The Journals of Barnabas Collins


Angelique’s actions of late are peculiar even for her.  Weddings — even elopements — are hardly ala carte.  And yet she keeps ordering them and canceling them with a changeability that is dizzying.  I am attempting to do what I can all the while keeping the Governess Winters safe from Trask.  First Collinwood, then a stable, now here.  When will it end?  For a moment, I countenanced that she was the witch, but then I thought better of it.

This evening, she revealed to me that she (believes she) is from the year 1967, brought to this place by a séance.  A week ago, this assertion would have been absurd.  Now?  I certainly want to believe it.

It means that this wretched family has an endurance… indeed my namesake will endure, as well.  As fanciful as this seems, I am driven to fight for her.  Never before have I…

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