Diary Entry

> you open the book and turn to the designated page, the most recent entry
> your eyes adjust to the writing in front of you, you can't tell if it's in English or some other language, entirely possible knowing where this is from
> the green inked entry slowly becomes readable as you look into it more deeply, definitely English
> it reads:

The days drag on more and more, and I look more and more forward to sleep. I am free from these evils around me in my dreams. I am happy in my dreams. The world around me swarms with conflict. I can find no release from it, my life has become a constant battle against something. The hive cheers me on, I hear them, "Hail the queen, she has brought a golden age to the changelings!" It offers me little comfort. I just fought against a rebellion of those who killed my husband and the retribution was..satisfying. This is a deeply disturbing realization.

I can feel her there, that horrid monstrosity I thought I had removed long ago. she was but silenced. She sits, slowly eroding my morality, slowly alienating me from those who  care. "What is incest?", she coos to me in a way that fills me with dread and disgust, but at the same time is somewhat..comforting, "but another way to feed." As time passes, I grow weaker and weaker, and it becomes all the more tempting to fall to her advice. "They're just a few unloved bodies, but that necromancer will be very thankful." I have resisted her and try to stand strong, but how easy it would be to relinquish what I have made to her bidding, to lose who I am to her ways. I look at the mirror and observe myself, and I know I have not changed, yet there is something different in how I look..something fiercer, something barbaric, something....familiar.

I allow the others to remain undisturbed by my trouble. They are tired of hearing of them. They care not anymore, they lack the capacity. Instead, I allow them to become upset with me, to be angered by me. It is better they do not know, it is better they continue their lives. Do I wish evil upon myself, or upon them? The choice seems clear cut...but the decision becomes more fuzzy. Without Luna to feed from, I am doomed to starvation. I am reaching, but I fall, and the night is closing in. I stare into the void, the whirlpool of my sin. Without her I am damned. Without my husband, without moral support, I am condemned.