Being Watched

There is always that feeling. Waiting. Always waiting. When will it strike. Bombings. Terror. Will it be now? What will they do when they find out? Who knows? Will they realize before it is too late? Big events mean big consequences. Are you prepared? Have you put preparations in place or are you still waiting, expecting that there are no demons here?

These are the deep questions. Do not speak or they shall hear. Do not write or they shall read. Do not look or they shall see. There are seven. The fifth is extreme. Believe. Or, not.

Terror Incarnate Appears

Old building. Shabby. The top floor. An old, worn set of stairs. Needs cleaning. At the top, breathless. Five floors up. Long hallway. Door at end. Still breathless. Sweating. The merchandise is supposed to be first class and the price couldn't be better. I can order five gross and sell them in a week. Such a good margin. We shall see.

The door at the end. No sign. Just a number. Twelve. I push the buzzer. Nothing. Again the buzzer. Nothing. And, then, the face, the smell, the growling and grinding. Reeling backa and back to get away. Up against something wet and dank. Grasping claws. Away. away.

Daylight. Just a street. I have escaped. But, I am now changed.

As you are now changed.

The evil ones shall pay

Their plans have been laid bare and vengeance shall be meted out in the most just fashion, unexpected and upon the innocent for it through them that divine fate is expressed rather than through the punishment of the guilty for whom there are no tears and where there is not guilt. May the ones who will bear the brunt of wrath be the most innoncent, the most promising, the flower of the future. Left to their own devices, these will become blasphemous and expose truths that must not be laid before us as they will corrupt our faith. The dragon's skull is sacred and none shall besmirch it upon pain most severe.