A/N: Hey, it's Fy here. Should I continue with this? I do have quite an interesting idea for an actual book. But… it might be better just to leave it simple, like this. I'm leaving it up to you, readers (If I've got any… I mean I just signed up about two or three days ago!)

I remember when I first saw him, Oskar. He was sleeping in a train seat, but I forget where the train was going. The window was lit up by the bright sunlight of mid-afternoon, only serving to help the effect that made him look like an angel, as it gathered around his head like a halo. I'd heard about love at first sight, but I didn't believe in love. You can imagine my surprise when my heart leapt out of my chest towards this young, sleeping boy.

I failed to notice the small coffin near him. I thought it was just a wooden box. A normal wooden box. Who cares? I sure would, later. In there sat a girl. A vampire girl. They thought they were in love. They'd run away together.

In the end, she decided love was a mortal misperception, and he decided he was gay. Of course, as most happy-ending childhood romances have it, they became great friends (as they probably always were).

I took him under my wing. He was weak, at first, but he grew to be strong. Stronger than me. I grew to love life, which was strange for me, because before him I had absolutely despised it. He went back to his parents, who'd made up and remarried in their desperate search for him. He snuck out to train with me and play with the girl.

A problem arose. His parents were homophobic. He was as gay as I had finally admitted to being. And so, he had to hide it.

I remember when he found his true love. Charles. He was crazy. He needed a rock. I'd trained Oskar to be a rock. I guess something about that… Insanity was alluring to him. He'd lived his life in order. He let the boy stay at his house, away from his abusive father. But when his parents found them, about to kiss for the very first time, they killed him. Then, they killed themselves.

The mental people took Charles, as I would've suspected. I knew he would escape though, I had taught Oskar everything I knew about escape, and he must've taught Charles. I watched him from afar, my spies reported back to me on how he was doing. He was my last connection to life.

When he escaped I hired a Japanese man to take him far away. I was planning to meet him there, live my life with him, try and make him sane. However, the police arrested the man I hired as harboring an escaped insane person. The police tried to get Charles then too, but I suppose the escape technique came into play.

Charles, I'm going to publish something. Something popular. Something that will reach even Japan. This is going to be the author's note. If you're reading this, Charles, as I know you love to read, find me in the place where Oskar used to play. Please.

So this book is dedicated to Charles, wherever you may be.

Adrian Veidt