From the Journal of Hiram Benniger
19 Sep. 1780,
My collegues and I received a most interesting visit yesterday eve. A man calling himself an interested party asked about our steam engine research. He said was from an influential Bavarian institution that would fund our advances if we agreed to help them with some biological research. I must admit, I feel skeptical that there is any future is such an activity, however my brother scientists expressed excitement. Even so, if they can help push our revolutionary (if you'll forgive the phrase) steam projects, we cannot pass up such an opportunity.
24, Sep. 1780
A most curious creature. Having the main appearance of an insect, this dimunative beast has the dexterity and flexibility of a rodent! It even has the hands of a racoon of some sort. Our Bavarian benefactor calls it a "drakul." Recognizing it instantly as the father of that infamous character Vlad the Impaler, I asked him why they named it so. He just smiled an unpleasant rictus and told us to watch. Soon enough, one of the Bavarian’s colleagues brought in a mouse and dropped it into the insect’s cage.
What happened next was an abomination before God! The strange insect was on the poor mouse as fast as lightning. The poor creature squealed in agony as the insect’s mandibles sunk deep into its flesh. Not all of my fellow scientists could watch the horrific spectacle. Understandable though it was, I found myself transfixed upon the grizzly scene. Though it seemed an eternity, it did not last long before the horrible insect withdrew its gory maw and scuttled into a far corner.
The poor mouse lay there, shivering, emitting pathetic moan-like squeaks. However, as I watched the poor creature lay in what I assumed would be its death throes, the deep wound began to slowly knit itself together. My colleagues and I all drew closer to watch this phenomenon. I tell you now, I would have thought it a miracle had I not witnessed the earlier attack.
The wound closed and disappeared as fur slowly began to grow back. Soon, there was no trace of it! The mouse had stopped its convulsive shivering and lay there quietly. Only movement of its sides told us it was still alive, just in a deep sleep.
The Bavarian waved off the questions we all began to ask at once, telling up to return two days hence, when all of our questions would be answered. I dare say, it was an invitation none of us would dream of refusing!
My collegues and I received a most interesting visit yesterday eve. A man calling himself an interested party asked about our steam engine research. He said was from an influential Bavarian institution that would fund our advances if we agreed to help them with some biological research. I must admit, I feel skeptical that there is any future is such an activity, however my brother scientists expressed excitement. Even so, if they can help push our revolutionary (if you'll forgive the phrase) steam projects, we cannot pass up such an opportunity.
24, Sep. 1780
A most curious creature. Having the main appearance of an insect, this dimunative beast has the dexterity and flexibility of a rodent! It even has the hands of a racoon of some sort. Our Bavarian benefactor calls it a "drakul." Recognizing it instantly as the father of that infamous character Vlad the Impaler, I asked him why they named it so. He just smiled an unpleasant rictus and told us to watch. Soon enough, one of the Bavarian’s colleagues brought in a mouse and dropped it into the insect’s cage.
What happened next was an abomination before God! The strange insect was on the poor mouse as fast as lightning. The poor creature squealed in agony as the insect’s mandibles sunk deep into its flesh. Not all of my fellow scientists could watch the horrific spectacle. Understandable though it was, I found myself transfixed upon the grizzly scene. Though it seemed an eternity, it did not last long before the horrible insect withdrew its gory maw and scuttled into a far corner.
The poor mouse lay there, shivering, emitting pathetic moan-like squeaks. However, as I watched the poor creature lay in what I assumed would be its death throes, the deep wound began to slowly knit itself together. My colleagues and I all drew closer to watch this phenomenon. I tell you now, I would have thought it a miracle had I not witnessed the earlier attack.
The wound closed and disappeared as fur slowly began to grow back. Soon, there was no trace of it! The mouse had stopped its convulsive shivering and lay there quietly. Only movement of its sides told us it was still alive, just in a deep sleep.
The Bavarian waved off the questions we all began to ask at once, telling up to return two days hence, when all of our questions would be answered. I dare say, it was an invitation none of us would dream of refusing!
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