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I’ve been given little choice but to keep better track of the goings on I’ll be writing in this little journal, should I die at the hands of Mother Miranda. I can only hope someone finds this journal and makes it out of the village alive.
It has been years, I don’t even know what day it is. I just watch the seasons pass by and survive. I found the notes the witch kept on me after my death, her plans to manipulate me further. I can only assume the others I watched receive their “gift” are unknowing of what transpired, if they do know then they are willing participants and are even more monstrous than I. I still find myself mourning the loss of Viktor despite it being my own bolt that pierced his heart but since then I’ve felt no such feelings towards anyone. All that’s left now is my hunger. I would have been out to have my fill of a maiden today had I not been stopped on my way out the door by the feathered bitch.
That witch of a woman dropped the child she kidnapped on me this morning. While I knew it was coming I was not prepared for it so soon. The child doesn’t even know what's happened to him. I asked him and he had no information, no memory. When he’s older I plan to sit him down with the information I went back and copied without Miranda’s knowledge. The boy will have to be ready to do things he will hate to survive. Children shouldn’t have to live like this, with me, with the constant fear that winged bitch will come for them. I will do all I can to raise him well and attempt to prepare him for Miranda’s demands and perhaps the two of us could stop her once he’s old enough. I’m not powerful enough to do it on my own.
Only time will tell.