The Messenger (2011 reformat) Read Online Free PDF Page A

have a child of their own but wanted one so
much they took you!"
    "Oh, I
was taken, all right, Daddy. But not by people who wanted a little girl to
raise. When Mommy crashed, some men pulled me out and put me in their car. They
drove me to Baltimore. They got me on crack right away, so I'd do anything they
wanted. They tricked me out mostly, and made me be in movies. The scat movies
were the worst but after a while it wasn't so bad. I got used to it, just as
long as I got my rock. And they used me for a lot of kink Johns, special jobs,
stuff like that."
    Carlton's
mouth hung open.
    The tiny voice
in the dark continued. "Then I began to wear out from all the dope,
started to look beat. Shit, in that business once a girl's past sixteen, she's
no good for kiddie flicks and pedophiles. So about a month ago, the guys were
shooting another movie, a four-way, and one of the stuntcocks got a little
carried away. Fuckin' asshole was big as a rolling pin to begin with, and he
was all methed out. Anyway, I had a massive hemorrhage and died."
    Carlton's eyes
felt lidless.
    "And then
I came down here."
    Did she
giggle?
    "Now I'm
an odalisque, Daddy. That's what they call a prostitute down here. I'm kept by
the wardens of Grand Duke Belarius of the Drakonia Prefecture. He commands four
legions-that's about 12,000 conscripts. There's a big war going on now in the
Lowlands, so I'm in the field a lot. We have these big tents that they cycle
the troops in and out of-you know, for sexual relief. Sometimes I'm on my back
for a week at a time, one conscript after another, until the campaign's over.
There's no sleep here, either. It's an endless night, and that's all I do. Like
I said, Daddy, there's a lot of sex down here. That's pretty much what it's all
about in hell."
    "You're
not in hell!" Carlton roared so loudly he nearly blew his vocal cords.
"You're an innocent teenage girl! Even if you did die, you wouldn't have
gone to hell! You'd have gone to heaven!"
    The responding
giggle fluttered, then seemed to be absorbed by darkness.
    "Are you
sure? Things aren't always as they seem. Mommy's down here too, but she's not
an odalisque. She works on a chain gang in one of the waste furnaces in the
Industrial Zone. Everything's recycled here, Daddy, including shit. They bake
it in furnaces and turn it into bricks. That's where Mommy works, and she'll
continue to work there until the end of time."
    "This is
a nightmare! That's all it is!" Carlton shrieked, spit flying off his
lips.
     
    "Think
what you want. I have to go back now anyway. This is only a partial
discarnation. But there's a reason why he let me come here today, even for just
a few minutes. He sent me to tell you something."
    He, Carlton
thought again.
    "He sent
me to give you a message. This is the message: Behold the Messenger. The
arrival of the Messenger is at hand."
    Now the
darkness seemed to howl.
    "I have
to go now, Daddy. It's been nice talking to you. But before I go, I want you to
look in here. I want you to see me as I am now. I'm not a teenage girl anymore.
I'm a seasoned odalisque."
    Carlton's mind
was spiraling. All he could make out was the splotched silhouette. "I
can't! It's too dark!"
    Suddenly the
flashlight snapped back on. The light blared all around him.
    Then he
screamed when he pointed it into the hole.
    Belinda was no
teenage girl now, she was a mature woman-a woman, yes, and more. She lay naked
within the recess, her sleek body and long legs stretched out lazily over what
first appeared to be a couch but as Carlton let his vision focus he saw that
the couch was formed of severed hands. Some of the hands appeared to be human,
some clearly were not. Some sported more than five fingers, others had just two
or three. Some were taloned. Some were flaked with snakelike scales, some covered
with tumors, mold, or nameless filth, while still others were mummified or
decomposed down to bone.
    Then Carlton
noticed something else: the hands were moving. This demonic couch