Dear Diary, I'm not a believer. People are born, they grow old and then they die. That's the world we live in. There's no magic, no mysticism, no immortality. There is nothing that defies rational thought. People are supposed to be who they say they are and not lie or hide their true selves. It's not possible. I'm not believer. I can't be. But how can I deny what's right in front of me? Someone who never grows old. Never gets hurt. Someone who changes in ways that can't be explained. Girls bitten. Bodies drained of blood.