Fjallkonan #43 | 3 November 1900

21 MAY

I NO LONGER DOUBT THAT THIS CASTLE IS HOME TO hideous demons—not human beings with hearts and conscience.

I shall now explain in a few words what I have discovered.²²¹

I have repeatedly studied the octagonal room, searching for the exit that I was convinced had to be there, although I had yet to find it.²²²

Last night, after the Count had gone to bed—and I assumed he’d be fast asleep—I decided to make one more attempt.

I opened my bedroom door, lit all the candles, and investigated every inch of the small room.²²³

I guessed that the secret passage had to be right across from my bedroom door. In effect, the octagonal room has only four walls large enough for a door, as the diagonal panels at the corners aren’t wide enough for passage. In two of the walls were the doors I already knew about—one leading to my bedroom and the other one to the dining room—and as one of the remaining sides backed an outer castle wall, there was only one side left. After a long search I found a triangular button on the floor. I stepped on it. Immediately, and without a sound, a door wide and high enough for me to walk through opened up in the wall.

Now I saw how it was possible for the old lady to disappear in an instant every time she left the dining room.

Cautiously, I shined my light into the doorway and saw a broad corridor, which I assumed during daytime would get light from a window above. At the end of the hallway I saw a stairway leading down.

I rushed to my room to fetch matchsticks and my revolver, then lit the candle in my train lantern,²²⁴ before starting my expedition down the stairs. They descended gradually and it was clear they were used often. I felt vigorous and high-spirited—I had finally found the exit I’d sought for so long. I went down the steps and proceeded as cautiously as possible.

I startled and stopped dead in my tracks when I heard the echo of some sound I couldn’t identify. This reverberation seemed to come up from deep below the ground. I soon found, however, that it was the sound of trumpets, but then the music slowly faded away. As I stood there stock-still, listening, I thought I could make out a dozen²²⁵ horns or trumpets.²²⁶

I was so horrified by these sounds, truly terrified for the first time in my life, that I was about to turn back.

I managed to brace myself, however, and continued down the stairs.

I had been circumspect enough to take off the shoes I usually wore and put on slippers instead. I made no more noise than a fly. When I went down another floor, the sound was clearer and I could hear people talking—their voices striking me as primitive and aggressive. I heard many people speaking at once, like when school children are reciting something by heart, as in the old days.

Then I detected a strange smell, and when I lifted my lamp I saw thin streaks of bluish smoke drifting up the staircase.

I was becoming very curious and no longer thinking of the danger that could be—or most likely was—waiting for me, should I go any further. At any cost, I had to see what was happening down there.

I headed down another stairway, just as careful as before. It was a spiral staircase cut into rock, and I guessed that I was now below the castle’s ground level. I wondered if these stairs would ever end!

Finally I saw a gleam of fire down in the deep, while the chords from below grew to a crescendo.

I extinguished my light straight away and froze on the spot.

The glow of a fire shone through a low door at the foot of the stairs²²⁷ and cast its light on the nethermost steps, the smoke obscuring the end of the stairway like a fog. I went farther down the stairs, pressing myself to the darker side of the wall. Finally I made it to the door and reluctantly peeked through it.

I relaxed when I saw that the door didn’t lead to the domed space from which the glow came, but instead opened up to a kind of balcony, from which a winding staircase led down towards a hall where the fiery glow and voices originated. I crawled onto the balcony and was able to hide myself behind the lattice.

Even if I live to be a hundred years old, I will never forget the sight I witnessed there.

There was a large arched vault down below, with a very low ceiling held up by two stout pillars supporting the roof. It appeared that the walls weren’t made of brickwork but were carved into the rock. They were pitch-black with soot left by the burning torches—the source of the light I had seen—and the waves of smoke billowing up the stairs.

Below me was a mass of people, men and women in separate groups; there might have been 150 people altogether.

Never have I seen faces with such distinct animalistic features. I refer to them as such because they are the kind of traits we find to be normal in other creatures, but we think them repulsive in humans. It was as though I could, to some extent, recognize the faces, but I couldn’t immediately recall where I’d seen them. But after some further thought, I realized I had seen similar features in Count Dracula’s family portraits! When I try to recall the impression their appearances made on me, I remember they seemed more diabolical than beastlike.

They were all bare to the waist, and it was horrendous to see their yellowish-brown frames, with muscular structures more like that of apes than humans. When in full harmony, the human body is the noblest work of nature, but here, the combination of their primitive look, build and posture created something more beastly than human.²²⁸

It seemed as though some kind of religious ritual were taking place.