What happened then?
Angzen had more and more ominous throats brooding in his mind.
[Tuesday the 19th.
If anyone should see this, I hope they don't take me as mad for what I'm about to speak of is entirely true.]
The handwriting was shaky, with splatters of blood sprinkled on the page.
Angzen immediately had the illusion of a young man in his 20s or early 30s, writing with shaky hands and deep lines of worry on his face.
His writing would go either underneath or over the writing lines on the diary.
And as the words progressed into paragraphs, the letters also grew fat and uneven, as though the man was rushing to complete the journal before getting discovered.
But from who? His wife?
Angzen didn't think so.
Earlier, the man, though respectful of his wife, didn't show any signs of being afraid of her in his writing.
Then... Who was coming for him?
