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February 18, 1894
I have begun this diary in hopes that anyone who finds it will tell my wife, Victoria, of my fate. It has been three weeks now that the beast that haunts my nights has continuously visited itself upon me. Each night it rakes my body more than before with its steely claws and leaves me laying in a pool of my own blood.
This morning, my manservant came to awaken only to find my pale body writhing in agony, it covered with the crimson of my blood filled wounds.
Save the claw marks gouged deeply into my flesh, I would surely fear that I am losing my mind as all I can hear are the sounds it vomited forth from its mouth as me attacked me over and over again. The horror of that sound, so wretched a sound it is, that it is like a heavy door being unlocked and opened over and over again.
Concerned for my safety, my manservant has asked for Doctor Whitaker to come with utmost haste and tend me but it will be two days before he will arrive.
Oh, how I miss my beautiful wife Emma. I have asked my manservant to send for her and he assures me that I will see her soon. I only pray I will survive till then.
February 19, 1894
Its serrated claws, still blood-stained with my blood from the night before, the hellish demon that has become my own private torturer returned once again to inflict pain upon and scream at me with its demonic voice.
In this visitation, the spawn of Satan pinned me helpless as it raked my arms with until I cried in agony as my own blood flowed forth upon the floor.
Content not with my loosing conciseness, the beast from perdition pulled me away from the peaceful darkness of sleep with the vile emanations from its mouth so that it may afflict itself upon a little longer.
Where is my beautiful Victoria? Has she too forsaken me?
Only the waking dreams of her tender touch gives me the strength to endure this horror.
Oh, god why has this terror been visited upon me?
Once again I have begged my manservant to send for her; but, I fear my pleas have fallen upon deft ears. The unreliable cad! I swear were it not that I require his daily attendance of my wounds I would dismiss him forthwith.
I know not how much longer I will be able to continue this horrible struggle with the demon. I fear I may lose my resolve to keep fighting should my dear sweet Victoria not arrive soon. My need to hear her sweet lovely voice grows greater with each passing day. Only my memories of her keep me from casting myself though the vale at death's door and into the eternal rest offered by the beyond. Soon, I must find some escape from that sound, that horrible, unceasing, inescapable, sound! Soon, I must find some escape from that pain. Soon I must!
February 20, 1894
It gives me no rest! Again my tormentor came to me spewing forth it foul noise as it tore into the flesh of my shoulders with its claws. All I can feel now is the pain it has left me with. I believe it does so just to remind me of what I must fear upon its return. And the pain, that agonizing pain, the agony is everywhere the demon's razor sharp claws pierced my flesh like molten hot knives carving and ripping at me as if I were but a piece of meat. And then there is the echo of that deafening sound still reverberating in my mind ... pounding inside my head. Now that horrid sound follows me everywhere I go and affords me no escape. Soon, very soon, I fear I will surely go insane if it does not stop.
February 21, 1894
My good and dear friend Doctor Whitaker came today to minister to my wounds. He he gave me an sweet elixir to drink to help with the pain. He assured me that it will help me sleep and will keep the demon away. His kind voice fills me with hope but I fear he does not understand that the demon waits until I am at sleeps door to strike. Still, his confidence is reassuring and I will try the elixir tonight.
February 21, 1894
My hands were covered in blood this morning from my battle with the demoness. It bleeds! It bleeds and I can kill it! I can almost see it now. It comes to me in the form of a woman and each time it comes to torment me; the sound grows ever louder. Why does this demon visit herself upon me? Why does she torture me so?
The doctor's elixir did not help me sleep but for some reason I can now almost see my tormentor. I have decided to continue taking the doctor's elixir in hopes that it will help me identify my tormentor.
February 22, 1894
To the sounds of mine owe screams did I awaken once again, but even they did not drown out the horrible sounds that are ever present with me. Only the pain where the she-demon has raked my body servers to remind me now that I am alive. Were it not for that, I would swear I am a resident of Hell itself.
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