Pinhead- Draining Dead Army

  The Hell Priest had begun to utter what sounded like a cross between a chant and an equation: numbers and words intertwined. As he spoke he moved with startling speed around his enemy, avoiding Lucifer’s blade and dropping down as he did so until he was standing on the bodies below. The combination of words and numbers he was giving voice to was working some abnormal change in the dead and the dying. The process of decay seemed to have quickened in their flesh; their muscle was seething as though flies had taken it for their laying place.

  He cast his swords away even though Lucifer was circling above him, preparing to swoop and deliver the killing stroke. The Priest then stretched his arms out in front of him, palms down, and lifted his hands up to his chest. Whatever life-in-death he had seeded in the killing fields on which he now stood, he was taking it back and sowing it into himself.

  At his feet the dead twitched violently as the Hell Priest’s litanies and equations drew back every last bit of demonic force from their desiccated corpses. It made a furnace of his body, in which the bones blazed bright and his organs liquefied any impurity found within the vessel that was his body. The impurities spilled from the confines of his anatomy. He bathed in them as they flooded out of his pores, eyes, ears, nose, mouth, cock, and asshole. His body purged every last bit of imperfect flesh from every opening it could find, creating a being beyond entropy. A being that no longer had need of lungs for breathing and bowels for shitting. A being that fed itself its own blazing substance.

-The Scarlet Gospel, BOOK THREE, Chapter 10