Did I just make a deal with the Devil? My body had all the tells of shitte going down. My eyes registered morning light in my room, but I was not able to process it fully. My memory had a disturbing gap that was preceded by an even more disturbing action.
“Then it is agreed.”
“Yes.”
The pact was consummated by the pouring of black ink down my throat. Ink that spread quickly into my veins and buried my consciousness further.
“These then are the symbols you will know me by and the tools you will use. And the name you shall call me is [OG].”
“So they are and so shall I.”
How did I wind up here like this? How did I go almost full circle? I’m laughing and crying because god-fucking-dammit, I’m nearly back in the Christianity I left behind except now I’m on the other side of the river. How the hell did I wind up making a deal with the Devil? A Devil. My Devil.
“I know you’re not Malphas, that you’re an entity cosplaying the character of Malphas for my benefit. But, now that I know that, I need to know the truth. Who, or what, are you, really?”
Be careful what you wish for…