Page Twenty-Four

Monsters with horns grip the mind.

Fear perched atop each thought.

Not this mind!

"Not mine!" a boy cries.

"Pick a spot aside from that, but let my head be my own."

So sly, sliding demons creep to shoulders, made for an angels weep.

Descending to Hell's high throne,

Seated on the right shoulder of the Child.

Resigned.

Redesigned.

Redefined, dulled and shined,

From cropped corpus LIVES! Frankenstein,

Lightning bolt blinds, to find dark minds.

No Rewinds,

We move on.

So death is defied by means beyond.

Talk to nothing, and the abyss will respond.

I am Kollin.

Kollin Ottenne.

The last of the Ottenne men.

If you are the last to know

Let such be so.

WOOOOOOOOAH!!!!

That's shade!

I'mma Go.

Adios.