So now where am I?
Malcontent and no different from as I've always been.
A small comfort, I suppose, to realize that I am so
fundamentally unchanged by the passage of years ...
Its led me to believe this was my destiny all along.
The relative ease with which I acquired the Mad Arabs' book
first told me that, it did. Got it by owl, delivered right here
to me in the safety and relative comfort of the common room.
I had been corresponding with a small sect of True Believers
-utter fanatics- in Egypt since my second year and by the middle
of my third, they were wholeheartedly willing to part with
the horrortreasure, so strong was their belief in my eventual
skill to do this thing up right.
(What is it they say? "And a little child shall lead them"?)
As I studied, I picked and chose, carefully scrutinizing each passage
for telltale signs of what was truth and what was sheer impossible
invention - for although the author was mad, sometimes the truth
was stranger than the fiction.
Having very little interest in actually calling up the creature that
the Egyptians put their faith in me to deliver, I used the book to
foster my own ends...
(Have you by now, Gentle Good Reader, divined what those are,
or shall I have to spell them out for you?)
I studied and waited and bided my time, never using my unholy
knowledge unnecessarily ... tempting though it was on occasion...
(Power is always a dangerous thing, even more so when wielded
by an unpopular, tormented youth: those fucking marauders never
knew how close they came to becoming wormsfood at my hands.)
It may seem otherwise, but I have not taken leave of my senses,
I can assure you that. I know full well what the end of this could mean.
I'm not seeking anyones pity, either, you know.
Ever prideful, I write this to leave recorded proof of my skills and talents.
If I cannot have commanded respect in life, I should wish to at least command
it in death.
Never have I felt any fear for my almost certain demise at the culmination of this.
Truth be told, my long wait has been really more akin to ... well ...
a deliciously slow foreplay......
(As if Lucius were the only one to deserve a reputation as such a libertine!
And to hear him speak -not too terribly difficult, for he never stops-
one would think that...)
No, if my capabilities were well & truly known, then I fancy
I should be feared for far more than just the touch of my oily skin.
One more encounter with the Creature of my memory will likely
be the end of me...and that is plenty enough to make my decision...
For I am tired of this life...
