Chapter 18A Different Excerpt

From the book 'Nosferatu - Vampire Findings Through The Ages'

After thorough searching we managed to find a few texts in the burned down Silver Abbey. Through some manner of fate these scrolls were mostly unharmed save for some strange 'edits' done. The text is translated from Latin into English as true to form as we deemed possible.

The Brotherhood have asked me to keep my eye on another damned one. A Nosferatu as the Romans called them. As required I write all my thoughts, observations and findings on these scrolls so that they may be archived and used for research into our nocturnal brethren. I do wish to note that I do not enjoy these tasks. These creatures have habits that most people would not even torture themselves with in their sleep. And their blood-fests are a sight no mortal should ever behold.

This time I am sent to observe a single damned one. A strange thing for until now we had only seen them in covens. Stranger still is that he seems to live the life of wealth. Very unlike his kind. I've come to learn his name is (this part was scrubbed) on the main street. I have taken a room with the family on the opposite side. The Brotherhood aided them often and my quiet presence disturbs them not. I am glad, they leave me be in this forsaken task.

He is known as a Lord in this town and seems to hold feasts every night of great importance. Artists and poets seem to be welcomed on his doorstep but surprisingly still leave in the morning. What little I have gathered from them by asking is that they are well fed and the feasts are nothing but a place to discuss philosophy. Stranger still.

A week has gone past with little change. The only detail I might add is that there seem a few women invited to these feasts. Though their number is insignificant to the main guests, their presence does not go unnoticed by me. Also, the common household seems to run the house very distant from the outside world during the day. The gates are closed save for a messenger or bringers of food. This one intrigues me. I have yet to see any of the horrendous sins his brethren performed nightly. I have chosen a more dangerous path.

Though the order strictly forbids direct contact, the danger too big and the possibility of mind-reading of these damned ones a fair threat, I have managed to get with the feasts. This proved easier then expected. My writing skills were in high demand by the many poets without the ability to write. Deemed my simple curiosity as valuable in the open and fresh atmosphere present during those feasts. They spoke openly, almost proudly, reaffirming my belief they felt in no danger.

I brought no scrolls with me as I wished not to attract any undue attention from anyone. The gates were open almost as soon as the sun set, the guests pouring in over time and I mixed with them. The center hall, where all the guests had taken place, was quite large and lavishly filled with paintings on the walls and many fabrics I had rarely seen before. To my surprise there were some religious statues and imagery, I had only seen his kind shun all that had the touch of God.

As the host entered this was my first time to see him up close. (this part was also scrubbed) had dressed himself as a true host. Not too extravagant but in warm colors of Bordeaux over the otherwise white toga. Most in the hall did not notice his entry as they were wrapped in dialogs on various subjects with other guests. He rarely seemed to intrude on anyone but just flowed into some conversations with people about politics or art or religion and smiled graciously at their words.

He did, however, seemed to notice me. He gave me a polite nod but did not speak to me. It was as if he had said that he was open to talk to me when I was ready, in here I was free his eyes said.

The night ended gently as guests each went their separate ways and the house slowly closed up. I did not leave latest for again I wished not to arouse any suspicion. I returned to my chamber and wrote this detailed report of the evening. One question did remain in my mind. 'Did he know?'

During the day, in what little time I had left after sleeping and buying more scrolls and ink, I spoke more with some poets. They had many thanks for the Lord as he often payed for their words, even when not written on scrolls. I had little more time to investigate this for I chose to return to the feast that night.

I noticed not each feast was of the same scale as the night before. This one being smaller with fewer people but still open to whomever chose to be there. Again the arrival of the Lord went unnoticed mostly but he did walk toward me almost immediately. He frowned as he looked at me, a most peculiar act, but smiled in his final few steps toward me.

"Do your masters know you're here?" He asked in a warm voice.

Though all sorts of thoughts went through my mind but honesty seemed a better road. "They know not. I come here of my own free will and intrigue."

He nodded. "Then free you are." And left right after those words.

I chose to return to my chamber not long after that and wrote down his words as literal as I heard them. I knew not how he kept himself fed but he seemed to have chosen a path of care instead that of the horrors of his brethren. I decided not to intrude upon him any more.

I packed my scrolls and returned to the Silver Abbey, writing these last words of my report.

To add my thoughts. If we wish to better study them, we might even speak to (again this part was scrubbed) in honesty and learn from the source. Yet this is also a dangerous choice, since we would reveal our presence to them. If this is wise I know not.