Pasayten PeteChapter 30: Bishop's Nightmare free porn video

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The news conference was held on the huge front steps of the great cathedral on a clear, sunny day. It had gone quite well, pretty much as laid out in the press release materials that had been handed out beforehand. The Bishop expansively explained that the "unfortunate story" of the closure of the retirement home operated by the Order of the Ardent Sisters of His Holy Service was a simple "rush to judgment" by an "over-zealous budget process." His Grace explained that of all present, he was the most grateful for an opportunity to "correct a grave error" before it had been perpetrated upon "these most faithful, most precious, most highly revered servants in the Lord's service."

Members of the press stifled their cynical responses while they dutifully recorded the Bishop's bleatings. A few of the photographers were able to capture his flushed face, glistening with beads of sweat as he spoke. His assistant would later request that such photos not be printed, stating that the great man's apparent discomfiture was due "not to stress and embarassment but rather to the unseasonable heat of the day."

No photographer was able to see or photograph what the Bishop saw standing behind the crowd as he concluded his remarks: a row of nine Priests, shoulder to shoulder in black suits. Their faces were ghastly white. Black sockets gaped where eyes should be. At first he'd vaguely wondered why they were there. He recognized each as 'problem priests' that he'd been forced to transfer out of the city. When he looked more closely he saw that these were not human faces. They were ghastly, horrible caricatures of human faces. He stopped speaking and stared. The apparitions grew larger and closer, moving forward through the assembled press who moved aside to make room for their passage but took no notice otherwise.

He staggered backwards a step, reeling. He nearly fell as his foot caught the edge of a stair behind him. The apparitions were upon him now, surrounding him, hissing and whispering foul epithets to him, accusing him of foul complicity. He gasped and held out his arms to ward them off. They closed their ranks, their cadaverous faces thrust into his. Their mouths opened and exhaled a noxious cloud of green gas that reeked and tasted of death. It surrounded him, choking and blinding him. He was nauseated, his stomach heaving as if to vomit all it held, but his throat was choked shut. His bile rose and burned like the fires of Hell but he could expell nothing.

Bishop Cruxton flailed wildly and fell unconscious on the steps, his head striking the edge of the stone to open a terrible wound on his bald pate. Cameras recorded every moment of his 'fainting spell' as his assistant later labeled it. Tape recorders caught his shrieking words before he'd been choked into unconsciousness, a screaming gibberish of 'devils, hell spawn, demons!'

An ambulance was only moments away. The great man was lifted from the bloodied steps. He would be many days in hospital before he recovered. He was confined to a private room. News reporters, staking out the lower floor which was as close as they were allowed to approach, were quick to note that several of the city's most prominent psychologists and psychiatrists were coming and going from the Bishop's floor. Their insistent questioning was met with denials and refusals to comment. But they suspected something more than 'fainting from stress and heat' had happened. They had little need to speculate. Film footage and photographs of the incident dominated the news for several days. Commentary was rife with speculation concerning whatever 'affliction' had befallen the city's most prominent clergyman.

Alone in his private room, the door closely guarded by a rotating shift of security staff, the Bishop lay exhausted in his bed. He was quite alone, most emphatically insistently alone. He could not, would not tolerate any questions or pitying glances. He had dismissed his staff to tend to their duties back in their offices. Even his personal assistant had been banished from the hospital, told that he would approach the Bishop upon pain of losing his position.

The Bishop wished nothing more than to be left alone. He was troubled, haunted, confused, and worried that he was losing his sanity.

He woke to find a stranger standing at the foot of his bed wearing a simple homespun robe of gray wool. The unsmiling figure gestured for the Bishop to rise. Without thinking he found himself compelled to slide from the bed to stand on bare feet. He shuffled forward and the stranger reached out a hand, grasped his shoulder, and they found themselves standing in an empty landscape before a massive gate.

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Chapter 30: Bishop's Nightmare Videos

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Cottonwood trees flanking the rock-rimmed irrigation ditch behind the house moaned in the rising late-night wind. Graydon heard the swaying branches outside and close thunder booming from the north as an early summer storm moved down the valley. They had spent several days cleaning out clutter and moving in. Alex Senior made a trip in the Blue Goose to buy used furniture: a kitchen table and chairs, an iron frame double bed with springs and mattress, two war surplus barrack cots with pads, an...

Pasayten PeteChapter 4 Goat Man

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Pasayten PeteChapter 5 The Fight

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Pasayten PeteChapter 6 Lights in the Night

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Pasayten PeteChapter 7 Winter Lodge

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Pasayten PeteChapter 8 Spirits in the Fire

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Pasayten PeteChapter 10 The Snake Hunt

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Pasayten PeteChapter 11 Graydon Wins a Fight

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Pasayten PeteChapter 12 Rock slide

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Pasayten PeteChapter 13 The Rescue

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Pasayten PeteChapter 14 The Shaman

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Pasayten PeteChapter 15 The Apprentice

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Pasayten PeteChapter 16 Marilee

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Pasayten PeteChapter 17 Disclosure

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Pasayten PeteChapter 18 Foundations

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Pasayten PeteChapter 19 Pride and Punishment

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Pasayten PeteChapter 20 Healing

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Pasayten PeteChapter 21 Transitions

"My name is Michael Peterson. My friends call me Mike. I've lived in the valley for many years, but it's a remote area and other than a few close friends I pretty much stay to myself." Mike sipped his second cup of coffee, leaning back and thinking to himself that Madeline Jacobs baked a fine pie. He'd savored that slice. Good home cooking never escaped his appreciation. Like most elderly bachelors, Mike cooked to survive but he didn't often take time to turn out a gourmet meal....

Pasayten PeteChapter 22 Investigations

"You are absolutely certain, then? The coroner's report shows no drugs, no hallucinogens, no substances of any kind?" "No, sir. Father Bernard's body showed no evidence of any substance that might have caused hallucinations or insanity. There are no drug traces or other physiological evidence pointing to a trigger for his breakdown." "Yet he virtually tore himself to pieces. His face was a mask of utter terror. This is not the act of a rational man, obviously. The simple conclusion...

Pasayten PeteChapter 23 Marilee Fights

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Pasayten PeteChapter 24 Relocation

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Pasayten PeteChapter 25 Father Ambrose

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Pasayten PeteChapter 26 Vitellis End

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Pasayten PeteChapter 27 Vitellis Hell

M. Vitelli froze in mid-step and stared, unbelieving, at the two figures holding hands, standing side by side on the altar of the small chapel. There were only the three of them there in the gloom. Vitelli spun around when the front door he had arrogantly left standing ajar slammed shut. The room reverberated with the sound. The interior gloom intensified. He could barely make out the walls of the small chapel, scarcely three strides to either side. The darkness seemed to close in around him,...

Pasayten PeteChapter 28 Reunion

Jim Brightman, Mike Peterson and Father Ambrose sat around Vi's kitchen table, delighted to be reunited after so many years apart. They sat sipping coffee after one of Vi's delicious meals. She decided to leave the three old friends alone and slipped off to the other room. It was a time for catching up, for reliving old memories as older men often do. Time slipped away as they talked. Vi came in, put another pot of coffee on the stove and served up dishes of fresh apple pie with homemade...

Pasayten PeteChapter 29 Altered Plans

"As I see it, we have a number of problems to deal with. Some are moral and spiritual, and some are practical." Mike and Father Ambrose rested in their hotel room after a light meal. Both were troubled. They were confronting a massive problem, head on, and neither was sure how to proceed. Following the first rule of consultation, "two heads are better than one," they were engaging in some sincere discussion of their goals and how best to achieve them. "Our biggest problem is the good...

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