as the flames spread further than just the walls. Still laughing as they enter the operation room, the dried up inverted cross on his nose catches fire as well. As all nurses, male and female, jump away in fear, he snaps the bandage on his left wrist and grabs the collar of one of the assistants already present in the room. He pulls him towards him while the others are standing against the wall, not willing to interfere with whatever he's gonna do. He starts to heave again and vomits the black-red blob all over him. He lets go of the goo-infested assistant as he nearly runs into surgeon arriving in the room. Behind him, he carries a small cart filled with the fur-coat and the barbed wire. He crosses himself upon seeing the flame and terrified hospital staff.

'Please, c..can you put that out?' he asks somewhat calmer. 'If only so that we can do what you want.

As the bandage on his left wrist is put back on, Délarbé looks up to surgeon.

'Of course. Cause you ask so nicely...' A snap from his fingers is enough to make fire die out as the nurses and assistants come closer. 'What now doc? An exorcism?' he asks dry and cynical with a raised eyebrow.

'No...' replies the surgeon as he puts on a latex glove. 'I'm doing what I'm supposed to do. *Let the Lord be with me as I create a monster... Amen.* I can't let a patient die, no matter his religion...' he states with a swallow in between.

'Good boy!' complements Délarbé. Now, you have your parts... What are you waiting for? I don't have all day. Only the night!'

The light bulb still working above him pops as Délarbé prefers some blood-red scenery lightening, coming from the now burning ground floor.

'If you mind... doc?' asks Délarbé just to make sure that his surgeon feels comfortable on his terms.

'Ahum... certainly not.' he states restrained. He hates this more than hearing about his past as Doctor Frankenstein. Some scar that name has become. And now a hybrid is using that to manipulate him.

He walks over to a few cabinets in the room, containing several bottles full of medicine, all sorts of bandages and syringes. He grabs a clean syringe, still in a plastic package, and a bottle of anesthetic out of one of the top cabinets. The bottle has a small hole in it as he puts the needle in it, before preparing a wealthy dose.

'Don't you even dare!' shouts Délarbé all of the sudden. 'I will not be unconscious when you create me doc. And please, don't do stitches. Nooo! I..I want you to latch the wire to my body! Like, wielding two metal plates together. In this case, the barbed wire will act as the glue for the skin and fur. I'm sure, you have a device for that, don't you?'

'We don't have that in a hospital...' confesses the surgeon.

'THEN YOU GET ONE!' shouts Délarbé with a punishing voice. It echoes throughout the entire hospital, shaking its foundations once more. With a deep, reluctant sigh, the surgeon leaves the OR and takes the elevator downwards, with Délarbé's horrible laughter still ringing in the back of his head. The elevator doors open and show that the fires haven't spread that far out yet. His brown leather coat is still hanging on a small hook near his desk behind the counter. He picks it off. He carefully maneuvers around the shattered door and opens remaining the glass door to witness that the cross on top has turned as well. The thrash-compacted car is still on the road, smoking a little. He crosses the road and witnesses from the corner of his eye, the alley where the 'troublesome' teenage thief is having a trash can inspection.

The rain is still pouring down. With the lighting striking for the fourth time, he puts on a hood and starts to run towards the local D.I.Y. shop only a few dozen meters southwest of the hospital. A card displaying the opening hours off the shop shows *till 23:30* for today. He looks on his analog watch to see it's 23:23.

*Just in time* he thinks as he composes himself by taking a deep breath. He opens the door and a small bell rings. He knows the owner, making this all the more difficult.

'Good night Father Manggore (Mang-gore).' greets a friendly, bloated and breaded grizzly bear. If he wasn't the store's owner, he would defiantly work as a bouncer for a pawn shop or disco. He's holding an LP record sleeve of some Christina rock band by the name of Relentless Flood. 'What are you doing here at this late hour?'

'Hello Ted.' he greets well-acted. Not a whiff of suspicion comes from it. 'You know I haven't been a father for a few years, right?' He gets right to business, like he always does to keep the suspicion level as low as it is now.

'I know, but you have shown me the light. No matter what, you will always remain the Father to me. Well, what can I do for you?'

'I need a wielding device.' asks Manggore before his nose starts to tingle. The rain caused him to get cold… already?

'A wielding device?' repeats Ted looking odd. Why would the current surgeon of the hospital need a wielding device?

'Yes... you know? A wielding device.'

'Sure, sure. But, why?' he wonders as he turns around. He opens the door to the storage behind him and enters it.

'Uhm... personal reasons.' replies Manggore after some quick thinking.

From inside the storage, he hears no reply other than things falling on the floor. The clinging of iron on the floor masks a different sound...

*He is apparently too busy finding it. It shouldn't be that hard, right?* he wonders.

'Got it.' hears Manggore. However, it doesn't sound like Ted at all. His voice is always full of life-force, always joyful. Like a jolly Santa. This sounds completely toneless. Ted comes out of the door, holding the device, complete with mask and everything else as he slams it on the counter. He looks at the Father with a lifeless look in his eyes and a pale face. He looks deprived of all life.

'Get out of here... please...' he states.

Manggore grabs it and gets out of the store very fast. *Ted isn't Ted anymore... What is happening?*

He crosses the street immediately and walks towards the hospital, with an odd underbelly feeling. Something tells him to get out of here, the other tells him to get back as fast as he can. He stops thinking. He runs like a programmed robot towards hospital. But it isn't his hospital anymore; the goo-infested assistant is praying on the spot on the lawn where the first lightning bolt struck, but he prays in reverse.

Before the word *Holy*, *un* burning in red letters. He turns around, hoping that he's not the only one seeing this. But the streets are empty, as even lights inside the D.I.Y. are turned off. The time is only 23:27.

In the back of his head that faces the hospital, he feels two spots, burning him and he hears a loud static. He turns around, to see Délarbé, staring at him with his eyes wide open at him. His irises still have the same color, but are disfigured: forming a pentagram. The middle of his pupil has a red dot, each one gazes into Manggore's soul. In his left paw, he holds a small jar of flammable liquid and a lit match in the other. A trail leading back to the hospital is seen sparkling in the moonlight.

'Your assistants and nurses were pathetic...' he states. 'No medical experience at all. Tasty though...' he smirks as blood drools from his mouth. 'So! I did it myself? Like it?' he asks as he shows off his new fur. It's of a lighter ash-grey, full of dirt and dried up and liquid blood alike. Marggone wonders why his new fur is sticking to his body while he doesn't see any wire connecting or keeping it on his body.

'The rest?' notices Délarbé. He taps on his body, letting Manggore hear a metal CLING. 'It is behind the fur itself.' The barbed wire is indeed used as the glue between the flesh and the fur. It's only shown around his lower legs, erupting from behind his knee.

'Unfortunately, all this isn't complete yet. You see, my demand was it would be latched on my body itself. Without a clean fire, there is no way that can happen. That... is where you come in, Dr Frankenstein. And yes, your real name. An aesthetic surgeon on the loose, murdering and mutilating innocents until he saw the light of the Lord! Blah blah, religious bullshit etcetera.'

The assistant's prayer has stopped, as he now completely engulfed in the black goo. He turns around to face the surgeon and glares at him with yellow eyes. Not only his irises, but the entire eye is yellow. A yellow inverted cross appears on his forehead as he opens his mouth, breathing heavy.

'Join us...' he mutters. The surgeon looks at Délarbé, who doesn't show any response whatsoever to that. He has more important things to do.

'Now, complete me!' he demands as he flings the match up in the air behind him. The match lands in a room in 5F, soaked in the same flammable liquid. As the fires spread through the hospital, the windows bursts and the walls start to crumble.

The static gets even worse as also his vision is getting distorted now as well. Static, alternating with horrible images of his employees, lying dead to the sides of the walls, on the bed or against the cabinets with ripped open throats. From that to innocent patients with ruptured stomachs, as if something exploded within them. The images bring him to his knees, enraging him and almost forcing him to set Délarbé on fire with the wielding device. Something he really wants.

'Do it...' mutters the transformed assistant as Manggore gets on his feet again, trying to fight the indestructible argue to kill Délarbé. As Délarbé already sees it happening, the still present Inverted Cross made in blood on his nose flows over towards the Sigil under his right ear. It swirls around directly under the Sigil, at the height of his eyebrow. The fire is already on the 2F and is quickly following the trail downwards via the stairs. He looks upon his bottle and sees that a little bit is left.

'Geh... wouldn't you look at that? There is still a bit left.' he shows as if he cares a lot. This snaps something in Manggore's mind as he stands erect, with the wielding device ready in his hands, with the fuel tank on his back, presenting itself as a flamethrower. The fire makes its way outside the moment Délarbé open the lid of the jar. Manggore turns the device on, at the exact moment that Délarbé throws the leftover liquid towards him. The small blue fire emitting from the barrel, turns into a jet flame that engulfs the front side of Délarbé. It clashes with the fire coming from the hospital, now engulfing the entire backside of Délarbé. Two sides that coexist and burn Délarbé in two ways, only enhancing his hybrid form

'I HAVE NEVER KNOWN SUCH EXQUISITE SUFFERING!' he complements to Manggore and the fire itself.

'BURN IN THE FIRES OF HELL YOU BEAST!' screams Manggore. Délarbé's unmelted face comes out the blue fire.

'I already am... and I LOVE IT! WHAHAHAAHAHAHAHA!'

The hospital behind him explodes in furious fireball as it blows away the surgeon, falling on the ground with a now empty fuel tank. The explosion also signals the end of the fires coming from there. The swirl stops turning and now finally forms the second symbol: The Inverted Cross, a new you. Délarbé indeed looks a lot better. His fur and skin look like they were always part of him. The front of him now has clean and clear, spooky grey color. Not pale, but not dark either. His face, is also the same color where it used to be reddish brown. He has red outlining over his arms, two lines running down to his crotch and also over his legs. His back however, is completely scorched. Blackened and hard as a boulder. He's Doctor Frankenstein's creation: a new you named Délarbé!

He places his right index and middle finger right under his newly acquired symbol. He lifts them from his skin and sees that a yellow cross is floating above it. He points it at the assistant as it flies towards him. It envelops itself in the already present cross on his forehead. Like a boost coming through he transforms into a Gollum-like creature as he joins Délarbé's side. Délarbé pets its head as it purrs unnatural. Manggore tries to stand up as he drops the tank. It falls off his back and onto the ground. He looks up, to see that Délarbé's shadow engulfs him.

'Join me Manggore. Your inner Dr. Frankenstein demands it!'

Délarbé's face is emphasized by the fires of the collapsed hospital as his eyes stare upon his Manggore's forehead. He puts his two fingers under the symbol and points at the surgeon.

'Your mouth says no... but your mind is already set. Your faith is gone and I'm your savior now. Accept me!'

'Who are you?' His voice stagnates.

'I'm what my life made me. What…' He looks up into the sky. '…she made me. I... AM... DAMAGED! DÉLARBÉ! DAÑADO!'

The cross flies towards his forehead while Délarbé preaches during his transformation: LLEH OTNI EHT EVIG... THGIN ETH ,SSENKRAD EHT OTNI EHT EVIG... NERDLICH TSOL EHT OT EMOCLEW... REDNULP FO SNOS EHT TO EMOCLEW! (Reversed: Give into the Hell... Give into the Darkness, the Night... Welcome to the Lost Children... Welcome to Sons of Plunder!)'

Not much is necessary to turn Manggore into another Son. He screams his dear life out, but it doesn't help. God has abandoned him as well. He has been living a lie ever since his became a priest. This is the real him: Doctor Frankenstein!

The now transformed Manggore rises from his cringed position. His forehead cross is slightly bigger than the other, establishing himself as the leader. Délarbé sends out three more crosses who fly over the city with a loud screech, entering random rooms, looking for a victim.

When they settle, the city is silent again. Until a few seconds later, cars are heard squeaking as their brakes scream. Windows shatter and people shout and cry for help, calling 911 all over as three more join at Délarbé's feet. All are petted by him personally, as if it was the highest honor.

'My Sons of Plunder! This night belongs to us. Ravage this city! Let the world know… no… let her know what has been unleashed.' he commands as the Sons spread out into the nightly city.

No obstacle or wall is there to stop their climbing and crawling as Délarbé's ears are fed with the screams and fears of those unlucky enough to be confronted by them. For a hole in his back tooth, he grabs a small piece of paper. Drawn upon it, are all 6 symbols on the left. The sixth, is forbidden. On the right, stands what the demands are for acquiring it. The first one is already ripped off, the Sigil of Lucifer, with these demands:

5 tortured souls
Flesh of the innocent
Virgin blood

The rest contains:

2nd symbol: Inverted Cross: Get rid of the old you and force someone to create a new you
3rd symbol: Double-Bladed Axe: Breaks any leftover family bands
4rd symbol: All-Seeing Eye: Ruin a life from within a dream, turn it into the worst nightmare
5th symbol: Anarchy: Create a ravage of beyond war capabilities
-FORBIDDEN-FORBIDDEN-FORBIDDEN-FORBIDDEN-FORBIDDEN-FORBIDDEN-
6th symbol: Goat Horn of the Devil-Defeat the Devil and rule Hell itself

*Paper*

He rips of the part including the demands for the 2nd symbol and walks off, whistling the 'Twisted Nerve' theme as he walks into night.

With the second symbol acquired, he is already searching for the third: the Double-Bladed axe. However, it will prove somewhat harder than the rest...

Finally finished this chapter. Somehow, since I put Resurrection on ice for a while, I started to get more inspiration for Perfect Insanity. Hope you like it...

Damaged... Délarbé... Dañado...

-Phantomfoxx