Taken from the journal of Stanley A. Winston.
I hastily write as the manor is consumed by flame. The entirety of the wine cellar is covered in fire, and the pungent odor of fresh blood mixed with fermented wine fills the room. I would have escaped from this godless place by now, but in my hurry I tripped over a fallen wine-rack and fell onto a broken bottle. I managed to crawl a little farther, but the blood loss soon made it impossible to continue.
As I lay on the wooden floor, bleeding to death, I take comfort in knowing I have destroyed the evil that once lay buried beneath the mansion. I have ended the killing spree of the wicked William Kraven, and his bronze creations have melted and will never walk the halls of this cursed place again.While the pain of the gashes in my chest and the searing heat is nearly unbearable, just the thought of a large pile of molten bronze or the entrance hall blackened by the inferno eases my agony.
As death slowly takes over, I am surprisingly calm. When I was younger, I always thought death would be a terrifying, grim event. I felt that I would never be ready for my end. Strangely enough, as I watch myself being baked by the raging blaze, I feel ready for my exit from the world. I think that since my last action on this planet was a good deed, and I have just stopped a force of evil from continuing to murder innocent people, I can accept death.
If this journal has not become charcoal in the wreckage, please finish it off. No memory, not even a small diary, should exist of this ungodly place.
This is the end. -Stanley Andrew Winston
I woke up with a start. Breathing heavily, I glanced around at my surroundings. It seemed to be a hospital wing of some sort. Beds were lined up against the walls on both sides of a long hall, with a door at the end. Then it hit me - I had survived! No doubt some valiant soul had braved the flames to save me from the crumbling manor. As I looked around in greater detail, I noticed that the wallpaper was peeling, and it was stained brown. The floors seemed like they hadn't been cleaned in months. My journal was missing, too. A little unsettled, I tried to get out of the bed I was lying in. As I raised myself up, a metal cuff snapped taut, pulling my hand back to the bed. I looked down, and saw that both my ankles had been restrained. Panicking, I tried over and over to break free of the bed, but the cuffs wouldn't give. Suddenly, I heard the door at the end of the hall swing open with a creak. I stopped, and almost screamed for help, when I realized that the person behind that door was most likely the reason why I was chained to the bed. I decided to keep my eyes shut and pretend to be unconscious. Lying back down, I heard the door lock and someone step into the room. As the figure crossed the floor over to my bed, I heard the sound of metal hitting the floor, and I assumed that the mystery man (or woman) was wearing boots. As the figure stood over my bed, I said nothing. It was almost as if the person knew I was faking, and was waiting for me to give up. A few minutes later, the shadow of the person still lingered over my body. Reluctantly, I opened both of my eyes to see who had done this to me.
I almost screamed out loud when I saw what was staring back at me. The bronze statue peered into my soul with its lifeless eyes, making me sick. A feeling of intense fear built up inside me. I finally gathered up enough courage to say "I killed you. You were destroyed in the fire." The figure just regarded me silently. "You are dead! I saw your soul leave the statue! THIS ISN'T POSSIBLE!" Emotions of rage mixed with fear, sadness, and vulnerability stewed inside of me. Just when I thought I had figured out how to destroy William Kraven's soul, it had somehow evaded destruction. Was it immortal? What was the point of even attempting to stop his horrific crimes? Had I been manipulated so I felt confident, just to be killed later on? I shrunk back into my bed, feeling like a rabbit being cornered by a fox. It was the predator. I was his prey. "Are you going to kill me?" I whispered, trembling in my restraints. The figure silently picked up a syringe from the table and jabbed it into my arm. As I tried to fight back, I realized it was futile. Crying out in frustration, I leaned back into my bed and started sobbing. This statue kept toying with me, kept messing with my mind, and I couldn't take it anymore. I wondered if this sick twisted game would end. William Kraven's power was immeasurable. Anyone could fall under his grasp, and no one could get in his way. As I went under, all that I could think of was the Manor burning up with me inside it.
As I drifted back into consciousness, I realized I couldn't see anything. The lights had been turned off, and the only light was a candle on the table beside my bed. As I automatically lifted my hand up to rub my eyes, the cuffs on my hands fell off. I had been uncuffed! I sprang out of the bed, grabbed the candle, and made for the door. As I got out though, I knocked over a bucket. In the bucket was molten bronze. I stopped in my tracks. Unnerved, I looked around my bed and dozens of empty metal buckets scattered across the floor, with bronze leaking out of a few onto the floor. All of a sudden I remembered a note that I had found in William Kraven's bedroom in the Manor: "First, you must dip the severed arms into the bronze vat, and leave it there for several minutes. Then pull it out and let it cool and harden. Repeat this process for the head, legs, torso and all the other body parts, and you will have a completed statue." Petrified, I slowly looked down towards my feet. My eyes crawled across the hospital gown, they grew in horror as I saw my legs: They were solid bronze. Hyperventilating, I yanked off my gown and almost collapsed when I saw my entire body was a bronze statue. I ran over to a broken window to examine my face. Those same, lifeless, dreadful eyes from William Kraven's evil statue stared back at me. Realizing what I had been turned into, something broke inside my mind. I started punching the wall, flipping the beds and breaking the tables in a mad rage. I threw a table at the door and it snapped in half. Thinking I could escape, I ran over to the door. As I was about to escape, statue came back. It entered the room with a huge sledgehammer, and its face had been contorted into a evil grin. It almost looked real, almost like a person. Almost human. I backed away into the wall, and the statue kept advancing. I curled into fetal position on the floor, waiting for him to start attacking.
The last thing I heard was, "You're mine now, Stanley."