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“Yes,” was all I could utter. I was compelled to say aught
else.
“You had better cry quits, man-child, lest your little life
end in shrieks. I’m off to do my good business, and I’ll not
suffer the bother of sparks who think themselves stars.”
My voice was dead. I could not speak. The creature was
beyond my expectations, extensive though they were. My
purpose had melted into wonder, my confidence merely awe.
Distilled from all the macabre spectacle was one simple
realization, although its simplicity made its implication no
less monstrous—I had indeed been called upon to kill the
actual Tom Hush, the Eater of Secrets—not some hollow
prop molded from human dream. Despite the intoxicating
mystery of the creature, I’d been tasked by the Shepherd to
meet his challenge, and I meant to demonstrate my prowess.
Having no words in reserve, I roused my sisters from
their resting places, their teeth sinking into the flesh of a god.
Tom Hush broke his own silence with a roar that rivaled my
father’s, and I turned to the man wearing the straitjacket.
“Give me your name! Now!” I shouted into the broken
storm.
“Josh Link!” the man shouted. “I’m Doctor Joshua Link!
Please find me—and kill me!”
Tom Hush’s outrage melted the dream of forest and night
into a ghastly scene of red-stained stone alters, where the
rotting husks of numberless men, women, and children
uncoiled in gruesome displays of ritualistic death. Looming
above it all was a somber and sinister antlered idol, whose
barely concealed smile spoke to an endless fascination with
humanity’s ridiculous attempts to satisfy what they could
never hope to appease.
“You dare?” howled the daemon as my sisters laughed,
cutting and dancing.
“Yes,” was all I could utter. I was compelled to say aught
else.

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