Anyone ever tell you that you make a funny little squealing noise when you die? But seriously now, I'm sorry I didn't stand around and give your ghost ample time to slime me with ectoplasm or whine at me for killing you or whatever it was your ghost was going to do. What business is it of yours what I do after I rend your soul from your body?

Salem

Written by my hand on the 4th of Mournsend, in the year 1195.