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Summary
I can see the door from the corner of my eye, but it is useless to me. This man now has power over the whole ministry and, despite his temper tantrums and apparent frustration with his new position, he is very well aware that there is very little I, or anyone else in the organisation, can do to fight him anymore. He is a buffoon, a usurper entirely unworthy of his position, but that doesn’t make him any less dangerous.
He approaches still, the dark paint around his eyes emphasising his furious expression.
[...]
It is impossible, but he is back.
“Papa?”
My voice is barely a whisper, filled with all the appropriate awe at the sight of a man resurrected. But he looks strange too. Something is wrong. His robes are new, though the right colour scheme. His hair has gotten longer, curling slightly at the ends. Well, it has been years. But he was dead. Everything hurts. I didn’t think the stab wound was that bad but perhaps I was mistaken. Perhaps I am dying and he is here to welcome me back to Hell, as he had welcomed me to Earth.