If you meet me, have some sympathy 6

Leaving the bank behind us crawling with furious demons, my captors dragged me over to the cathedral. In a small chapel there they followed the usual procedure of roughing up and amateur interrogation. I’d been through it so many times over the centuries but I humoured them, dropping just a few false leads (only to see the junior ones flap away with enthusiasm and then return dejected). Eventually they left me alone.

I let my human form fall asleep for a while and wandered strange dreamscapes picking my way around the steaming tar pits back home, trying to find something or someone I’d buried there. Just as I thought I was getting close, the red sky split open and a blinding light transformed the landscape into piles of dry bones. Someone was calling.

‘Sam!’

I woke myself up to see her standing over me.

‘You’re a mess, Sam’

She was right; my body had taken quite a mauling in the interrogation. She was immaculate as usual – at least as far as my swollen eyes could make out.

‘Come on, let’s clean you up.’

Sometimes it’s good to see an old enemy, but I don’t think the bosses would ever understand.