Death Does Not Become Me....

I swear dealing with this "Mistress" puts such a strain on my patience. We met several days ago at the Cafe in Paris, where she admitted that she was losing grip on her "Asmodeus." Zillah's blood lust is very real, even in his demon form, and it doesn't look like Leatrix knows how to handle it. I couldn't help but laugh at her, much to her confusion, which only led me to explain that her demon isn't who she thinks he is. She didn't believe me when I told her that he's my fiance, the father of two children, and has an actual soul-filled life. At the mention of children, she seemed to cave. I would, too, if I knew that I was breaking up a family. Old man Rowane joined us and helped my cause, throwing in the idea that if we obtained Zillah's soul, then he could choose which path he wants. It didn't look like Leatrix wanted to give him the opportunity to "choose" and was disheartened when I stressed that she meet me in t

After receiving an official invitation from "Mistress" Leatrix von Dietrich, I wandered around London, asked some locals for directions, and then tentatively knocked on her door. I really didn't know what I was getting myself into. What if he was there? How much did she know about me, really? A servant girl answered the door and led me in to an overly posh place. The "Mistress" had a sincere look of happiness when I arrived, and I could tell she restrained herself from hugging me. It was ok at first.. she complained about high society and her duties tending to them. I never really cared much for people who dressed like peacocks, so I was blatant in my questions about why she even bothered to associate with those types. Then she starts blathering about this demon that she summoned, and fortunately he wasn't there. I played dumb to this knowledge, and she just spilled out everything. About how her dear Asmodeus is so loyal and would do anything for her.

Dearest Zillah - I can't send you this letter, but I write it in hopes of setting my soul at ease. You wouldn't know what that's like, would you? Setting your soul at ease... If you had your soul, we wouldn't be in this tricky situation; we'd be in a tub somewhere soaking in suds, smoking cigarettes, and making fun of people. I strongly considered sending this to your new Mistress' address. I heard she lives in London, and she seems genuinely nice. Probably not the type you would associate with freely if you were yourself, but she wants to meet with me socially. "Have some tea", she says. Perhaps she already knows my link to you. Perhaps you've already told her. Your loyalty no longer lays with me... You sacrificed everything for me, and now it feels like you're really gone. I'm nervous seeing her again... what if you are there? Will she see your value and not let you go? How deep are you ensnared in this? Do I even have a chanc

After another bout of him claiming I was stalking him (maybe?), he didn't believe my words, so I gave him the one thing that might stir the real Zillah inside his demon body; the black diamond engagement ring that he had insisted I take when he proposed marriage. It's strange how we have connections to objects. The blood and tears that went into the story of this ring make it my most prized possession. It was a promise that he wanted to be mine, that he truly did care, but with the recent changes of his loyalties, this promise was lost in the whirlwind of possession, Hell, and summons by another. Last night I was considering my options, spraypainting my favorite propaganda in the alley by the Warehouse. I thought that by giving the ring back to him, he'd either disappear completely, or it would stir the curiosity in him. He snuck up on me, just as I was finishing my green, splattered words. Apparently, "Where has the Revenant gone?" didn't stir any memori

I feel as if my chest is going to cave in, just collapse into itself. Perhaps I'll be pulled into a self-made vortex that will bring me out of this place, maybe to Sea-at-tel. Maybe not. When I see my lover, his face completely devoid of any recognition of our past, I just want to do one of the following things: -Slap the fuck out of him. Maybe he'll snap out of it. -Kill the new Mistress. -Rally Lex to do something about their missing leader. -Punch all of his friends for not doing anything. -Hurl myself at him, screw his brains out, and maybe he'll remember. I thought each one of those through, seeing as how I've had alot of time alone to think about them. Being depressed and mopey isn't going to get my Zillahface back. Being proactive will. Slapping the fuck out of him? That would just piss him off. He's under the spell of some Mistress, so who's to say he wouldn't just dispose of me. It wouldn't be the first time he's tried to kill me.

It's been so difficult without him. The last time I saw him at the Gates of Hell, he wasn't even himself and the seriousness of the situation fell upon my shoulders like a brick. I can't find anyone... no one who will help. It's as if no one cares. No one cares that my Zillah is without a soul and trapped in Hell. After everything he did for our friends, they aren't there when he needs them the most. So I'm going to fix this myself. I have to. There's no other way. Yesterday was a strange turn of events when I saw him in London. I was surprised to see him, but not really surprised when he barely glanced at me. Not even a glint of recognition in his limey and purpley eyes. It took all I had not to hurl myself at him, so I composed myself, tried to look nonchalant, and sat by the fountain column. I pulled this little trick to capture his attention my sisters and I used to play when we were younger. The engagement ring he gave me still sits close to my