To Monique for going above and beyond

the call of duty. You are the absolute best!

And to all my friends for being there when

I needed you most. To the RBL's for their

never-ending dedication and support.

Most of all, for you, the reader. Thank you

for taking this trip with me.

The way to overcome the angry man is with gentleness, the evil man with goodness, the miser with generosity and the liar with truth.

—An Indian proverb

It sounds good, doesn't it? If only people and life were that effing easy. Trust me, it takes more than a friendly biscuit to tame a hungry lion. And it's all fun and games until someone gets hurt. Then it's war.

—Savitar, Chthonian god

Dolor smiled as he finally felt the call of his summoning ring. For countless centuries he'd been asleep—cursed to wait for another human to grow enough testicles to awaken him. How he hated the dream goddess, Leta, for her abilities to trap him to this fate. To make him the lapdog of a mere mortal. Now the bitch would pay.

But first he'd have to deal with this pathetic mortal who had temporary power over him.

Leaning his head back, he allowed the conscious part of himself to travel through the darkness until he appeared as an apparition before his summoner.

"See! I told you it would work!"

Dolor frowned at the small, round male who had beady blue eyes, glasses, and a bald scalp that gleamed under the grueling fluorescent lights. He stood next to a taller human whose blond hair was cut close to his head. His green eyes were feral with madness and anger.