I don’t know why but I always associated it with royalty. Regal and majestic, almost…no, it is. Magnificent and superior to the rest of us. It holds the colour of nobility, the impression of decadence and ultimate luxury. That was until now. I looked down at the horror stricken face, the gaze that looked past the fabric of current affairs and saw straight into the great beyond. I wish, no I hope, to one day see what lies beyond this…reality. Purple. She looked back up at me, not directly but you get the picture. The tone of her pimpled and imperfect mask of whoresomeness. This will be the last time…it must. I must rid myself of these spirits that will commandeer me almost at will. I must seek answers. I must return to my place of…discovery and consult the brother hood, or what remains of them. But not yet. First I must dispose of this body, of her body. Legend of the ripper had grown and spread like a viscous plague. It must be stopped. I must be stopped. Maybe I knew this, even whilst in my states of absent possession. Maybe that was why I wrote the letters. Maybe, huh! Maybe not. I am a monster. There is no place for me in this world or the next. I deserve everything I become.
September 14, 2014