All.
In fact, he was getting dizzy from the smell of something in the greasy substance he was drawing on his body.
When he got a little too close to the family jewels, he really panicked.
The room spun as he saw the evil-looking symbols being written on his flesh.
One was an eye, and when you came from the island, you knew the evil eye when you saw it.
“Please,” he begged.
And he was ignored.
The greasy substance smelled like animal, burnt charcoal, and some church incense.
“Why are you doing this?”
There was just laughter.
“Please! I’m married. I have a family…”
And still, no mercy was given. For all of them, they had people who loved them, but some things mattered more in the world.
Priorities.
“And you love your family?” the voice asked, knowing the man wasn’t thinking straight. The conversation with his wife had been overheard in the car.
That wasn’t love.
There was no doubt this gentleman didn’t have the capabilities to show any love.
The man nodded, tears on his cheeks.
“Yes! Please let me go home. I haven’t seen you. I won’t say shit. I promise.”
Oh, well, that was a given.
With one hand, some herbs were tossed at the candles all around the man’s body, and they flared magically.
“Oh, God. The Bruja!” he whispered.
The chanting stopped at that.
“Why do people call names? A witch, am I? Then very well, Samuel. You’re my sacrifice. Let’s begin.”
And the screams were horrific. In that abandoned space, Samuel Padilla fought for his life, but in the end, he couldn’t win.
None of them could.
For their deaths all had a purpose. With each question, they moved closer to the light.
As for the purpose, it would be one no one ever knew. In the darkness, things were balanced.
With good reason.
Lives depended on it.
The Plague Doctor’s.
