I have many stories to tell.


Sin Full



Grigori clutched the worn wood of the chair beneath him. The bitter taste of mold dusted bread and two dollar wine coated his mouth and tongue as a reminder of why he hated to do this. Beads of sweat sprang up on his skin as his vibrant green eyes slammed shut. His eyes darted behind the cover of his eyelids as the visions began to scream across his line of darkened sight. Grigori’s tense body shook as picture after picture of violent and heartless acts committed by another stomped on his soul. The eyes of victims stared him down as Grigori grip slacked allowing his body to slip from the chair and curled up on the crusty hall carpet. He tucked himself tightly into his own protection, but he could not stop the onslaught of screams for help and mercy from hissing in his ears as the horror story began to unfold. It was the story of the man dying only a few feet away, the tale of evil that he starred in, that he created.  It was the history that Grigori was taking upon himself and purging from the dying man’s soul. And so it began…