Previously in Frankengeld. After a fight with gargoyles, and then his Father, Damion has thrown his nemesis over the battlements into the chasm. But his not-actually-my-Father has held onto his errant son, and Damion has fallen too. Alicia has flown into the chasm to try to save him, and Helena has fallen to her knees on the cold stone slabs of the ancient tower, to cry uncontrollably.
Now read on...
Epilogue - 29th August in the year 1784.
[Note from the editor. Here the handwriting in the journal returns to that of Dr. Damion Von Frankengeld.]
I return to my journal today. I feel fit enough to write for the first time in what feels like a very long while. I have started on a new page because there appears to be a lot of water damage on the pages written by Helena. There is much of that fateful day in the ancient Frankengeld castle that I do not remember. I have had to rely on Helena, Alicia and the rest of my friends, to tell me a lot of what happened earlier in the day. But I do remember the final moments. They are etched into my memory.
Kurt had gloated like a true villain and threatened Alicia, Helena and myself with dreadful violence. I could stand no more from this man and ran at him. I struck him in the upper chest with the magical dagger given me by Lord Mutunus. Sadly, the strike was not sufficient to kill him and, as I drew my arm back to make a second blow, he grasped my wrists and started to force me to the ground and into submission. I struggled against him but he was too strong. As a bone in my left arm broke - it was the radius I later discovered - I lost hope, believing that life as a eunuch slave was to be my fate.
My future flashed before my eyes. The vision seemed to last for ever but can only have been a few seconds. I was to wear an iron slave collar for the remainder of my days. To have my tongue cut out and my scrotum sliced open. To feel Kurt remove my testicles and dangle them before my face before, doubtless, throwing them into burning coals with a cruel laugh. I was to be doomed to entertain him in his bed, whenever he felt the need for anal sex, unable to complain except by feeble moans or worse, screams. Wordless.
Alicia would be dust. My friends would have been slaughtered by the wolfwere women under Kurt's command.