Search for the Sunlight

Death was imminent. In a final frenzy, the hopeless tongue-tied Word Worm lashed out like a whip, its slimy body wriggling in silent agony, as its serpent-like skin baked and cracked in the searing heat of the midday sun.

On the opposite bank of the river, Black Sid the Mouth wretched and choked as Sherlock’s well-placed missile, wedged firmly in its throat, cut off the vital air supply, subjecting the deceitful beast to a slow and painfully death.

The darkness that had reigned for so many years, had turned to light and with their selfish agenda in ruins, and no purpose left for them on earth, the hideous pair bisodised and melted like boiling tar. They howled like banshees as their evil souls oozed down through the soil, into the porous rocks below where, just like the greedy politicians and puppet hangers-on who went before them, they would suffer eternal torment and damnation in the depths of Hades. For them, and their likes, there would be no forgiveness.