January 16th 1830
-Boston, United States of America.
Personal Journal of Leon Wagner.
Fourth Entry.
I arrived in Boston in it's highlight of winter. The snow and ice so prevalent I could practically feel the breath become cold as it left my lungs.
I left the freezing swaying docks and asked a random merchant on the street's where the nearest stable was so that I could purchase a horse for my travels ahead. Telling him I must head Northwest to the farthest border of Canada as soon as possible.
He laughed heartily, saying nobody ventured out into those regions. Saying those lands were inhabited by the natives who had been raiding local homesteaders and pioneers who had ventured too far into their lands. He then grew dead serious as he warned me of strange occurrences in the very region to which I was headed which had resulted in the death's of hundreds of people. Never to be seen again.
I told him that was exactly why I was here.
I was in no mood for his jesting and demanded he point me in the right direction immediately. He finally obliged and guided me to a small stable at the outreaches of the town. I purchased a large black stallion as well as some local food for the long cold journey ahead of me. Finally I was off. There was not a moment left to delay with merriment and communing with the locals. I had a task that was expiring with every passing moment I wasted. Nothing could stand In my way any longer.
I ventured out into the frozen wilderness for the next few days. The snowfall heavy and unrelenting in its fury. I was forced to make camp in a small cave up north in order to shield myself and my horse from the freezing blizzard that had intensified all around us within hours. I was heavily frustrated by the delay the weather was causing to my mission. Fighting monsters I could handle. But fighting the weather itself was another matter entirely.
After waiting for two agonizing days I immediately ventured back out along the path. Coming across multiple abandoned houses and campsites everywhere I went. All with blood stains splattered across wooden walls and lining the floor's of ruined tents ripped apart with long claw marks. But no bodies.
There was not a soul in sight. Not even the call of a bird to inform me of life in this chilling land. My horse was hesitant and fearful of its surroundings but I pushed him onward right through the deep snow.
I at last arrived towards a narrow mountain pass entrance leading through to a valley covered in snow and ice, with a frozen lake glistening from the sun at its heart in the center. This was the place. At last I had made it. I tied my horse to a secure enough tree and ventured down on foot. Sliding through the snowy hill quickly to the bottom of the forest in order to begin my search.
I spent the next few hours looking for any clue I could find as to what I would be facing. I was certain I would find at least animal tracks but there was nothing alive in this frigid valley of mystery and fog. The only semblance of a clue I found was an abandoned wagon missing a wheel that had been buried in the snow for quite some time under the cover of a tree. The meager protection didn't help. The wagon had already begun to rot away from constant contact with the harsh environment that had completely encircled and trapped it in place. No one had lived here for quite some time. But still, that didn't mean it was secure. In front of the wagon lay the skeletons of two horses side by side one another. Picked clean of every scrap of flesh. I approached with caution behind the wagon. Stepping over the small bones of what looked to be a large dog, crackling beneath my heavy boot.
I raised my pistol and dagger as I slowly pushed aside the withered wagon tarp to look inside the dark, dimly lit interior.
Numerous tattered garments laid huddled together in a pile across the frozen wooden floor, with each strand having been ripped to pieces by an incredibly powerful force, clearly not human. As I examined the fabric closer, I found to my great surprise that there was not a single drop of blood on any of the strands. Now I was beginning to grow curious and confused. This was clearly not the work of a regular wild animal or even a monster. They always made a mess. It was bewildering to say the least. I thought for a moment that it might have been a werewolf. But no. Werewolves leave behind score's of blood when they transform. This was clean. Far too clean.
As I began to feel my way through the pockets of a torn woman's dress looking for clues. I found a small black and white photograph folded neatly in place with extreme care by whoever it had belonged to. I unfolded it with equal care not wanting to damage the clue and discovered it to be a large family photo. Old, degraded, but still barely legible. With faint drops of blood staining all four of it's corners.
Eight people stood shoulder to shoulder. A father and mother at the center. Three sons to the right. And three daughters to the left. With both sets of three being comprised of a young child, a teenager, and a young adult. The children and mother all stared up at me from the paper with sad somber faces frozen in time. The clothing they all wore in the photo, told me that they had been quite poor and even more importantly that their clothing matched the tattered garments beside me exactly. But no bodies in sight. They had not been here for quite some time. It seemed they had all simply....vanished into thin air.
I exited back outside into the now familiar cold air and proceed to circle the wagon perplexed in an endless search. I wondered why a family so poor would leave everything of value behind, especially when they needed it to survive. Had they been fleeing from something? Had they all gone stark raving mad? I then looked down below toward the one place I hadn't yet searched in the crime scene.
I began to tunnel under the wagon underbelly and scooped the snow behind with my bare hands. I dug deeper and deeper until I was shocked to find more bones. Only this time human. They were that of a young boy who couldn't have been more than five or six when he died by my estimates. It was a grisly somber sight. But I knelt closer to conclude how the boy had died from his injuries. The dead had no opinions. And neither could I in this matter.
I carried his remains out into the open, and laid them gently across the snow to begin the autopsy.
The cause was difficult to determine from my long inspection, as there was hardly anything left of the child other than his small withered skeleton. He had been picked clean of all flesh just like the horses and dog. Nothing was left behind. Even the bone marrow had been scraped completely clean. I checked for fracture or claw marks along the femur and was able to discover faint indents of teeth with my thumb. Small. Quite Human like. Possibly a Hatian zombie? Perhaps a goblin or Icelandic Dragur? It was near impossible to tell based on how similar the species bite's were to one another. But I knew one for thing for certain. It had definitely been humanoid. And quite hungry.
The victim's thin bone's became brittle and weaker by the minute as my inspection around them intensified. At any moment it seemed they would crumble in to dust in the very palm of my hands. The poor child had clearly been very malnourished when he had died. Hunger. Possibly hypothermia. That was the cause. I was disappointed to deduce that the monster had no part in his death and had probably scavenged off his remains instead. A shame. I could have used the remains to help identify the monster further, if only more valued damage had been done to the child.
I then laid all three clues beside one another neatly in the snow, staring down for hours at the garments, photo, and bone's, pacing in the snow endlessly, trying to deduce the stories they had to tell and connect them in some way that made sense. As darkness began to fall all around me. I slowly climbed back up the hill immensely disappointed to make camp with my horse for the night. Frustrated by all accounts by the lack of finding anything else of value to aid my hunt. Another day wasted.
But to my infuriating surprise. My horse was gone.
As I searched around for my only means of quick travel. I spotted a man's silhouette observing me hidden in the distance atop the cliffs above. I raised my rifle and aimed. The stranger scattered immediately along with my horse right behind him held by it's reigns.
Having no other option than to track down this thief. I trekked along the rocky path for hours hoping to find their tracks. But he had wiped them cleanly away with pine branches.
This thief was crafty and knew the land very well unlike me, much to my anger and embarrassment. I take no pride in admitting that this childish frustration caused me to kick the snow like a madman for the next ten minutes.
To add atop my mountain of troubles the snow began to fall yet again.
I am heavily disheartened and currently reduced to making camp in the wagon in an attempt to shield myself from the cold. And with my blankets and coat lost on the horses saddle. I am forced to using piles of dead leaves and the scraps of cloth for desperate warmth. I am currently shivering throughout the night with a small dwindling fire beside me. Unable to sleep and covered in rotten foliage. Enraged beyond all imagination.
Until I write again. I shall try and get some sleep to regain my strength and double my efforts tomorrow.
Assuming I don't freeze to death first.