This night is a night few will remember, nevertheless it is a crucial evening. Tonight I die. No longer do the thumps of passion save me. No longer will the taste of grand foods sustain me. Money, money is useless now. All my years I collected and hoarded it, uselessly for this moment. For what? To barter with Death herself? No.
What are the words? 'Once upon a midnight dreary,' what a phrase. How true it rings now. By all circumstances this is a perfect night to die. There is a soft chill wind at my window. Out into that dark void there is no happenstance of thunder and lightning, only snow, only stars, isn't that odd.
This house, this grandiose place is filled with too many memories, a ghost of a ghost. Long ago my name was Daniel Walter, …Read more >