You stand on the bank of the river, casually watching the corpse floating downstream. The sight should inspire some emotion in you, but you are not surprised to find that it does not. At least the significant part of your mind that represents your rage is satisfied. For now. You take a moment to summarise the events that led up to this moment.

You hit rock bottom, sold your soul to a crazy psycho who relished your pain and suffering. She inflicted so much pain upon your very soul that your mind broke. But instead of turning into a vegetable, a mindless husk of a man, you obtained a sudden clarity instead. You were able to use that clarity to overcome the pain inflicted upon you, so much that your captor grew bored.

So bored, that she instead gave you a job. Sending you back to the mortal world she demanded you bring her a hundred more souls for her to torment. And gather them you would. But not just for her. As fate had given you a chance for something bigger and better than a demon's tortured errand boy, little more than an angry dog on a leash.

For your apparent achievement as one of the most pathetic and worthless individuals on the planet you have inherited the Diary of the Usurper. This demonic blade was created by the Demon Lord Kairos and granted to you in the hope that you could use its power to ascend to a position where you might challenge him. And ascend you will, if only to wrench yourself from your leash and turn your fangs upon your tormentor.

But before you do any of that there are a bunch of things you'll need to do. First and foremost, exactly how does this Diary work, other than being Hella sharp and forcing you to crave symbols into your own skin?

You take stock of your current situation. It's been who knows how many years since you've been alive, you have no idea how things will have changed inside the city you grew up in. You have nothing on you other than your wet, tattered clothes and the Diary. Your arm is still fractured and aching. You are going to need food, shelter, rest, money, information and likely a bunch of other things you are too tired to think of right now. You can't even trust your own mind, fractured as it is by that woman's vile torture. The question is, what the hell do you do first?

You climb up the riverbank away from the water and the evidence of your first crime. A cursory look at the sky would indicate that it was early morning, the first traces of the sun were just starting to peek up on the horizon. This should be good, not that many people should be around to pay much attention to you.

Hoping that your clothes will dry off as you go you head into town. Shelter, you decide, should come first, everything else could wait. You remember that there was a homeless shelter a half a mile south of where you are currently. Unlikely that it is still there but worth a look.

As you head down the street you can't help but look around. Everything looks different. The buildings, the roads, the cars, even the people. You'd stand out with your choice of clothing alone. So many of them are carrying small electrical devices you don't recognise. Others walk wearing headphones on, but you don't see any radios so they must have gotten much smaller since your time. It is all rather overwhelming.

The only bizare comfort you find as you make your way are the looks that the people are giving you. That bizare mixture of sympathy and disgust. It's like they know they are supposed to feel bad for you but can't quite bring themselves to do it. The part of you that is full of rage just wants you to start lashing out at them all but you restrain yourself. You shouldn't cause a scene in public, no matter how early it is. They'll pay eventually...

You are unsurprised when you arrive at the spot you remember the shelter being to find it's long been replaced by an old warehouse. A quick look indicates that the place has been abandoned for a while and as you make your way around the building off of the main road and into an equally abandoned car park you spot a broken window at ground level that allows you entry into the building. It isn't as cosy as you would like, but it would at least allow you to dry off and collect yourself for a moment.

Day 1 - Morning

A quick look around the warehouse reveals little of interest. A tarp and some sandbags make a rough but adequate bed, allowing you a few hours rest while you hang your clothes up to dry. At least now you don't look like a drowned rat. A more careful look reveals that someone has piled some boxes up against a wall to resemble a makeshift staircase. Why anyone would do that you aren't sure but the top of the staircase is located by a window so it may be that whoever it was wanted to keep an eye on something from here. Whether or not that information is of any relevence to you is uncertain. And you aren't sure if it is worth waiting around for whoever it was to come back, if indeed they ever will.

Unsatisfied with your current accomodation you head out again looking for something better. You'd ideally like something semi-permanent at least. On your way down the street you scan the crowds that have started to form looking for a suitable target.

You step out in front of a middle aged man in a suit, looking like he was in a hurry. Thrusting out your hand you feel for your power.

'Any spare change? Please?' As you ask you plant the suggestion in his mind:

'Just give him something.' The man barely glances at you before distractedly pushing a hand into his pocket and thrusting a note at you before pushing past you roughly. You allow him to pass, a quick glance reveals a full 20. Not bad.

You continue down the street, finding what appears to be a less well off residential area. Something out of the way would be ideal to lay low while getting the lay of the land. After a few hours meandering along the streets looking for a suitable location you spot what could be just the place.

A single building in surprisingly good condition considering the surroundings, separated from the rest of the neighbourhood by a small wall and a gate requiring a code. The wall is short enough that it's easy enough to get over. Now you just need to work out which of the eight flats you should occupy. They have their own private car park and currently five cars are present. Meaning someone is likely still home. No sign of anyone at the moment though

There isn't all that much cover to be had in the area so you take a quick look at the parked cars trying to decide which would be least likely to move. Without any other information you crouch down and roll under the car that provides the best view of both the gate and the front of the building. And you wait. And wait. You more than likely missed rush hour. Anyone who had places to be had likely left earlier in the day. Meaning you'd need to wait for them to come back before you came across anyone.

But just as you're starting to feel as though you are wasting your time the door to one of the ground floor flats opens and a grumpy looking man emerged, heading into the parking lot. He's not paying attention to where he is going or what he is doing, pulling a cigarette out of his jecket pocket and lighting it. It takes you a moment to realise he's making a beeline for the car you happen to be hiding under.

Shit! What are the chances? You feel the unfamiliar prick of fear for the first time in a long while. Even if he doesn't see you as he's getting into the car he'll probaby spot you in his mirrors as he's driving away. Assuming he doesn't accidently run you over as he's manouvering his vehicle into position. You'll need to think fast.

You move as quickly as you can, pushing yourself out from under the car on the otherside to keep yourself out of his view. Then you duck down and circle round the vehicle to approach him. As he makes to open his car down you draw up alongside him and plant your Suggestion into his head:

'Ignore me,' the man's eyes meet yours for a fraction of a second before he blinks and turns away from you again, his attention back to his car. Seeing and opportunity you plunge your hand into the pocket of his jeans and pull out his wallet. He doesn't even react as you step away with the pilfered item in your grubby clutches. Then he gets into his car and begins to drive away, you scuttling quickly out of the path of the car to avoid him running you over in his ignorance.

Well that wasn't exactly what you had planned but you had managed to turn disaster into success with the use of your abilities. You can only imagine how much better things could get once your powers improve. But first you have a stray wallet to loot.

Your excitement is short lived, however, as a quick rummage in his wallet reveals only a couple of 20s and a bunch of cards that you won't have any use for as they are. You skim through his receipts, you don't recognise most of the brands or foods on them. Then again the prices and numbers would suggest to you that the man lives alone.

A photograph of the same gentleman standing on a boat with a large fish on a line all but confirms it. Unless the man cares more about fishing than he does about his family he isn't married and doesn't have children. At least none that live with him. Which would hopefully indicate that his flat at least is empty right now. But you weren't able to nab his keys along with his wallet so you'd need a different way of entering if you chose to do so.

Making a mental note of your discoveries regarding the occupant of Flat One you hatch a simple plan. You still have that man's wallet. You could use it as an excuse to ring the doorbells of the various flats and claim you found it lying on the ground outside. Pretend to be do something nice for someone else, the idea gives you a little bit of sick joy. Your stomach rumbles it's disagreement, reminding you that you haven't eaten in a while.

Deciding it would be easier to explain yourself if you were outside you scale the wall again and apprach the gate. A panel on the wall has eight buttons with the various flat numbers and what you assume is some sort of communication device to the side. At some point you would need to take some time to familiarise yourself with all this new fancy technology around. But for now, ignoring the first flat you try each one in turn

Fifteen minutes later you have more knowledge of the place, if nothing else. A small child answered from Flat 4 and you had been unable to convince him to pass the phone over to someone who could understand you, an elderly sounding man had answered from Flat 5 and had yelled at you that he had already cancelled his subscription in June, not that you know what the month is right now. And a tired sounding woman from Flat 7 advised you, with the sound of a screaming baby in the background that neither she nor her partner had lost their wallets and so you should try someone else. None of the other flats answered. No major breakthrough but a little more information never hurt.

You head back the way you came to find the closest shop and pick up a few bits and pieces for a late lunch. Almost immediately you find the large selection of products you've never seen before to be somewhat unsettling. Eventually you settle on a sandwich, a small fruit salad in some plastic packaging and a packet of crisps with a small cartoon devil on the front. It just seemed appropriate.

What isn't appropriate, however, is the weedy little dipshit who was suppoed to be serving you. Alternating between checking his phone and flirting with his co-worker who is way out of his league, he barely gives you a second glance for a good five minutes, forcing you to clear your throat to get his attention. At which point the scrawny little shit gives you one of the dirtiest looks you've seen in a while. He doesn't want to take your note, acting as though it is going to bite him and tries to persuade you to give him something smaller, which you don't have.

After you finally persuade him that you don't have anything smaller and he just needs to take your 20 he rings it up and returns to his conversation without giving you your change! It takes all of your concentration not to reach over and snap his scrawny, twig like neck! It is a good thing you don't have any mana right now or you would have given him a Suggestion to go fuck himself, just to see what would happen! Giving yourself a mental reminder to come back here when you do have your abilities back you leave with your food, muttering darkly under your breath about all the things you could do to the shit once you were all powerful!

Still angry about your run in with the worst shop clerk you would likely ever meet you look around to try and find a bench to sit down and eat it. After a half hour of fruitless searching you find what could be your first real break after returning to this world.

A public park, a peacful relaxing location for quiet enjoyment and simple leisure. You immediately hate the place, it's full of couples and families having picnics or frolicking on the grass. There's so much love and enjoyment soaking the atmosphere right now you'd actually lose malice if you came here with any in reserve!

Fortunately, you are completely out right now and so it doesn't effect you beyond making you want to throw up and putting you off your food. But that was always how couples and familes had made you feel, your new partially demonic nature hadn't changed that.

But that was only during the day, when the place was busy. At night this place would be completely different. Visibility would be significantly impaired, the crowds would diminish to the point of vanishing and there would be any number of places to hide. In otherwords it could well be the perfect hunting ground. Young couples looking for a quick secluded roll in the bushes, early morning joggers, dog walkers. There could be any number of opportunities to catch someone here off guard and alone.

You wouldn't even necessarily need to kill anyone, though so long as you had a shovel and enough time you could probably hide a corpse in here. There were any number of ways you could farm malice here, or even find some tasty young thing to manipulate. But those are all schemes future you could potentially act out. Current you is right now sitting on a bench eating his lunch and trying to keep it down while trying to ignore all of the surrounding joy. Fuck normies and their happy normal lives!

Then you suddenly feel a tingle running through your body, a small refreshing feeling coupled with a sudden sense of satisfaction. It is the first time you've experienced this so it takes a moment before you realise what has happend. Malice! Apparently that idiot finally realised his wallet is missing! You quickly hurry out of the park before the happy go lucky attitude costs you your recent ill-gotten gains!

With a fairly disapointing first day starting to wrap up you continue exploring the town for useful locations worth noting.

You scrunch up your nose at the thought of more random exploring. This town was far larger than you remember it and continuing to drift aimlessly down the streets has so far proven to be unrewarding. It cannot really be helped, you are new to this whole spreading mayhem and gathering souls business so it would make sense that you would struggle to begin with. And you are fairly certain you're brain is still operating on 'energy saving mode.'

Perhaps then it is time for a change of strategy. Instead of relying on your own limited brian power, maybe it would be better to tap into someone else's. Considering your present situation it seemed to make sense to throw your lot in with the current homeless population, if only at first. Then you could use them as a spring board to launch youreself into something better. And who would be better to target than people who aren't going to be missed anyway?

Get some information, pick a few filthy bums off in places where they won't be found quickly, it's a win-win! And in a way you'd be doing the city a service by helping to clear the place up a bit. Now you just need to find someone and persuade them to be of assistance. Shouldn't be difficult for someone of your talents.

Your exploration continues, but this time you aren't looking for any place in particular, you are scanning the people instead. This is decidedly less pleasant than looking at buildings. Everyone around you just feels so unbearably content! Not even happy, they just possess a ingrained sense of satisfaction with the way their lives are proceeding that radiates off of them! They likely do not even notice it themselves, so wrapped up will they be in their own petty concerns. It makes a mockery of all that you went through those unknown years!

You restrain the urge to chew your bottom lip and strive to fight off these feelings. As much as you'd like to see the entire city burn that would be counterproductive and very difficult to pull off successfully. Instead you focus on your objective. It doesn't take too long to find what you want, you just need to look in a different way. Most everyone else is deliberately trying not to see these people after all.

A man with a sleeping bag is lying to the side of the street, in front of a now out of business shop. A sad looking dog lies next to him overlooking an upturned hat. A few coins are inside but nothing like the money you've managed to make so far. Still, the man doesn't seem to be doing too badly. What little of him you can see above the sleeping bag seems to be hairy and filthy but his dog is in surprisingly good condition considering its owner's situation. How promising. It will be worth speaking to him at the very least.

You engage the man in conversation, presenting yourself as someone who has recently been evicted from his flat and doesn't have anywhere else to go. The man seems at first to be uninterested in aiding you, eventually waving in a general direction and suggesting there is a popular gathering point they all use in that direction. It's good to know there is somewhere you can go, but it would be far easier if this lazy sod would just show you where to go.

Figuring your money isn't as valuable as your magic you pull out the change you received after buying your lunch and drop it into the man's hat, easily trebling it's total value, if not more.

'How about now?' You ask him. He regards you for a moment, then relents and climbs to his feet. Hastily pocketing the money and retrieving his belongings he leads the way for you. You try to pay attention to the route as he guides you through the streets though you aren't confident you'd be able to get back if you went off on your own. Maybe hiring someone to act as a guide until you got the hang of things would be a good idea.

After a little under an hour of tedious walking and uncomfortable silence you are lead to a large clearing between a car park and a large block of flats. The block of flats is one of many, buildings so large you have to strain your neck to look at them. Were there so many huge buildings in your time? You cannot say. The clearing is apparently a discontinued construction site that has been made up into a makeshift homeless shelter by the local samaritans.

You remember the organisation, vaguely. They had been small and not well known in your time. But you did know that they had ties to the Church and that makes you uncomfortable. But regardless of the nature of the backing behind it, the shelter itself seems well organised if minimum in it's construction. Mostly open space with rows of tents and larger areas with sleeping bags and tarps stretched out across metal poles sticking in the ground to act as protection from the rain. There is even a food distribution centre, though it reeks of goodwill and piety. After explaining some basic ground rules and the people you need to speak to your guide wonders off, assumedly to get some food.

You mentally hold your nose and follow your impromptu guide to the food bank. Getting in line you grab an empty bowl and wait with the others. After a little while a disgustingly cheery woman wearing an apron ladles a generous portion of broth into your bowl while prompting you to take a slice of bread at the same time. Doing so and thanking the woman you take a moment to ask her for more information about the backing behind this shelter.

She doesn't have much time to talk, distracted as she is by the distribution but she does explain that the local samaritans have joined forces with one of the new religious branches that has sprung up over the last few years, The Sisters of Salvation. Apparently this group has been supporting and arranging a number of charitable events over the past months, preaching that the salvation of man can only be found through self sacrifice and cooperation.

To you they sound like a group of naive bleeding hearts just waiting to be taken advantage of. But if this group really is brimming with so much good intentions their very presence would likely be toxic to someone of your nature. They should be avoided at all costs, or eradicated before your soul became too corrupt for you to be able to stomach them.

A glance at the sky indicates that it is now well into evening. You'll need to decide whether you intend to stay here overnight and if so, whether you want to risk a trip out for some misdeeds or simply spend what's left of the day familiarising yourself better with the shelter. Another rush of power tells you that the man you stole from earlier in the day has realised that his wallet is well and truly gone now.

You'd spent the day searching yourself and didn't have much to show for it. The reason you came here wasn't just for a bit of hot food and a safe place to sleep, but to find someone who could make it easier for you. You shouldn't need too much help, just enough information to give you a few good locations to roam. A few more souls under your belt and a bit more malice and you should be ready for something a little more ambitious. Or at least you hope. The Diary wasn't entirely clear on exactly how much suffering you would need to cause to get everything you want.

Doubts aside, information is the priority right now and so you go in search of a man named 'Dirty Hary.' Apparently the name is a reference to a film starring that one guy you saw in a western one time. Looks like he got pretty famous in the time you've been away. You've forgotten the name of the film but it was certainly entertaining. Something about fisting, you think, or maybe that was the porno you watched the next day...

Considering the name you had expected the man in question to be much filthier than he turns out to be. He's also a significant degree more miserable than the other individuals you have encountered so far in this shelter. Perfect!

'You're new,' he greets you, somewhat unecessarily. You would have thought that was obvious. You open your mouth to give him a half baked story about yout sudden misfortune but he raises a hand to stop you.

'No need for that,' he grunts, 'we've all got our own stories. Don't really matter now. So long as you don't step on anyone's toes there shouldn't be any problems. The law ain't entirely on board with our operations but so long as we keep out of the more important areas and don't cause a fuss they leave us be. If you're looking to stay here for a while we'll be taking a third of your earnings, and no trying to hide your cash on you when you get back. We've got a guy here who really enjoys searching all those sorts of places, you understand?' You've got a fairly good idea what he's talking about.

He continues to give you a brief outline of the various areas they had found the best success in. Perhaps more importantly he gives you more information about which areas to avoid. These include a location up north of here that is frequented by an aggressive biker gang, a residential area in the north west home to a particularly nasty family who raise dogs and enjoy sicking them on so called 'trespassers' and a series of back alleys behind a pub which is a well known location for drug dealers. Why anyone would try begging for money from a bunch of coked out fuck heads you have no idea but you assume the warning wasn't so much about asking for money but about trying to spend the money you've earnt.

Having obtained the information you came here for you have one last decison to make before you turn in for the night. Hary offers you one of two things, a 'guide' to help you find the best spots around the local area or a dog to help smooth the process along. Your suspicions about the man from before are clarified, it turns out that the homeless here rent or borrow dogs from a local business to help generate sympathy among the public. A dirty smelly man lying in the street can be easily ignored but a sad little doggie not so much. Apparently. Very crafty.

You aren't sure if you are going to be doing all that much more begging when you are confident just stealing people's wallets will get you more cash, as well as netting you some sweet Malice in the process. But what you do with your hiree once you have them away from prying eyes is your own business. You'll just have to remember that you won't be able to return here without them or risk awkward questions and/or a visit from a man who is all too keen to explore your darkest 'secrets'.

As tempting as it might be to hire a guide and have them lead you somewhere isolated where they'd be at your mercy, it would likely be a short sighted plan that would certainly void any sort of trust you could earn here. You won't be lacking for good targets so burning your only bridge while you are still standing on it is probably not the best of ideas.

And as much as it might be a cool idea to have a dog following you around the beast would likely end up as more of a nuisance then it would be a help. Not to mention all the positive feelings they generate. Yuck! When you are in charge of this city you'll enforce a law against cute things!

So in the end you turn down both and simply retire to your tent to get some sleep. You aren't entirely sure what your plans are for tomorrow but at least you have more options.

You are just starting to feel yourself drift away at the end of a not so satisfying day when you feel the tug. It's like a giant hand closes on your body yanking you into the air as your vision blurs and swims. Flying and spinning and falling all at the same time. Your stomach lurches. You recognise this sensation! Seriously? Already? WHAT THE HELL?

Just as abruptly you find yourself deposited roughly on a cold stone floor, the sickly peaceful atmosphere of the mortal world is gone, leaving something far more oppressive in its place. Your newly developing nature would usually celebrate at this change but instead your very soul is already trembling. There could only be one reason you were here again. Her!

You don't even want to move from your current position, sprawled on the floor. Even the rage inside you doesn't dare show itself here. Should you take a look? She wouldn't begrudge you this once, right?

And there she is. In her fucking chair, just watching you! Shit! She doesn't seem too pissed that you stole a glance, but you won't dare try another just yet. The moment lasts much longer than you feel it should, but that might just be your brain scrambling for something, anything. They do say that your thoughts speed up...

'Well?' the single word rips through you like an actual blade, cutting your thoughts off in their tracks. You are having difficulty processing so you simply splutter out the first syllable you can:

'Huh?' you manage. Fuck! You are so toast! You'll be lucky if she just puts you back on the hook for the rest of eternity!

'What do you mean, 'huh?'' she barks, 'where are they?' You look up at her now. She can't seriously mean what you think she means, can she?

'The souls, you brain dead insect!' she hisses, every breath promising unending agony, 'I sent you out to collect souls for me, so where are they?'

Your brain gurgles with the pressure. All sorts of nonsense runs through your head, various excuses, each one more ridiculous than the last. As she stares you down with a venomous stare that could melt concrete you manage to wrest control over your turbulent emotions. You search for, and find, that carefully cultivated clarity you had developed for so long.

'I'm sorry,' you manage to say, 'it's only been one day. I can't kill my way through a hundred people in a handful of hours with only my hands. Just killing the first guy almost broke my arm, and then I had no idea how to actually collect the soul afterwards!'

You are lying, of course. You have the Diary, which is also a dagger. You may well have been able to have slaughtered a large number of people with it if you had gone full horror slasher and managed to evade the police afterwards. But she doesn't know you have the dagger and she musn't ever know that you do. If she does find out who knows how she'll react!

For a long moment you watch her livid expression, wanting to know if she is going to have you eviserated on the spot. Then to your great surprise, she relaxes.

'I know that,' she spits, 'don't think for a moment that I didn't! I'm The Torturer, afterall!' It sounds more as though she's trying to convince herself rather than you, but there's no way you're saying that to her.

'This right now,' she continues, 'was just me reminding you not to get comfortable! You work for me and I won't allow you to forget it! I'm your Mistress, your Lord, your Goddess! A simple crick of my finger will have you kneeling before me just like this! You cannot escape me so don't think for a moment that you can!

'As for the souls, I can afford to wait for them, for a little while. Five days! If you haven't gathered a decent number of souls in five days I'll have to find a way to motivate you! I'm sure you'd love to spend another century in my private chambers! Now get lost! And don't look at me with those disgusting eyes of yours!' She waves a hand in dismissal and you are gone, just like that...