matted with blood. I kissed her cold forehead and knew that I had lost all that mattered most to
me. I fear that her last days were spent in torment. The specter of her final hours is never far
from my mind.
Forgive me for being the bearer of this horrible story. I am tempted to remain silent,
keeping the ghastly details from you. But you are a woman now, and with age we must face the
reality of things. We must fathom even the darkest realms of human existence. We must
grapple with the strength of evil, its persistence in the world, its undying power over
humanity, and our willingness to support it. It is little comfort, I’m sure, to know that you are
not alone in your despair. For me Angela’s death is the darkest of all dark regions. My
nightmares echo with her voice and with the voice of her killer.
Your father could not live in Europe after what happened. His flight to America came swift
and final—he cut off contact with all of his relations and friends, including me, so that he
might raise you in solitude and peace. He gave you a normal childhood, a luxury not many of
us in angelological families have experienced. But there was another reason for his escape.
The Nephilim were not satisfied with the invaluable information I had relinquished so
foolishly. Soon after, they ransacked my apartment in Paris, taking objects of great value to me
and to our cause, including one of your mother’s logs. You see, of the collection of notebooks
I surrendered in Switzerland, there was one that I left behind, believing it safe among my
belongings. It was a curious collection of theoretical work your mother had been compiling
for her third book. It was in its early stages and therefore incomplete, but upon first examining
the notebook I had understood how brilliant, and how dangerous, and how precious it was. In
fact, I believe that it was due to these theories that the Nephilim took Angela.
Once this information had fallen into the hands of the Nephilim, I knew that all my attempts
at keeping its contents secret had failed. I was mortified by the loss of the notebook, but I had
one consolation: I had copied it word for word into a leather journal that should be very
familiar to you—it is the same notebook that was given to me by my mentor, Dr. Seraphina
Valko, and the very same notebook that I gave to you after your mother’s death. Once this
notebook belonged to my teacher. Now it is in your care.
The notebook contained Angela’s theory about the physical effects of music upon molecular
structures. She had begun with simple experiments using lower life forms—plants, insects,
earthworms—and had worked up to larger organisms, including, if her experiment log can be
relied upon, a lock of hair from a Nephilistic child. She had been testing the effects of some
celestial instruments—we had a number of them in our possession and Angela had full access
—using Nephilistic genetic samples such as shredded wing feathers and vials of blood.
Angela discovered that the music of some of these alleged celestial instruments actually had
the power to alter the genetic structure of Nephilim tissue. Moreover, certain harmonic
successions had the power to diminish Nephilistic power, while others appeared to have the
power to increase it.
Angela had discussed the theory at length with your father. He understood her work better
than anyone, and although the details are very complicated and I am ignorant of her precise
scientific methods, your father helped me to understand that Angela had proof of the most
incredible effect of musical vibrations upon cellular structures. Certain combinations of
chords and progressions elicited profound physical results in matter. Piano music resulted in
pigmentation mutation in orchids—the études of Chopin leaving a dapple of pink upon white
petals, Beethoven muddying yellow petals brown. Violin music brought an increase in the
number of segments in an earthworm. The incessant dinging of the triangle caused a number of
houseflies to be born without wings. And so on.
You might imagine my fascination when, some time ago, many years after Angela’s death, I
discovered that a Japanese scientist named Masaru Emoto had created a similar experiment,
using water as the medium upon which musical vibrations were tested. Using advanced
photographic technology, Dr. Emoto was able to capture the drastic change in the molecular
structure of water after it was subjected to certain musical vibrations. He asserted that certain
strains of music created new molecular formations in the water. In essence these experiments
agreed with your mother’s experiments, corroborating that musical vibration works at the
most basic level of organic material to change structural composition.