My Dearest Eleanor,

I am gazing upon you as you rest in our bed. It pains me to say, but it seems our time together may come to an abrupt end rather soon.

I'm sorry for that.

Truthfully...I knew this was coming. Samuel is the embodiment of our nature; he has the urge to devour. Unfortunately, I cannot resist him.

So...I have dug two graves for us.

Like me, he cannot be killed. Shot, stabbed, bombed, poisoned.

However, I happened upon an unfortunate loophole. In my hedonistic thralls from my younger years, I once caught on fire quite accidentally.

The fire consumed my leg, turning it to ash.

It did not regenerate immediately.

It took two years.

Two years. And it was never quite the same. It seems...the less matter for the body to go on, the longer it takes for it to regenerate.

And nothing is quite as destroyed as ash.

So I have resolved to burn him. Him and I. And it should hold us over. For a few hundred years, our ashes mixing with the brownstone.

And that leaves you.

My dearest Eleanor. You are so beautiful. I am watching you sleep, your lashes against your cheek. I am enthralled with you. Your love has filled with such a new appreciation for my existence.

It pains me so to leave you. But I am not gone. I have left everything to you, Eleanor. I have also set aside some money for Emma and Liam.

I want you to know I love you, Eleanor. And I will always find you. Do not give up hope. We will complete our list.

Take care of yourself dearest. Take care do yourself how I'd take care of you. I will see you soon.

Your husband eternally,

Alastair La Rue