The Prophecy II Page #3

Plus, he left this|at the crime scene.

Somehow, he managed to check in and out|without leaving his name.

But we traced him to you|through that patient I.D. number.

So what can you tell us|about the man?

Nothing. I...|I barely knew him.

It's not surprising.

Does that ring a bell?

Well, he had a,|um, like...

- You Val?|- Yes.

- You the nurse?|- Yes.

- You done with her?|- Yeah. Take her.

Come here.

- I don't know what to tell you.|- Yeah. Shut up.

Listen.

No. Really listen.|Both ears.

Nod to tell me both ears|are listening. All right.

I've dealt with a thousand bodies in|this office. Floaters, crispy critters,

bunk bait; bodies you wouldn't|even know were bodies if it|wasn't for a driver's license.

- Yes, well, I don't see|what that has to do...|- Don't talk, Val.

Bodies chopped and minced and skinned|and used as table decorations.

- That's your job.|- You're talking again.|Yeah. No. Listen.

Four years ago, a body came in here|tattooed like those;

crushed like those;|eyeless.

But hey, I'm a sport.|I play along.

I tried to determine|what had rolled into my office.

But the questions just got deeper.|No sign of growth,

no white cells,|no optic nerves.

I realized what was there before me|had never been born.

- That's not possible.|- That's what I thought.

And then it was gone. Burned up in|a flash one night. All the records...

Everything to indicate that|it had been there disappeared.

Everybody that had anything|to do with that body...

has either died...|or gone mad,

- including my friend Thomas.|- Who's he?

A detective.|Became a monk.

- He used to send me cheese wheels|every Christmas.|- Where can I find him?

You can't. He's dead.

Burnt to ash up at|St. Gregory's Monastery.

What do you mean,|"burnt to ash"?

You look like|a nice person, Val.

Take my advice:
|walk away.

Don't get involved|whatever you do.

Get the lights.

Hey,Joe.

Thank you.

Miss Rosales, I really don't know|what else I can tell you.

His death shocked everybody.

Thomas was a fine member|of our order.

- I understand he used to be a detective.|- Mm-hmm.

Well, did he ever talk to you about|any odd cases that he had?

Anything dealing with cults|or gangs or anything?

- Miss Rosales, I really can't|disclose anything more.|- I know, Father.

- Now, if you'll excuse me.|- It's just that...

he was involved with|something a while ago...

and it's something that I|may have stepped into as well.

It's, um, angelic script.

According to the old Hebrews, God marked|all his angels with such a sign.

Or so Thomas told me. He was|a bit of an expert on such matters.

How so?

All right.|Uh, listen.

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