So... mature second half.
Samael threw an ancient statuette of a female across the room just past Bernard’s head. It was an imitation of his mother that had survived thousands of years. It took him centuries to find it, and when he did, he had to rip the tongue out of the man that had it. Sure, the historical society that kept it would miss him, but in the grand scheme of things, it belonged to Samael. It was his mother, after all.
“You were supposed to keep track of them all!”
Bernard did everything in his power to not cower in the presence of Samael. He was absolutely afraid of what this god would do, but he needed to survive this tantrum as he did all the others. The only difference is that this one was directed solely at him.
“Samael,” he reasoned, “they must have spoken
