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do everything in my power to prove these creatures are foul and loathsome.'

God interrupted, Thank you my Lucifer, I have decided.'
That was when I felt it, I was falling, I looked to my side and all of us were falling. This was when Angels fell from the sky. We fell away from God, away from grace and into the hearts of Man."

Mojave Dessert, California.

The heat made the world shimmer as if the air was water. This was always funny to Jack, like nature's joke. He drove his off road truck lazily, bouncing in his seat with every bump. He loved off-roading in the desert. He skirted the mountain ranges and darted through the valleys with ease in his truck. He cherished the exhilaration and danger of this trek, but not because of the drive, but what he carried in the back.

Jack's real name was Bobby Delran, but when he was in the truck, in the desert, he went by Jack. Jack was a bad man, Bobby knew this, but as long as it was Jack doing the dirty work Bobby felt okay. After all it was not his fault he was a schizo. If Bobby had been a bit educated on mental illness he would have discovered that multiple personality was not part of Schizophrenia and of course that "normally" the personalities were not aware of each other. Jack and Bobby did not care about either because they were one person. Bobby was not insane, he was just a sick bastard who felt the odd bit of guilt.

As he approached his destination his heart quickened. He turned the last bend and saw his second home, his real home. Carved in the side of the mountain was an Old Spanish mission. Jack marveled at the workmanship and labor it must have taken to build such a place, to then be forgotten was a shame for the builder, but heaven for Jack.

Built like a church, it gave him a sense of holy purpose. Though he felt mild pangs of guilt for his actions, it never stopped him from killing. Jack was good at it, better at killing than anything else he had ever tried. Always caught robbing, raping and fighting, never caught kidnapping and killing. He had made the assumption long ago that the higher the sin the easier it was to get away with it.

He skidded to a stop and jumped out of the truck. He did not run to the back of the truck, she could wait. He had things to prepare; he wanted to tidy up a bit for his guest. He giggled as he walked through the carved archway into the mission. The smell should have been much worse than it was. The dry air helped move out the stench of death. There were bodies positioned along

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