New image, old enemy The deacon crept up to the door, stepped over the threshold and disappeared. The minutes passed. With Rose moaning and writhing in pain, the minutes seemed like hours, the leather strap in her mouth doing nothing to lessen the pain and anguish in her cries. Then the door swung open and Deacon walked in, leading a barefoot, bare-chested man in blue jeans. The Deacon held his hands behind his back, but the man didn't say a word. The reason was obvious - he had no mouth, only smooth skin in its place. I had not seen this man before, but I recognized him immediately, and not only because the Deacon was holding him with such fury. Six black dots formed lines on both sides of his face, three imprinted near his nose, three curled around each eye. I knew these marks, I had seen them before, when these dots seemed to float away from his skin as life left me. Lucas Johnson found a new body