IV.

The prisoner, Sirius, is becoming our favorite. Only rarely before in our tenure here in this domain have we taken consideration for the well-being of any of our charges. Never before have we begged any prisoner to do our will. It is a new thing. And never before has a prisoner refused to obey, despite our compulsions, despite even our begging. This too is a new thing.

There is a shortage of new things here in on our island. We are fascinated by this prisoner. We thrive on him.

And we have begun to suspect that he thrives on us as well. On opposing us all. He has started to eat once more; he now sleeps from time to time, we are now convinced that he will live.

This is much to be desired. He is becoming our most prized possession.

His dreams yield rich, sumptuous servings of the most opulent hurts, the most lavish anguish, the most splendid fears. The details are dark to us, as always, but the bright vividness of the passions - dainty dishes, all.

His waking hours yield the most seductive opposition, the most alluring aggression, the most enticing anger. The purest hatred. One feast after another. We cannot stay away.

Ah. Sirius. Our favorite.