The Wizard's Journal: Vampiric Curse - Book II

The Wizard’s Journal

Vampiric Curse

by

T. J. Hunter

Book 2 of a series.

First printing May, 2015

Copyrighted © 2015 Fantasy Realm Press

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Smashwords eBook edition

ISBN Paperback: 978-0-692-37590-7

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All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form, including electronic or mechanical means or storage or retrieval systems, except for brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews, unless obtaining written permission from the publisher.

This novel is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events are solely the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, either living or dead, establishments, events, or places is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not have any control over the author’s work and does not assume any responsibility, including web-sites, other publications, or similar content.

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Thadicus J. Hunter

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Chapter 1

Night time always creates an endless energy in Manhattan. Neon lights brightly announce another day has turned into a new adventure of food, music, drink, and anything else imaginable. If you have money, and time to spend it, Manhattan is your kind of city.

For some people, nightlife is a preferred reality and daytime a bad dream. You see, city goers are different than most people; they embrace the idea that there would be enough time to sleep when you’re dead. Unfortunately, those unlucky few who wonder into the fringes of darkness sometimes find the difference between sleeping and dying becomes blurred and more sinister in nature – not so for me. I have no misconceptions about sleep, death, or living for that matter. It was simple: if everything was dark and cold, I’d be dead. Yea, simple … I keep telling myself that, but it never really is simple.

Unlike most New Yorkers, night time is my workday. While most people are home with their families or partying in the city, I’m just getting started on my job. Like everyone else, I have good and bad days, or nights, and I try to get by without doing something stupid, especially if it might kill me. Sounds simple thinking about it, but it really never is. For me, things are rarely simple in my line of work because what I do is unusual. In fact, I’d say my job was the most unusual occupation in the world.

There is no easy way to explain what I do or who I am, so I’ll just say it. My name is Daniel Zane and I’m a wizard. That’s right, a real hocus-pocus spellcaster whose job is to protect humans from dark beings, and no, I’m not crazy. At least I don’t think I am … at least not yet anyway. Sounds crazy, I know, and believe me it take a whole lot of getting use to.

Daniel is also not my real name, but it’s what I use to blend in with people. A few months ago I was known as Jonathan Willington, a distinguished professor at Harvard University who drank too much coffee and read too many books for a living. It gets better … I use to go by the name Yochi when living among the Mayans thousands of years ago and as Azul on a planet called Zeshtune eons ago.

I know what you’re thinking. Believe me, I’d think anyone saying these things was a complete lunatic too. Talk about having an identity crisis. My history would be the envy of any schizophrenic and a full career for a psychologist.

Oh yea, I’m not really human either, but thought I was not too long ago. I look and act like most people: feel pain, bleed, eat, sleep, and in most every aspect appear human. The good news is that Zeshtunians and humans are close cousins is the universe’s genetic pool.

Now comes the complicated part. Every 25,000 years when the Galactic alignment occurs, I am remade by magical forces into a construct of man. As I understand it, all living beings are carbon based and humans are born from natural elements. The only difference from not being born as a human is that my conscience wakes up from sleeping inside an ancient amulet stone. When that happens, I am formed into a human construct and begin the process of recognition – more about that later.

I’m also not the only Zeshtunian walking on Earth. I have a sister named Alura and her fiancé is Thyzil. Both have also existed for eons and go through the same amulet stone to human construct every 25,000 years, give or take a century or two. Alura returned to Earth 100 years ago to prepare for my return and is a warrior not to mess with. Thyzil is also a warrior who had a difficult recognition, and is not someone you’d want to run into in a dark ally. Magic and battle hardened, Alura and Thyzil are my family and they’re both legends among Zeshtunians.

Speaking of legends, remember all those bad dreams you had when you were a kid? Well, I am sorry to tell you those bad dreams are real. Werewolves, vampires, ghouls, witches, and all the movie villains that plagued your dreams are very real. A few weeks ago, Alura and Thyzil helped me destroy hundreds of lycanthropes, or werewolves as most people call them, and a Mayan overlord named Ah Chuy Kak.

In short, I am Daniel Zane by day, the chief field reporter of Zane Worldwide Communications, or ZWC. By night, I am Azul, master wizard of Zeshtune charged with protecting mankind and upholding the laws of my council elders. Our number one law is to protect humans from all dark creatures, and no, I don’t wear a cape, costume, or anything out of the ordinary from an everyday middle class wardrobe.

The thing is that being a wizard has little glory and comes with a lot of cuts, bruises, and physical pain. There are days I wish I was back at Harvard teaching archeology instead of battling monsters, but those days are now gone. At least I can’t complain about ever being bored or having nothing to do. There’s plenty to do, believe me, and no shortage of monsters roaming around Manhattan.

For the past few nights, things have been relatively quiet – knock on wood – on the supernatural crime front. I only say this because nothing has tried to eat my face off since defeating the largest lycanthrope pack in Manhattan. Even so, I know all good things come to an end and any peace I enjoy is only a lull before another storm. From the pot into the fire … isn’t that what people say when things are about to get worse? Tonight, things will begin to get a whole lot worse as darkness takes on a new meaning.

What I have written in the pages of this journal is a detailed account of how humanity barely escaped an ancient plague, or as it was called long ago, a vampiric curse. My accounting of the facts herein serves both as a record and warning.

Chapter 2

It has been said the greatest trick the devil ever pulled was convincing the world he doesn't exist. If this were true, the dark creatures roaming our world wouldn’t leave behind so many bodies. Bodies are evidence, and evidence is something a supernatural being who wanted to remain on the low wouldn’t leave hanging around; that would be stupid, unless of course doing so was merely a diversion to keep us in a state of fear.

I didn’t use to believe in the devil, at least not in the way we were told as kids. Horns, an arrow tail, pitchfork, and a red comic outfit seemed comical at best. In my mind, it was more likely the devil would be a next door neighbor watering his garden, or a grocery clerk at a supermarket. No one would ever suspect someone stamping prices on cans of corn was a supernatural being bent of the destruction of mankind.

I’ve come to realize that details are important and have meaning in our world. Perhaps the devil can be found in the least obvious detail and the last place we’d look – in us. Maybe the devil is a merely a concept of choice, like free will, and manifests itself as we act out on our own decisions.

The devil is in the details, I thought.

In Manhattan, especially at night, there are a lot of details associated with unsolved deaths. Most of the time murders in the city result from gunshots, stabbings, strangulations, and a few unfortunate victims are occasionally thrown off high-rise balconies. The city coroner identifies the cause of death, tags their toe, and puts them into the morgue freezer to wait for family to claim their body. These ordinary deaths are then summarized in a few lines buried in a news byline and life goes on as usual.

What gets my attention are the not so ordinary unsolved deaths. It’s the weird and unexplainable deaths causing coroners to scratch their heads and leave toe tags in desk draws that grab my attention. Lately, there have been a few too many untagged toes in the city morgue because of unexplainable deaths, albeit having similar circumstances. One particular similarity stood out: three victims didn’t have a single drop of blood in their bodies.

Unusual, interesting, and my kind of investigation.

It was time to visit my friend Simon Bartlett who is a night shift coroner at the midtown Manhattan city morgue. I met Simon a few weeks ago at a press function and we quickly became friends because of our professional interest. He handled dead bodies and I tried to keep monsters from making his workload unnecessarily burdensome. Simon also had the privilege of handling all the bodies from city morgues where the cause of death could not be determined – lucky guy. Naturally, his professional responsibilities often crossed paths with mine, and tonight seemed to be one of these times.

I locked my apartment door behind me and headed for a location where cabs usually parked waiting for customers. I didn’t get far when the hairs on the back of my neck stood up and my necklace and ring amulets began glowing. As I looked around, I held out my hand and willed my staff to appear, and it did with blue-white lights ebbing in and out of the staff’s amulet.

My staff was no ordinary stick. It was six feet tall, translucent as glass, and covered with ancient etchings. A stone amulet the size and shape of a large egg sat on top of the staff that stored unlimited magic. Whenever I willed my staff to appear, it would reveal itself in any number of sizes and shapes I desired, and was always ready for action.

I continued walking slowly while moving my staff side to side.

Come on out, I know you’re there, I said.

A tall well dressed man stepped out from the shadows. His eyes and hair were black and his face pale white. I narrowed my eyes and saw he had a red aura, a true giveaway of being a vampire.

Okay bloodsucker. How do you want it ... fireball or lightening?

The vampire stood motionless and didn’t blink.

Perhaps he isn’t afraid of being turned into a crispy critter.

"Neither, I assure you Mr. Zane. I am not here to quarrel with you. I only wish to deliver a message from the House of Uther and depart in peace."

Or in pieces, I thought.

The House of Uther is the oldest known vampire clan. The clan’s king is Vincent Uther who lives in Belarus, but he has satellite clans all over the world including one here in Manhattan. Records on Uther say he began a blood war in Europe 2,000 years ago. Since then he has become more reserved in his thirst and owns blood banks and other businesses worldwide. Mason Uther, Vincent Uther’s elder son, operates the Manhattan satellite clan on behalf of his father.

My staff amulet glowed brighter and blue-white lights began weaving more rapidly in and out it. I pointed my staff forward and the vampire took a couple of steps back, but he still didn’t blink. He was calm and confident, but evidently not so impartial to lightening bolts after all.

I grinned. Get on with it then. Deliver you message and buzz off.

"The Manhattan clan wishes you to know we are not responsible for the unfortunate demise of the blood drained victims of late. We believe a rogue is operating within the House of Calvis."

I grinned wider. What do I care about your bloodsucking politics?

Mr. Zane, we no longer feed in the way of old days. We do not need to and consider such behavior to be barbaric. If the abomination who is committing these acts is not stopped, many humans will be made into, as you say, ‘bloodsuckers’ and an epidemic will spread across the city and throughout the world.

Okay, the bloodsucker has a point.

Zeshtune law offers no protection to dark creatures, including bloodsucking vampires, but I had my own politics to worry about. First, if I vaporize this creep, it could start a war between Zeshtune and the House of Uther. Second, vaporizing it might make it difficult to find a rogue bloodsucker, if in fact there is one bent on starting an epidemic. Third, vampires are fast – really fast. I’m not sure I’d even hit him with my magic before he sped off into the night, or tried to take my head off. And then there is rule number one: ‘cause no harm to any human’. Rule number one meant I needed to hear the bloodsucker out even if one human death might be avoided.

I frowned and lowered my staff a little. Okay, you have my attention. What does your boss think should be done to catch this rouge?

The vampire, feeling more secure that I wasn’t going to burn him to smithereens, moved toward me a couple of steps. I raised my staff up a little and the vampire stopped.

I am only the messenger Mr. Zane. It is Mason Uther who wishes to speak with you in person to develop a common strategy, at a neutral place of course. Should I inform him you agree to a meeting?

Mason Uther, being the eldest son of the Vampire King, carried a lot of weight among the supernatural community. What Mason said goes undisputed, and not just in New York, but the entire North American continent.

It didn’t require much common sense to realize a meeting with a vampire is generally a bad idea. Then again, no one ever accused me of having common sense, but I’m not stupid. The House of Uther may appear business like, but they’re still bloodsuckers, and all vampires regarded humans as nutritional supplements. There may not be direct evidence implicating the House of Uther is involved in sucking humans dry, however, not getting caught and biting people are entirely different things.

Not much choice, I thought. I had to meet with Mason Uther.

I pulled my staff back and told the messenger to let his boss know I’d meet him at Rockefeller Center tomorrow night, 9:00 PM sharp. There will be plenty of people there ice skating and enjoying the holiday displays. Lots of people in a public setting meant it’s less likely the meeting will be a trap. Mason’s messenger nodded, stepped back into the shadows, and disappeared. A moment later, the hairs on the back of my neck settled down telling me it was safe to go about my business.

A few minutes later I waved a cab down to take me to the midtown city morgue. I paid the cabby his fare when we arrived as he nervously looked at the building.

Come here often? the cabby asked.

fare as he looked at the building in a standoffish manner.

Come here often? the cabby asked, eyes wide and obviously nervous.

I grinned. Yea, it’s the one place I can relax. It’s quiet here and all the residents keep to themselves.

The cabby looked at me like I was nuts. He turned his roof light off and drove away. No more passengers tonight for this cabby.

Security at the midtown morgue consisted entirely of one grey haired old gentlemen who usually was asleep at his desk. I can’t blame him for napping. Not like he has many visitors who walk into the building instead of being rolled in on a gurney.

Good evening Sam, I said, startling the man out of his nap and nearly falling off his chair.

Oh … hello Mr. Zane. I haven’t seen you here for awhile.

Would you tell Simon I need to speak with him?

Sam smiled and nodded as he called Simon’s office.

Mr. Bartlett sir, I have Mr. Zane here at the front desk. He wishes to speak with you. Should I buzz him in?

Sam hung up his phone and buzzed the door to let me into a long corridor.

Thanks Sam. See you in a little while.

Anyone who has visited a city morgue knows how creepy these places are. Long hallways with poor lighting, no windows, and absolute silence to send chills down any normal person’s spine. This particular morgue was especially creepy. If fact, I thought it looked like a Hollywood slasher movie set. Even though I knew it was my imagination working overtime, I still glanced over my shoulder every few seconds to see if anything was following me.

Paranoia is good. Paranoia keeps me alive.

I pushed a double door open and saw Simon playing a video game. They were battling a large monster using lasers and grandee launchers, but lost when Simon ran out of ammo and was torn in half. I laughed a little when thinking Simon should go hunting with me sometime – no restarts in the real world.

Hey Simon, how’s life? I asked.

Simon paused his video game and smiled. Life … down here Daniel. Is that a joke?

The only living thing ever here on the night shift was Simon, Sam the security guard, and occasionally me when visiting. Realizing what I asked was an oxymoron, we both laughed. My eyes then turned to gurneys where several bodies lie without toe tags.

Are those unexplained murders?

Unexplained deaths, Simon said, correcting me with an official tone. We don’t know if they were murdered.

No blood in their bodies?

Not a drop, he answered. How did you know?

I hesitated in my response. It’s better to answer Simon’s question slowly than blurt out that vampires killed these people.

Have you ever seen anyone die from natural causes without having a single drop of blood in their body?

Simon frowned. Well … no I haven’t, but we can’t say these people were murdered, at least not until we are sure.

What could they have died from if not being murdered?

Simon narrowed his eyes and shook his head. I don’t know. Probably murdered, but it’s not conclusive.

I inspected one of the bodies having two small puncture marks on its neck.

Vampire bites – no doubt about it.

I pointed to the marks and asked Simon what could have caused them. He got nervous and put his hands inside his pockets.

I don’t know, and don’t tell me what I think you’re going to tell me Daniel, he said. I don’t believe in vampires. No such thing.

Really? Do you think someone got a siphon and pumped all the blood out this body?

Simon began pacing nervously back and forth.

I don’t know. Maybe, but it wasn’t a vampire … right?

Wrong, I said.

Once bitten, the virus of a vampire takes about 72 hours to reanimate a corpse, provided all the blood has been sucked out. Some don’t reanimate and stay dead – those are the lucky ones – but most are on a countdown to become a member of the walking dead. Another sure sign is that a vampire’s bite disappears just before turning, but I wouldn’t advise anyone to hang around to see it happen.

The corpse in front of me was an attractive young female in her early twenties, blonde hair, and a college student given a fraternity ring wrapped around her finger. She had been in the morgue for four days and the punctures on her neck were still visible. She was dead, in the full sense of the word, and wouldn’t be coming back as a vamp or anything else.

I checked the necks of the other two corpses and did not see any puncture marks. I then checked their wrist – no marks.

Simon, did these two have puncture marks any where on their bodies like the first one, and how long have they been here?

Yes, both had the same marks on their necks when they arrived three days ago, Simon said as he got closer to take another look. I don’t understand. There were two puncture marks on the left side of their necks. I checked the bodies myself when they arrived.

Simon looked at the necks again in disbelief while scratching his head.

Not possible. It doesn’t make any sense, he said.

Both bodies were middle aged males, probably professional business men judging by their hairstyle and suits. I moved my ring amulet around the neckline of the second body and two faint puncture marks appeared on the left side of his neck.

What is that? Simon asked. Some sort of ring sized ultraviolet light?"

The devil’s in the details, I muttered.

What?

The devil’s in the details … never mind, it’s something I was thinking about earlier today.

What I know about vampires comes exclusively by way of the Vampedia book kept in my personal library. Anything and everything that goes bumpity-bump in the night can be found in my library’s many volumes of scary books. I affectionately added the suffix ‘pedia’ to all the nasty book titles to personalize them in a less scary way, but scary is scary no matter what it’s called.

My favorite part of Vampedia is how to destroy vampires. Severing heads from their bodies continues to be a favorite method used over the centuries. My personal favorite is to burn them with wizard fire, like I did to a lycanthrope pack last month. As long as they are dead – and I mean really dead, not undead –any way is fine with me.

All the Hollywood vampire myths: wooden stakes through the heart, crosses, holy water, sleeping in coffins, to mention a few, are only stage props. If you stake a vampire into his dead heart, it will only ruin its suit and tick it off, then you’ll have a very angry bloodsucker facing you. If you throw holy water in its face, it may blink, but won’t do anything to slow it down. Forget all the nonsense about a vampire not being able to cross your threshold without an invitation because it won’t ever knock on your door. If a bloodsucker wants into a place you’re staying at, it will crash through your door and rip your throat out, invitation or not.

Basically, removing a vampire’s head or burning it into a pile of ashes is the best and most sure way to destroy them. Anything else … well, you’d better hope daylight is at your back to fry the vampire for you, which by the way is not a myth. Vampires will turn into crispy critters in the daylight sun.

Like I said, I don’t particularly care what method is used to destroy vampires as long as they are no longer among the ranks of the undead. Truth be told, I haven’t yet encountered a real vampire face-to-face before tonight, at least not knowing or remembering in some prior life. Perhaps I battled some vampires during a past recognition, which is basically a process of being reconstructed in human form and becoming a wizard of the then modern time. Remembering prior knowledge and events is a slow process with recognition; this is because the human mind is much more limited than a Zeshtune mind. For now, I relied on the historical records kept in my library.

There are basically four types of vampires: purebloods born as vampires; those who share in a blood ceremony and are transformed into vampires; ancient vampiric beasts called nosdams; and those infected from having all their blood sucked out and become mindless killers called vamps. The vamp killers are considered abominations by purebloods who consider themselves as royalty in the vampire nation. In my mind, they’re all bloodsuckers – screw their hierarchy.

Simon, there is something I have to tell you and it may sound crazy.

What can be crazier than vampires? he asked, his voice quivering and body noticeably shaking.

Do you believe in magic Simon?

You mean like Houdini?

No, I mean real magic. The kind of stuff you read about in books while growing up. You know: wizards, witches, spells and so on.

No, not really. I mean I’ve never seen any real magic. Can’t say I believe it exist

Well, tonight you’re going to see real magic, and I don’t want you to freak out. Okay Simon?

Simon nodded and pushed his glasses up off the tip of his nose.

Um … Daniel … what exactly is going to happen?

The thing is Simon, I’m a wizard. My job is to destroy dark creatures, like these bloodsuckers here so that people stay safe.

Simon grinned. You’re kidding me, right?

Nope, I’m a real wizard, I replied and extended my hand out willing my staff to appear.

Simon’s eyes widened and he took a step back as my staff appeared in its full six foot grandeur with bright blue-white lights ebbing in and out of the amulet stone. Simon’s mouth then dropped, nearly all the way to the floor.

I thought you were the chief field reporter at Zane Worldwide Communications.

Long story, I said. Relax Simon. Everything is going to be alright.

I moved my staff toward the second corpse and tapped the amulet on its forehead. The body instantly burst into flames and Simon jumped backward falling into his chair. He sat there with his mouth open and eyes fixed on the burning corpse.

Are you alright Simon?

He didn’t respond.

Simon, are you alright? I asked and moved into his line of sight of the burning corpse.

Simon looked at me and nodded slowly. His glasses had loosened from one ear and hung across his face. He starred at the pile of ashes on the gurney while straightening his glasses, both hands shaking wildly.

Okay, one more to go. Hang in there Simon, I said. And stay in your seat where it’s safe.

I moved my staff to the third corpse.

Daniel, I think it moved its foot.

I looked down at the corpse’s feet and they were still. When I looked back at its face, blood red eyes were starring back at me. The vamp hissed, then jumped off the gurney and stood against a wall. Simon’s eyes rolled up and he fainted where he sat.

When a vamp first wakes, it is very hungry and will go after anything having blood, even sewer rats. It can’t control its urge to feed and a passed out human sitting in a chair was an easy target. I knew what the vamp was instinctively thinking and anticipated its next move, then pointed my staff at the chair where Simon was sitting and said, "Levitsum." The vamp leapt into the air toward Simon and crashed into a metal file cabinet as Simon’s chair levitated into the air. It quickly rose to its feet and watched as the chair floated across the room and rested on the floor behind me.

Bet you’re pissed off now, aren’t you? I said, pointing my staff at the bloodsucker as it hissed louder, more angrily, and began slowly moving toward Simon and me. I aimed my staff at it and said, "Aknor firster," sending a blue-white stream of wizard fire into the vamp.

Wizard fire is not like other fire and burns dark creatures from the molecular structure inside-out with the intensity of our sun. The vamp screamed and fell to the floor as the fire consumed it. When the screaming stopped, only a few burring ashes remained and disappeared a few seconds later.

Not so difficult, I thought. Then again, it was a new vamp, confused, and had not yet learned how to be a vamp. While things worked out well tonight, I wasn’t going to fool myself into thinking the next time would be as easy. Even so, no walking dead from the morgue would be roaming the city and affecting more humans, and that was cause to be pleased.

Simon woke up and rubbed his eyes. What happened? he asked.

You missed all the fun, I said, letting out a little laugh.

Fun? What kind of fun? he asked, at first not realizing what had happened. A few moments later he stiffened in his chair gripping both arm rests while looking around the room. Is it gone Daniel?

Yup, it’s gone. I turned it into a crispy critter.

Oh … good … crispy critter sounds good.

I extended my hand and pulled Simon to his feet. He was still shaking, but not as bad as before, and froze when looking at the first corpse.

What about this one? Shouldn’t you turn it into a crispy critter too?

No, she’s human and very much dead. She has family somewhere and deserves a proper burial.

Are you sure? I think you should place your glowing rock on her head to be absolutely sure.

I pointed to my staff stone and told Simon the ‘glowing rock’ was an ancient amulet filled with magical power. He asked me again to place it on the dead body, and I did to reassure him. Nothing happened.

See Simon, my magic can’t harm any human, dead or alive. Only the bad guys can get wasted. If this girl had anything not human in her, she’d burn up like the two vamps did.

Simon smiled. I guess I should thank you Daniel. If you hadn’t arrived when you did, I would have been killed by one of those things.

Those things, Simon, are called vamps. If one had bit you, you’d probably turn into a vamp too. You wouldn’t die. Instead, you’d become one of the walking dead.

I explained to Simon what the difference was between vampires and vamps.

Vampires …vamps … walking dead … I can’t believe they actually exist. Thank you Daniel for explaining everything, and thanks for being here to save me.

"Now that you know about me and bloodsuckers, you’ll need to understand a few rules. First, don’t tell anyone I’m a wizard. Second, don’t let anyone visit you here during the night except for me. Third, don’t tell anyone what happened here tonight. No one will believe you and you’ll lose your job, and probably get committed to a hospital. Fourth, call me whenever you get any bodies having unexplainable circumstances surrounding their deaths, or if you’d like to get a few beers and sandwich.

Beers and a sandwich sound nice, and you can bet for sure I’ll call you if anything unusual shows up here. Hey Daniel, want a drink?

Drink? What kind of drink?

Simon pulled a bottle of Tequila out of his file cabinet with two shot glasses.

Why Simon, you’re an old sly fox, aren’t you? Isn’t drinking against the rules here?

Yes, and so are vamps, he said smiling while pouring two shots of Tequila. Here’s to surviving the night. Cheers.

To surviving the night and all nights to come, I said.

A few minutes of quiet drinking went by and then Simon asked a question. I could tell he was thinking about something because he had a distant look, the kind of look one gets when confused.

Daniel, earlier you said the devil’s in the details. What did you mean?

Simon, there are a lot of bad things out there in the real world. People go about their business everyday convinced the worst that can happen to them is being caught in a traffic jam, getting drenched in the rain, making a bad investment, losing a job, or a boat load of other trivial bullshit. No one pays attention to the details of life, how light and dark play against each other, or how things appearing to be coincidence are not. Most people don’t even realize how lucky they are to be alive.

Simon starred off distantly for a few more seconds and said, So you’re saying the devil is all around us and no one notices.

Not just around us Simon, in us too. Look at the terrible things mankind does everyday. People keep making excuses for those who commit the most horrific crimes, citing research, case precedents, and exhorting ill conceived compassion for perpetrators.

You’re saying the devil really exists and he is in us?

"I don’t know if the devil exists, but what he represents is real, and yes, evil is in all of us to some degree. There is also a lot of good