Entry 6606

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My last victim. The last living being on this earth.

Funny how it just so happened to be a wolf.

Stop shaking, neaten up your writing.

I haven't told Swift that this is the last of the living.

I'll tell him in a few days when the pleasure of this final kill has subsided.

We're currently camping in the area where we first met, he's awfully sentimental about the whole thing. He seems to forget that I dragged his unconscious form for quite some time and that was after killing two teenagers poking at him with sticks.

But he does get strangely emotional with these things and I'll likely wait for this to simmer as well.

I shall have to kill him eventually and in turn kill myself. I'd been working for it long enough at this point.

It's also our wedding anniversary in a weeks time.

He won't be quite as agile as he was in that church but he'll be excited for that pointless event too. The poor mutts getting old but he's still somehow got his physique.

The only age I see on him is his white hair. Everywhere.

Enough about Anderson. I want some details from your life pup, as the last victim.

My name is Geraldine Butler.

I have lived 9203 years and now is my time.

I am a proud wolf, fought in many a battle.

I am the last on this earth. The last to die at the hands of two murderers.

That was all quite dramatic mutt but you forgot your fingerprint.

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