Edgar in the Box

(Found scrawled on a small, rolled up piece of paper in the main sorting room of the Royal Post Office.)

My Master is an Ass. The buffoon shut me into a shipping crate yet again, along with his most valuable trophy. As always. Get my things ready, he told me. As always. Protect my trophy with your life, he told me. As always. I nodded my head, told him I would die before I let anything happen to the Trophy. It wasn’t a lie. It just wasn’t the entire truth. As the lid closed over me I was surrounded by darkness and the smell of preserved demonskin. At least it’s quiet in here.

My Master is an Ass. How the buffoon managed to kill ADRAMORGORAMADOTH is beyond imagining. Proof indeed that God favors fools. He was most likely aiming for one of hordes of minor demons at ADRAMORGORAMADOTH’s feet. The buffoon always shoots high when he gets excited. Afterwards, between the strutting and crowing and stuffing and mounting, the idiot forgot to have the demon’s remains sanctified. The demon speaks to me in my mind as we both travel in this crate. Promises me things. Tells me I deserve better than my lot in life. Find him a new body, he says, and I will be rewarded.

My Master is an Ass. I go to prepare for his arrival. It took me years to find the perfect body. Very few demons have the power to possess a human permanently, and then they only do so at great personal cost. The demon tells me this. So I have found a child, still alive, still human. The gates of his soul have been torn asunder by disease. His spirit is without defense. He is easy picking for a Lord of Hell. Once everything has been arranged, ADRAMORGORAMADOTH will walk the earth wearing the skin of the boy.

My Master is an Ass, but not for much longer. When He walks the Earth once again, I will be exalted. I will finally have my revenge.

-Edgar



(Paul Magee)