Foreword: This list contains a compilation of especially notable excerpts from his diaries and the journal of Captain Stephan Crommenigge. The last one was from the moment of his death, shortly before the fall of SCP-278-DE-1. For easier comprehension and better readability, the texts were translated from medieval Frisian to English.
September 25th
„I fear the situation on our island will not turn to good account. This sweet-sourish-salty smell of dead decaying fish and other animals washed ashore still perfumes the air. It is disgusting. The sparse green on the island has turned brown and bereft of all life. Our livestock has shrunken to one mutton and two sheep, after we had to slay two animals again, who mangled and ate their mates with claws. The only ones who profited are the seagulls, who ravage the bodies and intestines of the cadaver like wretched vultures. We, the eleven humans, who remained suffer from hunger and malnutrition. My wife Isebil still mourns for our son, who entered heaven's kingdom two weeks ago. The last provisions have already been rationed to a fraction of the actual needs to maybe nourish us for one or two more weeks. Most of us still hope this is a trial by God thyself to test our faith and ability to suffer, and salvation from main land isn't far away. But I have buried this hope long ago. I fear no one will rescue us. The elector from East Frisia is more connected to the fancy peeps onshore than some meaningless colonies on a small island like ours. Especially since he never was here to enjoy its beauty. But our settlement manager always says we must hold on. Be patient, he says. Time is of essence, he says. I'm sure he thrones on supplies he is not willing to share, which is why he still looks so well-nourished. That's easy to talk about, but I have no evidence. Overthrowing him through a revolt is therefore of no use. The other people are too weakened to even think of a rebellion. And my powers are dwindling.“
September 27th
„My body was tired and screamed for sleep, but my mind could find no sleep during that night, my stomach was empty, yet my head full of so many worries and my heart heavy. So I decided to undertake a stroll around the beach in that foggy night, hoping the cool breeze would carry my sorrow away. That night, the mist laid thicker than cabbage soup above the sand and the sickos stench of death still tainted the air and gets carried along with the wind. Thus I thought my senses, weakened by fatigue and grief, were deceiving me when I saw a man foreign to me. A skinny figure, likely just a few years older than me. Smartly dressed in finest black garb, even darker than the night. With golden buttons, alike the stars and a sight of beauty. With a long white wig, every curl perfectly placed, while my hair down in a tangled and shaggy mess. A tricorne rested atop the man's head held high. I saw him walking along the beach, seemingly searching for something. He gazed at the sky, bent down here and there to pick up sand with his fingers in white gloves, just to then grind and sniff on it here and there.
I didn't knew if he was real or just a spawn of my fantasy and doubted myself. What if he simply was a result of my fatigue. I hustled towards him as fast as I was still allowed to, for fear he might dissolve to fog and carried away by the wind. I tripped over on the move, once or twice on my legs trembling out of excitement. Arriving in front of him, I sunk into sand exhausted, asking him breathlessly who thy fair man was and what he was doing here. He had never been seen here before, I could remember that, even in delirium. With a serious expression on his face, he then looked at me in skepticism and irritation. After brief consideration, he smiled at me, as if he was visibly delighted about to find out that I am no plain rabble and able to articulate in a patient manner. He greeted me courteously and told me I am to only refer to him as „the caretaker“, it would suffice, as names would be unnecessary accessories for such a post. He had been sent to investigate reports about strange events on this island, although I harbored serious doubts he could improve the situation all by himself. At first, I thought he was sent by the lords of East Frisian. I asked him where the ship is he used to get here, but he said that he was dropped off at the beach and the crew requested him to sail on without him. For the sake of hospitality, I invited him to my home, but he shook his head, saying he wants to explore the island for a start to find the reason for this hell we are obviously in. But he would find me soon enough, when concluded his first investigations. Then he would accept my offer with gratitude.
Ran home in a rush of excitement to tell my family and make up a bed.“
September 28th
„The heavy fog still covers the island, so thick actually that the fishermen can no longer go to sea. Now we are also losing fish as a nutritional basis, a tragedy, although stocks already declined earlier on. Our is getting worse and worse. This self-called caretaker was frequently seen wading across our dying island, just to stop from time to time to in order to pick up a plant, a bone, or occasionally just some dirt and hold beneath his nose to sniff it.
It was fascinating how clearly we could see him, as if the fog would not dare to touch his presence or always dodged him to give way. My wife believes he was send by the devil and is absolutely not happy to share a roof with him. But by now, I would even make a deal with the devil, if only this nightmare would end soon and the fog, our village's bringer of death and decay, would clear.“
September 30th
„I was still lying in bed when a frightened scream from the cabin by the young Ingeborg not far from my home made me startle. I pulled my nightgown over the head and something else in a hurry to then run to Ingeborg's cabin, in front of which half the village had already gathered and watched through the wide open door in its inside aghast. I pushed my way through the five attendees in a timely manner and saw the caretaker kneeing above and repeatedly stabbing into Ingeborg with a kind of dagger, while blood painted the floor red. Urgently, I tore the shoulder of the caretaker to pull him back from her, but I was too weak. I screamed at him and wanted to lift my fist against him, as he stood up by himself and almost knocked me over with his speed. He held the bleeding heart of Ingeborg in his hands, at least that what can be assumed as such. The black thing pulsated and a large devilish eye starred back at me from inside, while quickly blinking at the same time. I recoiled when the caretaker drove the dagger precisely through the eye, followed by the heart collapsing in a terrible scream. He stepped back from Ineborg's ravaged body, as if nothing had happened. Meanwhile, the once so virginal-looking body of Ingeborg transformed into that of an old, wrinkled and abysmally ugly woman. The present residents were deeply horrified, both by atrocity itself, the apathy of the caretaker, as well as the corpse left behind and that what once was a heart.
Some emerged from their rigidity in a rush, demanding loudly retaliation for their girlfriend and neighbor, and that the caretaker had to be accused and killed for his witchcraft. But he only looked at us, one by one, calming as if no one could do him harm, even if would dare to try. The others calmed down magically. And I too sensed this feeling that there is more hidden behind this curtain. He raised his voice with composure, explaining to us what we just witnessed. I couldn't understand everything he said at that time, as he used words I have never heard of before. He assured us he would not be the reason for all this, otherwise the island wouldn't exist anymore. Then he would have razed it to sea level and not just made a half-hearted attempt. Why slowly starve and torment with diseases, if there are faster, more effective methods?
He explained to us placidly that we are in the midst of a magical, blasphemous conflict fought out across these seas. For centuries now, a trade across the seas surrounding us had occurred in the coastal areas here and that we all are would be in the river, linked together and ultimately whole. No common people, not even princes, electors, or kings would be allowed to know all this. He told us about the trade between circles, unions, cults, and other repulsive vermin that would exist in the shadow of every nation and create, search, use, and distribute magical objects to follow their own goals, to enrich themselves in the most shameful of ways and be in possession of power. Not even shying away from annihilating whole populations in some instances, using specific utensils or other means. And these ships, which sail under the cloak of nations or none at all, crossed our island not far from here, which for most people is small anyway and without meaning and would therefore not pose a threat. To make sure it would remain this way, a municipality wanted to eradicate the village, without drawing too much attention. A hag had been sent out to weak everyone of us from the inside, by walking in our midst. Living, praying, working with us. No one should suspect her or sense something. The plan was so perfidious and subliminal, they had the time, there was no need to rush. Now the witch is dead and live could move back in.
Oh the poor Isolde, no one would have thought she would capable of such a thing, may God have mercy on her soul. The murder, the crime of the caretaker was unspeakable without question, but at the same time I was grateful that the island had been purged of witchcraft. I thanked the caretaker, who only starred at me blankly and deadpan, as if he could stare right into my soul. He just nodded and then heaved the dismantled body face down on his slim shoulders, saying this wasn't for nothing while walking. He would return someday and claim his pay.
I didn't worry about it, as the settlement hadn't much to offer in its current state, so what would the caretaker be able to demand? But for the well-being of my home, I would do everything dutifully. I promised him, before he nodded and left the cabin with Ingeborg to abandon the settlement.
Currently, I don't care about what would happen later on. Our vilage has to recover for now. I hope my son can smilingly gaze onto us from heaven.“
September 31th
„The first thing I notice when waking up was the usual and oh so familiar salty sent of the sea, which had been lost for so long. Excitedly, I stood up and looked through the window of our unpretentious home. I couldn't believe my eyes, but it was like then, when the god curse came upon us and infested my beloved island. No fog, no biting, no acrid sweet-sour odor, the sky equally clear like the sea. The plants had their healthy, rich green. I thanked God for giving us the sign that we weathered his test and had sent the caretaker to help us.
And, of course, for sparing our lives in the process.
A day of fortune, finally hope was back in the air for everyone. It was as if we were newborn, full of optimism and thirst for action. I kissed Ilsebill and went about my day buoyantly.“
November 3th
„The village could recover to some extent, after the sea bore fish and pantries could be restocked again, as the soil yielded crops again. The sick persons in the village had regenerate by degrees. after there were herbs and medicine afresh. The cadaver were picked up using sheets and burnt. Our deceased were paid our last respects and returned to soil in a ceremony. We almost forgot about the caretaker, when suddenly fog formed anew in the distance and a caravel burst forth from within. The black sails and small flag caused panic among the islanders, as this could only mean they are pirates heading directly towards the island. Our womanhood fled straight in their houses, while I and the men prepared ourselves with the few tools and weapons we own to face the enemy. The ship came closer to our beautiful coast and didn't even seem to stop, while the water would technically be too shallow for such a caliber, so it is abnormal that it could move forward with such a speed. As the ship came close enough, we saw with terror the reason for the ship's steady pace. Hundred of human legs and feet, as if summoned through magical deviltry, protruded from the bow of the ship and carried it across the flat ground and over dry land in our direction. The ship stopped right before us and the knees buckled, causing the ship to come to a rest on the sand, before a rope ladder was thrown down from the side.
It was the caretaker, who greeted us from the ship and cheerfully climbed out of the hellish boat. He walked straight towards me, placed his hand on my shoulder and said it is time to honor my promise.
I was a man of honor and asked him what he desired. I briefly thought of him to be the devil in disguise in need of my soul, but he laughed and pointed towards his boat. We stared upwards and saw a pirate crew, which looked down at us from above. The men, collectively marked by the sea, dirty, blaring, with greed in their eyes and blood between the teeth, they let the sabres rattle and bang their blunderbusses in the air. Some were more infernal creatures than plain sailor pack, it was very frightening. I saw deformed bodies, heads with three eyes or complete lack thereof, some featuring rotten predator teeth, claws, scales, crab claws, and octopus arms instead of hands… This could only be a nightmare. Why didn't I wake up…
Was the caretaker a pirate or a shipman from hell? I fell to my knees pleadingly, begging him to not set his creatures on us. But he laughed and placed his cold, gloved hand on my head. He wouldn't be here to plunder but search for a new captain, as he would know who he want to have in this position. Me, why me of all things? He said the sea is still full of corrupt humans, who poison it with magic and witchcraft. Who trade relicts that could eradicate whole nations in the wrong hands. There were still hellish creatures wading and swimming through the seas, posing a greater threat to our village than the plague. Someone should take action against it. The crew would need someone to lead them. One could not rely on the protection by those electors, dukes, kings, who are but pawns on this chess game of decay. He shouldn't operate under the shield of federal states. Free of laws and obligations in front of a noble. Moving beyond national borders to ultimately prevent a war. He and the must act as outlawed pirates, so that humanity can continue to wander in a light without worries. And this crew would need a captain. And the caretaker saw him in me, he firmly believed I could be that captain. The island would make an ideal hideaway and home for the travelers. He reminded me that I made a promise and reached out for me with a smile. I hesitated, but then agreed under the condition that my village would be safe and nothing would happen to its inhabitants. He nodded with a grin, while the hellish creatures on the ship rejoiced and the villagers starred at me in fright and disbelieve. The bewilderment, without having heard and just before what had happened, was almost too tactile. Ilsebell sobbed loudly and collapsed. Seeing my wife this sad and scared left a deep scar in my heart..
Oh Lordly, to what demon had I promised my soul?“
November 10th
„Today, I finally lost my innocence, my soul is befouled. My first raid as a pirate captain is behind me. The target was a fluyt that had to ship goods from Russia to the Netherlands, but we intercepted them not far from East Frisian coast, before they could even make port in a nearby safe haven. The caretaker told me a special magical item would be transported in it among a plethora of other goods. The journey met its end pretty quick in spite of the calm sea. The ship the caretaker had left me with sailed so fast that the water beneath us was simply cut in half. The Dutch ship had no opportunity to escape us, especially not after having been rendered unmaneuverable by a shot through our scrap-filled canons. Slowed down like this, it was an easy task to board the ship. The sight of the atrocities the crew consists of fortunately caused the enemies to surrender in a rush and us to not spill too much blood. The caretaker went below the decks with me to search for the magical relicts that had to be transported and we were after. His disappointment was great when, while searching through the crates of furs, amber and grain, the treasures he had hoped for were found, but did not live up to the promise. A magical pot capable of creating endless amounts of pickled cabbage, the pelt of a magic bear and a fox fur scarf, which gives the wearer fox ears and a tail, do not really meet our expectations. Who would want this rubbish? I ordered the men to take what we need, above all the grain for the supplies. Some talented men from the enemy side were also taken along to serve as reinforcement for our crew. I saw the caretaker forcing the remaining men to consume a shimmering purple potion. In response to the question what the was administering them he said this potion would strip the men of all memories relating to the previous events. It would be too risky to have the men ashore, just so they could spread word about us and flaring the ship along with the crew would be too risky and excessively eye-catching. He said once I'm to command the ship on my own, I'd have to make great use of the potion. My conscience gets a slight rush of relive from the fact that the killing must not degenerate the amount I feared, as there is a way out, an alternative to murder.“
November 12th
„The first caper did not go as well as I hoped. During our cruise, we noticed that we were being chased by three Dutch liners. Our ship was fast, but the ships of our enemies were after us and caught up more and more. If they had caught up with us and opened canon fire, my first caper would have also been my last. And I would have been forced to watch my burning ship sink, provided I'm not getting killed beforehand. My heart was pounding rapidly with excitement. We came closer to our home and I feared the enemy would also attack the island and its inhabitants. I wanted to issue the command to change course, so that at least our families would be safe, but the caretaker held me back with an almost scary calm. He asked if we had the runes he gave to each of us and everyone should always carry. I didn't understand for what purpose, but I trusted the caretaker and ordered the men to keep their runes ready and stay on course. There were only a few nautical miles to go until we would reach the home island, when a thick, seemingly impenetrable fog appeared in the distance. The caretaker subsequently instructed to continue to sail unswervingly and sail through it. No one should come to any harm. We sailed through the seemingly impenetrable mass, while cannon fire began to sound behind us. I don't know how, but even when couldn't see a thing, we still knew where had to sail with certainty. Even when our eyes couldn't sense anything. When we had traversed the mist, we saw the port of our small island, where the inhabitants were already standing and expecting us with sheer excitement. I wanted to sound the alarm that everyone should flee and hide in their houses to await the coming attack, but I noticed the cannons of the enemy went silent. I turned and saw the wall of fog but none of our enemies passing through, even though they were hot on our heels. I asked the caretaker what witchcraft he had just performed. He just laughed and explained to me that it was a ritual he had prepared pre-departure. The fog would be our best friend and as long as we possessed the runes, no foe would ever reach the island. They would sail through the fog and simply emerge at the other end, without even seeing or touching our island. What witchcraft! I think I will look into it more when the opportunity would arise.“
December 16th
„There is a tension threatening to divide live in our village. Some are like me and accept our fate that we too are now supporters of crimes and try to do the best we can with the pirates. We expanded our haven and built new cabins, using what we could acquire through recent capers and the trade ashore. Even though we're slowly beginning to see the good in this and more and more people joined us, there were still villagers mistrusting the pirates and refused to support them. Inter alia, my Ilsebill, who is only at my side because she is my wife, and has sworn to be faithful to me in both good and bad times. There were also some first false rumors that the crew are summoned creatures from hell, eat children, practice fornication with the sheep or are a curse worse than the plague.“
„I asked the caretaker what to do, maybe he could use magic to calm tempers. But he replied it is up to me as captain to ensure law and order. I should not only give praise but also punishment. I should build trust. I'm the one everyone must look up to. I thought about it and will probably enact a new law: An agreement with conditions everyone has to sign and which will ensure peace between every individual. I only hope that I won't be forced to punish those who refuse to sign. If only peace were easy and self-explanatory. And I not responsible for preserving it.“
February 12th
„The caretaker has been living in the cabin for three months now, the one once inhabited by Vettel, who was responsible for our scourge and sorrow. He literally entrenched himself in there. Every now and then, we get to see him. Then, he mostly requests certain objects and tools he needs for his home, but so far no one was allowed to enter his new home, so he wants to do everything by himself. But we try to respect his quirks. Obviously, the suspicion that he would end like that witch - or even worse - sprouted in me, as he seems like someone who always has to go the extra mile to stand out from the average."
"But on this day, he invited me to his „peaceful home“ to have a look inside. Only I would be allowed to enter, as he trusted me. When I entered the house, I was shocked by the size of its interior. At least ten times the house's outer measurements. His answer that this was the work of a goblin he had taken with him, almost sounded banal in comparison to other magical things. The furnishing was mazy, colorful, and filled with things my mind couldn't comprehend. Innumerable rows of glasses colorful water flowed in. Walls full of maps, piles of rolls and sketches, more than one man could possibly read in one lifetime. There were cages with strange creatures. Collections of runes. My head was spinning. Instead of helping, the caretaker sent me outside to regain my sanity.
Who or what was this man? And what is he doing here? When he is so strange and different from us normal people…“
February 29th
„This morning, I saw the caretaker in company of the shephered Rogar, with the former dragging a heavy, large, obnoxiously smelling linen back behind him. Before I could ask what that was all about, the caretaker beckoned me to him, so I can follow them to the seagull cliffs. I warned him not to go there. It has always been a draughty, cold and gruff place where the soil was too barren for even grass to grow on. Where only seagulls lived, as even then it has already been too dangerous to climb the steep, storm-ravaged cliffs. But he insisted that I had to follow them, as he had discovered something special, which could be of use for us.“
At the cliffs, he gave Rogar and me old, worn-out linen coats, which excreted a disgusting oder similar to the one from the back. I couldn't categorize it, but it smelled worse than the whale that once perished on our coast and progressively decayed through the heat. The caretaker said it would be a special mixture and gave instruction to put them on, before following the order himself. I already saw my wife in front of me, who would chase me outside later in order to scrub me with tub, cold water and brush for the next hours and burn my clothes to get rid of this stench. We laboriously fought our way over the cliffs, clinging to ropes and rocks, mindful of every step, so that we wouldn't fall down.
Arriving at the top, seagulls circled like heralds of death above our heads. The caretaker gave Rogar the order to place the back in the center, before instructing us to take cover. When we were in a safe distance, he opened the back and pulled it off the dead sheep inside. Hastily, he ran back to us, before the sky turned black over us. But they were not clouds. They were the seagulls whose earsplitting screaming filled the air. Screeching loudly, the seagulls descended on the cadaver and mangled it in a literal seizure of blood lust. It was a horrifying and most likely unforgettable sight to behold. And this greed alone, this act of cruelty almost distracted me from what I could see in the individual animals. Some of the gulls, no, creatures from the depths of the marine hell, were disfigured monsters. I saw animals with almost humanoid eyes, others with teeth, additional claws, scales, two extra wings. I was breathless when panic and fear almost overwhelmed me, with the shivering Rogar apparently feeling the same way. We saw the drama unfold in horror until the cloud of feathers and beaks dissipated under constant screaming, while some of those creatures ripped the last meat fibers or attempted to shatter the bones.
We were in a daze, whereas the caretaker wore a broad grin in his face, as if one of his mad experiments has been successful. He had already noticed the animals back when the plague infected the island. The animals had already been given an advantage in developing this behavior and their transformations through the consumption of the thaumaturgically polluted meat and fish. We can call ourselves lucky that something keeps those animals at the cliffs and on the sea, otherwise they would have eradicated all life on the island. The coats prevented them from paying any attention to us. I was grateful for the stinky rag, even though I'm sure I will have the stench in my nose for the next weeks.
I suggested to set the cliffs alight and punch those monsters to death, but he seemed to have had a better idea. As long as those creatures remain at the cliffs, they would not pose a threat to us anyway and could also used as an advantage. Two days ago, he had caught one of our men in the attempt of cheating the other men of their wages in dicing games, a crimes punishable by death among us pirates. He climbed up the cliffs with him, where the seagulls devoured him within a few minutes. As if to prove his statement, he lifted a human skull seagull, which laid buried beneath gull droppings. He apologized for not informing me about this circumstance earlier, but this would be the ideal place for executions and disposal of corpses, which I should admit and understand, because „nature takes what it gives“ how they say. The witch's body also found its way back into the eternal cycle here. I was too nauseous to think, and this wasn't necessarily due to the smelling coats and all the violence.
I think a bath in the cold tub and the coarse brush will help me to get my mind straight.“
May 28th
„The caretaker wanted to show us a second ship he had created thanks to our latest forays. Thus, the surprise was huge when the parody of a chalupa was moored at the pier mid-morning. A swimming nutshell, shot to pieces and deteriorating to such a degree it was a miracle it swam in the first place. It probably wouldn't even survive the next storm. The caretaker was nowhere to be seen. I thought he hid out of shame. I thus turned away from it, asking myself what we intended to achieve with it. Little did I know that this wasn't what he wanted to show us.
Early in the evening, when night slowly fell, the tocsin rang, leading the whole village to the pier and gaze afar, when the black flag of a brigantine cut through the thick veil of mist. The ship's hull shimmered like shiny iron, as it pierced through the windy ocean and approached the pier at high speed. The target was the nutshell. The nutshell would not survive the attack, that was obvious, but the new ship would also be damaged, if it doesn't stop that is. In astonishment, we saw the hull of the brigantine transforming into another wooden design and hundreds of mouths with teeth and tongues formed instead; even a mouth worthy of a whale. All we could see was the gigantic ship from hell running into the nutshell and the mouths gobbling it up with loud, greedy munching and chewing and bursting noise, just like the seagulls feasted on our condemned. When the last remains of the nutshell were either devoured or spat out and sank into the water, the ship dropped its anchor at the pier, with the caretaker looking down on us with proudly swelling chest and a broad grin. He introduced the monstrosity as the „Indoome“, our new ship. At that moment, I knew what tonight's nightmares would be about…“
June 7th
„How the „Indoome“ had its tongue hanging out for wood, my crew had theirs for finally inaugurating the new ship. So it was a stroke of luck that another pirate ship was going on raids in our near vicinity. And their captain is said to have a magical weapon we should absolutely take into possession. Even though one might say honor forbids pirates to attack other pirates, our target was of more noble nature than the robbery of little, defenseless merchant vessels for some crates with pelts and jewelry.
The night was our companion when we could spot the enemy ship not far from our island. Even before the enemies could react, our cannons shot the scrap metal, which tore the adverse sails apart and caused panic among the enemies. Our ship rammed it to the side and with a loud „Spis fienden“, the „Indoome“ began to eat its way through the wood, like a caterpillar through a leaf. As if these weren't already enough frights for them, my crew also leaped over, whose abominable statures made the foes panic.
It would have almost been too easy, had the enemy captain not come aboard. A rough guy, probably double my age, with a gloomy expression and scarred face. But the real horror was in his hand: A cutlass that, when swung, did not emit the typical metallic hissing through cutting the wind, but the howling of a hundred tormented souls, as if he were the soul catcher in disguise. My men recoiled with respect to this howl from hell and the captain seemed to bear the combat strength of 100 men, as he - only armed with his saber - cut through the bodies of four men and tore it through the chests into the hearts of two more, without even a trace of exhaustion. I guess the most frighting thing about the whole ordeal was listening to the pain-filled howling of voices all too familiar to me, while this hellish weapon continued to whirl around.
And he was still a normal man. In a flood of speed and instinct, I drew my blunderbuss when he wanted to lunge for a blow and shot in his stomach, so that he flew backwards and dropped his weapon in the process. I quickly removed the weapon and tore it in his heart. How ironic that his agonized howling will now be emitted by his cutlass forevermore.
When their invincible captain was defeated and their ship started to sink, the enemies still alive surrendered voluntarirly. We loaded the survivors while their ship was swallowed by the wild sea. Later, they will have the choice of how they want their lives to end: As part of our crew or seagull food.“
August 8th
„In the course of a boat trip near the Trischen island, the men saw a young lad in the distance, barely 8 years old, who walked along the coast, while limping on all fours. We initially thought of him as a castaway or an unloved child rejected by its family. But when the ship came closer and we lowered the anchor in front of the beach, we noticed that the boy was an outlandish freak. When he was slowly approaching and curiously observed us, we examined his slender, almost skinny stature with light-blond fuzzy hair and big black eyes. He had something akin to the fins of seals instead of hands and feet and his mouth featured rows of sharp, streamlined teeth. I gave the order to catch the boy alive and bring him aboard. The boy attempted to run away when the men were chasing after him with loud howling and yelling, but his fins were not intended for walking ashore and he thus had no chance of escape. The men swiftly threw a net on the boy and first brought him down and then aboard. I questioned him or at least tried, for I wanted to know who he was. But only single words came out without rhyme or reason. Interrogation was therefore pointless, but maybe the caretaker would know what to do and could say what kind of creature this was and whether he could be of use for us.“
August 11th
„The caretaker has examined the seal boy closer. His lack of fascination and almost bored behavior revealed the lad was not what he understood under „big booty“. The boy had just been a freak, like the majority of folks he brought along to the village back then. One of the parents had probably contact to magical objects or the mother engaged in sodomy with a seal and became pregnant as a result. Those were his theories, but he didn't knew which one was actually true. But he didn't seem to care that much about it either. The boy himself spoke broken and rather bad Danish, which leads me to believe that he must have came from somewhere there. He told us he lived somewhere around the coast alone with his mother until evil men came, who referred to his mother as „witch“ and chased her off. He could escape into the water and one day went aground at the island we had found him on. He does not know what became of his mother. Even though it is not appropriate for a pirate captain to show compassion, I still felt a certain attachment to the boy, who was probably orphan and reminded me so much of my deceased son Hajo. Well, not by his appearance but nature. I decided to adopt the boy. My wife was not keen on the idea to integrate the young Phillip into our family, but she was silent and accepted my choice. I believe her attitude towards him will change, once she got to know him better.“
October 31th
„We finally found the monster, which, according to rumors, roams along the Norwegian coast. Our ship has been pursuing the enormous white mountain plowing through the waves at a speed of 15 knots for a while now. At first we thought it was a huge whale, but the creature moved way too straight ahead for that to be the case. It was not until we came closer when we saw the trunk-like formations that protruded laterally from the body and turned out to be large, rope-thick hairs. When its head was lifted out of the water and we looked at the dark blue eyes, we knew it was a massive giant cutting through the deep sea. It was our task to stop it. That's why we were there.
We sailed to his side and unloaded a whole wave at the being, but it didn't even seem to notice. The skin was probably too thick or something magical prevented a injury, so that the balls cannot penetrate him. I quickly gave the order that the special blue balls shall be loaded, while we attempted to hold position with the monster. The cannons were loaded and I issued the command to fire. Accompanied by loud thunder and a blue beam, the balls flew against the giant's temples, which immediately made an impact and bored through the skull of the abnormality. Blood shot out of the being, as long as its head was above water and it emitted deafening screams of pain. Its gigantic arm protruded from the floods and struck in our direction. Alike a falling tree the arm crashed onto us and we only escaped in dire straits, forcing us to fight to not be shattered by the resulting wave. Three of our men did not make it and were consumed my the waves. The screams of the beast could probably be heard all the way to the coast, until the behemoth's eyes ultimately rolled upwards and closed forever. The crew rejoiced over their successful hunt and triumph over the colossus. Yet my heart bled, I had no choice, I too was ordered to hunt. Actually, I should be happy myself that it was successful, but I mourned to never experienced what kind of creature it was and where it came from.“
December 13th
„This night, not far from Portsmouth's haven, we met a business partner of the caretaker he had supposedly been maintaining good contacts with for years now. The caretaker These businesses were, according to the caretaker's testimony, more necessary evil than a lucrative source of income. He rather wants to keep the discarded magical items, but he'd also need coins for trade and especially protection from the British fleet, which the business partner can guarantee to us as long as we can maintain commercial relations. We saw a chalupa sailing towards us and berthing close to our ship in the dead of night. A inconspicuous, skinny man, who kept himself hidden, came aboard, greeted the caretaker and me, and without beating about the bush, liked to see the things we could offer him. I was reluctant to entrust someone I don't know with magical relicts other nations would go to war for, but I trusted the caretaker's words, who saw this as a necessary evil. The man inspected both the goods as well as the list, before he threw a bag of gold coins at me and ordered his men to get the crate aboard his ship pronto. Following a formal farewell, the man climbed back on his chalupa and sailed with the magical items back to Portsmouth. The gold we got was half a fortune, but I wonder if it was actually worth it. Perhaps, it was a mistake to surrender the magical items to him, even if they were only comparatively useless rubbish. Or at least for us, but maybe the other guy knew more than we. I remain suspicious of this Lord Dark, but there's no use crying over spilt milk…“
February 14th
„Phillip has settled in our village's life very well, even though I noticed it wasn't always easy for him. The inhabitants of the old village were divided about him. Some valued his cheerful, honest and supportive nature or at least pretended, as he was my stepson. Others, like ol' Corvina, repeatedly came to me and complained that the rascal would constantly play tricks on her expense, scare the chickens, or steal the fishermen's catch. It's probably still the rejection towards all who are not like them that led them to tell such lies.
The few other children in the village seemed to avoid Phillip, mocked him and never let him play along, except when he is the evil monster they must defeat. I had asked the caretaker, the principal of our newly constructed school, to take care of it, but I believe he has other priorities.
I'm happy that he at least has the friends he otherwise lacks in the crew. The men laugh at his constant happy and amusing ways, enjoy his dances and funny pranks, in return they teach him all a real sailor must know. Even though it does bug me that he is with such a bad influence. As liquor, tobacco, and prostitutes do not correspond to his age yet. But I'm confident he will become a competent sailor. Maybe I take him with me as a ship's boy on privateering, seeing how much he begs for it.
I assume my wife is not innocent either. Albeit painful for me to admit this fact.
The problem is the behavior of my wife, Ilsebill, who is still not willing to accept Phillip as our son. She just doesn't want to see that Hajo is dead and Phillip as our new chance. When we dine together, she always watches him in disgust, as if he wouldn't be an innocent child but the reason for the death our firstborn. She avoids his company wherever she can, as much as he tried to gain her love. She seems to always look for a reason to punch him, just like yesterday when Phillip accidentally broke the vase, because he wanted to sniff the flowers in it. I hope she will come to her senses someday and Phillip can soften her heart.“
March 27th
„Today was the long awaited day when the caretaker finally shows us our third ship, the „Beschööle“. According to his details, it is the 'the most incredible ship we ever saw', we were thus full of anticipation and already very excited. Early in the morning, the crew and I rushed to port and waited to gaze upon the good piece together. It initially was quite a disappointment when we only saw the caretaker and the other two ships at the beach. When I asked the caretaker where our new vessel would be, he only smiled and pulled a big bottle out of his coat, containing a small wooden ship. Naturally, I asked him if this is a bad joke and that he couldn't make so much noise for an admittedly artistic but ridiculous handicraft work. He put the bottle in my hand, indicated I should go to the water, point the opening towards the sea and then remove the cork. I did as I was told when an incredible powerful gust of wind poured out of the bottle. Like a windstorm, an unrestrained force raged between my hands I had to brace myself against to not be blown away. The wind mercilessly whipped sand in my and the surrounding people's faces. As the wind died down and I opened my eyes squinting, I saw a large war frigate right in front of me. A magnificent, majestic vessel, even larger and more impressive than the other two ships next to it. I found no words conveying a better description.
The caretaker explained this ship had the gift to minimize by command and return to the bottle when the latter is opened again. Highly practical if you want to escape your enemies and bring the ship out of sight to not draw unnecessary attention to port.
Even though I've been in touch with the caretaker for so long, not one single day passes without him managing to surprise me.“
16. Juli
„The „Indoome“ returned to the Baltic Sea after weeks of sailing. Except for four prisoners wanting to join the crew, pelts and linen fabrics from Russia, barrels of pickled fish and brandy, and amber jewelry, the loot was more something to feed the crew's morale than support us in our research. The men reported to have pursued a porpoise with octopus arms along the Danish coast for almost a week, but who always escaped them swiftly. On the ninth day, they saw the animal lying dead ashore, where it had been slaughtered by five seals in a surprisingly brutal way. The otherwise so peaceful animals had pounced on the carcass like bloodthirsty wolves and rolled in its blood. The men had briefly considered to maybe take the cadaver with them, but decided against for fear of the surprisingly aggressive seals. I must still ponder whether this was a good and reasonable decision or if I should punish those men for not coming up with a solution.“
September 14th
„Years have passed since this island became a home for my new mates. I have to still laugh about myself for doubting the idea back then. The small angler village from once has since turned into a contemplative village, where peace finally reigns between the old inhabitants and my people. Dirk, the son of Ada, the shepherd's daughter and young Hauke has already grown up and walks his first steps. An excellent pirate will certainly become of him, just like his father, I can feel it. And he will definitely grow up. Here, on our island, we must no longer fear hunger. The lute brings us more fish than we can eat, whaling is a trifle with the harpoon and the sour cabbage keeps us fit and healthy. Plundering brings additional prosperity into our lands and every piece of magic we find makes our island more powerful. Some of the old inhabitants miss to see the ocean's expanse, which is hidden behind the fog ad infinitum. But to be honest: I can't even remember how things were afore. I don't want to either. My life, the life of us all, has become so much rosier than before with all the luxury. And it is only a small price we pay, when compared to the enormous service for humanity that we fulfill with our task. So that all humans of the sea must never fear the unknown and magical.“
October 18th
„Today Phillip had his first day as ship's boy. He is allowed to sail with me, the crew, and the „Stääkerhäid“ along the East Prussian coast where, according to rumors, rune objects are sold from Russia. He had been looking forward to this for days now, and even my wife seemed to have finally shown something akin to motherly love when she served Phillip a big meal for breakfast: A whole smoked cod, his favorite dish. Even though I think the woman only did this because we had another argument yesterday. And although she never wanted it and repeatedly showed that, Phillip still considered her as his real mother in spite of everything.
During departure, the whole village gathered at the pier to bid us farewell. Even those who never wanted to accept Phillip. Maybe they were just glad that he's gone. But I am proud my son has the enthusiasm of the sea by me, which I could only really recognize a few years ago. I was full of fatherly pride.
Phillip was thrilled and packed with enthusiasm, even then when he was forced to realize his task aboard was to scrub the deck. He had yet to learn that cleanliness is the task of every pirate.“
March 19th
„Almost three years have passed since I became the captain for a pirate crew. And by now I believe, no, know that it was the best decision of my life. Our village has grown, the plain cabins of clay, wood, and straw have mostly gave way to houses of finest wood and stone that can withstand every weather. The small berth, which has been our whole haven in the past, is a proper pier with dry deck now. Cultivation of food has become well and rich. We have a small school and a small health center. Wealth is stored in our chambers and the warehouse for magical research almost bursts with magical objects and cages with abnormal creatures. We also have a few more women who joined us during our shore leaves, partly by choice, partly as booty. And the fact that most of them were outcasts or anomalous pleased the crew, whose male impulses could no longer be contained. It's a relief we don't have to drag more men up the gull rocks anymore, because they could not restrain their urges towards the village girls and had to be punished.
The first confrontation with them, under the cloak, is still etched in my memory, deeply…“
April 24th
„I had an argument with my miserable wife today, as soon as I returned from our recent privateer trip with a big booty and stepped into our fancy house. She lamented that she can supposedly no longer stand how things are going currently and it couldn't go on like this. This would no longer be the village she used to live in the olden days, where she would have wanted to live and grow old with me. She misses the simpler times, when she wasn't yet a „supportress of criminals“, as she claims. She would always with the fear that I would not return back home to her one day, and worries are feasting on her internally when I am back on privateering and do not return home for ages. I just don't understand her. We are better off then before. The things we do are for the better of our community, no, for the better of all northern seas! No, the whole world! We prevent other humans on coasts from falling victim to the same fate our village suffered years ago when this plague had haunted us. We are no outlaws! We swim through the dark ocean, so others can live on safe light shores! And she shouldn't certainly complain, as she always gets something out of it. A few years ago, we gnawed at fish bones to survive, today she has gold, jewelry, pelts, a safe home and everything other women would surrender their soul for. When I told her I'd do this for our family, she screamed at me that she would never see Phillip as her child. Hajo is and will forever be her only child. Phillip would only be a „freak“ I brought home in the sole attempt to replace our Hajo and she'd have someone's company when I'm not around. That's when she caught one, for the first time in my life, I raised the fist against a woman. This ungrateful, wretched doodle of a bride provoked it, though. I hope my hand was painful enough for her to lean the lesson to not talk to me like this in the future. Married people should not treat each other this way. In the aftermath, I believe both of us felt hurt and sorry…“
26. April
„My beloved wife, Ilsebill Crommenigge, born a Kuttleborn, passed away last night. Early in the morning, she was not in her bed. I searched for her in the whole village, but no one had seen her. Sick with worry, I couldn't think of something else, until the caretaker stepped afront my door. His clothes were lacerated in parts, he breathed heavily and seemed to have been injured. In his right hand he held a human skull with shattered skullcap some blood, scraps of meat and remains of hairs plus scalp were still present on, and an amber necklace, which had become entangled in the long shaggy hair. I immediately recognized the necklace, for my beloved Ilsebill had once been in possession of it. The all-engulfing horror of instinctively knowing what had happened forced me to my knees in disbelief. The caretaker reported to have seen Ilsebill in said night, running to the gull cliffs. He assumed she wanted to take her own life, as she could no longer stand the life she had with me. He regretted to have only been able to save the skull and necklace, before the seagulls also attacked him. Which is why a bluish, viscous fluid akin to blood rand down his body. Oh, what fool I have been! My beloved Ilsebill! Why have I been so ignorant? Why have I been this way towards her, why couldn't we find a compromise, my god. Lord, why am I so curel?“
May 22th
„Plundering and destroying this pathetic island druid settlement has almost been too easy, although they put so much trust in their old viking traditions. The magical cliffs that had to protect their settlement broke to gravel under the bombardment of our blue cannonballs, and the five men who got in our way may have fought bravely and killed thirteen of our men, but we were victorious in the end when their hearts were mercilessly pumped full with blunderbuss ammunition and their heads were torn off by our cutlasses. None of them should live survive this day. The men plundered and pillaged like those druid ancestors did in their legends and sagas once upon a time. Not even two hours later, we were on the way back again, with a big booty and ritualistic objects and food stocks, singing cheerfully, while the island was burning down behind us and only barren, bare, and carbonized rocks would remain of those heroes.“
May 26th
„The caretaker was furious when we made port at night and I told him of our small island plunder some day ago. Despite the fact the booty of ritualistic objects was plentiful and we had protected the seas from the druids, he was enraged that we burnt the settlement down and murdered the inhabitants, without leaving something behind. So much important knowledge was lost to us forever. The ritualistic objects were useless without the knowledge of how to use them, as not everything could be self-tested or figured out by chance.
I was angry at this unjustified shouting. As if those primitive nature god whores could have offered us anything of worth other than the treasures taken along. Then he even boldly claimed that I had my emotions get the better of me. I would still mourn my beloved Ilsebill and live out this grief in blunt anger and desire for destruction. I should get my feelings and emotions under control, otherwise I wouldn't be able to do my task justice. How does the caretaker dare, I was proficient in my role. Apparently, feelings would be my greatest enemy and obstructive for the grand mission of protecting humanity from the unknown. What a fool! I've been doing this job for years now. I very well what I must do and what not, damn it! I don't need someone else in this affair any longer, who patronizes me like a little child!“
July 23th
„Recent conquests have been such a huge success that we allowed ourselves a little shore leave in Petten. The frigate from French, destined to become our target, would only sail by in a few day's time. More than enough time to enjoy ourselves a little.
The landlord of the inn looked surprised, as he likely saw the largest amount of clientele he ever had. We celebrated wildly and busy, drank one whole rum barrel after the other and sang old sea shanties in memory of our fallen. The customers starred at us, they had probably never seen such special men like mine. But should they stare as much as they want. Their villages would burn should they spoil for a fight.
A young man in navy clothing and with British accent was with us, who begged the landlord to give him something to drink, even though he doesn't have the money to pay the bill. I laughed at him. A man of the navy, poor like a pauper? Miserable. He should've become a pirate! I was generously enough to pull out my purse and threw some coins to his feet, so that he could pay his bill with them. I offered him to become a member of my crew, but he only looked at me in disgust and said he would never serve such a mob of repulsive creatures, especially not so dirty pirates like us! I then grabbed the bugger, told him to never make fun of my men this way again, before blowing a big belch in his face and knocking him to the ground. My men laughed when the little sailor didn't dare to punch me back, even though I had violated his honor. He placed the money on the counter, grabbed the glass, and left the inn with British curses. Miserable to see what wimps the Britain navy hires. Even the little red-haired bitch I will have some fun with this evening is more manly.“
July 1st
„Today is a day of mourning. Our last ambush at the French frigate shortly before the Netherlands, the task of the latter having been the delivery of precious magical treasures to the East Prussian coast amongst other things, had been foiled by three Britain shooner, which immediately opened fire when we came too close in their opinion. We tried to flee and it seemed as if we would be successful, but a fourth ship appeared out of the blue, attacking us from the side. We turned around and were about to attack and rammed the troublemaker.
There was a mighty rumble that hit both ships. But the other were hit harder, so hard in fact they became unable to manoeuvre and we swiftly boarded the ship to set an example to the Brits. The ship was conquered in combat, enemies disarmed, and weapons secured. Yet there were losses to count and the number of victims was high. Not less than 12 men lost their lives, but I was struck by terror when I saw that Phillip was amongst the victims. My son is dead, killed through the bullets of a cowardly Britain bastard, who calls himself captain. What came after the moment of terror and mourning was anger and the wish of revenge. The death of my son would not remain unatoned. My demeanor seemed to have made an impression. Both my men as well as the tied up foes twitched anxiously when gazing upon me and I approached them when I ran up and down. I stopped in front of the other captain, towering above and him and grimly starred in his face. The murderer of my son begged me whimpering to spare him and his crew. My answer was prompt and without much thinking and consisted of a bullet between the eyes. In front of the eyes of the whole crew, one after another suffering the exact same fate.
I took my son into my arms and carried him at our ship personally, my heart bleeding just like Phillip's body. I couldn't go back, was not ready to leave my child behind on the ground by himself, thus I shouted instructions to my people. The clodhopper had to had to go, this unspeakable thing shall never sail anywhere again and cause damage. So they cleared the ship, then set it on fire, of that it sinks into the ocean's abyss.
Mercy was out of the question, even if they did not shot Phillip themselves, everyone else could have also done it mid-combat. No one would have had any scruple, given that they declared us their enemies. I lost my son and they were to blame, why should I spare them, so they could see their children again when I do not have that fortune? No one can expect so much mercy from a loving father. Not if he has to lay his dead child to rest. I brought Phillip back home to bury him at the beach, where he always wanted to be.“
August 5th
„On this evening, the caretaker came to seriously complain that I haven't been sailing out for a month to pay the debt towards him; my assigned task would not fulfill itself, he said. This heartless bastard demanded me to continue to participate in his goddamn game, while I have nothing left of a worth that would justify sailing on the sea, as no one waits for me at home to to take pleasure in the booty with me. My first son perished on the black death years ago, my wife preferred to become seagull food, and my beloved Phillip, the poor boy, had to burred by me recently. This is something no father should do, all of it just isn't right.
Working for the village also no longer satisfies me like before. Our village has become a breeding and collection point for a bunch of freaks and outlaws. The once so beautiful village I could remember no longer exists. But the caretaker didn't want to know about this or he simply did not care. Either way, he tried to placate or rather manipulate me with his words. He told me „I should get myself together and not be guided by meaningless emotions and feelings, as they would blindfold me for what my purpose would be. For the task he had predestined me for. And which is nowhere near to finished!“
I unbosomed myself to to him, while simply sit there with an unfathomable face, drinking the the good wine I had saved for a special day that shall never come… So we could open and enjoy it now too. We talked long and at one point, he accidentally said that he was responsible for my wife's death, as he feared my feelings for her could discourage me from my task. He knew she hated him, the caretaker, the fact that he turned me into his henchman, the changes accompanying the process. Just everything! He was afraid she could manage to make me turn away from my mission to please her. This was what he wanted to prevent, so she had to vanish, up to the skies to the child… This dirty bastard, he had orchestrated and perfidiously planned everything! As he then also dared to suggest I should just entertain myself with prostitutes at the beach for consolation, as my wife hasn't been much better anyway, I pulled out my weapon and shot him in the middle of his dishonest, hypocritical chest. But he just stood there unswervingly, while blue blood flew out of the wound, kept as quiet as a mouse, and payed no attention to the wound. He just shook his head in resignation, as if he was my father, who wanted to show me his deepest disappointment. “Bummer,“ was the only word I heard from him, before turning around leaving my house.
Let him go! I don't need this fool! All of this happened because of him. I became this monster because of him! He turned me into this! I experienced all the terror and sorrow no human should witness because of him. No wonder that at some point you are no longer yourself, can no longer be yourself… All these creatures from hell and beyond I had to associate with. I shall put an end to this. I can't stand it any longer. As soon as I figured out how to convince the humans of the island to look for a safe haven ashore, I will let all these nightmares go up in flames.
I pray god will forgive me for mocking him, that I can atone in purgatory and be one with my beloved wife and children thereafter.“
August 6th
„This morning, the bells sounded shrill alarm. I got out of my bed, quickly left the house, and ran to the beach to see what or who was responsible for the panic. With terror I had to realize that I could only see the sea and horizon for miles. The first time in ages! The protective fog has vanished! What had protected us ere now was no longer there! We were visible for every man and every ship coming by. A dangerous time.
One of the men came running from port. He said the „Beschööle“ would no longer be there. I counted the present inhabitants and realized that 10 men were missing, including the caretaker amongst others. This wretched bastard had engaged in mutiny and left us behind without shelter, virtually serving us on a silver platter for our enemies, while he bunked like a pathetic coward. I checked our chambers and realized some certain objects had been removed. The inhabitants accompanying me panicked and rioted. Some feared we would be doomed to die. But, having served as a captain for the last years, I fortunately knew how to still encourage men when faced with hopelessness. How to make them hold their positions and remain hopeful, until I came up with a plan to save us all. Even though we are no longer under the caretaker's shield and the fog had dissipated, I would be damned if I left my people to perish without a fight. I am Stephan Crommenigge, the most feared pirate of the North Sea!“
August 15th
„This will be my last entry. I can no longer escape death. Too deep are my wounds. I'm in a cave at the rocks of the seagull cliffs, where my life shall end now. At the dead of night, the impact of cannonballs rang out, the loud bursting of houses was heard, and the inhabitant's screams pierced the night before so calm, as we were attacked. A fleet of Dutch warships had somehow found us, either by chance or on purpose, we do not know and can only guess. But it does not change the result. Mercilessly, they bombarded our island, much faster than we could have prepared to strike back. The foreign troops came ashore and began to fire at everything that moves and was in front of their muskets. I could only listen in terror how they screamed „Vermoord ze allemaal“, „Laat niemand ontsnappen!“, „Verbrand deze door God verlaten plek!“ and „Voor God, Kerk en Vaderland!“, burnt our houses and murdering everyone: Men, freaks, women, children, even the cattle and poultry were decapitated and the corpses incinerated. It was horrible. I should have been a hero and fought with my men until death do us part. But I decided otherwise, for the world must learn there are things in this world, which befoul us, harm us, and are hidden from us by a someone. I had to shield my knowledge. Preserve it for posterity. This is my task and I did what had to be done.
Like a coward, I ran away to the seagull cliffs, hoping to be save there. Not to be found. But some of the soldiers saw and followed me, until they lost the trail at the cliffs. I presume these flying devils got attentive of and ambushed them, because they came too close. Unfortunately, they also saw me, bloodied by abrasions and cross-cut musket bullets I also exerted an attraction to them, causing them to also attack me now. With my last ounce of strength, I managed to flee into that small cave someone must have carved into the rock at some point. Maybe it was the caretaker, who knows. I don't know who, but will be grateful to the person even in the afterlife.
I now sit here with pain and sense the life slowly leaving my body in sheer agony, and the makeshift fire spending me one last light and warmth extinguishing like my flame of light. My legs are numb through the cold, breathing gets harder by the minute and the pale light slowly expires in my eyes. While I'm relentlessly forced to listen to the agonizing screams of my mates and village, I - with my last strength - write these lines into my journal with effort. The acrid smell of burning wood, straw, and meat permeates the air, the thick smoke pierces in my lounge.
Who could have thought that my tomb would be one cold and made of rocks. Not the sea as usual with pirates, with ship and crew or beach, close to my family. I was not granted this fortune. Thus, I lay here alone now, with nothing than my clothes on my body, a blunderbuss with merely one shot left, a feather with ink plus journal, and a memorandum with a formula the caretaker once placed in my bag. One last gift to me. The memorandum states that this is his last request to me.
He had prepared everything before his escape. Now it would be up to me to end it. To speak this last formula to grant nature and history an end to this nightmare. All I had to do was to clearly read the formula aloud and sacrifice my blood. I owed him nothing, but he said no one should possess the power that had gathered on this island through the years. My last words will be the ritual, before I will put an end to my suffering with the blunderbuss. May god have mercy on me, forgive my family and mates, of that we will all reunite in purgatory.
Written Stephan Crommenigge“
Gramlin + Girlfriend
Karpfisch