Dr. Crocus Sativus' Journal
Block 1, Op, 7230
5th Celop—After receiving the news of Jasmine's condition, I decided to talk to Van Hellebore myself. I am a scientist, a doctor, and because of this I am open to all possible views.
He looked like such a lonely, old Flora, but showed little satisfaction in my presence. It was only when I spoke to him that life lit up in his magnificent eyes. "Your aura differs from most doctors I've spoken with. However, they were there for my 'unstable' mental health." From what Jasmine told me, I tried to be cautious with my responses.
"Theoretically, wouldn't everybody have a different aura? But that isn't what I'm here for."
"You are here about the case to I presume?"
"Well, if the Flora we have locked away is related to the case, then yes."
"Who?"
"Miss Kousa. Have you heard of her from behind the bars of your cell?"
"No, I did not." His eyes narrowed at the jab. "But I read about it in the case file Miss Dichtoto showed me. I know what it is and how to deal with it, but no one wants to listen to an old man blab."
I sat down next to him to study him further. "I will listen."
"You will hear, but will you listen?"
"I will do both."
He half smiled and replied, "Vampires."
"Vamp-what now?" I have never heard of vampires despite the amount of research and reading I've done over hundred of years. Perhaps these are being's lost to the minds of the sane and the ink of our scientific scripture.
"They are Flora striped of the gift of life and handed the misery of false consciousness. They must feed on the blood of the living, for the sun's strong rays illuminate the empty pit of their souls. The turned are more likely to survive in sunlight, but burn easily. They are more adapt, so they bring their leader food and servants. At first, the Black Dahlia hunts her own meal. Once she has enough "siblings," she stays in the solitude of her sylvan home. I've followed her, tracked her, and noted the traceable patterns in her migrations."
"Oh my, you are knowledgeable about this topic. How is it that no one knows what you do?"
"Because I've experienced it first hand. As you can see my body is not holding up as well as it could. Being trapped in a prison for 30 years does not help me either. I followed the Black Dahlia since the dawn of Floral creation, and she's always loomed in our shadows."
"You had the strength to live through 7230 years of our evolution?" I was astonished. Elders such as himself are rare. Those we've identified are respected and given special facilities.
"Aye, I missed the evolution of specialties. Before you question my seemingly spiritual abilities, such as acknowledging your aura, understand that I've had time to perfect the gifts I was initially given."
"Excuse me sir, but we are running off on a tangent here."
"Oh, pardon me ma'am. What else do you want to know?"
"How does one stop a vampire?"
"A stake to the heart is enough to kill the turned, but you need more for the boss."
"A stake to the heart would kill anyone."
"What would kill anyone, would not kill a vampire. The stake must we carved in the shape of a cross. I am not certain why, but it must be related to human culture. For the swifter head vampire, one must drench the stake in garlic juice and holy water."
"What's holy water?"
"It is water that has been purified and blessed by the hand of the Creator."
"The Creator doesn't do anything for us."
He groaned, realizing my ignorance. "It's not the literal hand of the Creator. I recite words from a human book with a hand placed over the water. I've gone and blessed entire bodies of water in an attempt to ward her away from society."
"Do you think you could diagnose Miss Kousa?" I responded after taking a break to think.
"I could if I was not trapped in a prison cell."
"I could bring you."
"Would you?"
"I would as long as you respect that you will be brought back here."
Once he consented, I released him. He rubbed his wrists and straightened his back. It popped and he groaned at the pleasurable release of discomfort. I kept him close in my sights as I led him to the cell of Miss Kousa. After the previous incident, she was moved into a special cell built to subdue her. It was a thick glass cube decorated with table, a chair and a bed. A single blanket, which she converted into a tent, protected her fair skin.
"What a fine specimen you have caught!" She snarled at him from her shelter. "And feisty. Did they send you my stake from evidence?"
"No, we just revived the files. Wait, you want to kill her now?"
"Be patient."
He ordered me to take the legs off the lonely bed. Miss Kousa was quite unhappy, but appeared to be too weak to fight against my actions. Next, I removed the bayonet off of a riffle left by a guard. Van Hellebore took a silent hour to carve the legs into a cross-shaped stake similar to the one diagramed in the case file. The jagged edges flowed into a pointed cone. Just the sight of the thing horrified Miss Kousa. She hissed and backed into a corner as Van Hellebore entered the cube.
"Greetings Miss, my name is N. Van Hellebore. We are here to ask you a few questions." I was motioned to join him, so I made sure to close the door tightly behind me. "To start, who turned you?"
"The master turned me!"
"Does master have a name?"
"Master is master!"
"Dr. Sativus could you please hand me that cup of water?" I grabbed the glass off the table. It was evident that she did not drink it because of the heat radiating from the cup's exterior. About half of the water had already evaporated and she looked deprived of sustenance; her lips were cracked and her tongue looked heavy in her mouth.
Van Hellebore held the glass firmly in one hand and placed the other over the top. He uttered words from an ancient language that set Miss Kousa further over the edge. Her pointed nails dragged across the glass walls of her containment creating such an unpleasant sound.
"Okay Miss Kousa. I will ask you again. Who turned you."
"Master is master!"
Without hesitation, Van Hellebore dipped his fingers into the cup and flicked thick droplets of what I assume to be holy water onto Miss Kousa's face. She responded with an agonized yelp. A fit followed as she clawed at her face in an attempt to relieve the pain. Never before had I seen normal water burn a Flora's flesh. I do not know what Van Hellebore did to the water, but I watched him closely and saw no physical tampering. He was doing a swell job proving his case to me. If only Jasmine was well enough to see this spectacle. Perhaps she would be less bull-headed.
"Who is your master, Miss Kousa!"
"Short, Short, Short!" She shrieked. He looked at me and I shrugged. I did not know anybody by that name.
"Who is Short?"
"Short is master!" Bloodstained tears ran dow her once smooth flesh. "She order me to call her Miss Short. First name, I can't say."
"Good." Her eyes followed as he set the cup down. "Now, where can I find Miss Short?"
She sucked in a sharp breath and bit her bleeding lip. "Already said! She not believe. Will not repeat. Make master angry!"
This time Van Hellebore splashed the entirety of the holy water into her face. The liquid, to her resembling the affects of acid, seeped into her self inflicted wounds. Her voice was deafening and cracked. With no skin left to tear, she began to rip the blonde curlettes from her scalp. Her strength was great enough to leave fat bulbs on the end of each loose strand.
"Southern forest! Southern forest! Master live in southern forest!"
"Thanks for your help my dear. In return, I shall relieve you of your duty to your master." Van Hellebore threw her the ground and gripped the stake tightly in his shaky hand. "After all you are of no use to her anymore. Your face could never ensnare the lust of a male."
When Jasmine wakes from her rest, she will be infuriated to find that Miss Kousa is dead. Not only twice dead, killed once by her master and again by a "dangerous" convict, but covering the walls of the glass cube.
Van Hellebore offered to help me discard the body, but I wanted to examine it further in my lab. By the time I came back from returning him to his cell, the greenhouse-like effect of the cube caused her body to smell. The rotting flesh was further enhanced by 30 years of advancing decay.
My examination matched that of Dr. Cypria notes. I will not include them in my journal because I have already written them in my coroner's notes. The only point of interest is that her DNA is nothing special, yet appears to have the deterioration of a Flora dead for 30 years. I will relay my findings to Jasmine as soon as work of her waking is brought to me.
Dr. Crocus Sativus
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