Due to my extreme preference towards anonymity and solitude, I employed no one, except for a mute man whom I had saved from the Fingermen long ago. Under no conditions was he ever to relay what he knows of my actions and me by written word or sign language, for he knew that he would also be undoubtedly punished. Punished by me or by the neo-Nazis that parade themselves as Fingermen, the police, and the current government. After all, did not Shakespeare pen that "would not a rose by any other name still smell as sweet" in Romeo And Juliet, his famous tragedy of the lovers?

I pushed back my chair, and stood up. At full height, standing straight and tall, I reach well over six feet tall. Although I was, always have been, and probably always will be preternaturally thin (some say as a skeleton, but with skin covering the bones) and always have been of such size, I was still a very imposing and menacing figure. Who could it have been this late at night? It was must surely at least two a.m., so how did they happen to have escaped my traps? But that was not to be my main concern, no tin the very least.

I turned down the lights, leaving me in almost complete shadow. Normal practice, it was for me, that low level of light, I myself could and can see very well in the dark. Probably this is just one of my many differences and deformities that I have been burdened with all my wretched life so far. Using a sleight-of-hand trick I learned many years ago, I unlocked the door to the study and made it open seemingly on its own. If this does not scare the unwanted visitor, I have no idea what would, I thought to myself. As they came in, I could sense a palpable sort of fear, perhaps nervousness, upon their manner. Hmm… A young woman was standing in the doorway, unsure of how to proceed, I figured. She was dirty and rough, as if she had run or come a long ways without stopping for rest, nourishment, or a good bathing. But why? Why would a young Mademoiselle do such a thing? I knew for a fact, although I myself had never had the opportunity or need to use them, that there were still some inns and hotels in the surrounding area. Most of these were used primarily for officials of the "Party" that were mainly high-ranking, and some were even illegally operating, but I believe there were some that were cheap, did not ask questions, and were open to the public. Perhaps she was on the lam? What could this innocent looking Mademoiselle possibly have done to have the state and secret police after her, for I was sure that was the reason she was in such a state? How did she find me? Surely she must be tired, having run all this way, I thought to myself. I lifted my head, or rather shifted my noggin so that the lady could see my eerily yellow, glowing, fey eyes.

"Come in, mademoiselle," I invited in a tone to calm her and dissipate the nervousness I had felt.

"Thank you, sir," the lady stuttered as she spoke. Although she had stuttered and sputtered over these normally easy words (well, for some people, at least), I could tell she had previously recited them over and over again. Could she have been practicing them?

"Whatever is wrong, mademoiselle? Are you afraid of me?" I questioned the young lady.

"Cold. And scared… But not of you, sir. Of who is coming…"

"What of, ma petite? Tell me, are you truly scared of me, or of what could happen to you if you betray my secrets?" She nodded. "Oh, you surely must be kidding! Women should have no fear of moi," I replied with a dramatic theatrical gesture. "I could never stoop bring myself to harm a human of the fairer sex, I can guarantee you. It is dreadfully hard to murder someone when all your instincts push you to remove one's gloves and be polite to them first! Now who has sent you, my bonne homme?"

"I have a treat for you."

"From whom?"

"Why does it matter? He said that he knew you were lonely, and that I should try to cheer you up in any way I can. Now I'm pretty sure you've never had a woman before, have you? Just one night and I'll leave," the words rush out of her mouth. Hmm… Who would even dare to bribe me with, of all things, a creature of the fairer sex?

"Are you sure you want to do this, ma petite? For once you have seen Erik's face or laid with him, one can never leave again," I warned. A worried look crossed her face. It was obvious that she was not here simply to pleasure me in my bed. And why should she have to? No woman could ever look upon my face and live, much less love me and become my living bride…