Page 80 of Babalon

What a waste, no wonder God sent me here to further corrupt the people.

Maybe that is what I need to do, set myself up on some sort of routine so I can maintain watch in more than just one section of the prison. The Lord said that I can carry out his deed in whatever way I please and it seems like this may be the key.

Breathe, my son.

The Lord said unto me.

“I—I am, my Lord.”

“Huh?” my cell mate asks.

“Shut up, I’m not speaking to you.”

“Then who are you talking to? It’s lights out anyway, get your ass in bed.”

“Did you not hear me when I said ‘Lord’? I’m talking to the man himself.”

“No, you’re not, you fucking nut case, get in your bed and stop that pacing. You’re going to wear a hole in the floor before the night is through.”

Lifting a hand, I shake my pointer finger at him—still pacing.

“You should really watch what you say to me.”

Us.

The dark voice adds.

“Us.” I repeat.

“There is no us, get in your bed before I make you!”

“Hey, pipe down in there!” shouts a guard.

Sliding my hands up into my hair, I struggle to catch my breath, my eyes twitch as I shake my head to dispel the intense feelings that are racing through me. Anger, despair, restlessness, the list goes on.

You’re weak. You’re nothing. You never should have been locked up. Look how pathetic you are, sitting in a cage with hundreds of inmates to kill and you’re walking around with no direction.

“Shut up!” I yell, leaning back as I let out a scream.

“Guards!” my cellmate yelps just as my vision goes black, my hands moving of their own volition.

Wrapping my grip around his ankles, I yank him from the comfort of his bed until his backside collides with the floor. His grunts and panics, which does nothing to slow me down. Physically, I can feel him staring up at me as I linger over him, his back leaning against the frame of his bed. Lifting my foot, I bring it down on his chest over and over again—crushing his ribs beneath the force.

I can hear his bones cracking under each blow, the following stomps feeling as if they are reaching all the way through to his spine.

The Lord is always on my side, though the guards rushed in and were entirely too late to save my victim, the warden had me tossed out of the ding-wing within a few days. The nurses alsohad me heavily medicated, which I don’t hold against them, they were lovely and very accommodating. I was warm, comfortable, and fed the entire time. It was as if mother was guiding them on how to care for her precious boy.

I have a few lingering injuries, but they don’t matter at this point as I have more important things to take care of. Having spent the better part of the past few days, when conscious, devising the rest of my plan, I know I need to set it into motion.

First thing’s first, an assignment.

I need something to do, something to keep me occupied and a cover for my specific brand of people watching. I also need to get my hands on a few people that no one would miss. The time between my last kill and my next growing ever longer and if I’m not careful, the Lord will require my blood to make up for my stalling.

Up until this point, I have never met Rosie. She seems tolerable at best. A little too into herself and her self-imposed importance as the Warden's secretary. I will say, however, she was able to give me a list of assignments that I would be allowed to partake in—given my level of violence. Though I don’t get to choose what I am allowed to do, having a place to start is better than nothing.

No kitchen duty, no woodshop, nothing outside of the prison gates. Leaves me with cleaning duty, which isn’t safe for anyone. Do you know how much toxic gas I can create with simple cleaning chemicals? Enough to wipe out an entire cell block before they wake up the next morning. There is the library, but that has been reserved for the well-behaved inmates like goody-two-shoes Kace.

Needless to say, I am very limited but when clergy is listed as an acceptable role, I grin entirely too wide. Father would be proud if he knew I have followed in his footsteps afterall, then there is God himself. I came here to wash away the sins of thesemen and the Lord always provides, placing me with the prison clergy couldn’t be more perfect.

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