“1912?” I whispered in shock, staring at the weathered page upon which my own handwriting lay; I knew I was old, but I had no idea I was that old! 

"You wrote all of this, Gabe," he explained. "You've been alive for well over two centuries!"

"Everyone in Asylum has secrets," I remarked with profound dismay. "What are mine?"

"Just read the journals, man," he calmly replied. "Start on this page; I'll bring us up some cookies and tea; don't worry, I'm here all night."

"Thank you, Eric," I said, coming to tears. "I have a feeling I'm going to need your company for the next few days, if you don't mind." 

"Count on it!"

When he stood and left the attic, I shut my eyes for a moment to gather my nerve and then began reading.

"November the 13th, 1912

It's a cold, rainy evening here in the mountains of Western North Carolina. I've been sitting up here in my attic pondering the events that led me here to a new family; Johnathon and Lorna Weatherstone have treated me very well after the traumatic events I've had to endure to make it to America.

They confided in me, however, that I would have to undergo a procedure to suppress a certain portion of my memory, and I didn't need to ask why; I met the Founder!

He came to see me, to see how I was adjusting to my new life here. I cannot describe him, even in my private journal; I can't risk documenting anything of him other than this: I see, now, why every monster on this planet fears him; being in his presence terrorized me; I fainted from weakness just being under his gaze, and I will be happy to have the memory of him placed in whatever inaccessible region of my brain he established so long ago; the nightmares, after meeting him, have been awful!

But, I must commit to this journal the events that led me here, just in case the procedure suppresses more memory than it should; I don't want these events lost to me forever.

After the Inland Siren attack of 1834, a secret Romanian initiative was proposed to collect individuals displaying what the legislation called “Divergent traits from those established by nature and by the annals of experimental research”.

The initiative was ratified, however, when a lupine attack occurred in the village where my adopted parents, Vincent and Mary Weatherstone, lived.

I was much the same way then as I am now: spending much of my time secluded in the loft of my then father’s stables, deeply immersed in my projects.

I wasn’t, at all, liked by the people of the village because of my odd physical traits. They called me ‘strigoi’ and refused to have anything to do with me. But, my parents took me to Mass every Sunday, regardless of their disapproval; they made it clear to the villagers that they were not ashamed of me.

I made my own clothes then, preferring, as I do now, black velvet and cotton to contrast with my ghostly pale complexion; this, naturally, made me look all the more frightening to the villagers whose rustic and colorful fabrics always adorned their stout, tanned, weather-beaten persons.

I was neither stout, nor weather-beaten, but being that I was the oddest looking person in that deeply superstitious Romanian village, I was bound to attract all sorts of dark gossip, and even perilous accusation.

The night of the attack, I was working in the loft when the awful howling that used to torment me in England erupted for the first time from deep inside the Carpathian forest that surrounded the village; the lupine had come, and they had taken a victim!

Soon after, my parents quickly climbed up into the loft with me; they were strapped with rifles and carrying ammunition. Father locked the floor access shut and both of them stood ready to shoot anything that wrenched it open!

The howling went on for a long time before it faded. But then, the sound of snarling, along with the sound of clawed, padded feet softly and quickly pelting the cobbled walkway outside indicated that some of the lupine creatures didn’t have enough to eat, and they had left the protection of the forest, and their pack, to look for a meal within the village.

They passed our house and invaded our neighbor’s house, butchering and devouring the family that lived there; I pray the procedure erases their screams from my memory forever!

When the creatures were through, they discovered our scent and crossed the path to the stables we sheltered in; they began to climb the exterior walls, looking for a way in. My parents shot two of them through the wall and sent the rest jumping away and fleeing back into the forest, snarling and barking in rage.

The next morning, father intended to show the two dead monsters to the villagers, but someone had disposed of them before dawn, and both my parents knew why; someone in the village was trying to inplicate me for the murders!

Father carried me to the chapel where the mournful and angry villagers had gathered to discuss their plans. The crowd was instantly hostile toward me when we arrived but my parents wouldn’t let anyone touch me, as they were both still armed with the rifles that felled the two lupine! The villagers insisted on burning me, to which my parents took aim and vowed to kill anyone who tried!

They told the villagers what it was that came upon us the night before and assured them that the lupine would return, looking for revenge. Father told them that we were leaving the condemned village to settle somewhere else. Before we departed, they gave their recommendation to everyone present to abandon the region while time remained.

When we returned home, I turned on the radio in my room as I began packing and I heard something astonishing; the lupine attack was far more widespread than we thought: more than two thousand people were killed across the country that previous night, the majority of whom were slain in the capital city of Bucharest; it was an unprecedented event!

My parents came in and sat with me on the bed as a government official claiming to represent an independent martial body began detailing the Crimson Initiative, the once secret legislation to find and acquire anyone displaying unusual traits. The director of the initiative urged the population to turn over any family member possessing physiological anomalies to the mobile unit officers that were on the move at that very moment. He said they were to be taken and studied at comfortable facilities to determine how to “cure” them.

Apparently father suspected something amiss and contacted a man named Marku who came later that day and informed my parents that the initiative was not as benign as the director made it out to be!

According to Marku, everyone possessing divergent traits was to be taken for experimentation, then exterminated!

Marku, my father explained, was my secret protector. He had been employed by the Founder to look after me while I was in Romania. He had contacts in King Carol’s government and was able to acquire the documents that proved the initiative’s true purpose.

He told us that the director knew about the missing documents and had placed roadblocks at every exit point in the country to find, and kill, the persons responsible for taking them.

My parents made plans to get me out of Romania and deliver the documents to the Founder who was, at the time, engaged in controversy over the event and was undertaking the mass collection of the migrant lupine packs to resettle them in one of his monster preserves, so we couldn't count on him to help us get out of the country; our escape would not come easy!

When I learned, however, that we would have to make our way to the border through the forest, I was devastated! The trauma of hearing our neighbors perish in such horror and agony left me unwilling to venture anywhere near the shade of the trees! But, my father insisted, telling me that Marku was well able to protect me.