There stood the priest.
With him was Adam.
Both clung to a dripping crucifix.
I screamed, "God damn!"
A dart pierced the back of my neck.
Things turned black.
There stood those vile creatures.
Mutants with the stink of Parmesan.
Rodents with the legs of frogs.
Dogs with sucker-cup tentacles.
I closed my eyes and whispered, "Where is my sun?"
They sang and shrieked.
They shook their bodies to wicked beats.
I turned and ran.
They ran me down.
In their grasp, I tried in vain.
They gutted me like I was a pedophile clown.
Days later, here I am.
Immortal, still, between concrete walls soaked with fear.
Along with another stupid painting.
YOU ARE READING
Secrets from a Church Basement: The Desperate Diary of Fresco Ayers
ParanormalGod won't save your life. But this book might. So says Fresco Ayers, a scientist struggling to save his daughter while protecting the rest of us from unfathomable perils that he helped introduce.
