Wilson Greene waits for his freedom while monsters growl within the walls. Deep, unnatural darkness shrouds the prison since the Brotherhood murdered his penitentiary prophet Luke Turner. Wilson sits in that darkness and waits for the blades his prophet promised would be plunged into him. He smiles in the dark though his guards and cellmates plan his murder. For his prophet's tattoos snake upon his skin, dark runes shifting in the shadows and promising that the death soon to be delivered is but a temporary sleep before he awakes a free man. The teeth of Wilson's bracelet rattle. Luke Turner has harvested all of Wilson's faith, and that prisoner with the ink shifting beneath his skin has no reason to suspect those tattoos mark him for a terrible warden waiting beyond those prison walls.
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