First Interlude
Devouring the pious man was sheer delight. When was the last time the shadow had been so satiated?
The shadow’s human had promised him a famed city of secrets and power and lies.
Of monuments. Subterfuge was easy to orchestrate, people so frightened by apparitions that they clawed for twinkling trinkets.
“Now is the time for your return,” the human whispered as he held the shadow’s amulet to his chest. The entity repressed the urge to use the portal and feast on its accomplice then and there.
Its human had a firm and supple body. Its human had a psyche full of lust. Perfect for consumption.
But the entity held back. The human, despite his arrogance, had kept his promise, so the shadow would maintain its pledge.
A wise decision. Many in the city of monuments had much to hide, their skin pockmarked by guilt and shame.
Their furtive, clumsy sex suffused with violence and desperation, ready to be devoured.
Yes, the shadow was grateful to its human for opportunity.
Still, the entity preferred meat like this man of God, driven by love of art, enthralled by repressed infatuation.
The man’s flesh had begun to wither but the heart was ripe.
This was the site of true feasts. Physical union accompanied by care and closeness that the ignorant overlooked.
A stew of emotion that filled the shadow up.
That brought it closer to manifestation. That soothed its rage.
The man of God would do, no matter how he tried to conceal what he cherished. The shadow was wispy and fluid, sneaky and lithe. It would hide and wait. It would strike and eat. It would be real again. The man was just the beginning.