Written in England, 1804.
By Unknown

I have seen and heard many monsters in my lifetime, yet in my old age I must admit that I have become bored. Maybe, that's why this inked-quill feels so crook, I haven't used it in awhile, I've been getting the Butler to sign my papers recently... Anyhow, I decided to go walking back out in the old garden to connect with the undead last night, I told them that I would join them soon, but unlike all the other nights that I've been trying to connect with them for the past 20 years, I got a response - maybe something even more, a man. A man walked out of the thin dark air and tipped his hat, a nice young gentleman, young in comparison to me. After hearing of my glooms he simply smiled and said that he would welcome me with warm, long, arms. I thought to myself, 'I don't deserve God, and this man certainly is no Devil.' He must've heard me thinking aloud, he stated that he didn't want me to die, but experience cheer before it was to be taken from me. So that's what I'm going to do for my last few days of freedom with this shadow hanging over my back. If anything, I deserve to be torn and ripped apart for leaving the poor girl with that horrifying creature, at least that man from the foundation didn't get her. Nevertheless, this man whom wears the night sky reassures me, that everything is going to be fine - even after I leave, Cherophobia will still blossom.

Sig.

(There was no signature of proof to who legally owns this journal letter, it was found in the burned remains of a mansion that stood just outside of West England.)