Samael Monologue
“Samael, S A M A E L. This guy reported they’ve witnessed incidents and bizarre occurrences that scare the bejeezes out of them.”
“Maybe that’s why they toe the line so stringently.” I offered as I tried to piece things together.
“I never got the opportunity to see him, but he’s supposed to be some kind of pretty boy and extremely charismatic. He’s one of those enchanting fellas capable of charming the pants off you while he twists the knife in your back. His little group of flunkies don’t keep a very low profile either. Unless, of course they find out someone is purposely looking for them. I have to say, once they figured out I’d been digging for dirt in their backyard, they came after me with a vengeance.”
“You’re okay though, right Tom?” …show more content…
“Tom? Tom, what’s going on man? What did they do to you?”
“Bert, you know me, right? You get I don’t believe in any of this hokey-pokey occult crap. I’ll tell you this though, when I walked into their so-called shop and checked things out, something inside me told me to get the hell out of there - pronto! Take my advice Bert, at least just this one time. Please! Stay the hell away from there, will you?”
I have to admit I felt a little disquieted at what he divulged. I did know him. A retired career cop, with over thirty-five years of service, hard service, he’s always been an impenetrable, grizzled, piece of rawhide. Before he came here, he worked most of New York’s highest crime infested neighborhoods and was the smartest, toughest cop I’d ever met. For him to tell me he got spooked… well, that petrified the hell out of me.
Of course, I told him I’d stay away from that group of goons. I’m nobody's hero. Never wanted to be and as far as I knew, never would be. Even though he scared me spitless with the information he just gave me, my damned journalistic curiosity was peaked. A guy with the capability to convince people he’s some kind of badass Angel intrigued me quite a bit. It’s easy to see how curiosity killed the cat. I have to get ahold of that part of myself…
“Maybe that’s why they toe the line so stringently.” I offered as I tried to piece things together.
“I never got the opportunity to see him, but he’s supposed to be some kind of pretty boy and extremely charismatic. He’s one of those enchanting fellas capable of charming the pants off you while he twists the knife in your back. His little group of flunkies don’t keep a very low profile either. Unless, of course they find out someone is purposely looking for them. I have to say, once they figured out I’d been digging for dirt in their backyard, they came after me with a vengeance.”
“You’re okay though, right Tom?” …show more content…
“Tom? Tom, what’s going on man? What did they do to you?”
“Bert, you know me, right? You get I don’t believe in any of this hokey-pokey occult crap. I’ll tell you this though, when I walked into their so-called shop and checked things out, something inside me told me to get the hell out of there - pronto! Take my advice Bert, at least just this one time. Please! Stay the hell away from there, will you?”
I have to admit I felt a little disquieted at what he divulged. I did know him. A retired career cop, with over thirty-five years of service, hard service, he’s always been an impenetrable, grizzled, piece of rawhide. Before he came here, he worked most of New York’s highest crime infested neighborhoods and was the smartest, toughest cop I’d ever met. For him to tell me he got spooked… well, that petrified the hell out of me.
Of course, I told him I’d stay away from that group of goons. I’m nobody's hero. Never wanted to be and as far as I knew, never would be. Even though he scared me spitless with the information he just gave me, my damned journalistic curiosity was peaked. A guy with the capability to convince people he’s some kind of badass Angel intrigued me quite a bit. It’s easy to see how curiosity killed the cat. I have to get ahold of that part of myself…