Sunday, August 06, 2006
New Beginning 47
"It is done your Excellency."
Cardinal Khoury looked at the shadow before him. It cowered slightly in the wan moonlight, a darker shape against the dim wall of the city. Khoury needed no light to know that his assistant, Marcus Alten, quivered not from fear but with simpering sycophantism. A trait which Khoury abhorred yet one which served, especially in moments like these. "All burnt and buried ash, I hope."
''Yes Excellency. Just as you ordered. I--"
Khoury almost felt excited. Might his simpering pet be about to ask a question? Only once before had Alten asked anything, Khoury believing he'd remedied such impulses long ago. For just a moment he lingered over memories of screams and ripped flesh; a nostalgic, somewhat erotic recollection, and one he cherished. "Alten?"
"They fell open,"Alten stressed. "And once I'd seen . . . You understand? Don't you? Any man would have looked."
Khoury stilled. "You looked."
"It was an accident." The shadow cringed. "I still burned them all."
"Please, I never meant--" A bolt of lightning struck Alton, incinerating him.
Khoury flexed his fingers, sighing. They never learned, these editorial assistants. Don't. Read. The Slushpile.
Continuation: Julia Ker