See, right now you're afraid. You see the blood and that little bit of goop on my shoulder that you're terrified is a bit of brain. It is by the way. Not human, but still. More than that, you're wondering why you can't pick up that phone right now. That's probably the bit that's got your spine tingling more than anything. Because that's the scary thought, isn't it? You see wonders every day...men in tights shoothing through the skies, caught up in the sun... ...you see that and you understand, deep down, that the sun casts shadows, and that if the bright's so bright, you sure as hell don't want to see what lives in the dark. You can tell you're on the edge of one right now, can't you? And you've got this sense that if you step in, you'll never come back. you'll be alone with the dark things from here until the end of time. But then again, you think, maybe it's not that you can't pick up that phone. Maybe it's that you don't want to. Maybe it's that a handsome bloke dressed sharp as a tack walked into your shop, and there's nothing scary happening here at all.
Life is power, power leaves a trace...an echo. My best friend died years ago, but the echo remains. But you can't kill an echo. That second death, it's impossible. It breaks all the laws of what I know about the supernatural. But that's the damn trouble with the supernatural, there's plenty you don't know.
First, you never get anything for nothing. Every spell you cast. Every little cheat... It costs you. I don't know how we'll pay for the wards that mask our shelter here. Or the sigil that will send us across to my universe... but I promise you we will. We'll lose something, yeah? And it will be something we'll miss.
He destroyed one universe and he'll have this one too, unless you can con him, unless you can pull one over on a god. Don't think. Don't listen to them screaming. Take the power from the horrible sacrifice and use it to fuel... One. Last. Trick.
It's so convenient to blame it all on some sneering, arrogant Satan -- sitting on a fiery throne, plotting to corrupt our souls. But if there is a devil -- he's just another projection of our sins. It's no wonder the Crime Syndicate won. Hell, their victory was assured before they ever set foot in our universe. This world was made for them.
I didn't want to come to this vampire-infested dump. If you won't let me leave you... then I'm going to stay protected inside this magic circle while the vampires come and kill you. And then I'll be free of the whole lot of-- huh?'
Look, Zee, I'll admit it. I'm only doing this to get my hands on all the goodies in that room. I mean, we're talking about what could be the rarest collection of magical artifacts ever assembled under one roof. But I need your help. That lot in there knows better than to trust me. But they will trust you. If you come, they'll follow.
I wasn't far away. I felt someone performing a work up here, something big. I wanted to have a look. If I'd known it would've ended up with me getting half-strangled by an insane tree god, I would've left well enough alone.
Every choice we're faced with, every decision we make, no matter how simple and black-and-white it may seem, ... take my word for it -- someone, somewhere out there, is always going to get the short end of the stick. And it's not the things we do, it's the things we don't do, that keep us awake at night.
Ever have one of "those" friends? You know the kind. The kind of friend who always leaves you with the distinct impression that it was only a matter of time before they were going to take some time out of their busy schedule to finally getting around to killing you? Well, Papa Midnite was the poster child for one of those "friends".