Several disappearances and unexplained events have been registered shorty after the commercialization of an ancient statue linked to some legends from a mysterious place called "Reich der Finsternis" in eastern Germany, there is no know route leadin...
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Amelie's diaries
Steffi left the room, allowing Sister Judith to guide Liz through the asylum. The hallways, illuminated by the morning sun, exuded the calm and tranquility of an ancient convent. Arched pillars framed a lush green garden, where an old fountain whispered its serene murmur. The stone walls, heavy with history, housed intricately carved dark oak furniture, as if they were keepers of forgotten tales about souls seeking redemption. Walking alongside the asylum's director, she felt like a traveler through time. Amidst the darkness that defined Reich der Finsternis, there was still a glimmer of hope.
They passed several rooms with communal beds, where the women of the asylum—dressed like their leader—tended to the sick and wounded. Among them were recognizable members of the German police commando. Relief mixed with unease settled over Liz until her attention was drawn to two sisters caring for a gravely injured man—Dr. Franz Richter. The melancholy on their faces made it painfully clear that there was little they could do for him. Liz's sharp gaze immediately confirmed her fear: the doctor had lost a dangerous amount of blood.
They descended a staircase into a rustic kitchen, its brick walls and iron utensils speaking of another era. A large wood-burning stove dominated the space, while two women worked at the central table. One chopped fresh, vibrant vegetables that seemed to be homegrown. The other expertly cleaned and prepared rabbits, her deft movements and careful seasoning a testament to her culinary skill. The mingling aroma of meat and vegetables filled the air, and Liz's stomach clenched in protest. The last thing she had eaten was the meager bread ration Nick had handed her in town. It had been days since she'd had a proper meal.
They moved on to a room with wooden benches arranged near an altar. Sunlight streamed through the windows, casting the space in an almost ethereal glow. It resembled an oratory, and the faint, smoky fragrance of incense lingered in the air, emanating from a candle flickering in the corner. Sister Judith approached a table at the center and picked up a book. Liz recognized it immediately—it was the same collection of diaries narrating the history of the Holzmann family, the one she had taken from the library.
"Well," Judith began, directing Liz's attention to a specific page as she opened the book. "You're probably wondering who we are. I'll let our founder explain," she said, before starting to translate the text.
Diary of Amelie Holzmann, written in February 1637
Several years have passed since Anneliese left us. It was devastating for my father and me, but the sisters of my convent insisted it was the best course for our community. At my father's request, I tried everything to persuade her to abandon the practice of sorcery—not just for the salvation of her soul. The last thing I wanted was to see her burn at the stake.
I strongly condemn all sorcery. However, the trials of Bamberg and Würzburg in Bavaria have no place in the teachings of sound doctrine. Anneliese never understood this; she believed we were her enemies.
