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Chapter 4-Ancestor Worship
Once again Maryann slowly returned from slumber to hell. As she sat up, she saw the envelope. She picked it up, then put it down again. She was afraid to open it, but finally she did. She unfolded the parchment and read it:
This is the last envelope. Your last punishment will be administered by the envoy. You will then be free of the curse, although it will leave you marked for life. But now it is time you were made ready. Stand on the box and lock your wrists in the manacles which hang overhead.
Maryann did as she was told, somewhat heartened by the promise of freedom. She stood on the box with her arms chained overhead. "What or who is the envoy?" she wondered aloud.
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"I am the envoy," I said, stepping out of the dark corner where I had been standing.
"How did you get here? I didn't see anyone come in."
"I had no need of the door," I told her. She hadn't realized I'd been there all along.
"You're the old man who sold me those books."
"No, I am his ancestor. He still has the advantage of life, which unfortunately I do not." I was dressed in a combination of medieval, renaissance, and thrift store clothing, with makeup to make me look very old. I spoke in a raspy half-whisper. Additionally, I had removed Maryann's contact lenses during her last period of unconsciousness, so I was somewhat of a blur to her.
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