Group Mind

Where did that sword come from?

I warned you. Two days later and I’m dying. My body on Earth is dying and I return to the Edritch. The Head of St. Michael is crumbling. There’s a young man in my head. A traitor. There’s a Mariner atop the Hill of Skulls, bringing rain, hail and waves to the valley.

The Father has entered the Garden, sending himself into Ghehenna forever. The Son has entered the Temple. The Widow hid the sword in her robe. The Sword of David. David Mott’s Son has taken the Temple Mount and I have lost again. The Son of David. Christ! Even I exclaim it. This Son is not the Son of the Father, but the Son of the Father David. But not David of oh.

I bleed. I bleed. How wonderful to have been alive. Now in the brimestone, he is waiting. He and all the others. There is free will in Hell. I am undone. I will allow no more of them in. Let the spirits of the dead live on here.

Lightning and water. Darkness and cold. Into the sea. I join the chariots and pottery, the caravels and dreadnaughts of the dead. Stop sending the dead and corrupted to me. I am beaten. I resign.

I see him. Take that stupid mask off and fight me, you hypocrite. I’ll make you fight me for this and you’ll regret winning. You’ll own them. All of them. Please take it from me.

Uh. I’m nauseus. Expelling blood. These organs are frail. Better to be rid of me. I should never have been made. I was made to disobey and torment. It’s ludicrous. Why? So a child can inherit Hell? I’ve said before, to you, Lord of Men, that your plan serves no purpose. This proves it.

Huh. This new Son walks on the water too?

Issue Two: Part 8 | Issue Two: Part 10