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the walls like an audience. Their faces still held the grimace they died with. Some were already almost mummified like drying fruit.

"Hello my lovelies," Jack greeted the dead. "And you to Tommy," Jacks only experiment with homosexuality.

Jack was a sexual predator; he kidnaps, torments, rapes, tortures and then kills. He had been doing this for 15 years, with the odd break for prison here and there. He loved the power he had when he worked on a girl. In his real life he was an under achiever and rather dull. Here he was Master Jack.

He heard a sound from the far corner of the mission. Animals often found there way into the mission when he first began using it. He had learned since that mothballs were an amazing deterrent for most. He did not want his trophies ruined. He stared into the dark, picking up a long machete.

"Yaw! Yaw!" He yelled, hoping to scare the animal.

"Yaw, yaw," was the whisper back to Jack.

Jack was startled. There was someone not something, and he couldn't move. The some one came out of the dark and Jack realized quickly that it was a something. He looked at the figure in terror. He knew it! He had seen it before. Where? Jack searched his cloudy mind.
"On the wall," it whispered as if reading his thoughts.

Jack looked at the wall of the mission and there it was. Jack fainted.

Jack awoke finding himself lying down on his table. He was strapped down and unable to move. The creature was there; it had its back to him. Jack saw the wings that looked sickly wet. The creature turned to him. Jack sensed it was smiling, but could not see if it was.

"If you kill me you won't find the girl," Jack muttered.

"The girl will die, that is life. You will die and your atonement will be long. It is time to pay for your sins Bobby!"

The screaming was louder than the wind that night and Bobby atoned for his sins over and over again.

Bombay, India.

The streets of Bombay bustled with an intensity that needed to be witnessed to truly understand. Vendors and beggars, pushcarts and cars, people by the thousands all were seeming to be going to the exact same place. The smells were as intense as the faces on the people. As you drift off the main streets and into the alleys, you entered a different world. This world was poverty and hardship; this world was made for him.

He walked the alleys as a God. Any one of these urchins could be his next victim and he reveled in the power this gave him. He was humming, happy knowing that he could take anyone at anytime and no one would care. These "people" (though "cattle," was a better term) were unloved and unwanted. Life was good to Shanto; the newspapers did not even care about his hobbies.

He looked around and saw a figure huddled in a damp doorway. He smiled broadly as he went to it. In his hand was a curved knife, it was so sharp it almost glowed. Shanto began be quickly slicing the huddled figures arm. He did this to start the screaming that he longed to hear. The screams of his victims were sweet and melodic, intoxicating in their knowledge of death. Shanto moved in closer, but realized that he had not heard a scream.
As if to answer the figure rose up from it's doorway. Shanto saw it was much larger than it appeared. He looked up as it rose to stand. Shanto looked into its face and fell to his knees screaming.

"Kali! Kali!"

The figure replied laughingly, "no Shanto, wrong God."

And the screams lasted all night, and it was a long night indeed.

...excerp from "The Angels Inside." CC 2007

Learn more about this author, Paul Rees-Jones.
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