They were bowing. Supplicating themselves at her feet.
One figure didn't bow: the ghost of Arthur Hill stood above them, the stitches of his Y incision looking ready to burst open as he laughed.
"All hail Quinn Maybrook, lord of hell," Arthur Hill said, chuckling.
- Clown In A Cornfield; The Church of Frendo by Adam Cesare (p.g 358)













