AUTHOR'S NOTE: This 2022 Halloween Special is a (fairly short) section of backstory of two characters who are yet to be revealed in Divided (this was written just after Chapter 1:13 was released.) I hope you will enjoy it. < 3
CONTENT WARNING: Death, a single mention of taking one's own life, bereavement, alcohol mention, terminal illness, a lot of mention of blood and some general horror-ish stuff, mentions of issues of consent, violence, mentions of war, mention of animal hunting...
Yup, not a happy Halloween this time. Who's surprised?
* * *
Windenburg, about 100 years prior to Act One of Divided
Oskar
My mother and father had built this house themselves, so my original plan to move out and leave Windenburg fell through. I decided that I will stay here for the rest of my life, refusing to leave behind their hard work. I never saw myself as the type to stay in my home town, but I can't just discard this house.
The more I think about our legacy, the more I start to think of my own. Both my parents did not pressure me into bringing them grandchildren, but plenty that knew me would always bring up the fact that I did not have a partner, nor a wife, nor a child. All of these people obsessed over 'the clock is ticking' instead of enjoying the time that they were granted.
Unfortunately, I don't have the finesse of my mother and father. It'll come with practice, but I'll have to keep working on it if I'm to make furniture and such. For now, it's just trying to carve decorative creatures. They won't make as much money as, say, a nice wardrobe or dresser, but I have to start somewhere. Then again, my parents' names are hard to live up to. Any new customers will be expecting whatever I make to be on-par with them, and that may take some time. There is plenty of time for that.
I'd received letters from our regular customers addressed to me, offering condolences and uplifting messages. The world is much kinder than many seem to think.
After a splinter or ten trying to carve a rabbit whilst eyeing one in the garden, I decide it's worth taking a nature break for some more inspiration. The cold, rainy autumn days are the best time to visit the bluffs for a little quiet reflection. It's popular in the summer, but such places are often bare in the autumn. People shouldn't be so afraid of a little rain...it dries off, doesn't it?
The coastal breeze carries the scent of wet soil and petrichor through the air. I always find it intriguing returning to these ruins. You notice something new every time. It is intriguing how some old, broken stone can hide so many secrets for so many years. Supposedly, it was an old Jacoban cathedral from over five hundred years ago. I was never keen on the Jacobans. Always found them rather terrifying.
Sometimes, being raised with an artistic mind can be more of a curse than a blessing. It'd been on my mind for a while now. Losing my mother, these ruins...the way things can last so long after they're gone. It had me a little paranoid. I had quite the name to live up to. I would ask myself, 'but what if I'm not successful?' What if I have nothing to leave behind like these ruins did? Then again, there's little time for negativity.
I notice something past the fog, vaguely human, in a dark, old-fashioned dress. Perhaps one of the drowned women from the stories, I think for a moment, but not likely. It seems I am not alone here today. I feel I ought to say something. Whether or not she wants to be alone, well, I suppose I'll find out.
"Good afternoon."
She tilts her head towards me, but her smile seems forced. I hope I haven't frightened her somehow. The strong winds blow her hair into her face, obscuring her eyes. She turns back towards the sea, watching the trading boats go by.
"What brings you to the bluffs?" she asks me. I don't recognise her accent at all.
"Space to think, I suppose. I have an artistic project of sorts that I'm working on. And yourself?"
She doesn't look towards me as she speaks. "I am new here. I was told by a Windenburg local that this should be one of the first places I visit."
There's something intriguing about her. Her dress looks exactly like one of the ones from my mother's old books on women's fashion.
Ask any Windenburg local, and they'll tell you of the bluffs for one of two reasons- the natural, chaotic beauty of them, or the eerie folk tales you tell your friends by candlelight. Ghosts of women who threw themselves into the waves. Descriptions of the draconic sea monster Emily, thought to be a vengeful reincarnation of one of those women lost to the sea, who ate the boats of fishermen... or so they say.
"Why are you here, anyway? And why so talkative? Are you trying to court me? Or do you have darker intentions up your sleeve?"
Goodness, so distrusting, so quickly? We've only just met!
"Of course not! I like to talk, is all. And I'd never dream of courting anyone. I never had any interest in it as a young man, and I definitely don't have any interest in it now."
It had always baffled everyone I met as to why I had little interest in such a thing. No-one was rude about it, but everyone always wondered what could be more important than having a wife and children. For me, plenty of things were more important than that.
"I...I apologise. I should not have been so brash. "
"No apology needed," I reply. Whether she knows it or not, I know there is a reason for such a reaction. "You were only being careful. You know, if you're new around Windenburg, I can suggest a few places to visit. There's the ruins of the old castle that are interesting. If you'd like, perhaps I can take you there at some point?"
Violeta
I didn't know whether to trust him. When I first met Eugen, who I was to marry, he was similar to this man. Seemingly caring and understanding, at least on the outside. Before this man had spoke, I'd accidentally taken him to be a woman.
I didn't have the heart to tell a stranger why I'd escaped to Windenburg. Eugen had long shown his true colours, and threatened to tell everyone about me. I did what I had to in order to survive, and I drank from him. His blood tasted awful, but I did not do it with any intent to turn him. No, he was the last man I wanted to live forever. I drank until he turned pale as winter snow, and fell limp to the ground.
At that moment, I knew I had to leave- fast. I fled and paid a stranger to jump on his carriage, finding myself here. So far, Windenburg is a beautiful place that, unlike many other modern places, has not entirely been lost to industry.
I feel as if I should take this man's offer up on showing me around. After all, he doesn't look like he could take me in a fight if it came to it. I wish it weren't like this. I wish all of my interactions with a man weren't a case of whether or not I could escape from him if he tried to do harm to me. For now, I had lodging at a public house, so at least I had somewhere to stay.
"Okay. I'll keep in touch with you. But don't try anything. I have means to destroy you if I need to. What is your name?"
He freezes, and gives an awkward nod in response. "It's...Oskar. Oskar Nivelheim."
"A pleasure, Oskar. I'm Violeta. Violeta Vasile Nicolae."
He tells me long-winded dramatic stories about the legends surrounding the bluff, including a giant man-eating sea monster and ghosts of drowned women that haunt the area at night. I actually think I'm going to enjoy it in Windenburg.
* * *
[Violeta's letter to Oskar, one month later]
Oskar,
I hope you are well. I am still living in the lodging at the Shrieking Llama public house, but it is comfortable. I have so far been to the library and around the city, though the city is a little crowded. I much prefer the rural area, but I feel as if the countryside is a dying place, don't you? If you have time, it would be good to meet you again.
- Violeta.
[Oskar's letter to Violeta]
Violeta,
Good to hear you are settling in! I've been hard at work with the woodworking table. So far I've made a dragon, a rabbit, and an elephant. I don't know if any of them are any good to sell just yet, but if you like any of them I could let you have one. You'll have to pay a visit someday.
Meeting up again would be wonderful. I think you would like the Windenburg castle ruins. Let me know when you'd like to go, I have all the time in the world at the moment.
- Oskar
Oskar
Violeta and I had kept in touch with letters. We hadn't spoken much about ourselves. All I'd mentioned was trying to take over my father's business, and that I was in my mid-to-late thirties. She didn't mention her age, but she seems to be older than me. I still wondered what had happened for her to come to Windenburg in the first place. She seemed defensive. I wondered who had done harm to her, but thought it better not to ask.
It's taken us over an hour to take a walk around the entire castle ruins, but she seems to enjoy it. It had been ruined hundreds of years ago, supposedly during some kind of old-age war.
"The more I think about it, the stranger it seems. One day standing proudly, and the next being nothing but crumbled rock...It's odd to think that someday, the same will likely be of everything still standing right now. I think we take the passage of time for granted sometimes."
Violeta doesn't say anything at first, staring at the ground in quiet reflection. "You don't worry about these sorts of things?"
"Not at all," I reply. "All I care to do with my time is enjoy it. I get tired of the pressure. Having children, getting married, so on and so forth...I don't want any of that."
"Oh? Well, what do you want, then?"
"Oh, quite a lot," I respond. "Going to Selvadorada, going to Sulani, learning the art of swordfighting. Maybe build a wardrobe, or a dresser, or a shed or something. Or even carve a wooden statue of someone iconic, perhaps...finding the sea monster Emily, beekeeping, mastering chess- oh! I could make a chess table, actually. Get a pet or two. A cat and a dog, maybe. Teach the dog how to sit and play fetch and play dead. Teach the cat how to not knock my woodwork masterpieces off the table. Learning another language, maybe. I'd also love to write a book on arcane history. It's something I'm very passionate about..."
Violeta
It's hard not to be a combination of envious and delighted about Oskar. I've lost myself with all of the time that is given to me. Time isn't precious if it's all that you have. I haven't changed much since the old days, really. It's always been the same- just surviving, yet Oskar thinks he can accomplish all of this in one lifetime. My only hope is that, someday, I will survive to a time where I can be taken seriously, where I can live the way Oskar does now. He doesn't seem to worry about anything, and looks to the future in a way that gives him pleasure instead of intense fear.
What did strike me as intriguing, is that he says he has an interest in arcane history. When I do strike up the courage to tell him the truth about me, I may not have to worry so much about his reaction. After all, Oskar seems to have a childlike curiosity about him. He's the sort to get excited about seeing a dog in the street.
"Is there something wrong, Violeta? You've seemed a little down since we met."
I figure my only 'friend' in Windenburg ought to know.
"I escaped a terrible...relationship, if you can call it that. I had to leave."
I've never seen him so furious since we met. I didn't know he had it in him.
"Ugh, the filthy wretch... Please tell me you gave him a taste of his own medicine before you fled."
I take a deep breath before I respond to him. "I did. I...I killed him."
His reaction comforts and surprises me. I never would have expected a man to understand.
"Good. He got what he deserved, then," he replies, with a sort of sick grin.
* * *
Oskar's house is as quaint and cosy as I expected. His parents built it with their own two hands, and that's why he never bothered to moved from Windenburg. The little woodwork animals he's been making are incredible considering he says he's 'not too great' at them yet.
He told me he'd make me whatever I wanted. I've always had a fondness for bears, and their dangerously-deceptive cuteness. Within two days, he'd carved an almost-perfect bear, and just for me. The last time anyone had made anything for me was when my mother sewed me a doll when I was very little...
"There aren't as many of us as there used to be, Oskar. Any decent vampire would only feed off animals or undesirable people, the same way any decent lycanthrope would do anything in their power to not cause too much harm on the night of a full moon. The trouble is, it is not always easy to exercise control. No matter how much we try to change ourselves, it won't be enough to stop us from being all killed off eventually."
He remains silent, wrapping his arms around himself, like a child trying to comfort himself.
"Do what you can to keep safe, Violeta. It would be a dark world without someone like yourself in it. I can promise you that."
It's not often that I meet anyone decent and friendly. It made being immortal much easier, but the heaviness in my heart returns. If I truly befriend Oskar, then all I will ever think about is losing him in thirty or forty years' time. When I was turned, I tried to cry in my parents' arms- not because of me, but because I would outlive everyone I ever came to care about. I couldn't cry. Vampires can't cry- there's no catharsis that isn't your fangs in someone else's neck. Remembering I was once a warm and caring soul is an alienating thought, but either way, I thank Oskar for his kindness before I leave.
* * *
[Violeta's letter to Oskar, six months later]
Oskar,
I apologise that my letters have not been so frequent. I have been working as a barmaid at the Shrieking Llama, and made enough money to rent a small house in the city. It's expensive, but thankfully I don't have to pay to eat. I mostly just drink the blood of the local vermin- not quite the same as human blood, but it'll do.
I do hope you are doing well. The first object I unpacked was the bear that you made for me. He now sits proudly atop the mantelpiece. I hope you are doing well with your woodworking, and I hope everyone else loves it as much as I do.
Hoping to hear from you soon,
- Violeta
Oskar
I've been trying to settle myself reading Violeta's letters, but I feel awful for not responding. I even had to cancel my first commissions for clients due to illness. I felt terrible in every possible way, spending most of my days bedridden or being sick. As much as I despised visits to a doctor, I arranged one and explained everything. The young man I'd spoken to was fairly young, and said that the clinic would send a letter once he'd come to a reliable conclusion with the others. His own speculation was that it was nothing too much to worry about, that it'd pass.
Then the letter arrives. My excitement melts away when I realise it isn't from Violeta...and it only gets worse as I carry on reading. What's written on the page s nothing like the response I was expecting...nothing at all.
All Violeta and I had discussed of late was our plans for the future. Since she'd met me, she'd even started making her own- move out into a new home, maybe get a pet, maybe learn a new skill.
All our talk of the future and of legacy crumbles in this moment. I'd been showing her around the ruins of the old castle and cathedral, gleefully thinking back to what they must have looked like in their day- standing tall and proud. No-one back then would have ever thought that, one day, they'd be reduced to naught but nostalgic rubble.
Three months at most. My musings on the ruins don't seem so hard to believe now. No matter how sure you are of the future, you can be severed from it anytime, by anything.
There won't be a future.
At first, I don't feel like I ought to tell Violeta at all. It must be hard enough for her, having to go through this process over and over with everyone she comes to like. It wouldn't be fair if I left her in the dark about it...I usually enjoy writing these letters, but this time, it looks dreadful. My handwriting is all over the place, and my tears smear the ink across the page.
How much do I say on paper? How much in person?
* * *
[Oskar's letter to Violeta]
Violeta,
I apologise for the urgency, but there is something I must discuss with you in person that it would be incredibly cold to discuss on paper. If you could come and visit as soon as you are able, it'd be much appreciated. I could use your counsel.
- Oskar
Violeta
Oskar's letter had me confused as well as concerned. What could have had someone like him so downtrodden?
Once I had some spare time outside of work and cleaning the house, I made time to visit him during the evening. I knock on the door, but I don't hear a response at first.
"Oskar? Is everything okay?"
I hear mumbling through tears. That can't be him; it isn't like him to be so upset.
"Give me a moment, Violeta...I'm sorry I called on you so urgently."
"You don't need to apologise," I tell him. The door clicks and squeaks open, and he looks unusually dishevelled. I see there's a lot more little woodwork animals about, so it seems he's been keeping busy at least...
"What was it you wanted to talk about? Did something happen?"
He passes me a letter on the table. I really hope that it isn't one of mine that's upset him somehow, but it isn't. It's from a local clinic, and after some time trying to piece together his symptoms, they've come to a terrible conclusion.
The poor thing dissolves into tears again, crying into my shoulder. At first, I'm not sure how to react. I never react the way I'm supposed to. I'm as shocked as he is, and the emotions do not hit me right away. I'm sure I will go back home and they will strike me all at once, but for now, all I can do is comfort him as best as I can.
"I'm sorry, Oskar...so sorry."
"I told you everything, everything I had planned, and now none of it is going to happen. I can't carry on the family business, can't get a pet...I can't do anything."
The contrast between us is unsettling. Me, with far too much time, and Oskar, with very little time at all...and yet it is him who is the dreamer, and me who could not care less what the eternal future brings.
I tell him that I will do everything I can for him, even offering to stay here with him if he doesn't mind.
"I remember what you told me roughly when we first met, Oskar. You told me that we should make the most of the time we're granted. I think you should do the same. Do what makes you happy for however long you have."
"I can't be happy now, Violeta," he replies. I still cannot get used to his voice sounding so solemn. "What brought me happiness was working towards goals I no longer have...Unless...Violeta, how easy would it be to turn me?"
"Turn you? Into a vampire? No, Oskar, you would want no such thing, I assure you-"
I don't expect such ferocity in response from him, but I do not take it personally. I, too, would not be in my right mind in his situation. I remember when I was turned, against my will. I felt the same way. Rage in the face of death...or, for me, undeath.
"What do you mean I wouldn't want any such thing? What more would I want right now than another chance to live properly, Violeta?"
I can see it in his eyes that the guilt has already set in, but I put a hand on his shoulder to reassure him that there are no hard feelings.
"Before you found out such horrific news, Oskar, you were always full of life, always cheery, and I admire that about you. Being around you gave me the closest emotion to joy that I can get these days...and this is exactly what I don't want to see become of you. I don't want you to become like me- aimless and anhedonic. I never want to see that happen to you. Not to mention that you are such a timid and harmless man. Vampirism will unlock a ferocity within you that I don't think you'll be able to cope with."
"I won't ever become aimless, Violeta. I've more I want to accomplish than I can in any normal lifetime...and definitely more I want to accomplish than I can with the time that I have. Violeta, I'm begging you..."
It's no easy decision to make, and not one I am willing to make at this moment no matter how much he begs. I understand that he is in so much emotional pain, but to have lived the life he has lived so far, a life of happiness- it seems pointless to extend it into a dreary existence.
"No, not now. I will stay with you until..."
I don't say it. I can't bring myself to say it.
"...until you have made a definite decision about what you want me to do. Whether you want to die knowing you've lived a joyful life, or whether you want to continue on into the unseeable future. Not every vampire lives a miserable life, but I can assure you, if I were given the choice...I would not have taken it."
* * *
Oskar
Everything became progressively worse far quicker than I could have imagined.
The pain, the sickness...everything. In the earlier stages, the clinic had tried bloodletting, but it did very little. Violeta had managed to get hold of a few remedies to numb the pain, but at this point, they sadly had lost their usefulness. I couldn't stand it. I hated lying in bed all day, doing nothing. I wasn't supposed to be like this. I was supposed to be carrying on our family name as the best woodworkers in Windenburg. I was supposed to be travelling about with Violeta, showing her the beauty of the country. Instead, it was her at my bedside, unfailingly almost every single day when she wasn't at work.
She asks me, most likely for the final time, what my decision is, and I already know. I have not come to terms with death at all. No matter how much closer it gets, I refuse. I know that vampirism will not be an easy path, but it must surely be better than death. Anything must be. I can barely find it in myself to speak, but I muster a response:
"Please, Violeta...Don't let me die like this."
I understand that this is hard for her. If something goes wrong, she will blame herself, but I assured her previously that any negativity that comes from this is entirely on me and not on her. It was hard to read her feelings, but I know that she, too, did not want me to perish. After all, we were the only friends that we had. Though I am the extroverted sort, I never did really become close to anyone. I just liked to talk to whoever would listen.
She gently pulls my collar down. Her fingers are freezing cold against my neck. She tells me what will happen. It's mostly what I feel already- sick, tired and hungry...the only difference is I don't currently feel a thirst for blood. doesn't sound terribly different from what's going to happen anyway- only this time, I will wake up afterwards. I'd be lying if I said I'm not nauseatingly nervous about it, but not as nervous as I am to die.
She opens her mouth, revealing her terrifying fangs once again. There's a sharp sting in my neck as she sinks them in...
Violeta
His blood is like honey and metal on my tongue.
There's an eerie yet satisfying sweetness to it, so much so that I have to force myself to stop before I end up killing him instead of turning him. I can feel the strange sensation of the vampiric magic slowly working its way into the wounds in his neck. I hold on to his hand, and he crushes it tight. It is not a comfortable process, though it is likely more comfortable when the recipient asks for it.
I hope to whoever is listening that he will not regret this, but I cannot see such a thing happening. Vampirism loses its touch the first fifty years. At first, you feel all-powerful, but after that, you are more or less a slave to your bloodlust. The only option is to make peace with your monstrous side, and accept it. I did so with surprising ease compared to some others whose stories I'd heard about, but I don't know exactly how Oskar will cope with it. Either way, I will be there for him, as he has been for me.
[Violeta's note for Oskar]
Hopefully, you are awake now and are reading this note I left for you. It is a little long, but necessary.
You likely forgot the past three days or so. You are likely feeling all over the place, and that is normal. You died, and now you are alive again, mostly. The good news is you are likely free of the pain, and eventually you will not feel so sickly either. You will have a lot to get used to- not feeling your heart beating in your chest. Not breathing. How cold you are to the touch...and you probably feel as if you are starving to death.
I closed the curtains. Open them slightly, put your hand out to the sun. If you feel a burning pain, then make sure you only go out in the dark. Once you feel a little less dazed, try eating something. If it tastes utterly terrible and it comes back up, then the likelihood is that you can no longer eat regular foods.
What you are likely feeling the worst right now is the bloodlust. This is normal, and the most difficult for many to get used to. It makes you furious and desperate, and you will do anything to sate your thirst. So that your first kill isn't an innocent townsperson, I have left a few fresh animal kills in the kitchen for you. Bloodfruits also exist, and they taste similar enough to it to hold off the thirst for some time- though they are apparently only available on trees growing north of Granite Falls- quite a while away.
You will find each individual will have blood that tastes different somehow. The interesting part of vampirism is all the different flavours, though no-one seems to talk about it. Now you have all the time in the world to accomplish anything you want and more. Make the most of it before the inevitable sets in. Remember, I will always be by your side.
Take it steady,
- Violeta
Nebelstadt, approx. 120 years later
Oskar
Outside of the parasite infestation that was the Strong bloodline, not many stepped foot into Nebelstadt. It had been long abandoned, or so they thought. Many ended up here by mistake- a simple wrong-turning. Nebelstadt was perfect for Violeta and myself; the fog was so thick that only the slightest harmless traces of sunlight permeated it. Some of the plants in Nebelstadt had seemingly adapted to it.
I'd often try to get to them before Violeta did- offer them a rest, a glass of wine or some tea, maybe a bite to eat before they were back on their way to their actual destination. Some would share stories of their travels. They were often so grateful for the hospitality that they never questioned anything about me.
Quite often, though, you'll see the little men in their fancy coats with their lanterns and swords and their hats skulk through town. The witchfinders. They all dressed more or less the same. You think they'd try to blend in if they were to catch out witches, but their ego far exceeded their intelligence.
One thing almost all witchfinders share in common, strangely enough, is a fear of the unknown. How they made so much money from killing witches when they feared them deep down was laughable. Oddly enough, they weren't always men, either. Eventually, even women became witchfinders, despite being the biggest victims of the witch-hunts. Violeta dealt with the witchfinder women. You'd seldom come across a witch, and Violeta often dealt with them, too, before I could get to them.
The war was still fresh in her mind. The way the witches turned on us, Violeta wanted nothing to do with them. She swore she'd kill any witch she ever met. As for me, I know today's witches would frown upon their ancestors for their bloodshed...though some never change, the way the Strong bloodline didn't change.
I'd argue that the schadenfreude I derived from the witchfinders was sometimes more fulfilling than their blood. The panicked deer-like eyes the moment they realised they'd stepped too far into the world of the occult.
There were always the ones who would pretend they weren't terrified, even when I could sense their hearts racing. I don't rush into it. I mess with him first, mocking him and in turn bringing out his fragility so I can mock him some more. None of these people had a sense of humour. How did they ever survive without one?
There's a dry, painful sensation in my throat, and I can feel the pulse in his neck throbbing under my fingertips. I give him the option of instead bringing all of his little witchfinder friends to Violeta and myself, but he 'bravely' refuses, as many of them do.
Sometimes they plead for their lives; whether or not I listen to those pleas depends on whether or not I think the experience gave them a change of heart. Then again, I of all people know that a man's heart rarely ever changes. Once it is set on something, it's difficult for anyone to talk him out of it.
This man is one of those who I know would go straight back to witch-hunting, so I figure I ought to make the most of it.
The taste of his blood is hard to describe...a peculiar bitterness to it. The steady flow of his blood warms me from within. I don't stop until I've drained all I can from him, leaving him more or less a pale sack of bones and organs. The wolves will polish off the rest. Speaking of the wolves, I miss the Lunvinchenaîné greatly, and a day won't go by where I don't mourn their extinction.
With the second chance I got at life that they didn't, I won't let a single witchfinder slip from our grasp.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: I hope you enjoyed reading this, even if writing it was painful for many reasons, mainly that it touches on so many personal fears and insecurities. These two will be revealed in more detail at some point in Divided, likely in Act Two.