I have wondered what you feel like for so long. You met my Grandfather, and I wondered if you were as gentle and quiet as you appeared. You took my little cousin, and I asked how you could take so long, and let him suffer as he did. You gathered five souls eight years ago, at the fire in Milton's Gym. Did you want them? could they speak to you? Did you order their arrival, or did you need to rush to the scene to take them in time? You gathered twenty more after the shootout last year. Did you want those souls? Do you see their killers as loyal servants, ready to sacrifice to you at their own risk? Are they an annoyance instead, overeager evil - doers who make you do more work than wanted? Do you even care about who you take? What happens to them after they meet you? If anything happens at all? You don't only take people. You take animals, plants, dreams, innocence. You take beliefs and industries. You took my mobility just a few weeks ago. You have taken so much from the world, both good and bad. I have known you in many ways over my lifetime. Just as I have known you, I know that you will come to meet me soon. You are a social one - you forget to come for nothing. When you come, I hope it is to meet me, not to take me. I have heard and learned so much about you - forgive me when I greet you as a well known friend and companion.