I'm tired of searching. All these soulless, mindless, insignificant creatures wander the city streets like it means something to be alive. I haven't been alive in over a hundred years, and I seem to be getting along just fine.

I laugh to myself knowing most of these people think I don't exist. In their newspapers they speak of a specter massacring entire crowds. A woman, or sometimes a man if I feel like being funny, who can literally fade into the night after claiming the soulless husks of the people under the thumb of Allied Industries. I thought that this Ashling character would surely be the one to end this. Her trail died cold a while back. After the battle with the wolf girl, some leads came along, but ultimately nothing came of them. I wonder how the pup is doing? Last time I saw her she was in shreds bleeding liquid mercury. Another laugh in my head at the thought of the pup's veins bursting on the ground from the disease I gave her. Surely by now she was dead; the effects of my attack only gave her three days before her skin would flake off and her blood would boil. I really don't know why I enjoy a torturous death in my victims. Perhaps it's because I know what it's like to be tortured.

I grow tired of waiting. As I walk the streets in my overcoat and heels, I watch the sun set. The lights flicker in the distance of the local pub and a man stands outside smoking. I wait until the only light is in the street lamp above him. As I step close, letting my heels click a bit on the cobbled stones. He turns, but I'm already gone. The breeze carries me as I become one with his cigarette smoke. He seems nervous. I feel his heart beat faster as he inhales me. As his fear grows, so does my hunger. As he blows another ring, I let my appearance show. My face grins back at him through the smoke, and I whisper, "Boo."

The man screams. It's a lovely sound, and one not heard often enough. Every man should scream like a little whore once in a while, just so he can feel what it's really like. Sometimes I forget what it's like to be human and feel fear. To have a heart that stops... Perhaps that's why I enjoy torturing my victims. To remember what it's like to feel again.

"Tell the world its specter has a death wish..." I whisper in his ear. "And she seeks one who can rid her of this curse."

He stands there like an idiot as I fade back into the shadows. I give him one last parting instruction. "Tell them I seek to death... and if I do not receive it... They will all die."

"H...How... How will they find you?" He stutters, blubbering like an idiot.

"Follow the bodies."