旼컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴커 � Team Eeeek: Hymie Krausmeyer: The UnAnointed Page 33 � 쳐컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴캑 � Hymie peered up at the big woman and found that he could not discern her � � age. Her face held a network of intersecting lines yet the skin itself � � appeared firm, robust, with even a hint of pink where Hymie expected � � pallid grey. � � � � "I'm eighty-six," the woman answered to Hymie's unspoken question. "I'm � � about as old and as dilapidated as this worn out church." � � � � For the first time Hymie took in the tiny apsidal alcove in which he had � � been cloistered shortly before the service had ended. From atop a stool � � in the center of the area, he had undergone the rejection of each of the � � beautiful seven "Servants" who had entered, turned up their noses and � � hastily retreated. Although he was in no mood for further rejection, he � � evidenced a certain fascination for the occult objects which adorned the � � darkened room. There were cauldrons and bottles and gemstones and amulets � � resting everywhere. � � � � "Most of the items housed here are centuries old," the woman said. "Some � � of them pre-date the time of Christ." When Hymie looked at her, she � � added, "We use them in our rituals." � 읕컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴컴켸