Readers, it is with a heavy heart that I write this. Last night, on the twenty-sixth of October, our vampire intruder was yet again spotted. While there were no human victims this time, I have been informed that many of Professor DracheBlume’s chickens met a tragic ending. Blood was everywhere and I cannot help but to think that a vampire to be a much more efficient feeder. The creature whom many suppose must be Elliot, though as a lover of conspiracies, I think differently, was startled after the attack, fleeing deep into the Forbidden Forest.
While there is little more for me to report, this writer felt it urgent that she attach the following diary entries which were found with a warning: The following is not for the faint of heart.
I didn’t get much sleep last night. – I could feel Elliott watching me. In the dark I couldn’t see him, but I could hear him. His low guttural growls echoing off the caves walls. I knew his eyes to be on me, and if I’m perfectly honest I must say that I was frightened. Rare is the occasion that I have been truly frightened of my brother. Last night was one of those rare times. That day in the church was another.
I arrived at the church by dusk – I had expected to be met with the haunting screams of Elliott. I was not. The church was quiet, eerily quiet. My footsteps seemed painfully loud and I could hear my laboured breathing. My head and face throbbed, I had not realised the full extent of my injuries until now. I felt as if my head had been split from the backside and I reached a hand to the wound before hearing his growl. I called out to my brother just as I saw a shadow moving in the distance. I called to him again.
Elliott didn’t recognise me. I met the floor with a tremendous thud, Elliott on top of me. His eyes wild and his face pale, he was mad crazed with his sickness. But he had never attacked me before, he had never not recognised me. I could feel his breath hot against my neck, I could taste his rage. I struggled against him for minutes that easily felt like hours, until it was over. Elliott released me and he ran.
I did not see my brother for nearly a fortnight after that.
I’m so tired today. I can feel a coldness within me. The stench of this place is beginning to get to me… So many have begun to rot. I have watched as their flesh has slowly disintegrated from their bones, leaving yellow corpses scattered around this godforsaken place. Eyes that were once filled with terror and fear have now sunk back into hollowed sockets of an empty darkness. – I envy them. I envy the escape that they have found – an escape I wonder if we will ever have.
My guilt is slowly eating at me as I watch the pain that Elliott is in. How long has it been now?
I can hear the slow trickle of water along the wall. It’s collected into a small puddle near my feet and I allow myself to get lost in it’s weeping.
My thoughts are stirred by the sound of Elliott. He has woken from a fitful sleep. I can hear his laboured breathing in the dark, it mixes with the slow patter of the water. How has he done it? How has he restrained himself for this long?
Elliott is asleep now. I dipped a scrap of my shirt into the pool of water and laid it on his head. His brown hair is plastered to his pale skin – I imagine him to be overcome with fever. We talked for a while as I cooled his face with the cloth. It’s strange to watch him slip in and out of conscious state – from the brother I know…knew… To what he is now. I wish that I could have kept all of this from him.
I wish that I could have saved him.