Before the mirror

The heavy-set man regarded himself in the mirror. His body was a jigsaw puzzle of mismatched flesh. Adjoining the pallid face of a Victorian gentleman were a neck and torso of coarse sunbeaten skin. Around his right arm coiled a dragon, it’s head disappearing abruptly into patch of lily-white skin. The fingers looked like they had come from twelve different people. All of this was held together by crude, blackened stitches.

 

But the strangest feature of the hulking form was behind the man’s back, out of his gaze. According to the detective, carved there was an elaborate pattern of mystic symbols, the purpose of which even he couldn’t figure out.

 

Who were all these people? What kind of lives they had led, who were their family and friends, and how they had died? And who has Adam Ha-rishon? A mishmash of persons and identities? Or nobody at all? The image staring back from the mirror had no answers to give.

 

But one man would have the answers, would know the secrets of the withered flesh’s origins. And Adam Ha-rishon would not rest until he had pried them from Dr. Sconce.