The Suffering Healer

     “The healer has healed!” the gargoyle announced with a mocking tone in its loud but raspy voice.  “The healer has healed!” it announced again, then paused while it put on a hideous grin.  It began to rub what might be called its hands together and continued to stare at its petrified prey.

     “And now the healer must be rewarded!” it bellowed, and Daniel felt one set of razor-sharp, fingerlike claws tear his shirt open, followed by the other set ripping at the skin of his chest.  The gargoyle was laughing maniacally while tearing away at its victim’s body, quickly moving forward as Daniel tried to retreat.  There was no escape and he was crying out, screaming for help that never came.  He howled in horror to the aberrant being to stop the torture, but he continued to receive from the living terror more ripping, tearing, and gouging, while hearing from the creature more grunting, snorting, and demonic laughter.  Daniel was completely at the mercy of a merciless monster.  Blood was everywhere, splattering the healer’s body, the gargoyle’s arms, and the room itself.

     He found himself lifted up, held by two stone-cold, rock-hard hands, before the thing’s head.  It spoke again to its victim as it held him in its powerful grip, spewing out, “Just think, healer, this is the best of all possible worlds!”