Mark nodded. 'Dr Warren knows,' he said carefully. 'I heard him talking to Dad.'

Damien's face clouded over slightly. 'What did he say?' It was more a command than a question.

'He said'—Mark struggled to find the words—'he said that the Devil could create his image on earth.'

'Go on.'

Mark looked away. A tear rolled down his cheek.

'Say it, Mark,' said Damien very quietly.

Mark swallowed hard. 'He said... you're a son of the Devil.'

***

In another part of the woods, Ann and Richard strolled together in silence. From a distance one would have. thought that they were two lovers out on an early morning walk, after having spent the night wrapped in each other's arms.

But this man walking with his lady had eyes that were bloodshot from worried exhaustion, and his mind was obviously racing. He was clearly on the lookout for something that he fervently hoped he would not find...

***

Damien stared hard at Mark. 'Keep on going,' he said.

And finally it all came tumbling out. 'I saw what you did to Teddy in the hall that day,' Mark shouted, 'and I saw what happened in the classroom; and I saw what happened to Atherton and Pasarian! Your father tried to kill you!' he cried. 'They say he was crazy, but it was because he knew!' Mark fell to his knees, shaking.

Damien was becoming perturbed. He didn't want to hurt Mark.

'Mark-' he began.

'Nooooo...' wailed Mark.

'You're my brother. I love you-‘

'Don't call me your brother!' Mark cried. ‘The Anti-Christ has no brother!'

Damien grabbed Mark by the shoulders. 'Listen to me!' he shouted.

Mark shook his head. 'Admit it,' he blurted out, ‘you killed your own mother!'

That did it. That snapped the bond. 'She was not my mother!' bellowed Damien. 'My mother-'

'- was a jackal.’

'Yes!' cried Damien proudly, his voice echoing through the woods. He was in full command of his power now. His eyes burned brightly, and his face took on a glow that was clearly not human. 'I was born in the image of the greatest power in the world,' he said, his voice growing in intensity. ‘The Nail!' he cried. 'The Desolate One! Desolate because his greatness was taken from him and he was cast down. But he has risen in me! He is looking through my eyes and he is wearing my body!'

Mark looked around desperately. He was beyond fear; he felt listless, incapable of movement. It was like a horrible dream, an endless nightmare, and he could not escape it.

'Come with me,' said Damien. 'I can take you with me.'

Mark looked up. He stopped trembling and stared at his cousin for a long time, then finally, slowly shaking his head, he said, 'No.'

Damien pleaded. 'Don't make me beg you!'