'You are Ivan Jacob Kurst. Rich, disgraced schoolteacher, a self-professed pervert known to the authorities. You consort with undesirables, recruit under-age girls for personal gratification. You've been involved with Irene Ballamore, Henry Albert Lynch, and you entertain vampires. You may or may not be involved with the police, but those you meet are known to be "unorthodox". You may or may not have been complicit in the murder of Mr Lynch. You converse with ghosts and seek phantoms. Yes, you were attacked my elements who considered you a threat. And what happened? Red goo.' A sad reflection indeed on a life distorted out of all recognition...True - my compulsion, my obsession is to create, in perfect wood, the essence of any 15-year-old girl my muse judges worthy. Am I a bad man? Perhaps; but I do no harm. Burden enough, then; yet now I am forced to acknowledge an even greater sin: that of ignorance. Ignorance of the true plight of innocents at the hands of sexual predators. So many horrors, so many victims; they seek to smother me. Thus, I must convene with ghosts, consort with the surreal...And yes, I have witnessed apparitions and sanctioned death. Moreover, I have supped with Liliya Simonova, chameleon extraordinaire, and taught girls the ways of plane and saw. Be in no doubt, I place no limitations on my quest. As a rich man blighted by perversity, passage into Heaven via any needle's eye is, for me, no longer imaginable. Yet, it is not salvation I seek. Grievous wrongs must be set right. It is my penance, my mission. The destruction of those who exploit the innocent is now my goal. I am Ivan Jacob Kurst. I am the woodwork teacher.
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