In the big, big house there is a big, big room. In the big, big room there is a big, big bookcase. On the big, big bookcase there are seventeen big, big books - black in colour with their volume number scratched in red on the side. This library of books compiles the "Decroforma" - Harshing's journal collection and erratic details of his personal life since he was 14 years old.

Some say the series of Decroforma are so inlaid with hatred that they are cursed and full of darkarts, the very pages have become magical.

The end book is unfinished, it is thinner than the others. A pale hand reached towards it and opens it. All of the perfectly formed letters are in a thick, red ink. Or is it ink? Coldstone Harshing dips a quill inside a fresh arm on his desk and begins to pen the next chapter.

Entry #378

I am a genius.

I have proven it time, after time after time and now it is apparent on the highest level. The world is my puppet and I am a puppet master, hooking on strings to the most powerful people in existence. And yet I pose as the humble servant, even offering to connect my mind to his - that p**s-filed cur, Sentinus. He dares to think he is above me, he dares to think I do not know his ever action and plot.

But I have won. He believes I am Family now, forever in his servitude. No one can tame the Frost Angel, only the Frost Angel himself.

It would be all too easy to kill the Sentinus through a mind link for I do not seek power at all. Yet my ambition is to slay him. I am caught up into a terrible paradox - of desire and content. My ambition has never been to rule, just control, live, pleasure...love. And yet the one who loves me sees only a facade, Alexis sees only the emotion I choose to distill. She sees not the undistilled soul but a false mask.

I rarely present my undistilled mensa. An undistilled mensa is a weakness, one that the Stewert menace possesses.

One day I shall wrap her hair around her little throat and watch her suffocate in my arms. Then I would hold her and nurse her corpse, comb her hair, clean her skin and kiss her. She would be perfection. Imagine it: to then kill myself and lie next to her, to always be remembered as th one who conquered that beast.

Yet the beast tricked me, yes it did - it tried to steal my secrets...

I write to you in confidence, Decroforma.

Coldstone

Entry #459

I am a genius.

Those pawns, those pathetic pawns worship my very presence in the Protector's Council. My power there has grown to a godlike stance, I head the way in policy and direction.

Why do I want to reform the Death Eaters? I do not know yet, something tells me too. I have power in the Protectors, I am bringing life to my country. I do not really believe in blood purity, it is an act to cause competition. Why must I ruin this by stirring up hatred?

Because the mudbloods are getting power? No - who cares about blood? Blood is blood is blood. Blood is not currency, it is weakness.

But I am being called to the Death Eaters. Called to purge the streets. I have no motive here, but to see bodies, eyes crystal, stained in their filthy blood...

Am I sick? Am I unwell? I am Frost Angel. I am Harshing. I am Power.

I write to you in confidence, Decroforma

Coldstone