This day was a sad one indeed.

The women returned home with utter doubt in her mind. Something came over her, as if her mind had snapped like a twig. Was it her who caused his death? Yes, it was.. she was the one who spiked those thoughts. And now they had plagued her. Cheal had no need to manipulate what was to come; he knew it would, and didn’t bother to write it in his book. She had killed herself that night, with several violent, bloody stabs in the throat.

When her death occurred, he arose from the dead.

His once crushed face, broken bones, and bullet wound all healed now. A book sat upon his lap, labeled the Arcanum Key. Its white leather cover tied and bound by a strange, constantly radiating, ethereal light. Laughs could be heard inside the morgue, where only dead men were supposed to lay, among the tools and their user. Cheal now lives in England, far from home, in a secluded home in a remote mountain range where he shall live forever as he had wrote it in blood.

“This world will finally change”