The Journal

My entry into The Joust Of Horror: A journal detailing events of a soldiers life.

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The Journal
by Lisa McCourt Hollar

This is the Journal Entry of Captain Benjamin Franklin Moore II. It was found in Fairview Ga. during renovations of Blackstone Manor, which once had been a sanitarium. Captain Moore and his company had been traveling through Georgia, under orders to join troops outside Fort Pulaski. They never made it, apparently all dying the same day the Fort fell under Union control.

Journal of Captain Benjamin Franklin Moore II

April 3rd, 1862
Georgia

We have been traveling for days in this godforsaken state. The heat, even this time of year is unbearable. The mosquitoes are the size of bees and their bites just as bad. We have been ordered to join artillery troops outside of Savannah and aid in attacking Fort Pulaski. The attack, if successful, will be a huge coup. We have been issued new, rifled guns which will allow us to target this ‘indestructible’ fort, whilst remaining out of range of enemy fire. We shall see how indestructible Pulaski truly is.

April 4th, 1862
We engaged in a small skirmish outside Atlanta. While it didn’t last long, we did suffer casualties. The enemy troop retreated after several hours of pitched battle. They were an unkempt lot. If this is the example that GA has for fighting men, Fort Pulaski should be easy enough for us to take.

April 5th, 1862
The wagon carrying the shot and powder broke a rear axle, delaying us for the better part of a day. The men are becoming irritable from the heat, something for which I cannot fault them. If it weren’t for the unmitigated gall of the heathens that live here to secede from the Union, I would leave them this godforsaken land and say good riddance. The affront to our President though cannot go unchecked, not to mention the disregard for human life.

One of the enlisted men, Corporal Stanton, claims he saw a pale woman watching us from the forest last night. He has been regaling the men about how she came and visited him in his tent during the night. He showed them two puncture wounds on his neck as poof.

I swear these damn mosquitoes…I have asked Lt. Scott, as he is in charge of the medics, to keep an eye on the soldier in case the buggers are carrying a disease that causes delirium.

April 6th, 1862
We are lost. An in-bred, ragtag group of soldiers attacked our company as we were passing through a densely wooded area. They surprised us, coming from behind the trees and attacking with knives before we had a chance to respond. They were no better than savages. Corporal Green was killed. He showed promise, not to mention he had a stash of liquor he was disposed to share with me most evenings. It was against regulations, but I saw no need to make an issue so long as common sense was used. He will be missed.

Several more men have claimed to have night time visitors. Each of them have similar ‘bite’ marks on their neck to Corporal Stanton’s. The mosquito netting doesn’t seem to be helping keep these buggers away from us!

April 7th, 1862

We are still lost. The maps we were issued are filled with flaws and nonexistent landmarks. I fear we may not arrive outside Savannah before Pulaski falls.

We have met with some strange happenings as well. Corporal Stanton was found dead this morning, fresh puncture wounds on his neck. Lt. Scott says he has never seen anything like it. All of his blood had been ‘drained’ from his body. What kind of animal can do something like this? I am now concerned about my men and their health. Ironic that the damn bugs appear to be more of a threat to the Union than the Confederate; perhaps we should enlist them to our side.

April 8th, 1862
7 a.m.

Two more dead this morning! Sentries saw nothing unusual. Corporal Lansing’s throat had been ripped out. We proceed with caution. Is this some form of animal that infiltrated our camp or something more sinister? It certainly wasn’t the mosquitos. The superstitious among the men have tucked small crucifixes beneath their uniforms.

6 p.m.

There is a sense of foreboding in the air. We encountered the remains of a confederate bivouac. What was left of the troop was nearly unrecognizable as human. Limbs were torn from bodies, heads ripped off and stuck atop stakes and nary any blood left in a body. Some of the bodies appeared to have been eaten from, flesh ripped off with jagged wounds that resembled bite marks. Some of the meat had been completely shredded from the bone.

We have bedded down for the night. We are all on alert. Whatever…whoever attacked the confederate army will not catch us unawares. I no longer believe it can be an animal attack. An animal would not put heads upon a stake!

April 9th, 1862

The world has gone insane! I now believe I may not live another day. Our camp was attacked at dusk. Half our company is gone! Only 38 remain. Sergeant Carter died before my eyes and what I witnessed would leave me questioning my own sanity, if not for the testimony of others that have seen similar deaths.

The Sergeant and I were sitting together, sharing a bit of Corporal Green’s stash. We only consumed a small portion, enough to bolster our courage, when Sergeant Carter’s body was lifted into the air. I grabbed my side arm as all around me men panicked as we came under attack by some unseen enemy. Before I could determine where I should fire my weapon, the Sergeant’s head was returned, minus his body.

I am not ashamed to say we ran. We left behind the wagons, taking only what we could carry. We brought what wounded we could manage. Sadly most were left behind. It is not our finest hour, but we survived an attack that many believe came from Satan himself. I am not a religious man, but I have accepted a crucifix from one of the common soldiers.

We ran all night. It seemed as though we were being toyed with while we were herded towards a destination of the enemies choosing. Strange sounds assaulted us throughout the night, as well as screams from those that were taken from us as we ran. Then the morning rays of the sun began to brighten the sky and the assault ended as suddenly as it began.

We have no idea where we are. There is a town, nestled in a hollow below our position. It is a sign of life and our hope for survival. We need medical attention, more than Lt. Green and his medics can provide in our current state. We also need food. We will rest a few hours, then march for the town. Hopefully we will reach it before nightfall and another attack.

April 9th, Evening

We arrived in the town, bedraggled and worn. We held our guns at the ready, though we were met with no resistance, just silence and stares. The town, Fairview, is some off the beaten path village that doesn’t even appear on the worthless map we were issued. I asked how far we were from Savannah, but the town’s people appear to be slow-witted. The appearance of Union soldiers didn’t seem to surprise or even concern them. I saw no signs of a militia to help defend them which seems odd, even for a podunk town such as this.

The mayor of the town came out to greet us, his hand stretched out, a smile plastered on his face. His handlebar mustache seemed almost comical on his squat body and I had to suppress a smile as an image of a clown came to my mind. If not for our experience the night before, I might have found this an amusing relief. As it was, I declined the hand; he was after all a potential enemy. His friendliness could be a distraction while he waited for Confederate troops to ride to the rescue. I intended to have my men in place and at the ready when the enemy arrived. I was certain they couldn’t be far behind.

I announced my intention to occupy this town for the Union. The mayor nodded his head in agreement and assured me we would receive no resistance, insisting that they were neutral in this “nasty affair,” as though the town was a separate entity from the United States and had no part in this war.

I ordered Corporal Bryant to post sentries at all points of entry to the town and then to bivouac the men while Lt. James secured the food and water supply. I sent a couple of the men to round up as many weapons as they could.

As the men followed my instructions, Lt. Scott approached me about commandeering a building where the wounded could be treated. Before I could respond, Mayor Greenwood pointed towards a forbidding mansion towards the edge of town, informing me that they were the most equipped to deal with medical issues.

“And why is this,” I asked, suspicious of his intentions.

“Blackstone Manor is a hospital…of sorts. We do have a small doctor’s office, but the supplies would be insufficient for your needs.” He glanced around at my men as he said this. Those that were able had pitched in, setting up tents, but there were many that lay on cots or blankets while field medics tended to broken limbs and other, more serious injuries. The very fact that we made it this far whilst carrying our wounded spoke greatly of our determination.

A hospital…of sorts? I wondered what the mayor meant by that, but road worn I wasn’t up for a question and answer session. My men needed treatment and I wasn’t sure how much longer we had before whatever had attacked us the night before returned. So I ordered the manor to be taken. I would set my headquarters up there and the men could heal in comfort.

Blackstone Manor, as it turns out, is a fortress, as well as a mental institute. They did have the medical supplies Lt. Scott needed. The doctor that runs the place is a strange man, a Lucius Blackstone. His father was the original doctor, setting the family home up to treat the ill after his own mother died as a result of mental illness. Lucius tried to fill me in on the entire saga of Blackstone Manor, but I was in no mood to have a history lesson.

April 10th, 1862

We made it through the night without an attack, though some strange things occurred during the night. Most of my men stayed in town, camping in the center of the village. I spent the night in the Manor, along with Lt. Green, his field medics and the wounded.

I had commandeered one of the rooms as an office, spreading a map out on a large desk, trying to determine just where we were. As I poured over the map, pinpointing areas I knew we had been, I felt as though someone were standing behind me. When I turned, no one was there and yet my jacket, which I had left on the bed, had been moved.

I left the room and went in search of our benefactor, finding him in his office with one of the most beautiful women I had ever seen. Her skin was pale alabaster with just a touch of pink in her cheeks. Her hair and eyes were dark and when I entered she flashed me a smile that showed the whitest teeth I had ever seen. I stood there like a fool, just staring at her as I drank in her beauty. After a moment she shifted her eyes, embarrassed by my attention. Flushing, I realized how forward I had been.

“May I help you,” Lucius asked. He seemed a bit put out by my appearance and I wondered if this beauty was a lover.

“Has anyone been in my room,” I asked.

“I don’t believe so,” he answered, “although if something is missing I can have the servants questioned.

“No, nothing is missing, it’s just that,” I paused, embarrassed, “it’s probably nothing. I thought someone was in the room with me a moment ago, but when I turned around no one was there. My coat had been moved from the bed and was across a chair instead.”

“Could just be a trick of your mind,” Lucius said, his psychiatrist mind jumping into action. “Perhaps you moved it subconsciously. From what I understand of war, it can be draining and your men appear to have been through an ordeal.”

Reluctantly I admitted that could be the case. Leaving Lucius and the woman, I left the room, meeting Lt. Green in the foyer, along with Corporal Bryant. Lt. Green brought me up to date on his patients who were resting comfortably. Dismissing him, I turned towards the Corporal. He handed me a list of all the supplies that had been rounded up and a duty roster, showing the rotation the sentries would take. At the moment, all seemed to be well. I told him I wanted to be alerted the moment anything changed.

I went to bed, certain I would not be able to sleep, but the terror we had experienced the night before had taken its toll and I was out within moments of my head hitting the pillow.

Actually, after what I experienced during the night, I’m not too sure the drink one of the servants poured for me wasn’t drugged.

I don’t know how long I was sleeping, when I became aware someone was in the room with me. Opening my eyes I beheld the woman from Lucius’ office standing over me. I opened my mouth to speak, but she silenced me, placing her fingers over my mouth. Then, pulling her hand away from my face, she dropped her robe from her shoulders, allowing it to fall to the ground.

I could scarcely believe it when she climbed into the bed with me, her hands undoing my long johns. She kissed my throat, moving her tongue over my skin and down to my chest. I tried to remind myself that I was married, but her seduction was such that I could put up no resistance. As she climbed on top of me, I moved her hips in place so I could bring her the most pleasure.

I woke in the morning alone. Convinced it was a dream, I sat up. I was naked and my body felt stiff. Looking in the mirror I noticed two small bite marks on my neck.

Dressing, I went in search of Lucius and the succubus who had invaded my sleep. They were nowhere to be found, although servant was waiting in the foyer to direct me to the dining room.

“I wish to speak with Dr. Blackstone,” I said.

“I’m sorry; he’s not available at the moment.”

“When will he be available,” I asked.

The woman just shrugged and left the room. A moment later I was joined by Lt. Green who held a smile on his face and similar bite marks on his neck.

The rest of the day passed without incident. I went into town to meet with my 1st Lt.. I instructed him to send out a few men to scout the area. I wanted them to leave town as unobtrusively as they could and to be back before nightfall. I instructed my 2nd Lt. to question the town’s people. Someone had to know what it was that attacked us two nights ago. Then I went back up to the manor to await Lucius’ return.

As of this writing, I am still waiting and dusk is approaching. I can sense the restlessness of my men. Something is out there waiting to attack again. The waiting on our end is maddening.

April 11th, 1862

I am writing this as I hide behind a rock in the catacombs that I found running beneath this house of horrors. I have no hope to survive. No reasonable belief that anyone will ever read my final words…and yet I feel compelled to put it to paper and leave a record. Perhaps years from now someone will find this and know at last what became of me and my men.

I think they are all dead. I’m not sure of anything anymore though, even death. Corporal Stanton has returned. He is the enlisted soldier that regaled the troops with tales of his nightly visitor and then a few days later turned up dead in his tent. WE BURIED HIM and yet here he was standing outside my room, still in his uniform, the dirt we covered him with still pressed into his trousers!

He had become something other than human. I hesitate to write the words, lest my descendants think me mad, but he is a vampire! I know, vampires are just stories told to children to keep them in at night, but I am telling you THEY ARE REAL!

I fell asleep waiting for Lucius to return. When I woke the woman was once again standing over me. She was not alone. Next to her was a blond, her beauty equal to that of my raven haired seductress.

“You are right,” the blond said, “he is quite handsome. Perhaps we should keep him.”

“Lucius has already said no, but that we can play with him all we want until it is time.”

“What does James say,” the woman asked. I saw her flinch at the name. I was unfamiliar with who this James was, but I could tell he wasn’t thought of kindly.

“My father has nothing to do with this. Lucius is in charge, as always. James may think he has the moral high ground, but in truth he is no better than us. One day he will come to see that.”

I opened my mouth to ask what they were speaking of, but no words came out. I wondered if I were dreaming.

“Oh look, he’s awake,” the blond said.

“Then let the fun begin.”

The two of them climbed into bed with me. I am ashamed to say, I didn’t resist. Thoughts of my sweet Margery never entered my mind as I felt their kisses on my neck. I’m not sure how much time passed, I just know I was feeling the greatest pleasure I had ever experienced, when my door burst open and Lt. Scott came into the room, a crucifix held out in front of him.

The blond looked up from her ministrations on my body and began to scream, throwing her hands up over her face. Then she started laughing, looking at Lt. Scott and smiling, revealing sharpened teeth that could tear his throat out.
“A crucifix,” she laughed. “How quaint, I haven’t seen one of these in years. Not since Lucius removed the one I’d been buried in.” Stretching out her hand, she took the crucifix from him. Holding it to her face she said, “See human, it doesn’t burn. Is that all you have for me?”

“No,” Scott said, pulling a wooden stake from behind his back and slamming it into her chest with so much force, he impaled her against the wall.

The woman screamed, her face contorting, whilst her beauty began to fade and her body turn to dust. The other woman threw herself across the room at the lieutenant, but he held another stake out, ready for the attack. At the site of the wooden object, she dove to the side of him and ran out the door.

“What the hell is going on,” I asked, coming out of my daze.

“Vampires,” Lt. Scott said. “This whole hospital is filled with vampires. The entire company is dead. I don’t know why they saved us for last, but they did.”

“How did you know,” I asked.

“I came to check on my patients and found them being feasted on by several of the ‘residents’ of this place. They would have killed me too, if I hadn’t acted as quickly as I did. I broke a chair and used the legs as stakes to kill them.” At my questioning look he said, “My maternal grandmother is Romanian. She told us stories.”

Gathering my clothes, we went in search of a way out. I couldn’t be sure, but I thought we were being watched. We turned towards the front door, prepared to take our chances outside the manor, but the door was filled with Corporal Stanton. My heart nearly stopped when I saw him, blood dripping from his mouth and dribbling down his chin, much like a toddler who was learning to eat food. The blood came from a soldier whose dead body was still held in Stanton’s arms. I regret I do not know his name…his face had been chewed off.

We decided heading out the front doors would be suicide. Stanton dropped the soldier he had been feeding from and stumbled towards us. Scott pulled another makeshift stake from his pack and attacked Stanton, nailing it into his heart. Stanton fell to the ground, apparently dead, but I had thought the same thing a few days ago and been proven wrong.

“They only come out at night,” Scott said. “If we can make it until morning, we will be ok.”

We went in search of someplace to hide. We didn’t encounter anymore vampires, but I continued to feel as though we were being watched. Somehow this all seemed like some part of an elaborate game; one we didn’t know the rules too.

After a while we found ourselves in the kitchen. The sight we beheld was ghastly. Body parts scattered all over the place, torsos hanging from the ceiling, as though being prepared for a feast. There was a door. Opening it, we discovered steps leading to the cellar, or what we thought was a cellar. The horror we found in the tunnels that run beneath this place was tremendous. Humans chained to the wall, all in varying states of decay. They lay in their own waste and ‘human’ children, no more than savages that were eating off the ones that had died.

When they saw us, they scattered like roaches, hiding from us. Then from behind laughter. We turned. Lucius, the raven haired woman and a dark man with one arm stood behind us.

“You were right Lucius,” the dark one said, “this was more fun, bringing them too us.”

Then Lucius and the other grabbed Green and tore his body in half. The woman laughed, calling to the children to come back and enjoy their good fortune.

“A feast for you my lovelies,” she said.

From out of the corners they scurried, anxious to feast on poor Lt. Green’s body, fighting over his intestines and plucking his eyes from his head and chewing on them like a delicacy.

I turned and ran, racing through passageways that were lined with skulls and bones from people long dead. I lost track of all the turns I took. I am hopelessly lost. I will never find my way out of this maze; it is only a matter of time before they find me. This will be my last entry. I don’t intend for them to take me alive. I will not end up as Corporal Stanton. Dear Lord; I have never been a religious man. May God have mercy on my soul.

Word Count: 3,933