cobbled road. The white lamp that
normally illuminated the bridge was out but it was only a short span of
darkness and Dr Denning was not concerned.
He was not concerned because he
did not know that darkness of an altogether different kind waited for him upon
that narrow arc of shadow… darkness in the form of a tall and powerfully built
man. A man who had listened with sublime fury as the psychiatrist had preached
his lies.
Now He was here to
teach the heretic the error of his ways.
Dr Denning climbed the short
humpback bridge over the canal but as he reached the summit a dark hulking
figure stepped out in front of him. Fear clutched the psychiatrist’s bowels as
the stranger raised his arm, something black and shiny in his outstretched
fist. Dr Denning started to cry out but the lightning exploded in his chest,
seizing his heart in an unyielding grip and tightening every muscle in his body
to the point of snapping. His legs gave out and he might have injured himself
on the cobbles had He not caught him… Had He not
carried him away…
He who called
himself Lucifer…
He whose name was
Legion,
For He was many.
Chapter 9
Steve was surprised at how easily he had slipped back
into surveillance mode. Even now, as he scanned the bookshelves in WH Smiths
for something to read on the plane, he had one eye on Psimon and one on the
bustling flow of people heading for the check-in desks. His mind was in a
heightened state of awareness, primed for anything out of the ordinary. Someone
hesitating where there was no reason to stop. Someone moving too quickly or too
slowly, and of course anyone who came close to Psimon. He knew that the chances
of anything happening in an airport terminal were pretty slim, especially in
these days of increased security but he had accepted responsibility for keeping
Psimon safe and that was exactly what he intended to do.
He suddenly became aware that
Psimon had ceased trawling through the magazines and had stopped in front of
the newspaper stand and was gazing down at tonight’s copy of the Manchester
Evening News. Steve noticed the tension in Psimon’s body and moved to stand
beside him.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
Psimon said nothing, only
continued to stare at the paper’s headlines.
Steve glanced down at the front page of the newspaper and his eyes were
immediately drawn to the emotive word… TORTURE
This was the article that held
Psimon entranced.
‘Pretty grim,’ said Steve
referring to the series of brutal murders that had been in the news a lot
recently.
Psimon said nothing. He did not
appear to have heard Steve at all.
‘This doesn’t have anything to do
with…’ Steve began but Psimon had turned away heading out of the shop.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Steve as he
hurried to catch up with Psimon. He tried to slow him down but Psimon shrugged
him off.
‘Is this the guy?’ persisted
Steve. ‘The killer… is he the one?’
‘I need a coffee,’ said Psimon
brusquely. He pulled away from Steve heading for the coffee shop round the
corner.
Steve caught up with him at the
Costa Coffee counter.
‘Double shot cappuccino,’ snapped
Psimon in a sharp tone that Steve would not have expected. Psimon paid the
young woman behind the counter and moved along to the collection point where several
other people were waiting for their orders.
‘Just a coffee,’ said Steve when
she turned to him.
Moving more slowly now Steve went
over to stand beside Psimon.
‘Is it him?’ he asked quietly
while they waited for their drinks.
Psimon turned away but the
expression on his face was answer enough.
‘Then why don’t you go to the
police?’ Steve asked gently. ‘Tell them what you know. You might be able to
help them.’
‘I don’t know anything,’ said
Psimon despondently.
‘But you could tell them what
happened to you,’ said Steve. ‘Tie that to the current spate of murders.’
‘It wouldn’t help.’
‘But you could help them in other
ways,’
normally illuminated the bridge was out but it was only a short span of
darkness and Dr Denning was not concerned.
He was not concerned because he
did not know that darkness of an altogether different kind waited for him upon
that narrow arc of shadow… darkness in the form of a tall and powerfully built
man. A man who had listened with sublime fury as the psychiatrist had preached
his lies.
Now He was here to
teach the heretic the error of his ways.
Dr Denning climbed the short
humpback bridge over the canal but as he reached the summit a dark hulking
figure stepped out in front of him. Fear clutched the psychiatrist’s bowels as
the stranger raised his arm, something black and shiny in his outstretched
fist. Dr Denning started to cry out but the lightning exploded in his chest,
seizing his heart in an unyielding grip and tightening every muscle in his body
to the point of snapping. His legs gave out and he might have injured himself
on the cobbles had He not caught him… Had He not
carried him away…
He who called
himself Lucifer…
He whose name was
Legion,
For He was many.
Chapter 9
Steve was surprised at how easily he had slipped back
into surveillance mode. Even now, as he scanned the bookshelves in WH Smiths
for something to read on the plane, he had one eye on Psimon and one on the
bustling flow of people heading for the check-in desks. His mind was in a
heightened state of awareness, primed for anything out of the ordinary. Someone
hesitating where there was no reason to stop. Someone moving too quickly or too
slowly, and of course anyone who came close to Psimon. He knew that the chances
of anything happening in an airport terminal were pretty slim, especially in
these days of increased security but he had accepted responsibility for keeping
Psimon safe and that was exactly what he intended to do.
He suddenly became aware that
Psimon had ceased trawling through the magazines and had stopped in front of
the newspaper stand and was gazing down at tonight’s copy of the Manchester
Evening News. Steve noticed the tension in Psimon’s body and moved to stand
beside him.
‘You okay?’ he asked.
Psimon said nothing, only
continued to stare at the paper’s headlines.
Steve glanced down at the front page of the newspaper and his eyes were
immediately drawn to the emotive word… TORTURE
This was the article that held
Psimon entranced.
‘Pretty grim,’ said Steve
referring to the series of brutal murders that had been in the news a lot
recently.
Psimon said nothing. He did not
appear to have heard Steve at all.
‘This doesn’t have anything to do
with…’ Steve began but Psimon had turned away heading out of the shop.
‘Wait a minute,’ said Steve as he
hurried to catch up with Psimon. He tried to slow him down but Psimon shrugged
him off.
‘Is this the guy?’ persisted
Steve. ‘The killer… is he the one?’
‘I need a coffee,’ said Psimon
brusquely. He pulled away from Steve heading for the coffee shop round the
corner.
Steve caught up with him at the
Costa Coffee counter.
‘Double shot cappuccino,’ snapped
Psimon in a sharp tone that Steve would not have expected. Psimon paid the
young woman behind the counter and moved along to the collection point where several
other people were waiting for their orders.
‘Just a coffee,’ said Steve when
she turned to him.
Moving more slowly now Steve went
over to stand beside Psimon.
‘Is it him?’ he asked quietly
while they waited for their drinks.
Psimon turned away but the
expression on his face was answer enough.
‘Then why don’t you go to the
police?’ Steve asked gently. ‘Tell them what you know. You might be able to
help them.’
‘I don’t know anything,’ said
Psimon despondently.
‘But you could tell them what
happened to you,’ said Steve. ‘Tie that to the current spate of murders.’
‘It wouldn’t help.’
‘But you could help them in other
ways,’
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