.-- .... -.-- / -- ..- ... - / -.-- --- ..- / -... . / -.. . .- -.. ..--..

A sweet fragrance fills the room.
It’s a rose, but one I can't see.
I’m at a loss.
As fresh dinner fills my senses.
When a hand caresses my cheek.
Oh my, it’s my love.
I look behind me.
But they’re not there.~~I'm starting to feel things that don't exist.~~

I'm not a violent person.
I don't know why I did that.
I just saw black.
And then blood on my hands.
Streber, how I wish you were here.
I know you would know why.
Why do I bite?[The rest of the page is filled with drawings.]

I'm losing ideas on how to get rid of the bodies. I feel like they keep piling up but I'm not too sure where they are coming from. I know it's me, but when? I hardly leave the house, I hardly ever see people coming in and I don't hurt them, when do I have the time to do this? Moreover, I am unable to witness my own transgressions, for I am consumed by a darkness, only to awaken to the ghastly sight of a lifeless form adorned with bite marks. I possess knowledge of my actions, and yet, simultaneously, I am ignorant of them. This doesn't feel like me to do this. I'm also running low on canvases and red paint, adding to my plight.[Drawings on the rest half of the page before he continues writing on the next]I might know what to do with these forsaken bodies.I offer my sincerest apologies to those unfortunate souls, but I cannot bear the thought of imprisonment. The torment I endure within these walls is punishment enough... I've been keeping myself busy by reading the books I was provided by my unknown angel. The timeless works from Shakespeare and Edgar Allan Poe, almost as if they knew my taste in books. Rather good inspiration for my deranged writings as well. I have delved into their depths repeatedly, meticulously annotating and analyzing them as if I were a diligent student in the realm of English literature. I hope they bring me Grimm's Fairy Tales next. Penning down these words feels akin to conversing with a lost soul, for my mind is a labyrinth of chaos. I have no other way to vent out my thoughts and guilts, my sorrows and joys (even if I have very little joys). No one to talk to might be corrupting my mind, perhaps that's why I bite... My ink in my pen is low, this is my last... Maybe I'll leave a note for the angel, asking for such a pen? would it be deemed unappreciative of the blessings bestowed upon me? I'll put a pin in it, might just flip a coin like all my other grievances.

......It is with a deep sense of foreboding that I perceive my life drawing to a close, for a significant portion of it has been spent under the sway of Joe and [REDACTED], who have exerted complete control over my every action and decision. From the moment I wake until I retire to sleep, their influence has been all-encompassing. Now, in my twilight years, I am struck by the realization that I was never allowed to recognize the ailing state of my own grandson. Despite my earnest efforts to be a better parent than my own father, I am painfully aware that I have fallen short of that lofty aspiration. How could I have permitted them to deceive me in such a profound manner? I was led to believe that his missing eye was the tragic consequence of a fire when in truth, it was a result of their own actions. I was deceived, kept in the dark about the truth, as they skillfully manipulated my perception. The prime of my life was stolen from me, leaving behind a profound sense of loss and regret.......As I transitioned into adulthood, I found myself navigating through the complexities of life without a clear sense of purpose or direction, stumbling through the shadows of uncertainty. And yet, I allowed these tyrants to guide me through the very darkness they had created. My youth was cruelly robbed by my father's abuse and expectations, and my adulthood was further obscured by their insidious manipulation. They placed a metaphorical blindfold over my eyes, and I, foolishly, acquiesced. The consequences of their actions have left me grappling with a profound sense of betrayal and a gnawing regret for the years I lost under their control. I was a mere pawn in their game, unaware of the true nature of their intentions.......Now, in the twilight of my existence, I am left to ponder the choices I made and the opportunities I allowed to slip away. The realization that I was a mere puppet in the hands of Joe and [REDACTED] weighs heavily upon my conscience. They dictated my every move, leaving me bereft of agency and autonomy. The vibrant years of my life were tainted by their deceit, leaving me with a deep sense of longing for what could have been. I was denied the chance to truly live, make my own choices, and forge my own path. Instead, I was shackled by their manipulation, my potential stifled and my spirit dimmed. The scars of their control run deep, and as I reflect upon my life, I am filled with a profound sense of wanting to end this life. By death or not.......Hear me, oh Eyes, as I pray for your intervention. Unshackle me from the bonds that restrain me, and enable me to express my reverence for you. Or was this fate of mine always your plan?

[Passage from a handbook found in Evermore's desk drawer. The handbook has been archived with Ignacio's journal and Candy Man Killer's poems. To the side was a note left by someone else in green pen]

Eyes wouldn't have let this happen to you if he could have done anything about it.

[Recording origin unknown]

What have I done?

First Halloween out of school! ☆

It's not your fault

Oh, how life can be so twisted and vile
Full of sadness, despair, and hate
I wish I could feel love and live
But all I can feel is the pain that awaits
I wish I could find a reason to live
To find joy, happiness, and beauty
But all I feel is the darkness and the hate
The evil of the world that will never die

So I take my heart and bleed
As I take a final bow
Vile as it is,
Even this won't let me dieMaybe this is death,
Even death tortures me

Oh, maggots, how disgusting you are
Crawling on rotting flesh and bones
Your bodies are squirming and gross
Your very presence is a burden on this world
Oh how disgusting maggots can be
I feel sick just thinking about it
Those gross little creatures
They’re repulsive and disgusting
And a sight I’d rather not see
The idea of them makes me shiver
They make my skin crawl,
oh how they make me feel icky and queasy

Murder,
So cruel and unnecessary
To take someone’s life is a travesty
You don’t just take their life
You take their family, friends, and dreams too
To take away their joy and time
Leaving loved ones traumatized and destroyed and pained
Murder is not just a sin against the victim
But against the entire world too
And nobody should play this game
But I'm stuck playing,
A boardgame with dice that won't stop rolling,
Cards that keep flipping,
I want this game to end

How cruel it is to lie
To a kid that I see all day and night
I look into their eyes, full of innocence and trust
As they look up at me & listen to my liesI can’t believe I’m doing this
To the kid who I care for so much
But I have no choice
I have to do this for their own good

As a child, I thought that I could trust my caretaker
They would care for me,
and be there for me
Whenever I needed them
But how wrong I was
They would lie, manipulate, and treat me cruelly
I tried so hard to make them proud
But they would only hurt me deeper
They left me scarred and ruined
The boiling bath is my nightmare
Yet, despite all their cruel acts,
Sometimes they did show moments of care and love
Like when I would get sick or cry,
They would care for me and hold me closeFrank tried, but not hard enough,
His temper fuels him,
Even still
I hate you, but wish you will heal