Dear Auburn,

I hope this letter finds you with nothing but ill tidings and dismay. I am writing to you to tell you that Demon Eyes has returned, and I have no intent on making him leave. He has bound himself to me like a tumor. I am him as he is me. We are one and the same. But you? You are nothing but a few wisps of smoke, and for that I am sure you hate me. Be mindful, Auburn, the patron saints can look through your soulless windows. Your hatred towards me does nothing but prove that you are alone, sad, and disgraceful. You will die a painful, forgettable death. It will not be in vain, though. One day I will feast on your flesh. Maybe then, in a perverted sense, you and I will finally see eye-to-eye. We can become one. 

Regards,
Perfidious


DEAR AUBURN,

I CANNOT SEE ANYMORE. THE RITUAL WAS A MISTAKE. MY EYES BLEED TEARS OF SHAME AND REGRET. PLEASE REMEMBER THAT I LOVE YOU. I WISH NOTHING BUT THE RETURN OF HELL ON EARTH FROM THE BOOK OF REVELATIONS, SO THAT MAYBE ONE DAY WE CAN FINALLY SPEAK AGAIN. FACES TO FACE. I MAY BE BLIND, BUT I STILL LONG FOR YOUR SCENT, YOUR TOUCH, AND YOUR BLOOD. 

REGARDS, 
THE AMALGAMATION


Dear Auburn,

Why did you kill the birds? They did nothing but chirp and hop along the stone walkways. I know how you hate music, though. Was it their song, did it lambaste you the way she did? Did you even care when you snapped their hollow bones? Since this has become an interrogation, I would like to ask you a very important question: why do you think the crucifix over your bed and the gun under your pillow will save you? Nothing can save your wretched soul. You will never reach redemption or safety, and for that I cannot pity you. You do not feel remorse, do you? I don't blame you. When I stand over your bed tonight, I fully expect you to gaze into my eyes and pull the trigger. That is alright. I can't die. I will return to the garden and tend to the plants, and the birds you murdered. I will feed them bits of my brain matter so that they finally understand. I wonder...I wonder if you remember how I fed you. I gave you everything, and you've forsaken me. This is far from over. 

Regards,
The Prophet


Dear Auburn

The ground is very cold. And heavy. I still can't get the taste of dirt out of my mouth. This is all of your fault. Why, Auburn, why? You said you loved me. I trusted you to keep me safe and sacred, and this is what I get? You buried me after that treacherous night. Beneath a beautiful willow tree. Its roots did nothing but strangle me while I was beneath the earth. I am so tired of choking on nothing. With each bandage I wrap around my neck I curse your name. Fuck you, Auburn. You are an unlovable bastard. Where I used to yearn for your touch I only feel emptiness. There is a void in me, in every single spot of flesh you've brushed upon with those hands. I hate it. I hate you and I loathe this prison of muscle and bone. Finish the job next time! Don't leave me like this when you come back. I know you will. You're like a disease, always returning in the right season. All I can say to that is bring your best. Give it your all. So that maybe when you die, there will be nothing left. Or maybe existence will become as residual as I am. I don't care. 

Regards,
Seraph 


Dear Auburn

I can only be ignored for so long.

Regards,
Demon Eyes


Dear Auburn,

My name is unimportant, but what I am going to say bears more weight than the corpses you've dragged alongside yourself for all these years. Don't do it! Do not go back! Or else you will doom us all. I won't deny that you are a fool, always have been- especially after what you did to that poor girl. However, I know you are not completely stupid. There is something, if not much in your head of yours. Stay safe, Auburn, for this is the only way. Do not let them win this game of torment. You've already proven yourself as the champion, anyway. Be careful. Do not speak back to the voice in the well. That is all I have left to say.

Regards,
Nobody.


Dear Auburn,

Rabbit's blood? Is that all you've got? No bit of magic will be able to save you from the wrath I will rain upon you once you show your traitorous face again. And I know you will. So, for now, I lay in poise. I am coiled like a snake and just as eager to strike with my fangs. How dare you! How dare you or any of your kind so much as BREATHE in the direction of my daughter. You are sick! You are a sick, vile creature! Is this a game to you? Is this entertaining? Well, I am going to make tearing apart every fiber of your being a very fun game for ME. Mark my words, Auburn, son of the saint and heir to the throne, I will kill you ten thousand times over. In the name of my daughter, in the name of my Seraphim. 

Regards,
The All Father