They came for me again. I had to hide, but they always seem to find me. They found me in Paris this time. I should have learned my lesson by now, not to hide in Paris. Sydney once told me that the best way to stay hidden would be in plain sight – where they would least expect you to be. They have a base in Paris. One of my favorite places in Paris is the Arc de Triomphe, a huge Gothic arch bathed in history. I frequent it often, going to the top, looking down upon the city of lights. Given, I am not one who enjoys crowds, but the arch can get a bit packed at certain times of night as well as dawn. The best time to go is 4 A.M. It is quiet. I like to sit on the ledge of the lookout. Unfortunately, one of their members arrived shortly after I did. She had followed me and contacted a few colleagues by radio of my location. That was when she approached me. I have told them time and time again that I am not interested in joining their … organization, that I do not care about the benefits and powers they possess. They seem to not understand. Being who I am, they think that I should jump at an opportunity like that. But they do not know me. The Illuminati first heard of me when I “escaped” from England and lived in the monastery with Father David. I had been quiet at first, not saying a word – I thought I would pretend to be a mute, but after a few months, I started to open up. I had not been sleeping due to nightmares and the delirium brought on by my restlessness, and finally, around dawn somewhere in my fourth month there, Father David came to talk to me, making an offer at Confession, thinking perhaps penance would cure my sleeplessness. So I confessed. And he freaked. He had to confide in bishops and cardinals. At first his colleagues all thought me insane, until he found a cardinal that believed my story. I don’t like needles, nor the sedatives that come with them. I spent an unknown amount of time going in and out of consciousness in a room that I could only assume was in some mental institution somewhere. Church leaders visited me, mostly Catholic, probing me, asking so many questions … I won’t get into it now, just that it was painful and mentally exhausting. When I finally escaped from there, I stumbled to the Theatre des Vampires – white scrubs, bandages and all. Every now and then, they were able to find me, always after the same thing … And they found me again in Paris. There was a bit of a fight. Orchid may be upset when he sees me next, but I do not trust hospitals anymore, nor could I set foot in one unless I’m willing to succumb to massive amounts of pain, and screams in my mind of the hurt and the dying. So I bandaged myself. I think I’m starting to get pretty good at taking care of myself … … really.