A sleeping road wraps itself deeper into the realm of night. Screwtape giggles under the highway bridge. He squats deep in a corner; trash, feces and used condoms float in the green puddles of his cave.
He's holding his hands clasped tight together. He first glances up, then down the canal. He's alone. His mad chuckles grow louder. Like a blooming flower, he slowly opens his palm. Cupped in his hands is the severed hand of a man. Screwtape runs a claw along the fingertips. His eyes glow. He feels the lifeline across the palm of the hand.
The fool never tried. Never expected this. Brought it on himself...yes he brought down his own life. Destroyed it. Sealed it. The coward. He never used this hand for himself. No. Gave all he had for fear he'd fail. Fear, yes my beauty; Fear is why I took you. The man will rot. No one will find him. Fear crippled him in the end, now his corpse is crippled for eternity. Yes my precious. Be thankful for it. Fear brought you to me. Let mortals fear. Maybe I'll use you to shake their cowardly hands.
Screwtape flicked his tongue, tasting the night.
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