How to Get Diary of Dr. Peter Paulaner Diaries No. 2 (April, 1913) | Dying Light The Beast

Dr. Peter Paulaner's second diary entry is all about his deepening fear of all the horror he saw at the St. Valentine Asylum. He realized that he was now complicit in all of these events.

His month of April was full of constant screams while Dr. Fischer worked late in a private lab. By observing patients like Roberto Wald and Annabella Riedl, Dr. Paulaner realized that these people were being tested and not treated voluntarily.

He was further terrified when he visited Fischer's great-grandson, Viktor, who was obviously fascinated by the patients' suffering. Despite wanting to leave after seeing a deceased patient, Jonas Reiss, who was being kept as a vessel for experiments, Dr. Paulaner was now held captive in what he had thought was a place that would change his life for the better.

DIARY OF PETER PAULANER NO.2 (APRIL 1913)

Diary Entry 8 (April 1st, 1913):

Every night, the screams echo through the asylum's halls. I have taken to writing this diary in the dead of night, the sound of distant wails keeping me awoke. Fischer works late into the night in his private laboratory, always alone. The staff grows uneasy, and I overhear their murmurs-rumors of unnatural phenomena, of things that move in the shadows. I am starting to believe them.

Diary Entry 9 (April 4th, 1913):

Patient #032, Roberto Wald, claims to communicate with the dead. Fischer's attempts to suppress this behavior through medication have failed. Today, during a routine session, electromagnetic readings spiked wildly, and Fischer seemed pleased. I, on the other hand, felt something—an energy that made the hair on my arms stand on end. Fischer is no longer simply treating patients. He's testing them. And I am complicit in this atrocity.

Diary Entry 10 (April 10th, 1913):

I've noticed changes in my own behavior. I've become withdrawn, avoiding the other staff members. The patients' conditions worsen daily, yet Fischer insists that we are on the brink of a "breakthrough." Patient #045, Annabella Riedl, has begun to move objects in her vicinity without touching them-small things, at first. But today, a chair flung itself across the room during one of her manic episodes. Fischer was delighted.

Diary Entry 11 (April 13th, 1913):

Today, something unexpected occurred. Heinrich Fischer's great grandson, a boy of no more than eight or nine, visited the asylum with his mother. His name is Viktor. It was an odd thing to see-a child in this place of misery and darkness. But what disturbed me most was Viktor himself. There is something unsettling about him, a coldness in his eyes. I saw him watching as Patient #023, Edith Mallor, convulsed during her treatment. He smiled. Children should not understand such suffering, but Viktor seemed fascinated, almost... excited by it. I tried to shake off the feeling, but I cannot forget the look in his eyes.

Diary Entry 12 (April 16th, 1913):

I am beginning to suspect that not all the patients here were admitted voluntarily. I overheard a conversation between Fischer and a man from the mainland. They spoke of "acquisitions" as though they were discussing livestock. I must look into the records, but Fischer guards them closely. What kind of man is he?

Diary Entry 13 (April 20th, 1913):

The temperature in the asylum is unnaturally cold. Even in the warmer months, I can see my breath when I enter certain rooms. Fischer insists this is due to "shifts in energy" from the patients. He grows more obsessive by the day, poring over ancient texts in a language I cannot decipher. He believes he's tapping into something... older than us, older than St. Valentine itself.

Diary Entry 14 (April 23rd, 1913):

I've finally confirmed it. Patient #001, Jonas Reiss, died three weeks ago during an electroshock session. But his body remains in the restricted ward, strapped to the table, unmoving. Fischer calls him "the vessel," and I fear that he is trying to bridge the gap between life and death. What horrors have I witnessed?

Diary Entry 15 (April 28th, 1913):

There is a room in the deepest part of the asylum that no one speaks of. I found it by accident today. It was locked, but I could hear... something inside. Something not human. I've resolved to leave this place. But Fischer watches me closely now, as though he knows my every thought.

Diary Entry 16 (April 30th, 1913):

I cannot leave. Fischer has made it clear that I am to remain here until the "project" is complete. He keeps me close, assigns me more patients, but I know he's using me. I've seen the patients' bodies-distorted, disfigured by his experiments. And still, they live.

Found on a bookshelf at the second floor of the building.