Why do mortals find it unusual I drain the blood out of their veins to put in my freezer just to mould into knives? I find it oddly peculiar that it's only a hobby they're frightened by. 

[I write strange novels of all my past lives and living souls. I suggest you read my novels or I will rip out your heart and put it in my collection to stab and torture for the rest of eternity! I mean, that's what happened to the last mortal.)

P.S. Real novel will be coming soon once soul is found. Well, at least shadow hopefully. I can't seem to find anything anymore. Not even friends. Wait, is that what they're called?