COMPLETE! The Wasteland. A woman screams in the night. Spotlights flash on a pile of dust in the desolate patch of land that lay just beyond the tall crosses that picket the boundary of Encampment R-34. A group of curious students leave their bunkho...
The date matters not, as time no longer has meaning. I am bound by the rising and setting of the sun, but in weakness, not in age. Since last I wrote, much has taken place. Through blood, I am now the servant of Dracula. Kumpan, newly dead, will accompany me to Styria, and to you all. He has changed, this gypsy. Stricken in fear of what we have become and disremembering his own desires at each wakening, he performs the sign of the cross on his chest in hopes that he may yet save his soul. This is not of my own interest.
As my service and loyalty, it is no longer to the army of Hungary, but to that of Dracula. I have done to others what has been done to me. The transformation is wondrous. Our numbers grow. Dracula returns to his homeland with these changed men as protectors. Yet he pledges that no subject is as important to him than I. He has instruct'd that I return to Castle Klatka to deliver my coffin in the proper way and to settle my affairs. To what end, we shall see. Perhaps a rebirth of the village is in order.
I feel my inner self changing to be as him. I am terrified. I am elated.
O'er the grave, Ezzelin de Klatka, Eques.
FROM CHRONOSCOPE — letter discovered unopened at a dig site for the ruins of Castle Klatka at the foot of the Carpathian Mountains
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