Sybil turned to Raikou. "Well, that doesn't seem very good, does it?" She quickly finished eating and looked to the werewolf for direction. "Should we follow and see if he's okay, or should we go on to our own business?"

"It's a pity that you'll never know the truth. I guess it's a pity; maybe it's not. Who knows how you would have turned out. Every time I see one of you, I'm sad. I'm sad to see that such potential, such a precious gift is destined to be wasted. But you'll never know that, will you? You'll never grow up to be a rapist, or a murderer, or who knows, some kind of fascist dictator. I can tell. I can see the way your future has already been shaped by the forces that guide human destiny. Ha! I say human, but that doesn't apply to you, or rather, it won't. It's kind of a paradox, knowing that you're entirely innocent, but that you have to die because something in your future will turn you into a... a monster."

The knife edge, biting and eager, slid across pale and tender flesh, leaving trails of weeping red. Again and again, the knife danced. The walls and ceiling now dripped with human blood, from leaping arcs. The body died, the spirit released.

"There you go. That's not so bad is it? You're angry now, your soul cries out for revenge, or justice, depending on the definition of such an objective word. One man's justice is another's travesty of the same. But you'll know the truth of my actions in due course. On the other side, you'll be able to see the strands of this tapestry we call existence. You'll know what I did was right, and I hope that in time you can forgive me."

He slid the knife into the black case that hung from his belt and readjusted his long coat. He wiped blood from his face and forehead and set the child's body back onto the bed. Where once Mickey Mouse smiled from the sheets, only red and black stains were visible, in patterns that no human could decipher. But he was no longer human.

"Can you see that," he asked the quivering form of the boy's sister, "there's no need to hide over there; please come and look at this. It's fascinating; it really is. Oh, you're worried I'm going to kill you, too. Well, you needn't worry. I can see your fate, and you'll grow from this experience. What threatens to break you into a million pieces now will forge you into a stronger kind of steel. You'll be hardened, and maybe a little stand-offish, but you'll gain valuable insight into the workings of what you assume to be a criminally insane mind. Let aside the fact that you'll never understand the cosmic ramifications of what you see here, you'll still adapt your feeble understanding to become a great healer. You know what? Never mind this. I was going to show you a hopeful omen in your brother's entrails, but you probably wouldn't be able to see it anyway."

He pulled off his gloves and smiled at the girl. He crouched down to see her, talk to her face to face. She recoiled in horror from the man who had just gutted her brother-- the man who sounded like he was being played back at the wrong speed. He reached into his pocket as he spoke again.

"I... have some... here, some peppermint sticks. Trust me, this is for the best. Your brother was a good boy now, only 6 years old and still virtually pristine, but inside him was a seed of evil. I couldn't just stand by and let that go unweeded, could I? I couldn't let it take root in the garden that is our world. And something good comes of it: you'll become a psychologist, or a-a doctor or something great. Just try to understand that. Now, when your mom and dad wake up tomorrow, feel free to tell them everything you remember about me. You have to be good, tell the truth no matter what, or else you risk becoming a liar, a snake. And snakes get stepped on. Tell them everything; they'll never find me where I can hide, so it's okay. And I won't take it personally, I understand fully your need to try and do something about me, and all of this... unpleasantness."

The terrified girl shook violently from shock. He stood, scratching his head. He had hoped that she would at least take the candy. Instead, he put it on the dresser next to the girl, his eyes lingering for a moment on the stuffed unicorn that smiled there. He took the girl's blanket from the top bunk of the bed and wrapped it around her. Seeing she was in no mood for his placation, he sighed with resignation and stepped toward the closet. As he reached into the shadows there, he took a moment to look back and see if the girl's destiny had changed. He smiled when he saw she had the candy in her hand. He closed himself in the closet and began the change.

His skin shifted and peeled with a thin squelch, the shreds pulling themselves together, tighter and blackening. His body seemed to splash to the floor in a cascade of thousands of spiders. The colony of arachnids seeped through the cracks in floorboards and into the ceiling, and altogether vanished without a trace.

Sybil shivered and fell to her knees. "Oh, holy hell," she began. Something was wrong, something was very wrong. She could feel it in her bones, but she had no clue what it was. She forced herself to her feet and stumbled out onto the street, seeking comfort. Jinx was there, as he always was, rubbing against her legs. Sybil knelt and took him in her arms, shaking. "Oh Jinx," she murmured, "I'm so afraid. Something's wrong, something's unhealthy in our city!"
Jinx merely purred against her and whispered soothing nothings into her ears. "It's okay, Sybil. We'll figure it out and fix it, I promise!"

The church was nearly empty. The light of dozens of candles flickered in the corner of his eye. He could hear mumbled prayers for forgiveness, healing, hope. He could hear the whispering of confessions. The smell of incense and the warm light from the chandeliers made him feel at peace. He stared at the massive stained glass suffering of Christ that occupied the whole of the wall behind the altar.

I wonder why I was never taken to church when I was a kid. I wish my parents could have understood the guidance, and moral strength I'd need. God, grant me endurance. It's so hard to persevere, seeing the faces of those you call me to cull. They are so frightened, and I... I just want so badly to love them, and give them a warm hand of friendship. I wish there was some way I could guide them away from their dark destinies.

It was all pointless, he knew. There could be no relenting, and the idea of wanting to help the enemy, while perhaps noble on it's own, was misguided. There was no fate which could be altered by him. It was his gift and his curse-- to watch, and to see the need to act as a good shepherd, but to never be able to change the nature of the flock.

I understand that it was by your grace that I was burdened with this demon that rides my body. I thank you for giving me the wisdom to know that, and to know how to use it's dark augurs for your good work.