Samson cracked the book open. His headache started to return. He propped his back against the wall leaning the pages close to the flame. A small bit of purple liquid drained out of his ear onto the floor. He wiped his brow. The soft sound of a foot dragging could be heard in the distance. He began.

                                           January 27th, 1885

It has been three days since I left the train in Denver. I have been riding through the desert ever since. The trail has led us all the way down to New Mexico territory. The signs of Florentino have spread through the land. Homes destroyed, lives shattered, what a waste. I have been held up in a small town called Angel Fire since last night. Fitting name I feel, given our quest. We are waiting for a particularly vicious sand storm to blow over. The locals are more friendly to me than our friends in New Hampshire so that has been quite pleasant. I asked about her to the locals which prompted them to cross themselves and hide in their homes. I fear I should have brought more than just Morgan with me, as the extent of Florentino’s power is still unknown to us. The charred and mangled buildings tell me it is likely that she has been talking with one of the dukes. As of this point, speculation will likely get us all killed. I should let Morgan, sleep his eyes keep dropping and reopening. I will write to you again when I am closer.

                                                  Regards, Ruben

Samson turned the page and continued.

                                               February 22th, 1885

Passing through the Hawikuh ruins. Can you believe that Cornonado thought they contained gold? If he knew the truth he would have stayed in Spain. The ruins have been recently damaged, the ground has been churned up and the several dead animals have been found by Morgan. I miss the cool winter breezes and look forward to my return. The heat here is unbearable. I spoke with some of the Zuni, well more Morgan did. They were hostile at first but after we told them of Florentino, they let us view the land. One mother brought me her little girl. Her eyes had been burnt out. I did what I could but her eye sight was beyond repairable. I cried and said a prayer for them this evening. I don’t know which god they worship but I believe Christ loves all his creations. I do my best to keep my head clear when I am facing evil, but to do that to a child, it hard to even comprehend, let alone witness. I tried to give them one of my rosaries, but they wouldn’t accept. So, the prayer will have to do. We will find her; I promise you that.

                                                    Regards, Ruben

                                                     April 5th, 1885

Taking shelter in a railyard in the mountains of the Arizona territory. The locals tell me I am just outside the largest city on the rail line between Albuquerque and the California coast. The settlement has something to do with raising a flag on a pole or something just as trivial. So far, I am not impressed. The weather has cooled but the trail has not. One of the locals reported a rail line being stripped and melted. Two train cars were also set ablaze and the lumber inside was destroyed. They said the tracks and cars were fine during the day but that night they heard the howl. The howl that darkened our doorstep in Hanover. The next morning, they awoke to the massive destruction she leaves in her wake. I am now certain that she has been speaking with a duke and I have tasked Morgan with looking into this matter while I try to discover a way to stop this carnage. I am looking up to heavens as I write. I will say this for this settlement, the stars dance quite brightly. It is very lovely; I wish you were here to see them. It does my heart joy that we can see the same stars. I will write as soon as I can.

                                               Regards, Ruben

                                                May 15th, 1885

I have made it to the town of Yuma. We have taken shelter in the nearby army fort. The soldiers moved out last year leaving it a great place to start our operations. Morgan showed me the Indian school they built. It was well maintained; I am glad for the education we were able to give them. Though seeing all those little desks made me think back to Zuni and how I wish I could have done more. When I am blessed with children, I hope they don’t have to witness the horror these ones have. I regret to say that I am doubtful. Florentino has been here. The damage to the town was ghastly. If Mason Tobias is correct, then Yuma is the last stop on our journey. I am very relieved, this past year without you has been quite hard, to say the least. Once we put her back where she belongs, I will be taking the train and I will be back in Hanover before you know it. She usually comes out at midnight, so I am passing the time writing this letter. It makes me feel closer to you. Morgan has gone through the dukes. Bifrons, perhaps but I am not sure the amount damage he could have taught. I believe she has been talking with Marchosias, the fire spitting wolf. His destruction is never ceasing. I will say a prayer for you tonight as I know you will do the same for me.

                                              Regards, Ruben

                                                July 4th, 1885

The days crawl like the little centipedes that have made their home in my bunk. It has been over a month since our arrival in this godforsaken town. The sun blisters the skin down to the bone and the water is virtually undrinkable. Morgan has had it worse. His pasty white skin has turned a dark shade of red. Through all this we have not seen Florentino even once. I am considering making our way to the coast to perhaps come across her trail again. But given that we have used all our supplies here, it unlikely we could make to the California border before we perished in the desert. We are celebrating tonight though. It is the 109th year since this country became independent, and though mine is a holy quest, I will still stop and honor those who made the ultimate sacrifice to make us free. I miss you greatly, every day in the sun makes me wish for you more. Please say a prayer for me for me to be patient these next couple days, as I am growing restless and irritable in this heat.

                                                     Regards, Ruben

Samson kept turning, his mind heavily focused in the book. The slow scraping sound against the tile was slowly moving closer to the atrium.

                                                    August 19th, 1885

I am writing to you in good spirits. We have discovered Florentino. She has hidden herself under the earth. In an unholy cavern. Each dark corner was littered with the shreds of her victims. I do not wish to frighten you with tales of the horror, but she did not spare a soul in her slaughter. Morgan and I have begun the process to extract her from her nest. We found it was the flame spitting wolf who corrupted her soul beyond saving. I have sent letter to the Warden in San Francisco asking for advice on how to proceed. I find myself in prayer more often than usual. If I am going to go up against her I need all of my soul to travel with me. I feel soon I will be traveling home to see you. Please tell Mason Tobias that we will collect anything he needs to continue his research.

                                                    Regards, Ruben

                                                 September 10th, 1885

I wept with joy this morning. We have killed the beast. Months of planning led to an intense hunt, but we cornered the demon in her hole and executed her where she stood. The flame spitting wolf ascended out of her eyes. He released a fire from his gullet scorching the walls. But my dear, we were prepared, and like Moses, we struck the rocks, flooding the cavern. It was a sight to behold. The demon retreated back into his whore. With the speed of the wind we chained her to the wall. With a holy cry I cut deep into her throat. The demon tried his best to escape with the blood. But he was no match for the young Morgan who quickly poisoned the blood with a recipe of his own design. I need him to tell me how to make that purple poison. There was nowhere for the creature to run. He accepted his fate and returned to the dead husk that was now his prison. We ended the terror by bathing her in holy oil in a fire that would put Elijah to shame. I will be coming home my darling. I hope to be home before Christmas. Give my love to all your family. I will see you soon.

                                                      Regards, Ruben

                                                    October 21st, 1885

I am plagued by these dreams; nightmares to be more precise. The cavern, the terrible scrapes, the eyeless children, the screams, the howls, the burning and the butchering. She is there in my dream. Nevara. She is young, beautiful, she approaches me, unclothed and enticing. I do my best to rebuff her advances. I flee, down to the cavern with the holy fire but she follows. Every turn the down the tunnel there is another child with no eyes falling to their death in the darkness. I can’t save them. I can’t save the children! She approaches me with fire in her eyes and lust on her lips. I decide the only recourse is death and throw myself off the ledge. As I fall to my death, she pursues, her skin peeling off as she falls, laughing as she transforms in the burnt husk we left in the cavern. I awake before my death. But what does it mean? I cry out to God for guidance, but He does not answer. Did I make myself unworthy in those caves? Did I not do right by Him? I leave out of Albuquerque tomorrow. I hope the green trees will put these nightmares to rest. Be well.

                                                    Regards, Ruben

                                                November 12th, 1885

I am sorry my love but I can’t turn my back on this. These nightmares have been coming in full force as if some invisible hand is trying to speak to me. I must return to Yuma. Morgan is more than kind to travel with me. We left out of Albuquerque last I wrote and are heading back. We will likely make it Yuma before the end of the week. I don’t know what I hope to find but I do know what I hope to learn. Reach out to Mason Tobias, he needs to know the danger is not over. I apologize for my false promise of being home for Christmas. I want more than anything to be in your arms right now. The desert has grown weary on my soul and wish I had your lovely face to guide me through this darkness.

                                                  Regards, Ruben

                                               December 25th, 1885

I was right to return. The chains we bound to her to are shattered and the husk is gone. Morgan and I were too late. The town has become a ghost town, every soul, everyone is a burnt husk like her, but they are crying out to the heavens. Why!! What malice of being could bring about this bloodshed? She is lurking in the foothills, calling, mocking, in all hours of the night. I don’t think I have the strength to remove this demon from the earth. All I have learned is nothing when the monster cannot be killed. I don’t understand how she is alive when we did everything right. I have sounded the alarm to the lodges, she won’t stop until we are all dead. My love, I fear for you. I fear for our family. As God is my witness I won’t rest until I have eliminated this threat. I pray you are well.

                                                    Regards, Ruben

                                                   January 27th, 1886

My love. I almost couldn’t bring myself to write these words. I am grateful for Morgan. His unfailing loyalty is gift I do not deserve. It is done. We have secured her in a casket deep in the caverns where we first found her miserable existence. We cannot kill her, and we are powerless to stop her. But as in all things, the Lord does provide. We believe the soul of one who is righteous in the eyes of God may keep her at bay if that soul binds her to one physical location. I pleaded with God over this. Begging Him to take anything else from me. Sadly, though like our Savior and our fathers, sacrifices need to be made so that others may be free. Please find it in your heart to understand I am trapping my soul here with the demon for all eternity. I won’t let her hurt anyone else. Perhaps I am wrong, but I cannot chance that this horror may make its way to you. I wished I had held your face or kissed your neck one last time. I will hopefully see you in heaven my love. Until that day I will be waiting for you. I love you.

                                      Yours now and forever, Ruben

Samson wiped a tear from his eye. He wasn’t certain if the story was true, but he wished it was. He turned the page.

                                                   January 27th, 1891

It has been five years since I last saw my dear friend Mason Ruben Alcazar. A more righteous man there was not. Per Ruben’s final request we have built a church over the site of his battle. It is our goal that nothing disturbs this land and eventually it is swallowed up by the earth. The seal on the casket cannot be opened by anyone, unless they are seen as righteous in the eyes of God. I plan to keep his legacy going as long as I am able. Perhaps some day I will bring his son to this church. I wish Willow had told him before we had left on our quest. He would have been overjoyed by the news. I am making a note to all future masons to regularly stop by this church. Be vigilant in keeping this demon where she is. Let’s not make Ruben’s sacrifice be in vain.

                                        Regards, Mason Morgan Illiard

Samson closed the book. He looked up at the large swaying casket. He felt a twinge in his stomach and jumped up, making his way to the doorway. His heart was racing, he knew this was what Saint was looking for. He made it out of the doorway when felt the sharp pain return and he sank to knees, dropping the book as he did. The familiar sound of the scraping returned. Samson crawled toward the water, hoping he could escape as he did before. Before he made it to the first step, Saint’s long arm reached around his throat, lifted him into the air and pinned him against the wall. Saint’s toothy grin bounced off the light of the torch. He tightened his grip on Samson’s neck.

“Miss me?” He growled.