Full resolution (JPEG) - On this page / på denna sida - In the old Tower - III
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earth has never taken any interest in the animals,”
interrupted St. Anastasius, “nor do we wish to
hear anything about them in Heaven.
Blasphemous fool, you had better think of your own
soul instead of theirs, your own wicked soul about
to return to the darkness from whence it came.”
“My soul came from Heaven and not from the
Hell you have let loose on earth. I do not believe
in your Hell.”
“You soon will believe in it,” wheezed the
Grand Inquisitor, his eyeballs reflecting invisible
flames.
“The wrath of God is upon him, he is mad, he
is mad!” called out a voice.
A cry of terror rang through the Hall of
Judgment:
“Lucifer! Lucifer! Satan is amongst us!”
Moses rose from his seat, gigantic and fierce,
his Ten Commandments in his sinewy hands and
flashes of lightning in his eyes.
“How angry he looks,” I whispered awestruck
to the patron saint of the dogs.
“He is always angry,” the little saint
whispered back in terror.
“Let no more be said about this spirit,”
thundered Moses. “The voice I have heard is a
voice from the smoking lips of Satan. Man or
demon, away from here! Jehovah, God of
Israel, put forth Thy hand to smite him down!
Burn his flesh and dry up the blood in his veins!
Break all his bones! Cut him off from Heaven
and earth and send him back to the Hell from
whence he came!”
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