Something on the air disturbed Caine. He sniffed like a hound after game, and then snarled about something being familiar. He readied his weapon and bounded off. I took after him, close on his heels. Feeling his rage, I told him to keep his wits, stay aware of himself.

“I didn’t come here for fucking games,” he told me. “I came for answers. And I will get my fucking answers!”

How could I not commit myself utterly to his cause? Answers. Explanations for what we have faced, and what we are still facing. I want them more than anything. He does, too. In that, we have common cause above and beyond the obstacles and distractions we tackle along the way. Then the truth of his curse was made clear. We were ambushed by wolves

Mother,

Where do I even begin? Reason would say I begin at the beginning, but finding a vampire spawn hidden beneath a church suddenly feels like the least important part of the things that have happened. Which is telling in and of itself. I should have set ink to paper to put it all down last night, but I couldn’t stop my hands from shaking. Wallach sat with me for a time, asked about how I was managing. I didn’t really know what to tell him, or what I shouldn’t. I was thankful for the comfort he offered, truly. But it’s difficult enough to write the things I think and feel to you.

Vampires are real.

Never has so much happened in a single day. I’m exhausted and weary. We all are. The neverending twilight-like gloom does little to help. I am going to note as much as I can before I stagger off to find where I shall fall for the night.

Undeath is a plague on this place. It is everywhere. Leaving that house of death, we took to the road and chanced upon a rider, von Holt. Wallach seems the most apt to speak to people without blundering it, leading him to naturally take the lead. It is amusing, though, to watch Caine whisper directions in the unblinking man’s ear. The arrangement works just fine for me.

It is the same day as the previous entry. We have some two and a half hours before midnight.

Gustav and Elisabeth Durst were disturbed and lost people. It’s difficult to say who is to blame for what, or just exactly what happened in this house, but I have some guesses. I think Elizabeth is responsible for the course here. In her bid for immortality, she sacrificed her unwanted child. Whatever the ritual, I can only assume it was either botched, or her offering simply wasn’t enough.