October 20, 199_
The demon Idimmu.
He was there again last night, in my dream. Just like he has since I finished his story. I haven’t actually seen him, but I know he’s there. I created him after all, didn’t I? Idimmu hunts me. He stalks me, waiting for something.
Last night’s dream was very strange. I was walking through a park and felt him behind me, but whenever I looked there was nothing. Then it happened, the inevitable attack. I was knocked to the ground from behind and felt a tingling through my spine and that was all.
Only, that’s just it: that wasn’t all. When I awoke there was a sticky wetness covering my pillow and face; I had vomited blood in my sleep. I got up to clean it off and saw something scribbled on the wall. I knew it was written in blood. When my eyes adjusted to the light I saw that I was not wrong. I read the words: “I LIVE AGAIN.”
My God, what have I done?
I haven’t dreamt of him since the 20th (for good reason, I’d say). He’s out there. Killing. In these four days there have been at least eight deaths. Each one the same, the body or, rather, what was a body is discovered and reported. Each victim is left, ah, how to describe it adequately…
The corpses look as if every bone has been removed, like a blow-up doll filled with jelly, only the bones are still there, it’s just that they’ve been turned into a viscous liquid.
They haven’t come up with a cause, but I know. I wrote the story before. He absorbs their souls and they die in more excruciating pain than is sanely imaginable.
God forgive me, what have I unleashed?
Nine more dead.
Another message on my wall, one word: “IDIMMU.” Where does the blood come from now?
Dear God, I now know dread.
Eighteen more victims.
Again, a message: “THANK YOU, MORTAL WRITER.”
God help me.
I haven’t slept or left the house since the 27th, for good reason. The count has increased by thirty. I haven’t told anyone I know. Who would believe me? No one has yet read my story. No one would believe that I wrote him into existence, no one would believe in a demon anyway.
Lord guide me, I have to do something.
My scalpel shines peacefully in this light…
Idimmu, He Who Brings Darkness to the Light, Stealer of Souls, will not stop. The souls keep him alive and the more he gets the more powerful he becomes. He has absorbed more than a hundred souls by now. There is no way to stop him. I should know, I created him. In the last story I wrote, the story of Idimmu’s terrorous reign, he won. Evil was triumphant.
I can’t let that happen for real. If I die, he may be destroyed. I pray he’s not too powerful already. Regardless, it’s my only solution.
Dear God in Heaven, forgive me what I do. I hope this brings good.
NEWSLINE...AUTHOR, SUSPECTED SERIAL KILLER, TAKES OWN LIFE. WILL SLAYING CONTINUE?