Glens Edge is a story idea I've been working on for a little while. If response is good, I'll post more! (along with other things too!) Here's one page of it:

The priest arrived to his scheduled appointment right on time. To keep Fa'al waiting would be a costly mistake. "You may go in" said the receptionist. "They are expecting you."

Jerome pushed gently on the gigantic door which swung easily open. The immense office space was handsomely decorated with priceless artifacts from several world wars, paintings and sculptures from renaissance masters and exquisite furniture perfectly coordinated with the gold colored theme. The sweet smell of incense mingled with cigar smoke.

Four men were in the office, each powerful and wealthy. Bishop Grayson, advisor to Fa'al in religious matters. Moses, Fa'al's adopted son. Prince Sha'dee, son of Fa'al and Fa'al himself - the puppet master.

It was Moses who spoke, "Welcome and thank you for taking time out of your busy schedule to meet with us." A false smile revealed perfect teeth.

"It was no trouble. I am at your beckon call. It is my honor to be here." Fa'al remained standing, his back to the room, gazing through the wall of glass to the city below.

"Excellent!" Moses continued, "Because we have a mission for you." He paused mid-sentence, emphasizing the word mission.

"A mission?" Jerome queried.

Moses went on, "No doubt you remember calling upon Fa'al to save your life as you lay dying in a pool of your own blood from that gunshot wound to your chest." Moses rose from his chair and motioned Jerome closer. "Remember how you cried out to O'Heem to save you? Remember the feeling of abandonment, the fear that you were going to die after all you had done for him? Remember?"

Cigar smoke rose from Fa'al's cigar as he drew its smoke deep into his lungs and held it there exhaling only after Jerome responded to Moses with a weak, "Yes, I remember... I remember being a missionary in a small African village. I remember the warlords coming to kill us - kill us all." His gaze paralleled that of Fa'al and he too now stared through the glass wall.

"Yes" Moses said, "OUR warlord, there to do OUR bidding!" he sounded agitated. "Jerome, do you know what our bidding was? Have you figured it out?"

"Yes," Jerome replied, "the moment the red light of Fa'al enveloped me and I knew I would live. His bidding was to kill missionaries, to stop the spread of Christianity. To leave that part of the world in darkness. To strangle hope." Jerome recited coldly.

"Excellent! Yes! Fa'al was right to make you one of ours..." Moses gloated.