The Killer was tortured by dreams about sex. Sex with beautiful boys and handsome young men. Sex with Father McAlister. Approval. Love. Belonging. Even when it hurt, he had someone to love, with Father. Until the end.
I’m not gay, he screamed
in his dreams. I’m not. But what he dreamed about was love with men,
of being held safe and warm in a man’s arms. Of a man inside him stroking him
to ecstasy. Of the more sinister but much sharper pleasure of killing. Sluts.
They deserved to die. God was
with him. But in his dreams he was in
vast echoing rooms and God’s voice was Father McAlister’s, and there was no
approval or love in it. And he was
utterly, utterly alone.
Episodes 1 to 500 (without pictures, 20 episodes per chapter)
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