Arthur Lester

Thin, as if nothing but bone, and yet its true form is covered in tongue-like tendrils, slender, curling off the frame of this being.

They move independently, as if tasting the air beneath its rope.

The only part of its true form revealed are its hands, which peek at the bottom of the off-white vestments.

Its hands are covered in yellowing, blood-soaked polyps.

Small, undulating pustules of various sizes that...

cover every inch of its exposed flesh.

Many sport large red lesions, giving them an almost eye-like appearance.

It holds in these hands a seal, a strange black mark that hangs from a delicate, rust-covered chain.

Seeing the figure pocket claws at his chest,

the cavity of which begins to turn inward.

I can hear the bones breaking under pressure, as if all the air from the room is being sucked out.

The pale demon slowly glides into the room, and with its arrival, a glow seems to almost precede it.

A calming radiance, a warm illumination fills the room with light, and as the shade arrives just before Puckett, a loud heavy snap echoes out as Puckett's chest caves in.

As Puckett dies, his last breath, a pained gurgle of internal bleeding, the apparition turns silently.

and recedes back into the dark of the hallway.

Jesus.

Have you... Do you have any idea of... None.

None.

Don't fuck with me.

You've done a great deal of things that... I have.