The Nick Of Time
(and other Abrasions)
Al Bruno III
Al Bruno III
Oh, I see you’ve recognized me.
While my trial was years ago the so-called popular media has been obsessing over my case for over a decade. A veritable cottage industry has sprung up in the wake of the things did. You must understand however that I had little choice.
The prophecies, I can see them lurking in the eyes of the Chosen. They glitter like teardrops about to be shed. When I see them I have to act, to do otherwise would be unthinkable. The Chosen aren’t alive like you or I, they’re shells, shells that hold burning embers of the truth.
Those truths will be found out by someone eventually. So, why not me? Better me than some of those others, we’ve seen their handiwork already haven’t we?
As the shell dies the truth escapes on the dying breaths. Those truths are why I turned myself in and confessed my every transgression. I needed to be incarcerated; I needed time to contemplate the Truths I had collected.
Years later, when the cleansing fire came to the Polk Institute for the Criminally Insane it passed by my door allowing me to escape.
This happened because I willed it to happen. It was exhausting and painful but it proved to me that I was right and that I have the power to create a better, ordered world. History will not call me a madman, or a murderer or a sorcerer.
It will me Hierophant.
But enough of that, I still need to decide what to do with you don’t I?
And regardless of what the future holds, I need you to be kneeling.