The following are the entries we managed to salvage from the ruined Journal of a Testament C. Graves. We believe that this may be a clue to the strange and gristly occurrences that happened several years ago in the town of Bellrath. To this day we have never reached a fully plausible explanation. All witnesses aside from a Lilith R. Cross, who was determined mentally unsound and sent to the Bellrath asylum are either dead, or missing including the author hereof.
Let me tell you about “Madness,” because this is all about that, and I can tell you what true madness is. It’s having the only person that ever mattered to you since you were eight years old suddenly taken from you. The one person who cared, who saw you, who promised they would never leave. GONE! Three months since the crash, three months since they put him in the ground. Every day, every minute, every second spent thinking about what should have been. Why he’s gone and you’re still here. How everything you touch crumbles and turns to ash eventually. Another casualty that YOU’VE caused. It’s slipping back into that dark void of loneliness and despair that was all that you knew before you found each other. “Madness,” is trying to accept that you now live in a universe where he no longer exists and finding that no matter how you try to swallow that bitter pill it just won’t go down. “Madness,” is when you finally start listening to the whispers you’ve heard you’re entire life, when they start to make sense. When one day they suddenly come together and hand you the solution on how to fix everything. They tell you “this is how you can make him whole again.” I’m not going to walk you through it though, I’m not going to serve you up the details. I will not explain the true cost of acquiring this dark knowledge, for I hope to spare whoever finds this journal the same fate that awaits me. I pray that none of you ever know the kind of pain and desperation that would drive a person to do this. I will however warn you that if you find yourself here. At the lowest of the low, that once you go down this path there is no going back, and you must be prepared to accept full responsibility for all the events that will occur as a direct result from your actions. In fact I recall that someone once said “The road to Hell is paved with good intentions,” and after everything that I’ve done here, I am pretty certain that whoever invented that old adage was indeed speaking from personal experience.
Never did I think that I’d be back here. Back in old house where I spent my childhood, but then again so many other things have happened that I couldn’t have ever expected to foresee. I stand here now in the gloomy front parlor with it’s dark wood paneling, and musty carpets the color of blood. Most of the furniture is gone, except for a decrepit armchair and a few soot covered lamps. The fireplace crumbling into itself. As a child I remember that I hated setting foot in this room, especially after nightfall. It was always too dark in here for my liking, and at times I imagined I could see things lurking in the shadows watching me with glowing red eyes and sharp teeth. To this day it still leaves me feeling unsettled. Although, the coffins now strewn about the the room surprisingly do nothing to add to this unease. The pine box, in the middle of the room where the coffee table once sat, contains the remains of my deceased beloved. In the other six coffins are the rejected pieces of other bodies. All the parts I found too unsuitable for my abominable creation. For a series of days and nights now, I’ve been working on him. I’ve lost complete lack of time. It may even be weeks where I’ve been suturing him together, replacing his decomposing limbs, and assorted body parts. Feverishly trying to repair the scorched flesh, reassembling this broken husk so that it may contain life again. It shouldn’t be long now.
I hadn’t realized what a complete shut in I’ve become until I sensing a chill in the air I finally stopped what I was doing and looked at the calendar today. It’s the end of September already. Seems like time just flew by.
“No rest for the wicked” I told myself and set back to my task.
At first I thought it was the lack of sleep making me imagine things. I thought I heard my name, but then shortly after I heard it again.
“Tessa” It called out louder this time, and I realized it was coming from within the casket that I was leaning over.
I looked up from his chest to his face and saw that his eyes were now open. Starring at me. No trace of their once brilliant blue remained. Just two black orbs reminding me of an abyss, a startling contrast to his unnaturally pale skin. My breath caught in my throat when they focused on me.
“You’re awake!” Was my startled response.
“Tessa” he repeated my name again even louder this time in that unmistakably familiar voice. His eyes never leaving mine.
“What is it?” I asked glancing away to break the uncomfortable gaze.
“I think I can hear my heart beating.” He replied softly.
I frowned, in confusion and reached out brushing away the long raven colored locks. Then I leaned over the edge of the casket and brought my ear to his chest. I could hear a faint skittering and scratching sound just below the surface. I sighed.
“I’m afraid that’s not your heartbeat, it’s just some insects. Besides, I haven’t really put anything into you yet.” he frowned. “Don’t worry, be patient. You aren’t finished yet.”
Another month has passed, and I’ve come so close, but there is still a piece missing. I though that I had used up all my tears months ago, but somewhere along the way I must have renewed my supply. I haven’t been able to stop crying for the past week. I know this is wrong, I know that the creature lying in that wooden box isn’t my beloved Christian, but it has his face, his voice. He even sings to me just like he did when he was alive. I guess I still find it soothing, because it makes the tears stop briefly. I can’t help but wonder if this things hands will feel the same in mine. It’s becoming cold out, I lit the fireplace and sat by it to warm myself, and as I stare into the flames I can’t help but wonder if that’s where I’ll be headed at the end of all of this.
I’m sitting by the fireplace again. He just asked me if I’m ever going to finish him.
“I’m in so much pain” he cried out.
I could only smile bitterly. “My love, we’re all in pain. That’s what most would say living is.” I continued to sit and watch the fireplace burn, filling the room with smoke and ash. My knees drawn tightly to my chest. I…I need to walk away from this for a while. I need to think without him there. Without the guilt. I need to figure out how to get the final piece of the puzzle. I hate to leave him all alone in the dark like this, but I can’t sit here another moment thinking about what must be done. I’ll return when I’m ready to take this final step.
It’s been 3 days and I’ve returned “home.” He’s begged me not to leave him again, He stopped short when he noticed the bloodstain on my white shirt. His eyes wide with concern.
“Tessa, You’re hurt!”
I smile. “It’s nothing, just a flesh wound. Nothing at all to worry about.” I assured him. “Now, close your eyes and go to sleep. When you wake up I promise you’ll finally be completed.”
He looked at me suspiciously but then eased himself back down onto the Satin lining and closed his eyes. I got to work immediately, all too eager to be done with this. I woke him a few hours later by planting a gentle kiss upon his lips. His eyes at once opened.
“You’re whole at last” and this time flash him a genuine smile.
He returned it, and sat up to gaze at his surroundings seeing them for the very first time. His eyes then at last settled back on me. His black orbs filled with blind adoration and chaos. It was at that moment that knew that I was “God” in his eyes, for I had given him life. I only hoped he won’t eventually come to know it as a curse. I was surprised when he lifted me up with ease and carried me off to what was once my parents old bedroom. He lowered me down slowly onto the mattress.
“You’ve been working so hard on me. It’s time for you to rest now.”
I tried to open my mouth to protest as I felt him climb onto the bed next to me and pull me into a an embrace, but I suddenly found myself exhausted. The weight of everything catching up to me and before I knew it my eyelids could no longer remain open and I drifted off into a deep sleep.
I don’t know how long I was asleep for, but I woke to him staring at me. Those black orbs filled with adoration. I felt strange and cold all over.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Nothing, I was simply wondering what you were dreaming about.” He asked with childlike curiosity. I can’t dream.
“It’s probably for the best.” I replied “Most of my dreams these days aren’t pleasant.”
He leaned over and kissed me, innocently at first and then with an urgent need. It caught me off guard at first and then to my surprise I returned it with just as much fervor. It happened so quickly and then before my brain could process it all we were joining in an unholy union. Bodies trying to desperately mesh together, old wounds tearing open, carefully placed sutures coming undone, fresh blood oozing through our bandages to stain the once clean sheets. Both of us too hungry to take any heed. Too much in need to care. Then it was over.
Once again he held me close and this time whispered “I am yours and yours alone.”
“I know.” I whispered coldly. The icy feeling growing and then I drifted once again to sleep.
I was not expecting the surprise that occurred today. I awoke to an angry pounding on my door and someone screaming haughtily to be let in.
“I know you’re in there Tessa! Open the fucking door, or I’ll break it down!”
I groaned to myself, “Dominic.”
Slowly I got out of bed.
“Do you want me to take care of him?” My creation asked.
“No, it’s fine. I’d rather no one see you, and besides he was your brother.”
“Not mine. You’re the only kin I have. My loyalty is only to you.”
I probably should have payed more attention to those words, expressed more concern, realized the warning signs, but I was distracted by the hostile man outside my door.
Dominic seemed a bit suspicious about some things, but it seems he came to share new details about Christians death. This concerns me. It seems there’s a lot more going on in this town than I had suspected. I agreed to help him look into it. My creation does not seem to happy. He’s concerned that I may get myself hurt. In truth, I don’t think I really care anymore.
I found out more about Christian, this town, and even myself. It’s been difficult though “X” as I now call my creation, doesn’t leave my side. He’s too devoted at times. I’m concerned. There have been some unexplained “accidents” as of late. If they didn’t correlate with people who I had a bad history with I wouldn’t be as suspicious. Perhaps I’m reading too much into things. I’ll update when I have more solid proof of everything that’s going on. I fear that X may not be the only one of his kind…
“X” has run off! I woke up and found him reading my journal. He was furious, he tore out all my past entries. All the ones where I wrote down what I found out about this town, and where I wrote down my suspicions about him. Then in a fit he ran off. I haven’t the slightest clue to where. Probably the same place he goes every night when he thinks I’m no longer awake. The past week I pretended to sleep. He had no idea that I knew he left. This is when he does it. This is when he kills. What the Hell have I unleashed? I probably should have stopped him as soon as I knew since I’m the only one who can, but I had more pressing concerns. I know in his child-like mind he thought he was “Righting wrongs.” I also fear for Dominic after X’s accusations. He’s become insanely possesive and jealous. I need to find time to stop him, but how do I destroy him when I can’t even find him? I can’t believe that I was so wrong and now the price for my foolishness is being paid in others blood. I’ve created a monster, or perhaps I’m the monster for eve thinking it was okay to play God.
Well, this was a surprise. Not at all how I expected things to end, but I suppose it’s fitting. There I was soaking in the old iron bath. Trying to suppress all the thoughts that had been gnawing at the back of my head and the hollow feeling tugging at my soul. Eyes closed, letting my pale blonde waves fan out in the warm, soapy water. I sat up and I can’t explain how I knew, but I did. I felt his presence even before I physically felt him come up behind me and put a hand on my shoulder. He had at last come home to me. I felt no relief or fear. For I am long past feeling anything at this point.
“ I’ve missed you.” He said
My response, only silence.
“I’m sorry if I’ve displeased you, Tessa. Let me make it up to you.” He said beginning to massage my shoulders as he use to. Before He became a murder and before I ceased to care.
“Not now, leave me.”
“I don’t care!” I said as I leaned forward and started to push myself up from the bath in annoyance. That’s when I felt it, that’s when I saw the water turn red. That’s when I heard the sobbing coming from behind me. I didn’t have to look. I knew what he did. I should have felt anger, or sadness, maybe even disappointment. I turned my head to look at him. Tears ran down his face. His dark eyes two wet pools of anguish. I didn’t ask “why.” I didn’t need to.
“I’m so sorry! He wept uncontrollably. “I never meant to hurt you! I just wanted you to love me! That’s what you made me for! I did it all for you! Why couldn’t you ever love me? Is it because I’m not really him?”
I closed my eyes for a moment. “No my dear, I’m afraid I’m the one who’s sorry. It has nothing to do with him. You see, “ I said standing up shakily to face him “ I couldn’t love you because I gave you my heart. I’m afraid it was the final price I had to pay in order to complete you.”