Darkroom Saga Omnibus 1 by Poppet

Author:Poppet [Poppet]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781907954351
Publisher: Wild Wolf Publishing
Published: 2017-11-27T22:00:00+00:00

~ Chapter 11 ~

...you will feel all the force of my anger and rage,

until I am satisfied.

~ Ezekiel 5:13

James:

John the favorite. The beloved one. So God gives him more than he gives us? Seventy-two? More than one disciple deserves and more than one can handle. And the conceited bastard cannot turn this one from evil?

Well let me show my brother how this shit gets done. He won't be superior in father's eyes after this.

Her beauty makes her stumble. That is the source of her pride. It is a process he says. Ha! My fucking ass it is. Women are not resistant to the truth of their flaws if you strip away their pride.

I suit up, because he wishes it, but I want to show myself to this one. Full control for a day? The others can wait for their food and manna. This one needs deliverance. She needs to be shown the glory of the Lord.

And who better to show her than yours truly? I'm the real deal baby. Clearly John has shown you too much mercy, which is why you stubbornly refuse to repent. Unzipping my supplies left in John's chamber, I stroke the armor of my rank with affection, pulling it out, secretly pleased my shoulders are wider than his, my girth superior in every way.

We wear leather because it's easy to clean, impervious to most weapons, and scares them shitless.

The weakness of the female still tempts us to eat forbidden fruit, to join her in sin. That woman calls for absolution even through the cold, flat, screen of the darkroom. She is ready for the next level, to know true worship, to comprehend the depth of love we bestow on wicked flesh.

I watched Victor work for many years, learning the craft of female vanity and weakness. He cut them up, then put them back together so they were more perfect than they were before he remade them. The Satan of Lot’s daughters dwells within her; lucky lady, I have a cure for you. I will deliver you from your satanic devotion, cutting out the evil within you.

Stripping off my peasant disguise, leaving jeans and t-shirt next to my boots, I stroll clad in my disciple trousers to locate the guise she'll commune with. She is an animal, so I will meet her as one she can recognize. Moving through John's lounge I hoist up the bear skin from our hunt three winters back. Draping it over my head and shoulders, I feel goddamn ridiculous, but we do what we must. At least I have my leather jeans on. The rustic ink-black nappa is comforting. Meet them on their own level and all that shit, degrading our holiness for their salvation. It riles me enough to put me in a pissy mood.

Running a discerning eye over the selection of devices, I select the small blade. Twisting it, assessing the edge, I test it with my thumb. Oh yeah, this will work a charm. Christ be praised, and may the Lord seize the praises of this diabolical child.

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