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(Found by Sherri L. Smith)

This is my personal Journal; the one that I'm required to keep as a member of the Legacy remains in my room at the Legacy House. Within this Journal are my private thoughts and feelings -- unlike the other one in which I detail the facts of the cases we encounter with only a little of my personal perceptions. This Journal is for me. My own personal record of my struggle against evil. T

Should another member of the Legacy find this Journal someday -- and no doubt they will -- don't misunderstand me. Don't think that I've shirked my duties to the Legacy. I do write and detail my perceptions and the events of every case in the required Journal. However, as time goes on, I find that I need more of a release than what I have written in there. Therefore, I "confiscated" (for lack of a better, more accurate word) another leather-bound book and have begun this Journal.

I need this Journal ... something to contain my greatest fears, my darkest thoughts -- something I can be totally honest with. Yes, I've got my friends -- associates -- and my family to talk to, but quite often people show the face they wish others to see and not the one that is. Here, I can show the one that is without fear of repercussions. I'm locked in an internal struggle and I'm not sure I'll survive!

Obviously, I'm troubled or I wouldn't have felt the need for a "personal" Journal. But I don't mean "trouble" in the "insane" or "disturbed" sense of the word -- although God knows any of us in the Legacy have a right to be -- I mean it in the sense that I don't like what's happening to me; the longer I remain a member of the Legacy ... the deeper my involvement goes. Then again, quitting is not an option for me; it never has been and can never be.

Skimming over what's been written so far I realize I'm rambling. It's just so hard to stay focused on what I took this book for -- which was to record what I'm afraid is happening to me. It all wants to come spilling out in a rush and I just can't write that fast. So, I'll begin as best I can with the facts -- just like with the other, legitimate Journal.

I became a member of the Legacy because I had to be; somewhere inside me, I knew I had to be! Whether it was because I was striving for perfection, following in my families footsteps, feeling the internal need to fight for righteousness, whatever -- whatever -- drew me to the Legacy, I know that I belong here. Ultimately, it was I who chose it years ago and, although like most members of any of the Houses, I've come to regret that decision a million times over, I would make the same one today if I had to.

But being a part of the Legacy changes people. I see it in the others that I work with everyday. I see their personal struggles, their family pressures and problems, how the Legacy seeps into their own "alone" time, and I know that we are all wrestling with the same or similar "demons" -- to use a cliché. I wonder if the others think it's worth the price we all must pay?

The "others" I'm referring to are the members of the Legacy House I belong to. I consider the members of my House to be my family; closer than my own personal family, to be honest. And, sometimes, that in itself can be a problem. But, again, I'm getting ahead of myself. This might be where I want to end up, but it's going to be a jumbled mess if I keep flipping between what is now and what was; between who I fear I am now and who I had wanted to be.

So, the bottom line is, any Hell I go through, I choose to go through -- and, until my death, will continue to go through -- as a member of Legacy. But my family -- those closest to me -- did not make the same choice I did; they merely have to live with it. How ironic to follow your gifts, talents and heart on the path of righteousness and end up in a living Hell!

All of the members of our House have family -- and I've seen the others put their family members last, be cross or curt with them, or be extremely neglectful of their needs. But, when I see these traits in myself, I find it repulsive and very disturbing. It shakes me to the core of who I am; therefore, this Journal was born.

Am I making sense? I read what I've written and I sound mad -- completely out of my mind without a complete thought in my head -- and yet, I am struggling to keep this Journal accurate and explain the reasons for it, for I know somehow -- maybe by "Second Sight" -- that it will be found and read someday. Perhaps my personal struggle will save anothers soul?! I want to be understood. The Legacy is my life, it was my salvation and purpose in life, and it will be my undoing. I know that now more than ever!

But, this point must be made clear ... to leave the Legacy is unthinkable. Let me repeat that -- to leave the Legacy is unthinkable. I know that I'll die here ... perhaps (hopefully?) it will be soon before I become even more dangerous than I "think" I am. I am a member ultimately because I believe in the Legacy and all it stands for. Did I say that before? I believe that what we do as an Organization is right and I must be involved in things that are right. I've always been a perfectionist and, working here, perfection is the only option that counts.

However, with each new case -- each endeavor -- I find myself losing myself. Not to fear ... never to fear -- how could you even think that? But I am losing that "righteous" person I'd wanted to be. With every brush with evil, I've felt myself changing for so long now ... God help me!

I'm better now. I had to take a quick nip of brandy -- just to steady my nerves. As I said earlier, everything wants to come spilling out all at once and taking a deep breath and a strong drink has helped steady my nerves and focus my thoughts. And wait just one minute! Don't be thinking -- 'Oh, now I see what the problem really is ... it's alcohol' -- because that's not it at all! The problem is evil -- pure and simple ... EVIL!

Yes, I do drink. I don't know a member of the Legacy (past or present) who doesn't from time to time. But, to excess ... NO! In fact, before I'd actually joined the Legacy, the most I ever use to drink was a little wine at dinner and an occasional beer with friends from school, etc. So, no drinking isn't the problem and I don't want to talk about this anymore.

But, now that I think about it. The first time I had ever had brandy was right after a mission I was sent on. I had been sent by the Precept of the House (at that time) to handle something on my own -- which was not usually the way we operated (or how we operate today for that matter!) and so I almost didn't make it out of that particular situation alive.

Needless to say, I was angry and upset when I returned after that case -- wouldn't you have been? -- and, after having some choice words with my so-called friend and mentor, I poured myself a long, tall brandy and spent the rest of the night nursing it down. So, if anyone ever does want to discuss my drinking habits, let's remember where I really acquired a taste for it, OK?!

Just remembering that time has my blood boiling. And, that wasn't the only time I was expected to handle a dangerous situation alone! Well, alright, most of the time, it was my choice. I wanted to handle it alone sometimes. But that's not the point! It seemed like the better I became at my "job", the more I was (and am!) called on. And, the more I'm called on, the more dangerous it becomes. I remember another time when I was working alone on a case .....

'I know It came in here,' I thought to myself as I headed into what I thought was an abandoned warehouse on the river docks. 'I just wish the others were here to help me with this one. Damn them for leaving me alone ... again! I can't do this job on my own.'

I heard a noise up ahead and stopped dead in my tracks just after walking in the building. It sounded like a muffled cry or groan. I had my flashlight in hand, but was afraid to turn it on. I hated being afraid. 'But, there's no need drawing attention to myself,' I thought. 'God, what am I doing here alone,' followed close on the previous thought's heels.

As I approached the muffled sound, I realized that it was coming from a young woman who looked to be in her early to mid-twenties. She was tied to a chair with a gag over her mouth. She struggled and groaned all the harder when she saw me. I could sense the danger all around and knew that I was most likely walking into a trap. But, I couldn't just leave her sitting there!

So, I quickly and quietly assured her that I was there to help and to just stay still and quiet; that I would get the ropes off her in a second and that we would be out of there in the blink of an eye. 'And,' I thought to myself, 'I have a reason for not facing this demon alone if I have to help this young lady.'

I removed her gag first and introduced myself. She softly said her name was "Maggie" and that was the last sound she made before her eyes flew open wide and she gasped over my shoulder. I had sensed the presence behind me long before seeing her expression and turned to face the demon. Well, if nothing else, I would give my life and, hopefully, Maggie's would be spared.

But, as I stared into the face of the creature from Hell (with my blood pumping loudly through my heart and in my ears), I saw It give me the most malicious grin. I never heard the sound behind me of Maggie getting out of her ropes. I never heard the creak of the chair as she lifted it to strike me at the back of my head. I only remember the demon's image fading to black as I slipped into nothingness.

When I awoke, I was in a 6'x6' cage. 'Now I know how the monkeys at the zoo feel,' I thought vaguely. As my eyes focused, I inspected my surroundings and discovered that I was still in the warehouse -- just a more dangerous part of it.

I felt in my pocket for the pocketknife I always carried with me and began to pick at the lock on the cage thinking, 'God Bless the Scouts -- Always Be Prepared! You bet!!' By His grace, I managed to slip free of my confines and decided to beat a hasty retreat from here. Clearly, one person was no match for a demon and their human minion. I would call my associates at the Legacy and we would solve this case as a team -- the way we were meant to.

But, before I could exit, I found my way blocked by Maggie. "How'd you get out of there?" she asked, clearly puzzled. "I checked the lock myself." While she was thinking this through, I reacted. I pushed her backward into a pile of crates as hard and fast as I could. I watched her as she flew through the air, hit her head and seemed to black out.

I once again headed for the doorway of the warehouse and again found it blocked -- and this time by the demon itself! The creature was at least 100-120 pounds heavier than I was and It's skin was like that of a reptile. It's eyes burned with the fires of Hell themselves and when It opened It's mouth, the teeth were razor sharp.

"You're not going anywhere," It breathed, "except straight to Hell."

Knowing that this was most likely the end for me, I felt a surge of bravado and confidence. Gripping the only things in my possession -- the flashlight in one pocket and the pocketknife in the other -- I pulled out my 'weapons' and stood to face the demon. I heard It's faint laughter at my bravado, but it didn't shake my confidence. I was fighting for the side that was 'right' ... I couldn't lose!

I reacted quickly by shining my flashlight in It's eyes, rushing forward with the knife extended and jamming it into the creature's chest area. "You first," I replied in answer to It's previous statement. Surprise overcame me as I watched the beast wither to the ground. A bright light exploded out of It and It faded from sight.

It was over. I walked out of the warehouse on shaky legs and stood at the edge of Pier 3 admiring the view of the San Francisco Bay. It has been on helluva night and I had survived -- righteousness had prevailed -- but I felt little gratification in that .....

... All I remember feeling was anger -- anger and bitterness; angry at having been alone, at having been deceived by Maggie, and at not having my associates -- my friends -- with me to share my triumph. And I felt bitter -- bitter at having my life placed in danger while my "so-called friends" were safe in their beds; at having to hurt someone when I try so hard to avoid violence; at feeling nothing but regret for being a member of the Legacy when I was trying to do the right and righteous thing!

Thinking about it now, I wonder ... are the people I "work" with -- the other members of my House -- truly my friends or are they merely "my associates"? I've treated them better than family (didn't I mention this before?). But, I've gotten to the point lately where I don't feel like I really know them. Even worse, I've gotten to the point where I don't really trust them. They're so damned secretive -- always keeping to themselves -- and I wonder what they're really up to.

God, what am I saying?! OF COURSE, they're my friends! We're all secretive because we're all fighting our own private demons. I just took another little nip of brandy; it really does help me get my thoughts under control and relax. What I guess I'm getting at is that as close as we -- the Legacy members -- are, there is still so much we don't know about one another. Would any of them ever look at me the same if they really knew who I am and what I do?! Doubtful.

But, then again, I accept them for who they are, don't I?! So, they should just accept me and be done with it. All the secrecy -- the deceptions -- they're uncalled for! The worst of the times is when I see someone close to me -- either a family member or an outside friend -- closely whispering to one of my "so-called friends" (associates!). They have no right to talk behind my back! They have no right to conspire against me!! My God, what's happening to me?!?

I had to leave for a while. Even the brandy wasn't working. Hardly anything is working anymore! So, I went for a walk and ended up in a little church I go to sometimes to pray. Yes, I do pray!! I've always found it so comforting to be there, to light a candle, to kneel before my Maker and just talk to Him. It's always brought me peace and it brought it to me tonight. It gave me the courage to come back and continue this Journal.

But, it also reminded me of conflict. No, not of the conflict that I'm currently undergoing, but the conflict all Legacy members must go through at one time or another. And really, it isn't "a conflict" so much as "a choice". yes, I know we've already covered "choice" early in my personal Journal -- the fact that I chose to be here -- but it was the making of that choice tonight's stop at church reminded me of. I remember .....

"Is it really that easy for you," I asked one of my associates as we walked in the gardens outside the Legacy Estate in which we lived and worked. "Don't you ever have any doubts as to whether or not you really belong here?"

"No," they replied. "I've had doubts, but I've dealt with them. You have to do the same. Only you can decide if you should be here. To tell you what to do would be wrong -- for you and for the Legacy."

I knew the answer was the right one, but I hated it. Everytime I tried talking to anyone in this House, they were always so sure of themselves, so confident, so decisive. It made me feel inferior -- like I didn't have a real focus to my life -- and I resented that feeling. "Well, thanks for listening," I said as politely as I could manage. "I'm going to go for a drive so I can think."

Driving into the City, I came to a small corner church. God must have been calling me, because the next thing I knew, I had entered it, lit a candle at the alter and was on my knees prepared to pour out my heart to Him. But, I stopped for I knew I didn't have to pour out my heart -- he already knew it.

But there I stayed. I talked to Him anyways about my doubts concerning my role in the Legacy and His desire to have me there; about my fears of being seduced by the evil we were fighting every day; about the negative feelings -- the jealousy and mistrust -- I sometimes felt for my friends (associates?); and about the bitterness being a member of the Legacy was causing in my soul.

After I don't know how long, I left the church feeling at least a little comforted and stopped off at the nearest pub to have a few drafts of ale. I knew in my heart I could never leave the Legacy .....

... And, as I said before, leaving is unthinkable. But I've also regretted the decision to stay a member each and every day since that time.

I believe that God did place me here to fight evil; He created a need to be righteous and to strive for perfection in my soul. But, did He realize that I would never obtain either of these goals?! Is it His ultimate joke on me that I should become the very thing I fight against -- the very thing I detest most in life?!? Is that all I am to Him -- a pawn? A piece to be played with at His amusement? How could you do this to me? I only wanted to serve you?!

Well, I've returned to having a few more nips of brandy and am feeling much better now. I re-read some of what I've written here and think that maybe I am mad (or at least a little insane). But then, isn't everyone? And, when you deal with death and life after it on a daily basis -- wouldn't it make you a little less sure of things too?

I notice I speak often of my need for righteousness and perfection and I've been trying to think about how I got that way. I guess it goes back to my childhood, to the values that my father (and perhaps his father before him) instilled in me. I think how dangerous the idea of those values can be to a troubled heart and yet they are the values I've tried to pass on to others in my life.

I, myself, can be secretive, distrusting of those close to me, neglectful of the ones I love, easily provoked into a rage (and I generally hate violence!), and yet I strive for righteousness and perfection in myself and in others -- especially in others! I will not accept these secretive and deceptive traits in others! My rule is, 'The closer you are to me, the more perfect and righteous you must be!' But, constantly, family and friends (co-workers? associates?) disappoint me.

So, in the end I've tried to lead my friends (and family) by example -- by showing decisiveness (even if it is rashly made sometimes!) and bravery. I've dived headfirst into whatever case comes up no matter what the danger might be. And do you think it's been appreciated? I don't! What's happening to me? Oh God, help me to hold on to my sanity!!

I must stop taking these little nips soon; I can barely feel the pen in my hand as I watch it drift across this Journal. Am I making myself clear? Do you understand that I love the Legacy and hate it at the same time?? Do you know that it is the best thing that's happened to my life -- and it's also destroyed my life and any chance I had of happiness?!

Focus, damn it! I am being seduced by evil. No, not by being "possessed" by a demon from Hell, and not with 30 pieces of silver to betray my Lord, but by "evil" itself, but by the evil that can possess mankind's spirit and soul. Oh God, how could you allow this to happen to someone who only wants to be righteous and perfect?!

What I'm trying to tell (confess?) in this Journal is that, no matter how hard I've tried to be righteous and perfect, I've not only missed the mark but I've fallen prey to the evil that exists in the world. It set a trap and walked into it with my eyes wide open! My father had always expected so much of me that I'd come to expect it too. I remember one case where my "leadership qualities" were put to the test when .....

"Don't go in there," I screamed at one of the members I had with me who was about to rush headfirst into the cave where we knew the creature had gone. Rushing headfirst into situations was something I would allow only myself to do -- not one of my friends!

We had followed the sea demon (or whatever it was) to this cave and knew that this must be where it's nest was -- it's breeding pond or place of origin. We knew little about the creature except that it had killed two people and had dragged off several local villagers -- women mainly -- who had never returned. The Legacy House's records didn't quite cover 'Demons From the Black Lagoon' and so we were on our own with little information on how to destroy it.

"We've got to stop it," my friend said, trying to reason with me. "It's just going to go on killing."

"And what about the women," my other companion commented. "They might still be alive inside. We really should go in there and see what we're really up against."

Instinct -- "Second Sight" -- whatever you call it told me that the women were dead and that the sight inside wouldn't be a pretty one. My thoughts were interrupted when my friend (the one who had wanted to rush in) commented, "But, perhaps if we go in too rashly, we won't come out again. That wouldn't help anyone now, would it?"

We three could never seem to see eye-to-eye on how to handle cases and, before the other two could speak up again, I clearly and decisively exercised my bravado and stated, "Well, I'm going in. We can't let this thing continue to prey on these villagers. Maybe you two should stay out here in case something happens and I don't make it back."

With that, I strode into the cave knowing I was doing what was right (righteous?). I saw the blaze of light from behind me and heard the footsteps of my two associates -- so, they were coming with me. But, I was in the lead. I had taken command.

The sight we found when we had finally snaked through about 3/4's of a mile of tunnel in marshy soil was horrendous. A beautiful -- I could tell she had been beautiful -- woman's head was lying next to a boulder as we entered the widest part of the cave that ended with a large pond. The rest of the young woman's body was scattered in pieces leading to the water's edge.

Immediately, I felt my stomach lurch. I was repulsed by this sight and yet strengthened by it too, somehow. This creature was evil and I would stop it! It did harmful and unthinkable things to my fellow man and I would put an end to it's existence -- by the grace of God!!

My companions also saw the sight and I actually heard one of them as they vomited. Knowing that it was up to me to stop this creature created by Hell, I pulled out a gun (I had learned to carry one early on for my own piece of mind). I seriously doubted bullets would stop this thing -- the villages surely had tried that -- but I was there on a mission from God and plunged ahead.

I started waving my torch high above my head and shouting, trying to draw the creature from wherever it might be hidden. "What are you doing?" my friend (not the one who had been sick, but the other one) asked. "Are you crazy?!"

Before I could think of an answer to this, we saw the bubbles come up from the pond and the creature (no, it wasn't black but it did have gills!) began to rise. It's soulless eyes looked in my direction but my heart didn't feel fear ... it felt anger! I would teach this creature from Hell a lesson; I would teach it that it shouldn't have risen in the world that I lived on!

My companions shouted at me to get back as they started to slowly back out of the cave. "We know what it looks like now," they reasoned. "We know it's a freshwater creature. We can come up with a way to stop it later. This is it's home -- it's nest -- it won't leave here. This isn't the time for this!"

But I stood my ground as the creature came up higher and higher out of the water. I saw in it's claw (for it had claws, not webs or hands!) the remains of yet another woman's head -- this time it was still attached to her neck and a partial shoulder. Clearly, I had interrupted it's mealtime.

The repulsion I felt within me strengthened my stand. But I took a step back as the creature hurled what remained of that poor, unfortunately woman toward me. I ducked and heard the sickening thump as it struck the wall of the cave and fell into the marsh.

I raised my gun and aimed it at the creature's chest. I fired off three shots as it continued to approach and knew that I better quickly re-think my strategy or prepare to meet my Maker. So, I leveled the gun even with the creatures' soulless eyes and shot off two more bullets.

The creature jerked back slightly, but still it continued forward. Knowing now that I must leave and return to this cave at another time to try to destroy this creature made me angry. The fact that my two associates had already known that fact made me even angrier.

But, my humiliation became complete when one of my companions brushed forward whirling a rope high over his head. Tied to the rope appeared to be one of the large blocks of salt we traveled with in the jungle to prepare our food with. 'Has he lost his mind?' I wondered.

As he released the salt block and it went flying towards the creature, he shouted, "In the name of God, depart this place."

The salt block impacted the creature, exploding and covering his body. A terrible roaring noise escaped it as it's body began to smoke and deteriorate. Yellow fluid oozed from the holes which had been eaten by the salt. The creature sank to the ground, screaming in agony as it died.

As my two associates and I watched it's carcass be eaten by the salt, my companion (who had hurled the block) explained, "When I saw that the creature was a freshwater being, I realized that this area does not contain saltwater. I thought I'd take a chance. I'm just glad, for all our sakes, it paid off."

My other associate, perhaps noting my look of discontent, patted me on the back and said, "That was the bravest, if not stupidest, thing I've seen someone do." With that, we all laughed and headed out of the cave, but I .....

... I remember that I didn't feel much like laughter at that moment. I felt very much like I'd been humiliated and again, like I didn't quite belong to (in?) the Legacy the way others within it do. All I wanted to do was be right(eous)!! Was that so much to ask, God? Couldn't I have been the hero??

But, again, I've lost the focus. One more little sip and that's it; has to be, the decanter I brought with me is empty! Looking back, I wonder why leaving the Legacy has been so forbidden in my mind -- why it is so unthinkable. Not only have I risked my own life, but what about my family's lives? Surely, I must be responsible for them. Surely that is the righteous thing, isn't it?

Thinking of my family now only brings a new rage upon me. Can I really trust my family?? What a terrible thought and yet I live with it every second of every minute of every day! I see an associate talk to a member of my family and hatred -- pure, rating hatred -- flows through me. Are they deceiving me behind my back? Are they trying to get rid of me?? What are they up to?

NO!! This is how this madness is getting ahold of me! I allow these doubts, these thoughts, this bitterness to creep in and it seduces my soul, it eats at my mind and heart and it leaves nothing -- nothing -- left! I am changing and even writing this Journal isn't stopping that fact!!

Can you understand that I don't want to change ... that I want to be a good, decent, loving person who does the righteous and perfect thing?? I was raised to be obedient, loyal, brave and to always respect (and if possible protect) others. How has my involvement with the Legacy somehow changed that?? I remember when I was a child growing up .....

"Can't we just spend a little time together, Dad," I asked as my father got ready to leave for work. "I hardly ever see you and you're always so tired at the end of the day. You never feel like doin' anything when you get home."

My Dad smiled and said, "Sorry. Gotta go. Remember what I've always told you ... when you accept a position somewhere and when you take on a responsibility, you must be loyal to it. It has to come first ... even if you don't want it to. It's the right thing to do."

"But," I started, "I miss you. Isn't taking care of your family the right thing to do too?"

I could see the flash of anger in my father's eyes, but he couldn't deny the statement. So, he briefly commented, "Yes, well, I'll try to get home early tonight and we'll spend some time together then."

And, true to his word, Dad arrived at 5:45 on the dot. Just in time to sit down with Mom and I for dinner. He had a couple glasses of wine during dinner and then sat down in his favorite chair with a beer; it was 'just to take the edge off the day', he said. Then, we picked up my ball and our gloves and went outside to play catch.

But, as our game got under way, the ball began hurling at me harder and faster with every throw. I resisted complaining as long as I could because I didn't want to upset him; he didn't play with me very often anymore and I didn't want to lose this opportunity. My hand began to really sting and I could finally hold it in no longer.

"Dad," I said a little sheepishly. "That really hurts. Could you throw it a little softer?"

Dad just grunted and hurled it again. "If you don't like it, we won't play anymore ... ever. Come on, this should toughen you up a bit."

So we played on for a while until I could feel the tears stinging my eyes; my hand had gone numb quite a while ago. I told him that I was getting cold and tired and he said, "OK, we'll call it quits then."

We went back in the house and I noticed my Mom's anxious face as Dad went into the kitchen for another beer. As I took my glove off, I saw my hand was swollen and a very unattractive blue/purple color started spreading over it. I began to get ready for bed .....

... NO! I won't let any of this be blamed on my old man. He wasn't perfect, he wasn't righteous, he was just a man! It might've taken me years to see that, but I know that now. Besides, I think people who ignore and neglect their children are far worse than those who are strict or a little tough on them from time to time.

If your child is out of control, how right is that?! No, I think strong discipline -- tempered with love, of course -- is called for. People in society make discipline sound like "child abuse". 'Don't spank that kid, you'll hurt 'em.' 'Hitting your child doesn't solve anything.' Yeah, right!

But if you don't demand loyalty, if you don't demand righteousness, if you don't demand perfection, how are you ever going to get it?!? Children must be taught -- sometimes the hard way -- to listen, to behave properly and to do what is right. If you can teach them this, the world will be a better place. And, isn't that ultimately what the legacy is about -- making the world a better place?

I wonder now -- why did I think I needed this Journal? Why was I so worried?? Thinking about how I react to things and how my comrades do, I realize that I am probably the only sane one in the group. Evil hasn't touched me! What was I thinking? I am a righteous person -- the things I've done are to help make the world a better place!

The taste of my fifth -- and now final! -- beer going down my throat finally began to relax me. Ah, perfection at last! I had finally achieved peace. It had been another tough week, another tough case, another day of feeling inadequate and out of place. Everyone in the house had gone to bed and I was alone with my thoughts, alone wit my drink, perfectly and peacefully alone ... and damn, it felt good!

Just then, the sound of footsteps entered the room and I turned to see who had made them. "Is everything OK?" a voice asked me. "Is something wrong?"

"Yeah, everything's OK and no, nothing's wrong. So just leave me alone and go back to bed."

"Tough day, huh?" the voice continued.

I felt my rage growing. Why can't people just learn how to behave?! The perfect mood, the perfect moment, the perfect peace had now been spoiled! I turned that rage to the owner of the voice and struck out with words and with my fist. As the person flew back and struck the wall -- knocking down some photos in the process! -- my anger consumed me and I continued to strike out ... over and over and over again ... until I finally passed out.

I had been forgiven for the bloody wounds and bruises I had caused from my outrage. It was their fault, after all, for disturbing the perfect moment, but .....

... NO! I can't live with this! This kind of behavior can't be righteous!! It has to be evil to strike someone down so viciously -- to cause broken ribs and bones, to bruise appendages, to bloody a face -- God help me ... what have I done?! What have I become?

Reading this Journal from the beginning, I now realize that I am insane -- completely and totally mad -- that I've lost all touch with human decency. I'd like to blame the Legacy (oh that would be so easy, wouldn't it?), but I know now that I cannot. As I said in the beginning, I chose this path. I can only blame myself; I've been touched -- and have succumbed -- to evil!

I think of things I've done ... the lies I've told to friends and loved ones, the pain I've caused my family, the unspeakable evil that I've done to those close to me ... and I realize that who I am now is a monster -- the very evil I've fought against! I realize that the person I had wanted to be -- a loving, gentle husband; an attentive and caring father; a righteous man; and a good and decent friend -- don't exist within me anymore.

Evil has won another battle, but I pray not the war. You see, "true" evil is not some demon from the depths of Hell, but the demon that lies inside us that we can't contain. "Pure" evil is not some hideous creature, but the horrible things we humans do to one another without consciousness or thought. Lying, stealing, cheating ... yes -- oh yes -- even drinking (especially when it leads to abusing!) are the true definitions of "evil".

And so, you must understand, whatever case I undertake next for the Legacy will be my last. It has to be. I have to find a way to stop the evil that is growing inside me -- the evil that I've become!! God forgive me!

This Journal belongs to ....

Jonathan Boyle

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