May 7, 1997
I, John D. Porter, have done at last that which I thought I would never do.
Who will blame me? Who can be my judge after all the trials that have eaten at me since Dr. Ulman found the codex?
I fear I am trapped at the end of the chase.
No more games.
No more answers.
I honestly believe that no human starts a day with the clear intention of engaging in a crime which is undeniably evil. Even Cain in the Old Testament thought he was doing that which served his best interests. That’s the motto of modern culture.
It is an angry mouth chewing on me each minute now, a creature which ignores intelligence while feigning a prudent brow for a reason I have yet to understand.
I know this shall progress no further than today. I may never learn the end of the story.
Who is left to trust? What mortal can I lean on…in this, my final hour?
I wish Alred had never gotten involved. She can’t hide anymore behind those strong eyes and her stalwart posture. Alred’s a good person. She’s the only one who’s been with me from the beginning. I’d like to think she even understands…
Now I cling to the only thing that hasn’t been taken from me: my painful testimony of the reality of the unwanted codex.
Surrounded by many, I feel…alone.
I pray this is not my last journal entry.