Pinkerton Bestiary Log 8: Nymphs

This shapeshifting class is one of the sadder creatures you’ll ever meet should you encounter one. Like the elementals, they are rare, and like the elementals, their primary role is environmental caretaking. But unlike the elementals, we know where they come from. They are the remnants of a spell. It’s unclear if this was an Antediluvian spell or something conjured up by the ancient Greeks, but whatever the case may be, this class of creature has been nearly wiped out.

While they are immortal, something not even the vampires can claim, they can be killed just like any other man when they are in their human state. They are exclusively women, and if my theory about the elementals is correct, then like elementals, they require human men, but their situation differs wildly, and I’ll address that shortly.

First, I need to explain their major ability. They can shapeshift into trees, grass, water, whatever they happen to be touching, provided it hasn’t been tampered with by men. They are impossible to kill in this state. If one merges into a tree and that tree is cut down, her . . . particles, I suppose, will simply move to the uninjured portion of the plant. If the grass is burned, she appears at the other end of the field. This makes the creatures hard to kill, but not impossible. Most of the violent encounters with nymphs have been with loggers. They won’t come after them if they are simply cutting down a handful of trees, but if the nymphs feel the entire forest is being threatened, then they’ll attack in force. During these encounters, they’ll rush the loggers, and it will take a while for the men to figure out what’s going on because the women seem to disappear. But eventually two or three of the nymphs are killed when they charge the loggers in their human state, and the attack stops. The numbers I’ve typically seen have been five to six nymphs attacking: two or three of them are killed, but there are about nine to ten loggers wounded or dead. I hope it is now apparent why there are so few of them. They kill more men each time, but humans vastly outnumber them. Normally, the loggers will attribute these attacks to crazed nature worshipers, but if one knows the pattern, it’s easy to see what happened.

Of all the creatures listed thus far, they are the first regional creature. They were originally in Greece, but they have migrated north and east over time, and they might have traveled as far as Georgia and Romania. It’s hard to tell because it seems the Carpathian Mountains have given them trouble. We know they can traverse across open land, but there must be some limit to how far they can travel. This limitation could be weather, but they have more endurance than a human, so, again, the issue is unclear.

Nymphs are most often found toward the center of forests and are usually gathered around running water. There are said to be multiple kinds of nymphs: water nymphs, tree nymphs, ect. But the Order’s experience suggests that these are the same basic creatures found in various locations in the forest. Their population might be in the hundreds, but unlike vampires, who are constantly intermingling with humans, these creatures are very isolated, so accurate estimations are impossible.

In terms of how they came to be, we know that there was a group of women who asked a witch how to live forever. Magic, demonic or otherwise, is not my field, so my understanding of this is very limited. But from what I’ve heard, such Faustian bargains must be made with a cost that is almost as great as the problem one is trying to solve. Or, perhaps, there can be multiple costs of lesser value; again, I am unclear, but the bottom line is that the witch granted them immortality, but at the cost of their freedom, in a sense.

They were condemned to be caretakers of the forests, so like the elementals, they fill their time by taking care of animals, but they also care for plants, and they have a limited ability to heal. Their major function is to limit the spread of plagues among a species, but they can also heal wounds. In terms of their healing factor, their powers are relatively weak. A fully fed vampire can close a wound in nearly an instant, whereas a nymph might need closer to an hour. Presumably, this healing factor is what makes their immortality possible.

And these women paid another price for their immortality. Their minds have been dulled. That’s really the only way I can describe it. They are not insane. They are not stupid. They may be naive, but not nearly so naïve as the elemental I encountered. Perhaps another way to put it is that a sort of programming has overshadowed their will. Not only are they unable to leave their role in the forest, but they have no desire to do so. They are uniform in this respect. They are also forced into a rabid state when their territory is threatened. This is why they attack the loggers the way that they do. There’s no thought behind it. They’re like wolves attacking in a pack. And they have another peculiar problem. This brings me to the unpleasant subject of their breeding.

This is one of the rare cases where I’ve found that the lore overstates the truth, but not by much. Most of the time, it’s the exact opposite problem; the fairy tales dramatically understate the situation. But in this case, I’ve found little evidence of a particular detail, the legendary claim of nympholepsy. But that’s not to say the legend doesn’t have some basis in fact. Some men would certainly become obsessed with a woman who walks around unclad and dotes on you all hours of the day and night, but on the other extreme, some of their suitors are so terrified they act sycophantic.

Let’s just say that nymphs take marriage very, very, seriously. I heard one priest from the Order state that nymphs are the bane of Casanovas throughout Europe, and this is very true. They don’t abduct men, but they do fall in love with them, and if the fool is stupid enough to have what he considers a one-night adventure with the woman, she does not take kindly to that. If she’s feeling benevolent, she’ll drown him. If water is not at hand, she’ll rip him to pieces— literally.

This isn’t a conscious choice on their part. It’s an imprinting or some kind of instinct. They suddenly find themselves with supernatural strength, enough to tear a man’s head clean off. And when the whole thing is done, she won’t remember a thing. She literally forgets the man exists. I’ve seen it.

There was a man; let’s call him Jacob—read your Bible to find out why—who wanted to marry a girl. His father did not approve, and his father happened to be a notorious warlock—or wizard; the terms are interchangeable to me. And since he was a warlock, he knew about a nest of nymphs residing in a forest nearby. He was using them to help him find rare herbs for his various “spells.” Really, I think he was making poisons. There had been reports of several of his neighbors dying under mysterious circumstances. Most of the town suspected him, but there was no proof. Whatever the case was, I later learned the nymphs knew nothing of his true intentions. The father told one of the nymphs that Jacob was in love with her. The nymph had seen him from afar while giving the father some herbs and expressed interest in him, so he’d decided that his son was going to reciprocate her affection, whether he knew it or not.

Unfortunately, both Jacob and his would-be wife were well-known alcoholics. (They were probably into other substances as well, but they never admitted to using them. This was a Greek couple, and I had two priests from the Order with me to translate, so they were hesitant to divulge all the details.) So, the father got them drunk and probably used something of his own making as well. He lured the would-be wife into a room and his son into a tent, where he spent the night with the nymph instead.

Fortunately, Jacob knew about the nymphs as well, so when he woke up and saw a woman half caked in dirt and smelling like pine, he knew exactly what had happened. He pretended like everything was fine, and after finally convincing the woman to take a bath, he had it out with his father. The father was unrepentant, but Jacob had another stroke of luck. His would-be wife happened to overhear the conversation. She didn’t believe in nymphs herself, but she still understood that the father had tricked them and that his son was convinced that the woman was truly one of the ancient creatures of the forest.

She didn’t leave him, but they were in quite a bind. They were legally married, but now there was another woman—in the wife’s mind, a very sick woman—who would not go away. To make matters worse, while the nymph was perfectly fine with sharing her man, she insisted that they all return to the forest. Her duty was in the forest, and while she couldn’t leave her husband, they could not live in the world of men forever.

Jacob threaded the needle like a champ. Really, he should’ve been a politician. He managed to stay out of the nymph’s embrace without making her feel scorned, but the woman refused to wear clothes and was constantly trying to go outside so she could at least see the sun. The couple lived in the country, so the nymph was able to get away with this for a while, but eventually, neighbors began to complain, and reports were given to the police, but the police wouldn’t go near Jacob’s house because they were scared of his father, the notorious warlock. Finally, one of the neighbors went to a priest. That priest happened to work for the Order, and I was called in to break up this supernatural union without anyone getting killed.

I remember entering Jacob’s home and speaking with the nymph. I was amazed by how rational she sounded. She carried on a conversation in a perfectly normal way, and when the subject of her marriage was brought up, her logic was ironclad. She had been a virgin. She’d waited a thousand years to give up her virtue, and now that she had, she was married. I felt great pity for the woman. Supernatural blinders or not, if I’d waited a thousand years for “the one,” then found myself tricked, I would’ve been angry too. I don’t think I would’ve ripped anyone’s head off, but I could see myself using a gun.

Anyway, pity or not, the priests assured me polygamy wasn’t the answer, so my job was the same. I needed to find a way to break the spell that had been placed on the nymph. That was step one. After that, there could be another conversation about what she was supposed to do, and she’d be in a frame of mind to listen. Now, one of the things that is very important to understand when dealing with magical spells is that they work just like a lawyer’s contract. This makes sense considering most spells come from demons. After reading The Devil and Daniel Webster, I set out to discover the precise wording of this spell.

Since the nymph had said she’d waited a thousand years to give up her virtue, I knew she wasn’t of the first generation, but I had a feeling that since the spell lasted multiple generations, she would have precise knowledge of its wording. It would be like a memory buried into her DNA. I was wrong in this, but I did learn something interesting.

When the nymphs reach a certain age, they are given a choice to become nymphs or “enter man’s wilderness,” as they call it. And I learned something else. One of the matriarch nymphs, the first generation, must be alive to recast the spell. This discovery changed everything concerning our knowledge about the nymphs. But as usual, the Order has ignored my “anecdotal” accounts. One is never enough, even though there were two priests with me who heard it. If a matriarch needed to be present, that meant the first-generation nymphs weren’t as ignorant about the transaction as they’d been depicted. They were more likely understudies of the witch or something like that. Number two: Deforestation might not be the only thing removing the nymphs from Europe. If the matriarchs were finally dying because of that deforestation, then they wouldn’t be able to make as many nymphs. Number three: If the spell required a matriarch, and we removed the matriarchs, then we might be able to save the rest of them. From what I understand, spells often die with the person who cast them.

I should note a hot-blooded hunter might’ve rushed into the forest to kill the matriarch, but that would be unwise. This is the first time, to my knowledge, a matriarch was ever mentioned. We don’t know their power level. And we don’t know for sure that removing the matriarch would undo the curse. I have one friend among the wizards, and I intend to ask about this in person when there is less suspicion on him, but much more preparation is required before any effort can be made. This might also require the help of the Order, because this would be a large-scale effort to find all the nymphs’ nests. A lot of priests and hunters will be needed, and adequate defenses will have to be prepared to protect ourselves against beings who are impossible to kill every time they shapeshift. So, to organize such an effort, I must first make the Order believe me, which will require multiple nymphs confirming that these matriarchs exist.

I shook the hopes of solving a longstanding problem away from my mind and continued pressing the woman until she gave me the precise wording of the spell. My ears twitched when I heard the words, “You must punish the one who caused your pain.” The spell meant the man that used the nymph’s body, but I could twist it to mean the man who had tricked Jacob. I could also manipulate the word “punish” to something less extreme, but as I was explaining to the woman how Jacob’s father had tricked him into sleeping with her, the father entered the house.

As I said before, the woman, though enchanted, wasn’t dumb. She didn’t need me to explain the entire situation. The moment he stepped into the kitchen, the spell took over. She leapt from her chair and ripped him apart before I’d finished my sentence. Was that coincidence or providence? I’ll let you decide.

Then something astonishing happened. While she was still standing in the man’s blood, she forgot he existed. I don’t mean she forgot about killing him. I mean she forgot everything connected to him. If I hadn’t asked how she’d met the father before bringing up the marriage, I never would’ve learned about the herbs. As Jacob entered the room, she looked around, blinking. Her eyes landed on him and asked, “Who are you? I’m in a house. How did I get in here? Can you help me?”

Jacob understood what had happened, and that father must’ve been something truly terrible because I saw his lip twitch up in a smile before he thought better of it and tried to look shocked. But, happy or not, he helped the woman, leading her back into the forest.

So, should I have carted the girl away for murder? I don’t think so. For one thing, I’m pretty sure that warlock was killing his enemies around town, and when I say pretty sure, I mean somewhere in the ninety percent range. It would’ve taken a DNA swab to make it a hundred. For another, what good would it have done? She didn’t know what had happened. And what would the police have done with her? Her fingerprints wouldn’t match anything, and are they supposed to believe that petite woman ripped a burly man to shreds without a scratch? No. It was best to leave things as they were. Jacob and I burned the body. The priests helped. Oh, and, by the way, Jacob quit drinking.

The whole reason this business exists is because some things are out of law enforcement’s depth, and we have to make our own calls. That was one of mine, and I’m not sorry for it. As to how to fight nymphs, you’re probably not going to be in a situation like that. The whole “nymph in love” scenario isn’t as common as it used to be. Usually, there’s been an attack against the loggers, so we find the nest and relocate it to another forest, but we make sure that it’s still nearby because we don’t want the nymphs spreading. To do this, you’ll have to transport them with a truck or trailer and make sure that you cover the floor with dirt from their territory. They’re sort of like Dracula in that way. If you don’t and the distance is too far, they’ll get sick and die before you can reach their new location.

But the other point I want to make is about magic. Those types of contracts usually have a loophole. Try that before you resort to violence if you can. And as for dealing with the matriarchs, it’s something I hope to do one day. Perhaps you’ll stand with me.