“The Beast has seen it–the gleaming mile, smeared with neon, block after block of shiny whore candy, and he means to drag his dick through all of it; to grease it up, but good, so it will burn, burn with such ferocious fury that the fire will howl a banshee howl. But it won’t be the flames screaming, Dip-shit, it will be all of you, choking on smoke so thick your screams will sound like some other suffering bastard.
I seen it, Jim….the Reckoning. I seen the whole mess of you incinerated into orange embers, one charred bone at a time because cousin, you? You are the offering. You are the price of the ticket off this slimy rock full of dented cans. He’ll burn down your house, stomp a mud-hole in your ass, and fuck you ’til you are dead.
The Beast is all business,Jack, made out of steel and snakes. He is not a thing that god made.”
— The Messenger
from Midnight City