But that was impossible, because I’d seen the models tear Jesus’s head off.
“Help me,” the man on the floor said again, but this close I could hear it wasn’t a man’s voice at all. It was a woman’s voice.
“We need to get out of here,” I whispered and backed away, even as Morrison stepped forward to look down at the body.
“Jesus?” he asked.
The man on the floor chuckled in that woman’s voice and sat up. As soon as he dropped his arms away from his head, I saw that it was Jesus but it wasn’t. It was Titania, wearing Jesus’s skin like a suit. She was wrapped up in it, but it fell from her shoulders as she got to her feet. She was wearing a red b*a and panties, but they were mostly covered in blood and shreds of meat.
“Jesus isn’t here anymore,” she said with a smile, and I saw more bits o
