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Edward Lee - Grimoire Diabolique

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Edward Lee Grimoire Diabolique

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Grimoire Diabolique

by Edward Lee

PubIt! Edition

Necro Publications

2011

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GRIMOIRE DIABOLIQUE

2011 by Edward Lee

This digital edition 2011 Necro Publications

ISBN: 978-1-4524-6120-5

Cover, Book Design & Typesetting:

David G. Barnett

Fat Cat Graphic Design

http://www.fatcatgraphicdesign.com

a Necro Publication

5139 Maxon Terrace Sanford, FL 32771

http://www.necropublications.com

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If youre reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to BN.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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The following stories appeared together in the collection BRAIN CHEESE BUFFET, Deadite Press, May, 2010. The author extends his thanks to the publisher.

Mr. Torso, copyright 1994 by Edward Lee. First appeared in Hot Blood: Deadly After Dark, ed. by Jeff Gelb and Michael Garrett, Pocket Books.

Miss Torso, copyright 2003 by Edward Lee. First appeared as a limited-edition chapbook, Bloodletting Press, Oct., 2002.


The Dritiphilist, copyright 2002 by Edward Lee. First appeared in the limited-edition chapbook PARTNERS IN CHYME, Necro Publications, December, 2002.

Grub Girl in the Prison of Dead Women, copyright 200? by Edward Lee. First appeared in THE USHERS AND OTHER STORIES, Obsidian Press, Sept. 1999. Also appeared as a comic script entitled GRUB GIRL RETURNS, VEROTIKA #15.

The McCrath Model SS40-C Series S, copyright 2002 by Edward Lee. First appeared in the anthology EXCITABLE BOYS, Freak Press, Spring, 2002.

Makak, copyright 2004 by Edward Lee. First appeared as a limited-edition chapbook, Shocklines Press, Nov. 2004.

The Baby, copyright 2003 by Edward Lee. First appeared as a limited-edition chapbook, Bloodletting Press, Oct. 2003.

Mother, copyright 1999 by Edward Lee. First appeared in the magazine MIDNIGHT HOUR, Sept., 1999.

The Wrong Guy, copyright 1993 by Edward Lee. First appeared in the magazine Cyber-Psychos, A.O.D., June, 1993.

The following novellas appeared together in the collection BULLET THROUGH YOUR FACE, Deadite Press, May, 2010. The authors extends his thanks to the publisher.

Ever Nat, copyright 2003 by Edward Lee. First appeared as a limited-edition chapbook by Bloodletting Press, April, 2003.

Hands, copyright 1999 by Edward Lee. First appeared in THE USHERS AND OTHER STORIES, Obsidian Press, Sept., 1999.

The Salt-Diviner, copyright 1999 by Edward Lee. First appeared in THE USHERS AND OTHER STORIES, Obsidian Press, Sept., 1999.

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Table of Contents

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MR. TORSO

Ol Lud knew he was givin em purpose by what he was doin. This was Gods work according ta the books hed read, and Lud believed it might fierce, he did. Yessiree, he thought. Thats gettin it . He gandered cockeyed down at Miss August outa Hustler . As purdy a blondie as hed ever seen. Ooh, yeah. Awright, so sometimes it took awhiles. Sometimes he had trouble gettin the ol crane ta rise, but jimmy Christmas, at sixty-one, what fella wouldnt, ya know?

Whatd these gals be doin otherwise? Gettin diseases an all, smokin the drugs, gettin cornholed by fellas . Stead Lud was helpin em ta be what The Man Upstairs intended em ta be, an givin ta those without what theyse wanted fierce. And acorse paid fer. Ya know?

Luds mitt needed ta jack hisself up a tad longer fore hed be able to get it, sos he stared on at Miss August, one mighty purdy splittail with that velvety lookin snatch on her an that dandy pair of ribmelons. Yessir!

But it wasnt that he was no preevert or nothin bys doin this everday. He was puttin some real meanin in these gals lives, just like the books said. He was givin em purpose.

Once he was able ta pull hisself a stiffer an get to it, he wondered what the gal in the August centerfoldd look like without any arms n legs on her. Problee not too good , he reckoned.

But acorse sometimes Gods work werent purdy.

Tipps was contemplating the tenets of didactic Solipsism and its converse ideologies when he disembarked from his county car. Positive teleology? Tipps didnt buy it. It had to be subjectively existential. It has to be , he thought. Any alternative is folly.

County Technical Services looked like scarlet phantoms roving the darkness. Sirchie portable UV lamps glowed eerily purple. The techs wore red polyester utilities so that any accidental fiberfall wouldnt be confused as crime-scene residue by the Hair & Fibers crew back at Evidence Section. But Tipps, in his heather-gray Brooks Brothers suit, already harbored a clear notion that TSD was wasting their time.

The moon shone like a pallid face above the cornfield. Tipps walked toward the ravine, where red and blue lights throbbed. Maybe, by now, these south county boys were getting used to it. A young sergeant rested on one knee with his face in his hands.

Get up, Tipps ordered. Youre not a creamcake, youre a county police officer. Start acting like it.

The kid stood up and blinked hard.

Another 64? Tipps asked.

Yes sir. Its another torso thing.

Mr. Torso, Tipps thought. Thats what hed come to think of the perp as. Fifteen sets of limbs dumped on county roads like this the past three years. And three torsos, all, white cauc feems. The perp yanked their teeth and did an acid job on their faces, hands, and feet. Tipps ordered up the new g/p runs on all the parts but thus far to no avail. K-Y jelly and sperm in the three torsos; the sperm typed A-pos. Big deal , Tipps thought.

Down there, sir. The cop pointed into the lit ravine. I sorry, I just cant hack it.

This is getting to be a hard county , Tipps told himself and descended toward TSDs lights. Techs crawled on hands and knees with flash-hats. Field spots had been erected; they were looking for tire indentations to cast. Mr. Torso strikes again, Tipps muttered when he glanced further. At the culvert, two more techs were pulling severed arms and legs out of the pipe. Then a figure seemed to drift out of the eerie light. Beck, the TSD field chief.

So we got another torso job, Tipps said more than asked.

Beck, a woman, had thick glasses and frizzy black hair like a witchs. Uhhuh, she replied. Two arms, two legs. And another torso that doesnt match with the limbs. Whats that total now? Four torsos?

Yeah, Tipps said. The torso lay off to the side, white slack breasts descending into its armpits. The stumps, like the others, looked healed over. The face was an acid scab.

Ill know more once I get her in the shop, but Im sure its just like the others.

The others , Tipps reflected. The previous torsos had been crudely lobotomized, according to the deputy M.E. A hard pointed instrument thrust up through the left anterior eye socket. Eardrums punctured. Eyes glued shut. Mr. Torso was shutting down their senses. Why? Tipps wondered. Do another g/p run, he said.

Beck half-smiled. Thats been a waste so far, Lieutenant. Were never gonna get a records match on a genetic profile.

Just do it, Tipps said.

Becks sarcasm dissolved when she looked again to the ravine. Its just so macabre. This is the sixteenth set of limbs hes dumped but only the fourth body. What the fuck is he doing with bodies?

Tipps saw her point. And what in Gods name , he thought, is the purpose behind all this? Tipps felt strangely assured of that. His philosophies itched. He knew there was a purpose.

Ol Luds purpose, acorse, was ta get the gals knocked up. Then hed wait till they dropped their rugrat an hed sell it ta folks who couldnt have critters of their own. An he wasnt profiteerin neitherhed use the green ta pay the bills and give the leftover ta charity. Nothin wrong with that.

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