“Who are you? It is not a real man that takes advantage of a helpless man who can’t do anything to save his life. You’re not about to kill me, are you? We can talk about this. Name your price, okay? You don’t love to spill blood of the innocent, do you? I know you don’t! I’ve read about you in the New York Times as one who loves God to the core and would not take life you didn’t create.”
The person, who had walked in, said no word in response to all I ranted about, but switched on the torch again, and quickly pointed it to a corner. I followed the strong illumination that poured out, and saw a wall that had inscriptions already familiar to me—Don’t Think You Can Get Away From Me.
“Have you seen that?” The person said at last. It was a male voice that I heard, one not hostile, but had lit
