It has been a month since I have last spoken to you. I consider you a person as the present company I keep begs for the blood of others to which I grant. With each demon I kill, and with each monster I return to Oblivion, my rage only grows. It has become endless, my capacity for such emotion, and I am saddened to say, I enjoy it. I revel in murder, I rejoice in being soaked in blood. I feel the power when I swing Shadowplay and I feel numb when I sit idly. I am in Vegas no longer. A demon I tortured has spoken to me about a being who smites with strength and commands lightning in Seattle. I hope that it is another wielder, one I can speak with about the inequities of what we do and recruit. This existence is lonely but I have grown accustomed to it since I was a child. I was an only child but my father had a son prior to me who hated me due to being brought into this world. I entered this world alone and I fear, I may leave it this way.