Richard Godwin. ©
‘It is there always there deep inside me, my companion, my host, my parasite, my lover more demon than mistress, and then the dark dark conjurings. For what manner of love is there betwixt a man and a woman? Is it love is it that thing the name by which it is called? Or is it something else, some primal thing that hides in the word lies.’
[Extracts from patient 1, as entered by Dr. Malice.]
What is a villain I say? He is a man who does not heed moral compulsions, who achieves what he durst with no recourse to any need for justification, is he bad, or is he other?
Think of the Bankoff’s conundrum. I do not have a wife called Dorothy.
(And if perchance as here I slip into an archaic vernacular, well, reader, you know full well the reasons for that.)
I am not a madman.
Voice 1: I am the voice of God and I summon him to kill on my behalf, for vengeance is mine. I will ask him to slay them, yeah slay them all.
Voice 2: I am the voice of the Other God, the real God for there is no truer than me, and I decide the fate of mankind in the furnace of my hatred, deep as it is.