Mr. Ben Stokes has made his prodigal return. Amid the quest for my cane, I have continued to increase the unfortunate circumstances surrounding Rev. Trask. A phantom hand. A signature ring. A voice heard only to him. He’s sincere in his fight against the devil, and it was a pleasure to laugh at his invocation of faith and Providence. He’s now mad as a March hare in the eyes of The Eel, as well. He’s in a bit of a panic, and I must say it’s the first time I’ve had fun in quite some time.
Searched for the cane. I think the noise may have upset other guests, but I dropped the body off in Trask’s quarters. There is nothing like a strangled prostitute left in the bedroom of your ordained enemy to ensure that he will experience vague uneasiness.
Carried her there as a bat. That was not easy.
BC
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