cb.torturedsouls-第1部分

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　　　The　Secret　Face　of　Genesis
　　
　　　I
　　He　is　a　transformer　of　human　flesh；　a　creator　of　monsters。　If　a　Supplicant　es　to　him　with　sufficient　need；　sufficient　hunger　for　change…knowing　how　painful　that　change　will　be…he　will　acmodate　them。　They　bee　objects　of　perverse　beauty　beneath　his　hand；　their　bodies　remade　in　fashions　that　they　have　no　power　to　dictate。
　　Over　the　years；　over　the　centuries；　indeed；　this　extraordinary　creature　has　gone　by　many　names。　But　we　will　call　him　by　the　first　name　he　was　ever　given：　AGONISTES。
　　Where　would　a　Supplicant　find　him？　Usually　in　what　he　calls　'the　burning　places'：　deserts；　for　instance。　But　sometimes　he　can　be　found　in　'the　burning　places'　in　our　own　inflamed　cities：　places　where　despair　has　seared　away　all　belief　in　hope　and　love。
　　There　he　moves；　silently；　irreproachably；　his　presence　barely　more　than　a　rumour。　And　there　he　waits　for　those　who　need　him　to　e　to　find　him。
　　When　a　Supplicant　presents　him　or　herself　there　is　never　coercion。　There　is　never　violence；　at　least　until　the　Supplicant　has　signed　over　his　or　her　flesh。　Then　yes；　there　may　be　some　second　thoughts；　once　the　work　begins。　The　truth　is　that　on　many　occasions　a　Supplicant　has　begged　to　die　rather　than　continue　to　be　'empowered'　by　Agonistes。　It　hurts　too　much；　they　tell　him；　as　his　scalpels　and　his　torches　work　their　terrible　surgery　upon　him。　But　in　all　the　time　he　has　been　wandering　the　world　Agonistes　has　only　ever　granted　the　fort　of　death　to　one　Supplicant　who　changed　his　mind。　That　man　was　Judas　Iscariot；　who　whined　so　much　Agonistes　hanged　him　from　a　tree。　The　rest　he　works　on　despite　their　plaints；　sometimes　for　days　and　nights；　ing　back　to　his　labours　when　a　piece　of　flesh　has　healed　and　he　can　begin　on　the　next　part　of　the　surgery。
　　There　are　some　minor　pensations　for　all　this　pain；　which　Agonistes　will　sometimes　offer　his　Supplicants　as　he　works。　He　will　sing　to　them；　for　instance；　and　it　is　said　that　he　knows　every　lullaby　written；　in　every　language　of　the　world；　songs　of　the　cradle　and　the　breast；　to　soothe　the　men　and　women　he　is　remaking　in　the　image　of　their　terror。
　　And；　if　for　some　reason　he　feels　particularly　sympathetic　to　the　Supplicant；　Agonistes　may　even　give　his　victim　a　piece　of　his　own　flesh　to　eat：　just　a　sliver；　cut　with　one　of　his　finest　scalpels；　from　the　tender　flesh　of　his　upper　thigh；　or　inner　lip。　According　to　legend；　there　is　no　food　more　forting；　more　exquisite；　than　the　flesh　of　Agonistes。　The　merest　sliver　of　it　upon　the　tongue　of　the　Supplicant　will　make　him　or　her　forget　all　the　horrors　they　are　enduring；　and　deliver　them　to　a　place　of　paradisical　calm。
　　Then　once　his　client　is　soothed　Agonistes　continues　his　work；　cutting；　infibulating；　searing；　cauterizing；　stretching；　twisting；　reconfiguring。
　　Sometimes　he　will　bring　a　mirror　to　show　his　Supplicants　what　he　has　so　far　created。　Sometimes　he　will　announce　that　he　wants　the　results　to　be　a　surprise；　and　so　the　Supplicant　is　left　to　imagine；　through　the　haze　of　pain；　what　Agonistes　is　turning　them　into。
　　
　　　II
　　It　is　an　art；　what　Agonistes　achieves。
　　He　claims　it　is　The　first　Art；　this　creation　of　new　flesh；　being　the　art　God　used　to　call　life　into　being。　Agonistes　believes　in　God；　prays　to　Him　night　and　morning：　thanking　Him　for　making　a　world　in　which　there　is　so　much　hopelessness　and　such　a　profound　hunger　for　revenge　that　Supplicants　will　seek　him　out　and　beg　him　to　reconfigure　them　in　the　image　of　their　monstrous　ideal。
　　And　it　appears　that　God　apparently　finds　no　offence　in　what　Agonistes　does；　because　for　two　and　a　half　thousand　years　he　has　walked　the　planet；　performing　what　he　calls　his　holy　art；　and　no　harm　has　e　to　him。　In　fact　he　has　prospered。
　　Some　of　the　people　who　went　under　his　knife；　like　Pontius　Pilate；　have　a　place　in　our　culture's　history。　Many　are　anonymous。　He　has　transformed　potentates　and　gangsters；　failed　actors　and　architects；　women　who've　been　cheated　by　their　husbands　and　e　seeking　a　new　form　to　greet　their　adulterer　in　their　marriage　beds；　school　mistresses　and　perfumiers；　dog…trainers　and　charcoal　burners。　The　mighty　and　the　insignificant；　the　noble　and　the　peasant。　As　long　as　they　are　sincere　Supplicants；　and　their　prayers　sound　genuine；　then　Agonistes　will　be　attentive　to　them。
　　Who　is　he；　this　Agonistes？　This　artist；　this　wanderer；　this　transformer　of　human　flesh　and　bone？
　　In　truth；　nobody　really　knows。　There　is　a　heretical　volume　in　the　Vatican　Library　called　'A　Treatise　on　the　Madness　of　God'；　written　by　one　Cardinal　Gaillema　in　the　mid…seventeenth　century。　In　it；　Gaillemia　argues　that　the　account　of　the　Creation　of　the　world　offered　in　the　Book　of　Genesis　is　wrong　in　several　particulars；　one　of　which　is　relevant　here：　on　the　seventh　day；　the　Cardinal　argued；　God　did　not　rest。　Instead；　driven　into　a　kind　of　ecstatic　fugue　state　by　the　labours　of　His　Creation；　God　continued　to　work。　But　the　creations　He　summoned　up　in　His　exhausted　state　were　not　the　wholesome　beasts　with　which　He　had　populated　Eden。　In　one　day　and　one　night；　wandering　amongst　the　fresh　glories　of　creation；　He　summoned　up　forms　that　defied　all　the　beauty　of　his　early　work。　Destroyers　and　demons；　these　were　the　antithesise　the　wholesome　forms　that　He　had　made　in　the　first　six　days。
　　One　of　the　creatures　Jehovah　created；　the　Cardinal　claims　was　Agonistes。　That's　why　Agonistes　can　pray　to　His　Father　in　Heaven；　and　expect　to　be　listened　to。　He　is…at　least　according　to　the　Cardinal　Gaillema's　account…one　of　God's　own　creations。
　　And　there　is　no　doubt　that　in　his　perverse　way　Agonistes　serves　a　function。　Over　the　years；　over　the　centuries；　he　has　been　the　answer　to　countless　prayers　for　deliverance　from　powerlessness。
　　The　words　may　change　from　prayer　to　prayer；　but　the　meat　of　them　is　always　the　same：
　　〃O　Agonistes；　dark　deliverer；　make　me　in　the　image　of　my　enemies'　nightmares。　Let　my　flesh　be　the　stuff　from　which　you　carve　their　terrors；　let　my　skull　be　a　bell　which　sounds　their　death…knell。　Give　me　a　song　to　sing；　which　will　be　the　song　of　their　despair；　and　let　them　wake　and　find　me　singing　it　at　the　bottom　of　their　beds。〃
　　〃Unmake　me；　unknit　me；　transform　me。〃
　　〃And　if　you　cannot　do　that　for　me；　Agonistes；　then　let　me　be　excrement；　let　me　be　nothing；　less　than　nothing。〃
　　〃For　I　want　to　be　the　terror　of　my　enemies；　or　I　want　oblivion。〃
　　〃The　choice；　Lord；　is　yours。〃
　　
　　
　　　Book　Two
　　　The　Assassin　Transformed
　　
　　　I
　　The　city　of　Primordium　was　founded　before　any　of　the　great　cities　of　myth　or　history。　Indeed；　it　is　according　to　many　sources；　the　first　city　ever　built。　Before　Troy；　before　Rome；　before　Jerusalem；　there　was　Primordium。
　　Until　recently　it　was　ruled　by　a　dynasty　of　Emperors；　whose　long　tenure　had　steadily　produced　a　capacity　for　cruelty　that　would　have　challenged　the　worst　excesses　of　Rome's　corrupted　Caesars。　The　Emperor　Perfetto　XI。　for　instance；　who　controlled　Primordium　for　sixteen　years　until　the　Great　Insurrection；　was　a　man　familiar　with　every　corruption　of　mind　and　spirit。　He　lived　in　excessive　luxury；　in　a　palace　he　believed　impregnable；　caring　little　or　nothing　for　the　two　and　three　quarter　million　people　who　occupied　Primordium。
　　In　the　end；　that　was　his　undoing。
　　But　we'll　e　to　that。
　　
　　　II
　　First；　let　me　tell　you　about　Zarles　Kreiger；　who　came　from　the　lowest　strata　of　the　city。　As　a　child；　it　was　mon　for　him　to　eat　at　the　Vomitorium；　where…as　in　ancient　Rome…the　rich　food　disgorged　by　the　wealthy　and　overfed　could　be　purchased　for　a　small　amount　of　money；　and　consumed　a　second　time。　It　was　Kreigcr's　good　fortune　that　such　a　life　of　poverty　did　not　kill　him。　By　some　physical　paradox；　experiences　that　would　have　reduced　most　men　to　shadows　of　their　former　selves；　served　to　strengthen　Zarles。　By　the　time　he　was　thirteen　he　was　already　larger　than　all　his　older　brothers。　And　along　with　his　physical　prowess　came　something　else：　a　curiosity　about　how　the　infinitely　corrupt　city　in　which　he　lived　actually　worked。　Without　understanding　the　trap　in　which　he　was　caught；　he　reassured；　he　would　never　be　able　to　escape　from　it。
　　At　the　age　of　fourteen　he　became　a　runner　for　a　gangster　in　the　East　City　called　Duraf　Cascarellian；　and　quickly　elevated　himself　in　the　criminal's　employ；　simply　because　he　was　willing　to　do　anything　requested　of　him。　In　return；　Cascarellian　treated　Keiger　like　a　son；　protecting　him　from　capture　by　sending　men　out　after　Kreiger　to　clean　up　after　one　of　his　murders。　Kreiger　was　a　messy　killer。　Not　for　him　the　simple　slit　across　the　throat。　He　liked　to　use　scythes；　first　disembowelling　his　victims　then　strangling　them　with　their　own　entrails。
　　
　　Now　such　behaviour　does　not　go　unnoticed　for　long；　even　in　a　city　as　filled　with　excesses　as　Primordium。　And　Kreigcr's　reputation　was　increased　considerably　by　the　fact　that　the　hits　Cascarellian　was　having　him　make　were　often　political。　Judges；　congressmen；　journalists　who　were　critical　of　the　Emperor：　these　were　often　Kreiger's　victims。　Personally；　he　cared　not　at　all　about　the　affiliation　of　his　victims。　Blood　was　blood　as　far　as　Kreiger　was　concerned；　and　he　took　the　same　pleasure　in　it　whether　it　poured　from　the　flesh　of　a　Republican　or　a　Royalist。
　　Then　he　met　a　woman　called　Lucidique；　and　all　that　changed。
　　
　　　III
　　Lucidique　was　the　daughter　of　a　Senator　who　had　been　lately　plaining　in　open　forum　about　the　fact　that　the　city　was　running　into　a　state　of　decadence。　The　Perfetto　Dynasty　was　using　the　people's　taxes　to　fund　its　own　pleasures；　the　Senator　argued：　it　had　to　stop。
　　The　order　quickly　came　down　from　the　Emperor：　rid　me　of　this　Senator。　Cascarcllian；　not　giving　a　damn　about　the　philosophical　issues；　but　happy　to　oblige　his　Emperor；　sent　Kreiger　out　to　kill　the　political　troublemaker。
　　Kreiger　went　to　the　Senator's　estate；　caught　him　in　the　garden　amongst　his　roses；　gutted　him　and　carried　him　inside。　He　was　in　the　act　of　arranging　the　Senator's　body　on　the　dinner　table；　when　Lucidique　entered。　She　was　naked；　having　just　e　from　bathing。　But　she　was　also　prepared　for　the　intruder。　She　carried　two　knives。
　　She　circled　Kreiger；　an　he　stood　amongst　the　blood　and　the　innards　of　her　fath