Amarilly Belladonna Nicolai Diary - Harton 22nd
This beast has struck again. Eight villagers, including three boys, were found dead in the woods after not returning home. Their heads had been removed and placed in a circle, at the compass points. The ground was painted with their blood. The men were laid out, using their broken bones, to resemble a macabre diorama of the village. The boys were in the shape of a castle, the bodies torn and mutilated to form towers and walls. Every hand, all sixteen of them, was made into a compass needle pointing to a very specific place.
When I asked the villagers where it pointed, and what was there, they told me about the lord’s manor which had stood empty since my friends were last here, though recently the wood cutters had seen lights in the windows. I couldn’t believe they hadn’t told me about this sooner. They just made the sign of the evil eye, and spat upon the ground when I told them so. How could they not think this was important? Stupid people and their irrational beliefs!
I went up there during the day. I brought my whole arsenal, even wearing the leather pieces of armor to protect my chest, belly, arms, and legs. It took almost two hours to find it, though it was huge and could be seen from the valley below. The way was blocked by fallen trees and other natural obstacles. The villagers had done that years ago to stop anything else from coming to their precious homes.
When I arrived, I saw more of their handiwork. The manor had been burnt sometime in the past few years. Windows were smashed, and torches had been thrown inside. I pushed open the doors, and left them standing wide. Always leave your escape route open. I did a quick survey of the upstairs, and worked my way down. I tapped walls, checked for hidden passages. I found a few, but they hadn’t been used in years. On the main floor, there wasn’t much to find. It appeared the good people of the hamlet had also decided to take everything they could sell or use. I bet they didn’t do it when others were around though. That would have brought more signs to ward off the evil from the others.
I finally came to the conclusion that I must descend into the basement. It was dark and I brought out my electric torch. It lit the way well enough, though dust rose from my footsteps and clouded the air. This passage was unused, as was every other hall and room I had investigated. The wooden stairs, squeaking and groaning, would alert anything below to my approach, and I didn’t bother to try and hide my presence. The lower level was a maze of grey stone walls. Shadows shifted with my light, bouncing and looming as I moved it.
A room opened up before me, wide and tall, with rough stone columns lining the sides. Alcoves with statues showed between each set of pillars. At the far end I could see a throne-like chair with a female figure sitting in it. She sat with her legs crossed and dripped with gold and silver bracelets, rings, and necklaces, and very little else. I thought for a moment to hide but it was too late, she knew I was here. I walked forward as if I were expected, which I think I was.
She greeted me as I came closer, her voice somewhere between a purr and growl. I don’t believe she was speaking her native tongue, as her speech was heavily accented. Torches in sconces on each pillar flared to life at a gesture of her hand. The room sparkled with gems embedded in the walls which I hadn’t seen before that moment. With another motion I heard the sound of a distant door slamming, and another, and another, each sounding closer until the door behind me completed her show of magic.
I looked behind me, checking to see if I was actually trapped. The door shimmered in my electric torchlight, and I realized something important. Turning back to her, I told her she should leave or be destroyed. She shouted at me, promising tortures and other unpleasant things. She told me she would devour my soul and that my god could not protect me, I would be her plaything forever and unable to gain my ultimate reward in the afterlife.
I stared at her. The sight of her beauty was wavering also. I concentrated harder, willing myself to see what was beyond the glamour. I saw glimpses of tusks, folds of brown skin, huge eyes and nostrils. She was a charlatan and not showing her true form.
I announced that I am godless, do not believe in a soul, and that I could see through her tricks and deceptions. I stepped forward, drawing a knife from my hip, a long curving kris blade. I showed no anxiety, told her that fear also was a trick of the mind, and she wasn’t fooling me with her illusions. Most ghosts and demons don’t do well when approached this way.
In my research I believe I found what sort of creature she was, a rakshasa, a demon that uses trickery to cause fear and overcome their prey. They were known in the Far East, on the continent of Aeifa. I didn’t know why she was here, and I didn’t care. I would send her back or destroy her.
She screamed, and flung a ball of flame from her hand. It burst across my chest and for a moment I reached up to slap at the flames. I stopped myself. Breathing deep, I sighed, and lowered my hands. She was furious that I was unaffected. I was a bit surprised as the flames disappeared as quickly as they had come, but it proved what I had suspected. She shrieked again, and became dust. Swirling in a cloud, she swept behind her throne. The room had been dimming as I realized the torches were illusion, as were the gems in the walls and ceiling, and her guise. I could see her hunched form, running away in the fabrication of the haze she was hidden within.
I pursued her, but came up to a solid wall. Upon inspection I realized it was a hidden door, and she had locked it from the other side. I searched a bit more, and when I was sure I could not find a way to the other side I returned here to my room in the inn. I don’t think this is over though. I will return there tomorrow and finish this beast.