by John Xero
This was my great undertaking: to catalogue all the demons of the Abyss, and so bind them.
But mere paper and ordinary ink could not match such a task, when even the tamest of names might burn a hole through wood. And so I made an ink of my own blood, with my skin to serve as paper.
In burnt crimson I wrote hell upon my soul.
And bind the beasts I did. But not to banishment.
They walk the Earth in me. And for my great sin I must watch while their evil rides my body, guides my hands.