It seems not even the fabled witches of old - with all their arcane knowledge of the ins and outs of Inferno - could not hold back the sheer terror of what happened to lurk within their powers. Reading on, I find they’re just like children. Powerful, dangerous children; like finding Daddy’s shotgun.
During one of the later investigations of the catacombs I happened to come across one of the ‘wards’. Rarely known about, these rather disturbing rooms felt chilled with the air of strangled screams. Those who failed, probably. Everyone knows - even humankind - that demons are not to be messed with. They are powerful, prideful creatures. Ones that pride themselves on their infinite wisdom that would only happen to share if you had the right price; that and if you didn’t read the terms and conditions correctly. I suppose this is what would happen if you didn’t read the terms and conditions.
Venturing on it seemed that whatever research I happened to find in the ‘eyewitness’ accounts I had borrowed from one of the Vigridian archives, everything was beginning to line up. Slowly but incredibly surely the darker, more gruesome aspects of this matriarchy were being drawn into the light, much like the shambling corpses of whatever happened to them should they know not of what they walk in to. One particularly caught my eye. Written in a hand-bound parchment book, with a few pressings of rosemary and lillies and other flowers. The fact that the diary happened to tell of much more risqué, sapphic and very much illicit activities between her and the matriarch’s daughter was besides the point. It belonged to a witch, one of a young age I assume, who happened to take on the job of what today we would call an exorcist.
From what I could further gather, this diary belonged to a witch named Cereza.
Beautiful name, alas, the poor thing must’ve died a gruesome death.
Going on she writes a summary of daily statements, I’ll transcribe them here:
‘Day 2 -- Still comatose. She should never have touched the damn thing. . .’
‘Day 7 -- Pronounced dead at least three times. He’s just toying with us now. The apparent ‘Ouija demon’ likes to play games.’ . .
‘Day 12 -- I told them to bloody listen to me. Adalie has ‘reanimated.’ I keep telling them she’s not dead. There’s a soul in there, still. Let me do my damn job!’
And in a surprisingly different handwriting:
‘Day 15 -- Cereza would want me to write in here. Don’t die. Please. You don’t deserve Inferno. Not yet. Adalie is dead, but the demon now has her. All I hear is the multiple voices; you and that fucking demon. I’m trying, anyway. Don’t leave me. '
