Chapter 208

Taken from the journal of Benjamin Garrick, physician. October 3rd, 1692, Sozopol. I hath lost all semblance of time. Hours, days, weeks, months, it matters not. What is time when death is suddenly no barrier? What is time when thou canst transcend from life to death and then back to life again? Time seems inconsequential now, as does a great many other things that may hath bore some significance before. Before what thou may enquire? Before these hands, which once were only capable of healing, became things of such monstrous brutality. Before the darkness came. Before I became the darkness. I digress of course, jumping ahead with no thought to relive the time that hath been lost to me, but that is the way of things now. It seems of little value to linger over my past life but for the sake of this journal, I shall return, if only for a short while. Let me go back to before my transcript within these pages did reach an abrupt halt after the boy Emil died, for th