This is a journal I plan on writing from the point of view of a medieval vampire hunter. The origin of this is from the Renn Faire we have in town. Melinda (my girlfriend) helped me make a vampire hunter's outfit, including a satchel with many pouches and pockets, including one for a cool leather bound journal I never used. I had someone this past year ask me if it had anything in it, and I did not. That led me to the great idea of creating a persona for the costume, and writing of an ordinary man turned hunter.
I plan on writing out the journal entries here first, then copying them down into the journal once I'm satisfied with them. Anyone bored enough can feel free to read them and comment or ask questions and such.
List of events to be covered: Start of journey due to death of family by vampire Lore gathering First attempt on vampire ends horribly
The Journal of Viktor Wagner
12 of May, (not sure what year, must be 14th century due to occam's razor reference)
My family is dead.
Murdered by a monster.
This journal will bear witness to my revenge. If I fall I ask that someone who reads this will pick up my quest of vengence for me.
My name is Viktor Wagner. I come from the town of St. Gilgen, a farming town located outside of Salzburg. I had made my fair share of money early on in life when my father died and left me his farm. I managed to buy several other farms in the area and become quite comfortable. I found a beautiful woman to be my wife, and together we had two children. Girls. My life was so good. Until that night...
Three nights ago I was away to the city, visiting my bank. When I came home the next day it was to the news that my family had died just that night. The bodies had not yet been burried because of the marks on them. They each bore two holes. My wife had them on her neck, the children each on their arms. The bodies were too pale. The villagers superstitions rose quickly, and said that it was a vampire. They demanded the destruction of the bodies to prevent them from rising up as creatures of the night. The priest refused to allow me to burry them in the church cemetary. He said they were now the devil's tools.
I could not allow anyone else to desecrate the bodies like that. I did it myself... That afternoon will haunt my nights until the day I die. I will include the methods I used to dispose of the bodies for the sake of completeness and accuracy, not out of some love of the macabre. I drove a stake into their hearts, removed their heads, placed a holy wafer under the tongue, stuffed the mouth with garlic, burried the heads at a crossroad, burned the bodies, and scattered the ashes and bone in the nearest river. This was what the priest assured me would prevent them from rising again. The only small consolation I had I suppose was the small amount of blood their bodies had left in them.
I was able, at least to errect headstones for my family in the cemetary, even if there lies nothing beneath them. It gives me some amount of closure, I think.
I do not remember much of the next day. I am told I was to be found at the bottom of a tankard. I regret the decision today, but I find it hard to fault myself. I wish to crawl back down there even now. I wish I could escape this misery somehow. But drinking my money away would do me no good in the end. Instead, I will discover the truth of their deaths for myself.
I spoke at length to Father Gunter this morning. I always thought of vampires as tales told to send shivers up the spine and keep children behaved, but he assures me they are real. He spent his time as an accolyte under a priest who devoutly believed in the walking dead. As a result, the good Father also believed in the truth to the tales. I always felt it a small eccentricity in him, mostly harmless. But now... I can't help but wonder. I saw what looked like fang marks. I saw the lack of blood in the bodies. Why would anyone do that? It was not robbers using superstitions to cover their crimes. Nothing was removed from the house. So why kill and arrange the bodies like that? I had no answers but the obvious. I suppose this is what they call the idea behind Ockham's Razor.
After speaking with the Father, I did not find out much new information on vampires themselves, but he did assure me that the legends are true. What he did tell me is how I might find one. He tells me that they can travel great distances, but not so great as to be overly difficult to find. He told me that they do not only live in old, abandoned castles, for how many of those are there, really? But they are usually rich, and prefer to live in luxury. I should look for large estates that have been vacant or recently bought. Odd to think of a monster buying a house, but I suppose there is less inquiry into a legal tennant than mysterious circumstances. Tomorrow I will begin my hunt in Salzburg.
13 of May
The trip to Salzburg was unexpectedly eventful. Near the end of the journey one of my stirrups broke, almost unseating me. I had to walk the last part of the trip, resulting in a late arrival. I will have to find someone to repair my saddle before I begin my research I suppose. Frustrating.
14 of May
My first trip was to find out about possible housing for the monster. I don't know whether it is luck or devine help, but I could only find one reasonable house for the monster to use as a lair. There is an old manor on what used to be a vineyard less than a day's ride east of my home. It seems it was recently purchaced by a Barron Hans von Grusstaben. I immagine the wine cellars would be an attractive resting place to a monster such as it. The clerk who helped me thought it exciting that a noble from the Rhineland might revitalize the winery there. I have a feeling his tastes would run toward red. Perhaps I should start drinking white now. I digress. How the mind wanders when you do not wish to confront your reality.
After my trip to the clerk's office and lunch I went to the library. The aide there gave me an odd look when I asked what books they had on vampires. He showed me to a dark corner where there were mainly stories and the like. I did find one book of worth that seemed to confirm what Father Gunter told me. This book was even written by a man of the cloth. I hope its information is correct. I decided to buy a second journal and use it to record my findings.
After an afternoon I had dinner back at my inn and took a walk around the city. My wife and I used to come here. She loved the hustle and bustle. And especially the stores. I would do anything to have her with me. I went past the cathedral, and the choir was practicing. I went in to listen and walk those holy halls. I wonder where is God in all this? Would He truly let monsters such as vampires exist? The stone saints gave me no answer and so here I return. To my lonely room. I think tomorrow I will go back and ask the priests for help. Maybe they will be as helpful as Father Gunter.
15 of May
I may have found some success! The cathedral houses its own library, and in it are many books on the supernatural. They have volumes chronicling various unholy threats that brothers of old have faced. There were books on witches, demons, ghosts, posessions, and many other things, but most importantly, vampires.
I spent the day reading and recording. I am curious about the other subects in the library there, but for now I feel my feet pulling me back to the road. I want to go home and make arrangements to destroy this creature which killed my family. Tomorrow I will travel the road to vengence.
16 of May
I have made it home and already begin my preparations. I have gathered the crusifix of my wife, and a silver knife she would use for the table when we had company over. The reading suggested that they will shy in the face of holy objects and they are harmed by silver. Other than silver and wood through the heart it is said that nothing hurts them.
I have prepared a special gift for this Barron: stakes carved from the cradle of my daughters. They both grew up in the same cradle as I did. My father said he and his father carved it when my mother found out I was coming. I slept in it, my daughters slept in it, and now I will put this monster to sleep with it. I only hope this will help their spirits rest easier.
I also filled several small bottles with holy water from the church, but I hope to find the monster asleep and kill it quickly. I wish to start now, but it is in the afternoon, and Father Gunter wisely forced me to wait. I will start out early tomorrow morning so that I may reach the manor before sundown. I hope I will write again in this journal.
18 of May
That did not go as I envisioned. It would appear that vampires do not sleep undisturbed during the day. They can awake just like any other sleeper. And crosses do not hold them immediately at bay. I will chronicle my venture here for future reference.
I arrived outside the manor at noon. I wished to discover any servants of the beast I may have to get through. I did notice one large man who seemed to be cleaning the house. I thought it odd to see a man doing the work of a maid. But as the sun began to set the man left the house. I took that as my opportunity to sneak in before the monster awoke and kill it. My first instincts were right and down in the cellar amid all the barrels was an ornate coffin.
But when I opened the coffin things stopped going as I envisioned. My hands were empty of weapons. My first mistake. I had an oil lamp in one hand and used the other to open the coffin. In the future I will put my light down and open coffins with weapon in hand. When I opened the coffin the vampire looked as I expected, except he opened his eyes as I fully opened the coffin. He immediately grabbed at me, suggesting that vampires do not have any disorientation when waking, and only the worn state of my coat saved me. It ripped in his hand as I pulled away in reflex. My second mistake was fumbling for the crusifix. Again, I should have gone for a weapon. In my mind I seemed to have fixated on the idea of staking the immobilized vampire, not a live fighting one.
While the monster did flinch away from the cross, it did not send him fleeing and cowering into a corner. It was a definite irritent, but he was able to aproach enough to slap it out of my hand. In the chaos of the moment, I couldn't be sure, but I think I heard the searing of flesh as his hand made contact with it. I wonder if physical contact with them doesn't burn as holy water does. It would make sense.
At that point he came at me again and I dropped the lantern to grab at the holy water. I managed to get a bottle opened as he grabbed me again, and the holy water did burn him, though I only managed to get a bit of it on his face as we fought. I will have to make sure to use a wide mouthed bottle or even something that will send the water out in a directed stream. The burns on his face were enough for him to flinch backward from me into the fire that started when I dropped the lantern. The oil had spread and made a large fire on the floor, and as the vampire stepped into it he did catch flame. This panicked the demon and as he thrashed around I managed to stab him with the silver knife. At this juncture the door to the cellar burst open and the man came down the stair carrying a young woman, bound and gagged. He dropped her upon seeing his master in flames and ran to help. I lashed out at him, wanting to let the monster burn. I hit him squarely in the leg with the knife and he stumbled into the fire along with his master. Unfortunately, the knife was wrenched from my hand and went with him. He landed in the fire, but never screamed. The thought of that is now unsettling. I saw the vampire fall to the floor, and by this time the flames had spread to the roof of the cellar and many of the barrels around us. I ran for the girl and managed to drag her up the stairs and out the door before the fire trapped us in with the dying monster.
I emerged singed, shaken, but largely unhurt. I saved a woman from becoming the monster's next meal, and stopped his servant. I feel like I accomplished a great good tonight. I also feel I succeeded more due to luck than my own skill or preparations.
I tell you the sunset that evening looked magnificent behind the burning manor. A blood red sky to reflect my mood, I suppose.
The return trip to town was silent. I let the woman ride the horse while I lead it. She was terrified, but did not want to talk it would seem. She did tell me where her house was, but that was it. She lived in a farm not too far from the road that took me home. I left her at the door, not wanting to have to talk to anyone in her home, though I did hear a man's voice as I left. Perhaps her husband. Maybe a father...
If only I had been able to save my own daughters.
On the trip home I did decide one thing. I will continue this. I have seen that the evil of legends is real. No one sees it, no one cries out against it. How many others have suffered to it and denied what it truly was, letting it get away to strike again. How many families have been ripped apart by evil that could have been stopped if only someone saw it for what it was? I will make this my mission in life. I will use my estate's money to fund my continuing revenge against the monsters that would make good people suffer.
There is evil in this world, and I will hunt it.
