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Edward sat straight up. “This place? You mean my farm? Here?” Wallace nodded slowly. Abitha steadied herself against the cupboard. “What … what do you mean?” Wallace gave her a cutting look. “Mind you to stay out of this, woman.”
“Angels must often do dark deeds in the name of the Lord.”
Then he saw it—the Devil, Lucifer himself.
little impish beasts
All I can think of is Dwight. Impish or admirable
“Blood is your language, your soul, your purpose. Mother Earth is showing you that you are her slayer, her champion, her guardian, that you must protect her pawpaw tree.”
am the … slayer?” “You are the slayer.”
Hell yeah brother.
but to her great horror, spiders, tiny black spiders—hundreds, thousands, millions, blotting out the very sky. They covered her arms, her legs, her face until she couldn’t move. They crawled into her mouth, her nose, her ears, her eyes until she couldn’t see, hear, smell, or breathe, and her pulse, their pulse, slowed, faded, then died, and all became darkness, nothing but endless darkness.
Noooopppe
“Just be wary of the spiders.” “Spiders?”
Yes. Fuck dem spiders
“Mind your own houses!” Abitha cried. “You are all naught but a gaggle of clucking cunts!”
“There is no peace in slaughter.”
Says you
“Angels must often do dark deeds in the name of the Lord.”
👏🏼
Abitha could see that these people believed, truly believed, that they were doing God’s work here this day. And there was something about these people that horrified Abitha even worse than those whose faces were lined with cruelty.
But this belief, this absolute conviction that this evil they were doing was good, was God’s work—how, she wondered, how could such a dark conviction ever be overcome?
