"Colonel, you wanted to see me?" The click of a closing door. A man enveloped in smoke. Threadbare fabric snagged on barbed wire. Blood soaked white roses. Soldiers' maimed bodies. A sharp inhalation. "People are dying because of my lack of integrity." The furious writing of equations of on a chalkboard. "You'll go insane trying to disprove that." The exhalation of smoke. A man gnawing on a cigar butt. The ticking of an incessant clock. A mixed look of compassion and fear. A fateful drum roll. The bellowing of orders. The single united blast of fifty guns. Exhalation of a painful last breath. The life of a god extinguished.

Victory. Dancing, merriment, drinking, whores. "Do you see anything you like? It could be yours you know. I could make it yours." The Last Supper. Two bodies intertwined, bound by necessity and power. Gasps of passion fused with the music of aparty. Void of emotion. A violin sings. Technically masterful. Flawless. Played at hyper speed encompassing the musician in a cloud of rosin powder.

"What?! That's not possible! This thing must be disposed of!"

"It's against the law."

"You don't understand!!"

A faltering voice. A sharp self-inflicted pain. A small androgynous figure in the dark. Blue veins visible through transparent skin. Goggly eyes burning like coals. Hair like hellfire. Rattled wheezes. "Don't you love me? I am you, after all, your creation. Your flesh. Your blood." Impish laughter vanishing behind a cloud of smoke.

A closet. Boxes that should remain hidden. Spilled over memories. A man's cruel voice. "Do you want some ice cream now?" "Doesn't it taste good? Isn't it….sweet?" The emotionless response of a child. "Ma bonne fille! You make daddy proud….oh yes!" The naïve voice of a little girl. "Vivi, go play with your dolls now!" A serpentine sneer. "Why don't you join?" Fearful pleading. "Vivi, Vas t'en! MAINTENANT!"

The deafening sound of snowflakes falling from the heavens. Crystalline structures entangled in tongues of fire. Two red haired figures tumbling the snow. The younger one, pretty, unspoiled, still oblivious to the horrors of the world. The older one smiling her first and last genuine smile. Small sibling annoyances ignited. An argument caught on tape by a video camera. A glass knocked over. Red wine on a stack of papers. Silence broken by a single stinging punctuated note. A rouged cheek. "You shouldn't have done that." An empty guest room. A letter in a drawer with a newspaper clipping. Edges warn from repeated reading. Tear stained ink. scrawled out in frantic cursive. Final words. Innocence lost forever. No chance for apologies. "It's all my fault."

A cool breeze. Smothering. A sing-song cadence. "We're all the pawns in this cruel game of life. Who's to say which side is right? Which is black? Which is white? But there is some greater purpose, of that I am sure of -- You're in check." The staccato of metal hitting metal. The blood curdling cry of a fatal wound. "No, you fool!" A figure, limp in another's arms. Crimson hands. "You've……won…….."

A duel. Cold and bittersweet. The rush of adrenaline. A flash of light. The sword Hephaestus had forged, shattered. Memories dashed. Promises betrayed. A young man's blood on his sworn protector's hands. "Traitor!" A cell devoid of light. The sound of bones cracking. Tortured screams. Pitiless stares. Orders given by an officer to continue. "PLEASE! NO MORE!" A deafening shriek. "Mercy. Please……MER-CY!" Trial by fire.

The smell of ginseng, and orange-ginger; oriental and exotic.

"I told you I don't know what you're talking about!"

"Ma petite papillonne pauvre." Gelid fingers brushing a smooth cheek. "Not so lofty without your wings." A cold smile. Vain pleas for mercy. Pieces of ripped flesh strewn about the floor. Maniacal laughter mixed with piercing screams. Tainted good intentions.

The Son of Perdition reborn. "Judas, why do you betray me with a kiss?" A stabbing pain. Knife in a beating heart. A severed head rolling across the floor. Fixed eyes staring helplessly. Mouth pleading for salvation. The barrel of a gun entangled in writhing flames. The death of hope.

A prison of stone. A kaleidoscope of colors. Newton's theory of light. A candelabra falls. The extinguishing of candles. Lamenting stone saints, alive; weighing the fate of a soul. Blood stained tears. Tiny prisms. A towering crucifix. The pained look of Christ. Paralyzing. A figure collapses. Plunging into the abyss. The rush of frigid water. A frightful realization. Gasping for a breath that never comes. A silent scream. Trial by water.

A shadow immersed in sunlight. A messenger. A defender of justice. An archangel of God. The inevitable fight between good and evil initiated - Salva Nos.

"Don't touch me! Stay back!"


The shattering of a beaker.


Nails scraping a chalk board.


A transparent reflection.


Seven officers massacred. Five generals murdered.


The Devil's whispered temptations.


Tormented screams. Breaking bones.

The screech of a violin tuning. Hellish cackling. The clash of wine glasses. Cacophony of a party. The salty smell of cigar smoke. Suffocating. Gasps of forced euphoria.

Kersten. Doctor. Colonel.

Piercing voices. The dead, the living, the visible, the invisible; the truth, the lies, the accusations, the judgments.

She-Devil. Traitor. Judas.

The satanic chant of past, present, and future. Inescapable discord.

Kersten! Doctor! Colonel….!


The deadly singing of a skillful blade.

She-Devil! Traitor! Judas….!

Stop. Please.

The staccato of machine guns.


Please! I beg of you!

The roar of a motorcycle.



A deafening explosion of wraithlike screams.