SOD's yellow eyes pierced the darkness. He summoned a gathering of his minions deep in the middle of a dense forest off Ocean Parkway on the South Shore of Long Island. The area was overrun with twisted mangled pine trees, poison ivy and the dried bones of serial killer victims gone by.

With SOD's hot stinky breath he made a clearing in the woods. Thousands of slithering slimy black slugs crept out of the forest and encircled him. With his captive audience he spun around slowly. Instead of modeling the prince of darkness he resembled an aged super model at the end of a runway. His mottled black cape swirled behind him sweeping away pine needles and ash. Once he finished his exuberant display his creepy creatures dared to edge closer—but not too close.

SOD enjoyed the spotlight way too much and he didn't like sharing it. He began his one man show by asking, "Awwww aren't the freaks and the faithful utterly delightful? Busses, trucks, mangy mutts, an ugly giant oaf, a Helen Keller wannabe, a pushy grandma and more, all gathering into one pitiful place: "The Wood's Shoppe" destroying your mind through books since 1988." He spat sticky black acid dissolving the closest of his minions into a bit of sulfur.

SOD paid no attention to anyone or anything around him. A verse passed through his mind:
"Pride goes before destruction, a haughty spirit before a fall." Violently he shook his head to ward off the invasive saying. Once the obsessive thought faded he raised his dripping pointed chin and blathered, "That Guttenburg and his despicable printing press still unnerves me."

SOD clapped his twisted gray-black claws and continued his soliloquy, "Ha! The best part is this tribe of idiots think meeting up is a such grand idea. What imbeciles! But how convenient eh? Now we won't have to slither over hill and vale to reach the unreachable. They're gathering like ants at a family picnic. Once they're all on the red and white checkered blanket I'll poison their fried chicken or better yet I'll fry each and everyone of them! Once they're huddled up like twigs at a bonfire I'll torch the kiddies like charred marshmallows. Smores! Watching them ooze, drip and disintegrate into nothing will be my great pleasure." Drip sizzle. Drip sizzle. Drip sizzle. "Does anything smell sweeter than burning flesh? Yummm... Young delicate meatballs melt in your mouth."

SOD licked his wormy red lips with his shiny split tongue then continued, "That they think they've won makes their demise all the more delicious. I'm the prince of this world. They kowtow to me. I'm their king; I'M THEIR GOD! Stupid earthlings. Go on! Help one another! Imagine there's no heaven—or hell! Even better imagine you've changed. When I turn up the heat you'll go back to being the self-centered brawling brats you truly are. No one changes. There's no community because there's no unity. All for one and one for all is only a pipe dream in a children's story. It's a dog-eat dog-world and by the time I'm through with you, you'll be eating dog and bear—even toddlers and grandmas! You think you're better than me? Why you're just like me. Look in the mirror. Face your demons, then join the A-team. A company of liars, cheats, haters, backstabbers and realists. Get real!"

The company of black slithering slugs morphed little paw nubs out of their goo looking like an audience of licorice gummy bears. They clapped and cheered, "Hear hear!"

One lone thinker dared to raise his slimy little paw and asked, "But what are you gonna do about the Author?"

The crowd gasped. The audacity! The bravery! The stupidity! Its cohorts slithered away from the plagued one. The lone thinker was left center-stage—alone. SOD approached the doomed slug, rolled out his black forked tongue and swallowed the defector whole. Gulp.

The crowd cheered. It had no choice. One less made little, to no, difference in SOD's kingdom.

However things were much different in the Author's kingdom. He died to save one. He'd leave ninety-nine to search for a stray. He forgot no one. Not even Ella.

*What do you think? If a man owns a hundred sheep, and one of them wanders away, will he not leave the ninety-nine on the hills and go to look for the one that wandered off? And if he finds it, truly I tell you, he is happier about that one sheep than about the ninety-nine that did not wander off. In the same way your Father in heaven is not willing that any of these little ones should perish.

*Matthew 18:12-14

-End of Chapter 36-

Author's note: Sorry for being a week late with this chapter! Thank you for your support! ⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️ 💬💬💬💬💬