Celeste has gone for a few days. I must write quickly, before she returns and I am slave to her enchantment once more.

I am her prisoner. She has turned me from all that is good and human into a creature that hides in the shadows of the night. I am a vampire. I have done terrible things. How I wish I could wash the blood of innocents from my hands!

I didn’t ask for this, and my lust for human blood is matched only by the agony in my own soul. If I even have a soul, because the witch probably took that from me too.

I look at the potion locked in my tower and marvel at Celeste’s genius and cruelty. In my deepest suffering I can look upon my key to freedom, reach out and touch it, yet know that I can never hold it in my hands. My hope is gone, washed away by the decades. There is no salvation for the wicked.

The hunger rises up in me once more. I must carry out Celeste’s order and retrieve a villager. My throat becomes parched with thirst for blood…

I will go now, to the village!