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Fingers Stained with Evil Excerpts

      The focal point of Fingers Stained with Evil is during the Dark Ages when religion attempted, and partly succeeded, in disastrous mind control on a global scale. All productive thought was brought to a halt, not only along religious lines, but also in every other area of life—civil, scientific, secular and commercial. Poverty was widespread for the masses, while the clergy and wealthy classes exploited those they had kept in serfdom. Barefoot peasants were forced to support the castles on the hills and bring money into the church coffers to sustain extravagant excesses.

      “Listen, it’s Hernando whom you drove out of your presence.”
      Hearing this, Torquemada flung the phone across the room and smashed it into the wall as he yelled, “Heretic!” His arm instantly became paralyzed.

      “By the way, my dear brother Mendoza. I was looking at the list of those who are with Christ, who are said to be ‘born in Zion,’ and I noticed some that I tortured and put to death at the behest of the church were on that list. I also noticed that none of our spiritual leaders were on that list. How do you explain this?”

      “My friend, Marino…he did it, Lev. He stole two wristwatches. I didn’t take them; Marino did. He gave me one of them and as soon as we put them on our wrists, our left arms became paralyzed.”

      I awakened with a flood of emotions. I remembered my last experiences. Not only the pain, but also the loneliness as I felt my life waning. No one cared for me except my master. However, I knew his only concern was his loss of moneymaking property. He was absolutely inhuman and I hated him. I felt numb from abuse and welcomed the shortness of breath.
      So I could not understand my easy breathing and feeling of wellness. I opened my eyes expecting to find myself in my stinking cramped quarters that I shared with my hapless sisters in affliction. When I saw the beautiful spacious room I was in, I was wide-eyed with amazement. I looked around and noticed the beautiful flowers on the table…


      Silvia’s eyes flooded with tears. “I didn’t know you cared about me. I thought everyone had forgotten me. I can never forgive my dad for what he did, but I am happy to know you did care for me. You can’t imagine how it feels to be betrayed by your father.”

      I stirred to life, screaming and thrashing, waiting for the rod to beat me again and again. I had begged for mercy and writhed where I lay, wondering if at last the beating was over.
      I suddenly realized I was breathing easily and without pain. How strange! I clearly remembered the agony on my bloodied back and legs.
      I dared not open my eyes for then they would know I was alive and would continue beating me. It was silent—I heard no angry voices and felt no more blows. It was so quiet I feared I may have expired and was in an afterlife of some sort. As I lay there, my back felt no pain and was not sticky with blood and welts. Strangely, I felt very good now, yet my memory registered pain.


      Sultan Jamal was stunned and silent. Somehow his secret was known and now there was nowhere to hide. His family now hated him for what he had done to his own little daughter, and now everyone would look with disdain upon him. How could he face her return to life?

      After some time, I realized that not only did nothing hurt any more, but also my body felt very good. I remembered the terrible pain of the birthing process, and I remembered the baby was dead. And then I couldn’t move or hear anything and everything turned black. But now, somehow, that pain was gone. It was so quiet I could hear birds singing somewhere.


      He wanted to speak, but he could find no words for the moment. He just stood there with tears welling up in his eyes and running down his cheeks. As the silence lengthened, Reva looked up and saw tears running down her father’s face. Tears have their own language that sometimes speak better than words. For the first time, Reva saw her father as a broken man who needed to be healed and forgiven.

      Otto knew he had a lot of shame and humiliation to face. He had carried out the so-called “perfect murder” only to now be exposed and humiliated for the horrible murder of his wife.

      “So why am I speaking to you? I cannot change the past. I stand guilty and condemned before you. I did not come here to justify myself. I was a criminal and abuser of my fellow man. But, I am here to say I am not the same Captain Blade who proudly walked the deck of his ship beholding your misery. I have come back to ask your forgiveness and to become your servant. I am here to offer my services to you to help you…”

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