E.Y.

My Dearest Emilia, London December, 1890

How I have longed to see you again after our bittersweet departure last Autumn, the harsh winter preceding only grew my longing for you as I continued my studies. London has been a cold place without you but I shall strive to keep moving forward for you and to keep myself afloat. In my contempt I have strangely grown fond of the grey skies and darkness that hovers over London’s fog and soot covered streets. The lamplight on the streets at dusk plays with the shadows of the coming night but brings no warmth as I make the trek back to your Uncle’s abode after my studies. Enough about that, I shall recount my days spent here. When I wake in the morn’ I take a hansom down to the University to attend the day's lectures. You mustn't believe how much I’ve taken to my studies, it is quite interesting what the human body has yet to let us discover. In the anatomical theatre Dr. George discusses the mystical revelations science has found about the human body. After he removes each organ from the cadaver they are passed around the hall for us to inspect before being put into jars filled with formaldehyde to maintain their longevity. But do not fret, I am quite prepared to dissect one on my own as you had been teasing me about before I left. I feel certain that as soon as the knife is in my hand I will be able to make the cut. And I shall tell you I do keep in good company, your uncle has been too generous with his home and I am ever so grateful for him. I do hope one day you will join me but until then keep peace knowing I am well taken care of by Dr. Burton.

Love Always, Vincent

My Dearest Emilia, London, December 1890

I am still awaiting your response from my previous letter, yet I still had to write as this cannot wait to reach you. Something has occurred. I am still unsure as to the details but I will continue to write as this has become of importance. Dr. Burton has been hearing whispers of a queer practice, the "Resurrectionists" they were called. He seems adamant that I keep an eye open while at my studies but I do not yet know what I am meant to do if I were to encounter one. He tells me to report it to him but how am I to know if I see them if he has not told me what they do? He seems to want to keep my mind closed but I am too curious for that. I will continue my studies and write again when I discover more, as this has struck an interesting chord with me. I have not forgotten about you Emilia, let me know you have not forgotten about me.

Love

Always, Vincent

My Dear Emilia, London, January 1891

I hope the new year has been treating you well as I have some news. I heard something today. As I was leaving the amphitheater I dropped my books and went to pick them up hearing some murmurs discussing some group called "Resurrections". But it was strange. Someone was speaking with a hushed voice as he had not seen me ducked behind the chairs. He stated a detail pertaining to meeting in the old Sycamore Graveyard at midnight in a few days time. I waited behind the chairs for him to leave the theater before I left. When I brought this to your uncle he said to leave them be and report it to the bobbies, but there is an itch I cannot scratch and you know how impatient I am. I stayed awake for days on end questioning what to do, but I knew once the night fell I would be there. Emilia, I must know what is to happen. I will tell you once the night has come.

Love, Vincent

Emilia, London, January 1891

A corpse was taken. I snuck out before midnight and went to the graveyard to see the person and he unearthed a man of the name Franz. His headstone had an upside down torch marking his early departure from this world. He had only died a few days prior. Why has he done this? He was only thirty-two, my mind reels to think of the life snuffed out. The smell was of something I cannot describe. With each spade-full of dirt he moved with the swiftness of some creature in the dark. I couldn’t move, his face was unlike anything I have ever witnessed. The glow was unnatural in the lamplight of the scavenger pulling him up out of his resting place. I can’t get his face out of my mind…. Whenever I sleep I see him…. What is there to do

Vincent

E,

I have stopped going to lectures. The morn’ after I found him, Franz had been on the table for me to dissect. His face was still, pleading, begging ‘You saw him drag me out of my resting place and did NOTHING. Vincent, my family is praying over dirt, and here you are readying to continue my suffering.’ I couldn’t do it. The knife was in my hand but the rest of my body was as still as him. I cannot face what is left of me. I don’t know. Why have I done this, I am sorry

V

I am ready.

I have always been ready.

You must believe me. I told him.

I'm in my chambers. The door is locked, the knife in my hand. This time I’m ready. I take my hand and plunge into my abdomen, this time I will not freeze. Emilia, I will be with you soon.