Sheila Weese
In following with the Antioch calendar, he chose, the stolen child, to torture, until the night of the ritual. One more sacrifice to the master. Mutilated body to be later buried in the cemetery, atop caskets of passing strangers, in freshly turned soil.
Her clothes, all trace of her last days hidden beneath the rubble of the California earthquake. He had been there pretending to be digging for survivors.
His god hidden from our reality. His gruesome killings, beyond our comprehension. His plastic face, hiding his sadistic intentions. In each passing moment a new grotesque idea, forming in his imagination of ways to hide his perversions behind the secrets of the Brotherhood. For now we shall call him, the Grave Digger.
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