There they sat the eight coming down from their higher minds, with bodies sated, hearts harder, souls darker.
Sherman collapsed over table ruddy red but not so healthy he was naked of cloth and skin gone to a better place, or so they say.
They knew he was still here, he could never leave he swore an oath he was a brother and now his penance would be collected, for he had been weak.
Around the corpse wisps swept in, nullifying the negative resonance, a shadow from the shadows whipped around the room keening unheard.
Eyes focusing in the din, their ids grasping human space, breathing again on their own, "come" said one old of face, young of mind, dark of heart eternal.
From the shadows emerged a little thing bedraggled, the keening shadow twisted itself round, the little one waved it away gently, then with finger lit the sconces.
Romantic light filled the room revealing the exotic scene, Sherman lay his flailed flesh inelegant truthful.
The little one in it's androgynous way carefully lovingly wrapped Sherman in pitch black cloth then put him over it's shoulder and left the chamber.
He who summoned the little one spoke "Seems Sherman was unfaithful, let us remember, nought can happen that can't be found out, so don't and live."
All sat tall as he took in each face remaining, he could smell fear, hear the heartbeat start to race, there was another weakone present.
Unanimously their heads turned to face Jeffery, he paled and stammered, "what do I need to do, please tell me what."
A collective sigh of disappointment with a taint of sadness settled then dissipated, "Jeffery you have but a day, spend it wisely"