Torquemada's Henchman
By heinzs
Torquemada's Henchman He smiles his sinister grin - a devilish smirk - a mask - as he tightens the thumbscrews one more notch for good measure. Screams and cries of tortured pain are his soul music, and he plays broken bones like a harp of bleeding flesh. Without question he does the bidding of his master, the Inquisitor. Back home, the little one runs to his eager waiting arms. Hugs and kisses he bestows - the gentlest of fathers. His pretty wife sets table and smiles as he plays with the child. How fortunate, she thinks, to be wed to such a man! Not in her wildest of dreams could she envision his guile. Capable of the most heinous deeds against his fellow man, yet in his heart a gentle soul - loving and true to his family. This is the measure of man - a dichotomy of being - at odds, constantly, within. Torturer and executioner; husband and gentle father; so it is now, as it has ever been. 2/23/2002 Written February 24th, 2002 © on Feb 23 2002 05:37 PM PST, Heinz Scheuenstuhl 0 • 10
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"Torquemada's Henchman..."