Scroll down for Parts 1, 2, and 3 of this story. Happy Halloween.

The medallion. Is it our medallion? As I take the chain from around my neck and prepare to seal it in this box with my letter to you, I shiver with fear and foreboding. This heavy piece of silver is undeniably old and the impression of the wolf with its head thrown back, its mouth frozen in the act of howling, fits with the story I am telling. And the words embedded into the silver—their Cyrillic letters read: “Segru: Runs with the Wolf.” The pieces fall into place.

Unfortunately, this is as much of the story as Father knew. He did not know whether Lucian succeeded in his mission to murder his own and only family. Father did think that Lucian survived and, ultimately, had children of his own. In the Tirgue courthouse, there is a decrepit parchment, much of it composed in the old tongue. On the parchment is a family tree that begins with the name Vlad Segru. No spouse is listed, but two sons—Lucian and Adrian, descend from Vlad. Lucian’s line ends with two familiar names: Laura and Anna Segru. Therefore, it seems that you and I are descended from Lucian. Father said that there are no descendants listed from Adrian. However, he noted that if Lucian did not succeed in killing his twin brother, and if Adrian had children, he doubted that their births or lives would be recorded anywhere. Thus, we live with uncertainty.

I leave the medallion with you, for I fear I can no longer protect both you and your progeny from afar. I soon will disappear from civilization, if it can be called such, here in this small town deep in the Appalachian Mountains. I have met a man—a native. In this small town, fornicating with a native is considered sinful, particularly by those who believe that the whiter one’s skin color, the closer one is to God. Of course, we’re not white ourselves, are we? I, in particular, have the dark olive-brown skin of our ancestors. Yet, even this town’s lady of the night, dark-skinned though I may be, is not allowed to consort openly with an Indian. Although I have run halfway around the world from the superstitions and accusations, the taunts always catch up with me. People sense something malevolent about me—perhaps the taint of Vlad. Therefore, my livelihood, as disrespectful as it is, is threatened, and to survive, I must run again.

I can think of nothing left to say, except I love you.

Your sister, Laura

P.S. I suspect that my letter has distressed and confused you. I’m sorry, but I see no other way to pass along my knowledge of our shared history. A final word of warning from your loving sister—Father knew of one other legend concerning the Segru family that you must heed. The tale told is that any possible descendants of Adrian are unable to procreate without the help of one of the descendants of Lucian. That is, if they want to continue as shape-shifters. I’m sure you can understand what this means without my being too indelicate. Please be careful and remember me in your prayers. With love, Laura.

Editor’s note: This letter was discovered with the effects of Carlos Segru, grandson of Anna Segru Stone. Also with it were notes indicating that Mrs. Stone tried to find her sister, Laura Segru, but no one she contacted in North Carolina or on the Cherokee Reservation Lands in Oklahoma knew of Laura Segru or of her mysterious lover. We assume that Mrs. Stone never heard from her sister again.

Anna Segru Stone had six grandchildren, including Carlos. Four of them died in tragic circumstances. Neither of the two surviving grandchildren nor the medallion have been located.

Yes, that’s me and Enviro-spouse, dressed for the Blogger Costume Ball and a second wild party at my friend T’s home. Needless to say, my whip was a hit (I know, I know).

The kids did not like me in the black wig, but when Oedipus, Jr., saw the fishnets, he said, “Ohhhhh, Mommy,” and started running his little hands up and down my legs.

Weirdly, they didn’t seem to think their Dad looked much different. Is there something you haven’t been telling me, E?

For more photos from the Blogger Ball, visit Blogasheville.

Anyone else have photos or costume party tales to share?

If you haven’t read the third installment of Genesis, it’s below. I’ll post the finale tonight. Eat lots of candy for me today.

Scroll down for Parts One and Two. Stay tuned for the exciting conclusion of Genesis on All Hallow’s Eve.

My dear Anna, I know this story sounds like one of the fairy tales we grew up hearing—the stories that our parents would tell us in subdued voices to frighten us into going to bed or to keep us from wandering into the woods alone. But when Father told me this story, there was none of the poorly concealed humor that lay beneath the tales he told us in our childhood. He believed.

So, begging your tired eyes to read on, I will continue the story of evil Vlad and his consort. The unnatural couple lived for many years in the Segru family cave, and no one who knew of them would venture near. Those animals and humans unfortunate enough to stray into the vicinity of the infamous cave were pounced upon, murdered, and consumed. Father said that, to this day, none of the village people of Tirgue will go near the area that once sustained Vlad and the she-wolf. This explains why we were shunned and ousted from our home after Father died. We no longer had a protector from the superstitious and uneducated peasants.

The next part of the story is even stranger and more wondrous. After many years, Vlad and the she-wolf, probably through black magic, managed to produce twin babies. Supposedly, these creatures had the ability to take the shape of either their mother or their father at will. I know our Darwinist friends would dispute this possibility, but they do not know as much about the world as they think. These unfortunate creatures could be either wolf or human, depending on their whim. Vlad was delighted with the couple’s success at creating such hybrids, and he and the she-wolf trained the two males in the strengths of both species–and in the unnatural ways of their parents.

The twins, as siblings often do, had quite different personalities. One child was as evil as his parents and delighted in death and mayhem. His name was Adrian. The other was born with a conscience, a conscience that made him question his way of life and the abnormality of his own existence. This child’s name was Lucian. As the boy grew into a man, Lucian became more and more interested in the world beyond the fetid Segru home and wanted to venture out into it. His father warned him that if people discovered his identity or his shape-shifting abilities, Lucian would be hunted down and killed. However, the young man decided to take that chance, and he left his family to explore the world. His true nature was not discovered for many years. He changed into a wolf only when necessary for his survival. He stopped eating human flesh and tried to integrate himself into the society of men.

One day Lucian happened upon a tribe of gypsies. Somehow, they recognized him as a Segru and knew what he was. The gypsies captured Lucian and took him to their king. This gypsy king was a great magician and fortune-teller whose ability to see the future was renowned throughout the eastern world. When confronted with the spawn of Vlad and the she-wolf, the king offered Lucian a choice. If he would give up his ability to change into a wolf and do everything in his power to rid the world of his evil parents and brother, the king would let him live. If not, Lucian would be sacrificed.

As Lucian already had decided to give up his monstrous ability, he easily agreed to that part of the king’s decree. In fact, if he had wanted to, he could have changed into a wolf an any time to escape the gypsies who imprisoned him. Yet, despite his knowledge that his parents and brother were inherently evil, he did not wish them death. Lucian spent many hours discussing the morality of killing his family with the king. Eventually, he agreed that the world was best rid of the unnatural Segrus.

The gypsy king then crafted a magical medallion for Lucian to wear. This medallion would help him control any bestial tendencies he might retain. It also would protect him from his parents, brother and any other potential descendants of Vlad—who might seek to destroy him just as Vlad and the she-wolf had extinguished their closest kin. Lucian promised to pass the medallion to his oldest child before he died and to tell that child to pass the medallion down through future generations, even if Lucian succeeded in killing Vlad, the she-wolf, and his brother, Adrian.

Scroll down for Genesis–Part One.

Father emphasized over and over, and I do believe this, for some deep part of my soul tells me it is true, that the curse specifies that the medallion must stay with the Segru family, preferably with the oldest known living member, and that person must stay in contact with the other living Segrus, or ill will befall them all.

Father and Mother chose not to heed this part of the curse, and they paid dearly. Ultimately, Father believed that they paid with their lives. After thinking for many years that the curse was merely a superstitious tale, Father died a believer.

I know this sounds unscientific to your modern ears, as it did to mine. An ancient curse? A medallion with magical properties? Please, please try to suspend your disbelief—as I have. Since learning of the curse, I have ruminated long on the untimely and tragic deaths of much of our family. Like Father, I now believe.

Back to the tale I must tell. You well know the family motto: “Segru: Runs with the Wolf,” as it is imprinted on the medallion in the language of our ancestors. Supposedly, those people lived a primitive, tribal existence in the caves near our home in the Carpathian Mountains. Remember the taunts and insults of the townspeople of Tirgue? As children, we could not understand why we were treated as outcasts. As I tell this story, the anger and fears of the townspeople will begin to make sense to you.

A long, long time ago, the Segrus domesticated a pack of wolves. The Segru family wolf pack were important members of the tribe. The wolves helped the family hunt, kept them warm at night, and provided protection, both from beasts of the forests and from enemies.

Remember how frightened we were as children listening to the wolves howl through the mountain night? Remember Father telling us not to be afraid, that the wolves would never harm us, that they remembered us and knew our family? We would roll our eyes at each other and think that he was crazy. But our fears were quelled.

The Segrus and their wolves survived together for many years, until a horrible event occurred, an event that left only one Segru alive: he who, unfortunately, is our direct progenitor. This man, Vlad Segru, did something that we all do, yet with terrible consequences.

Vlad Segru fell in love. But his love was wrong and unnatural and would cause violent death to many, including his family. This is the part that you may find difficult to comprehend. Vlad Segru fell in love with a she-wolf, a member of the wolf pack that lived with the family.

When his family discovered this bestial relationship, they begged Vlad to forego his lust. He refused. So the family ousted Vlad and the she-wolf, abandoning them to the wilds of the forest. Vlad was a cruel and angry man, and he vowed revenge. Late one night, in the fury of their passion, Vlad and the she-wolf crept into the Segru cave and murdered all of the family and the wolf pack. Then they feasted on the bodies of the dead.

In honor of the upcoming holiday, I’m giving you a story I wrote, in installments. Here is part one.

June 25, 1896

My dear sister Anna,

The medallion is around my neck, although it will be there for only a few more hours. Upon opening the box accompanying this letter, you will be surprised to find it, our one family heirloom, which I send to you with love. Guard the medallion with your life. Why? You will understand when you finish reading this letter. What I am about to tell you could be dangerous to you and your children. Please commit the contents of this missive to memory, then burn it.

I imagine you are sighing aloud and wondering why I again assume the role of dramatic, imperious elder sister. This time you must trust that I am serious. I fear for our lives if what I am about to tell you is true. And I am beginning to think that it may be so.

Written here for the first time are the stories that Father told me before he died. You have always thought that I am the brave, strong one, but you are wrong. I am weak and frightened and I have been too cowardly to tell you anything of importance: these stories or that I was abandoning you. I know now that I was destined to come to these mountains, to this wilderness. This place is so similar to our distant homeland. But I digress. I am putting off the inevitable.

I must disappear, again, and I do not know when or whether I shall be able to write to you. So, I must reveal, painful as it may be, what I know.

According to Father, there is an ancient curse upon our family. I know this sounds strange and you must think that your sister has regressed to the crazy beliefs of our peasant ancestors, but please, for the sake of your children, read on. Father did not know much about the curse, only that it is entwined with the history of the medallion. Now I will finally tell you what he told me–the story behind the ancient family heirloom that you are holding in your strong hands as you read this. Prepare yourself.

This is the new vanity plate on the front of my Mommy van. E-spouse and my girl presented it to me earlier in the month (the plate, not the van).

I only drive the van when I have to drive carpool as I prefer to zip around town in my mid-life crisis mobile–the Honda Hybrid.

When I do drive it, though, I get lots of laughs, mostly from other Edgy Mamas.

The other day, the plate worked as an, ummmm, conversation starter.

I was leaving the coffee shop with my girl, who was home from school for a teacher workday, and this guy holds the door open, giving us a big smile. Once we’re in the van and waiting to exit the parking lot, I notice he’s in the car in front of us.

Suddenly, he gets out of his car and approaches me. I roll down my window, thinking he’s going to ask me to turn around so he can get out another way.

“So what does Edgy Mama mean?” he asks.
“That’s the name of my blog?” I reply.
“Edgy Mama dot com?”
“Yes. My husband bought the plate for me, but he forgot to include the URL on it.”
“Oh,” says the guy. “So do you blog every day?”
“Just about,” I say. Long pause.
“So you ARE married?”
“Yes, I am,” I say.

Who did he think I was talking about when I said “husband?” My dog? Oh yeah, my dog, Husband, who also shops at the mall.

“Well, I’m —-,” he says.
I introduce myself and shake his hand. He gets back into his car. I decide to turn around and exit the parking lot another direction.

Dispatch just in from Ash’s Dad down in Sarasota. Though Hurricane Wilma may have turned slightly south, AD is prepared. No windy chick with the unfortunate name of Wilma is gonna mess with him.

Here he is, our former boy scout, our current witty commenter, plan in place, ready to evacuate before the potential onslaught of CAT4 Wilma:

Oh, and the sign taped to AD’s back reads: “AshVegas or bust!”

Be careful out there, AD.