The Spiel
"Welcome, friend! Come, take a seat by my hearth and warm your ravaged bones. Poor taste? I suppose so, but Dark Lord, the irony. Hell hath fire tenfold and it burns hotter than sin, which I’m sure you know already. Alas, I fear I haven’t found you in a humorous mood. On to business then!
Before you lies my menagerie. The first of its kind! Not a weak imitation, like that covetous bore’s over the way, but the real deal. Built from sinew, muscle, mucus and bone. Other things too, of course.
Really, it’s quite rude to turn your back to your host, especially when they’re speaking. Did you lose your manners on the fall down here? There – you’ll hardly be tempted to turn your back if it’s melded to a wall now, will you? Where was I?
My menagerie. Right. You have the honour of joining a rather distinctive collection, an honour that not many of my customers have. Most humans are…run-of-the-mill. Capable of true evil, but too narrow-minded to truly step over that threshold. But you…your work above...it distinguished you. I’m not even embarrassed to say that I took inspiration from you. The way you staged the littles ones…
I’ll be honest though; I haven’t decided how to stage you yet. The Hellhound took your skin, -he did a messy job of it too-, and the Fury took your genitals, - who can blame her, really? A gal has to eat, and I bet you were a feast. But allowing them to satiate their appetites on you first does kind of limit my options. No matter. I can work with what I’m given.
You’ve noticed, I’m sure, that some of my pieces are more appealing than others. Rosemarie, for example. Have you ever seen her like before? Such gorgeous proportions! And her hair. I smell it sometimes; I just can’t resist. She had ophthalmophobia when she was alive. Do you know what that is? It’s a fear of being stared at. But look at her! How could I possibly deprive the world of this goddess? You saw her eyes move? Well, of course! Her body might be immobile, but that doesn’t mean her mind is.
Some of my other specimens aren’t quite as pretty, I’m afraid. Take Eric. He had zoophobia when he was alive. Staging him was difficult, I tell you. I had to retrieve his mind from an incubi. And I had to find a shifter’s rib at auction, which cost me a pretty penny too! But look at him. I can’t begrudge spending money when it buys me masterpieces such as this. The genitals? They’re from an elephant. The tusks? A hippo. The fingers? You’re a curious one, aren’t you? The ones on his left hand are from a baboon, the ones on the right are from a lemur. And you wouldn’t believe -
A gap? Yes, keen observation. There is a reason for that. I’ve been after someone with pedophobia for some time. I mean, how hard can it be, finding someone with a fear of children and convincing them to sell their soul? Very hard, actually! It's taken me decades.. unceasing decades, but then. Then! Yes, my friend. Then, I found you!
That plinth right there, that one’s going to be yours. I know it’s for a child, silly. Lamia is coming by later for the transfer. She normally takes youth, but I promised her a scrap of little Melanie over there and she couldn’t resist; she agreed to do me a favour. I think she’s got a soft spot for me; truth be told. A Reaper was the last one to ask her for a favour and she ate him whole.
Those? You certainly have an eye for quality. They belonged to a soldier called Gregor who had claustrophobia. He died on a Belgium battlefield in 1916, if memory serves. I auctioned off most of him, but I kept his mind and I store it in his dog tags there. Sometimes, I buy his voice back from Banshee so I can hear him scream, but only on special occasions.
Say, you seem more interested in my collection than most. While we wait for Lamia, I don’t suppose you want…well, to hear a story or two? You do? That’s marvellous. Please, make yourself comfortable. Dark Lord, where should I start? With that one? Well, then! Let us begin."
