Art

'They were the most ancient of spirits. Accursed. Unruly. Demented.
Guilt, shame, perversion, humiliation, pain, filth, tragedy and dear old insanity. They violated the very soul and impregnated you. Spread their vile tentacles until their seed was deep within.

And there it festered, my child. It thrashed about, plundered and feasted until the soul could take it no more.

And on stormy dark nights (when Master danced about in ecstasy), it slithered out of the womb. For the sake of the weaker ones, they named it Art.

The mother alone knew what a monster it was'