Hello who ever is unlucky enough to find my journals,

I guess I should start with who I am and what monstrosity you have uncovered. My name you need not know because I am no longer known by a name. I am a seventeen year old guy and I am writing these journals for whatever solace they might provide my soul from the inexcusable crimes I have committed against the Universal Good. The monstrosity you have uncovered is two fold, first the knowledge that such a man existed and will exist in the future and second the knowledge that such deeds can be done and are done on a regular basis.

I frankly do not care if you believe me or not when you are reading this because it is a weight off of my eternal soul just writing this. I am not looking for pity or recognition or attention, I am merely writing to alleviate the suffering that plagues my being. To sum up my life so far I offer you this quote from the book American Psycho "There are no more barriers to cross. All I have in common with the uncontrollable and the insane, the vicious and the evil, all the mayhem I have caused and my utter indifference toward it I have now surpassed. My pain is constant and sharp and I do not hope for a better world for anyone, in fact I want my pain to be inflicted on others. I want no one to escape, but even after admitting this there is no catharsis, my punishment continues to elude me and I gain no deeper knowledge of myself; no new knowledge can be extracted from my telling. This confession has meant nothing."

If what I have written is so far is too much for you then I urge you to discontinue the reading of this journal because it will only get worse. If for some reason you decide to continue out of morbid curiosity then be warned that it is not for the faint of heart and that you will know what the spiritual world holds for you and all who journey there. I post this here so that some may be spared my fate and my punishment so that there will not be a sixth scourge of the seven planes.

You may judge what you believe to be true or false, I post this on fiction press because it is a safe atmosphere for me to and so that there will not be any serious backlash at the content in this journal. If you should turn this page, either from morbid curiosity or because you believe that this will be at least entertaining, then be warned that now you are in the mind of The Fifth Scourge of The Seven Planes and this is his story.