Numb to it all , I returned to my bag , wiped the blood from my hand on a terry cloth towel , and then took out my log , a light brown hide journal in which I kept information on each victim I came across . In it I wrote :
Sara Holstadtler , 13 , Transylvanian , 13 Dec 2010
I put the black fountain pen inside the journal , closed it , and set it on the table next to my bag . Julia Holstadtler was still mourning her half-dead daughter , leaning over the blood-drenched body , trying to adjust the stained white nightgown so as not to show indecency . The maids stood at their mistress ’ s side while David Holstadtler knelt on one knee by the door , his face buried in the corner , his right arm suspended overhead and plastered to the wall , as his body hovered lifeless .
“ Excuse me , Mrs . Holstadtler , but it ’ s time .”
Julia lifted her head , her eyes overrun with tears . Her breathing quickened as she shrunk back from me .
“ Wh-what is this ? David ?”
Mr . Holstadtler managed to stand but fell with his back toward the door . His eyes reflected the man before him who was holding a stake in one hand and a hammer in the other .
I walked over to Sara ’ s lifeless body , placed the tip of the stake over her heart and plunged the hammer down hard . The ripping flesh , like the crackling sound of tearing through meat , and the gush of blood , like a big splash of paint against canvas , was deafening . Sara ’ s body seized , her eyes forced opened with constricted pupils , her mouth gaping with no sound escaping . Slowly , the young girl I
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