From Marge Hollander's Digest of Demons and Devils: The Chornoho Zabuttya, the hood of oblivion, is described in the ancient Die Tür Des Bösen as a curse of the highest order. It is considered a Doom. The exact method of creation of a Prisoner of Vz is unknown as there are no recorded survivors of this curse. There have been only five recorded sightings of a prisoner of Vz.
One prominent incident from the early twentieth century involved a circus owner who had unknowingly crossed paths with a Priest of Vz. The recent discovery of the diaries of Ms. Cheyenne Svitlo, an amateur reporter and occult detective, brings us new evidence of the incident. She recorded one carnival man's testimony of the dark event:"Cecil had been been missing for well on two months. Everybody thought he'd gone back home to Missouri, but one morning in April, bout the time that the skeeters cum back, we found him near the main carriage tied up and screamin. Nobody could figger how he got thar. Just all of a sudden there he were.
It weren't right what was done to that man. Tha' Devil hisself only could done that to 'im. His face - his face - well...They sewed a black hood on his head like what they use for hangin. They sewed right into his skin. He was bleeding through it and screamin'. It was sewed so tight and in so many places we couldn't get it off without takin his face off with it. It weren't right. Lord, it'd take a mighty hateful soul to do that to anybody.
He was sickly too, that was for sure. I reckon maybe he had an infection from what was done to his head. His skin was all pale and blue and you could see his veins all dark beneath. He weren't long for livin'. We tried to find out what'd happened, who took 'im, but all he did was scream for Barnabas, the owner. We tried to give 'im some whiskey for the pain till we could get a doctor, but he went crazy and broke loose.
He started running around the camp looking for Barnabas. Something was changing in him. His skin had started splittin' and oozin' out this horrible black stuff that smelled like - well it smelled like death is what. Nobody would go near him after that. He just kept screamin' for Baranabas. I hid behind a booth. Pardon me for sayin so ma'am, but I was so skeered I just bout pissed myself.
Barnabas had gone to town and had just cum back when Cecil started running around. Something happened then when Barnabas got close and saw Cecil. It was like somethin passed tween the two a 'em. Cecil stopped screaming and just kinda went slack like a shirt with nobody in it no more. By then his hands had already melted and that balck tar was pouring outta him like a firehose. He started making a sound like a creaky old wooden gate and he walked right up to Barnabas and then, well, they both exploded. I ain't never seen nothing like it. They both went up like two sticks a dynamite.
I wish I could say that were they end of it, but it weren't. That black stuff that was oozin' out a Cecil before he died got all over when he exploded. Luckily, I was hidin behind a booth, but a bunch a others got hit hard with it. Everybody that got hit with that stuff or even touched what was left behind took sick the very next day. They all turned pale and was vomitin'. I din't have no lady friend nor family in the circus, it was just me. It seemed like everybody what had kin to care for or was married got sick too. First time I ken say I felt lucky being all alone.
By the end of that week they was all actin' weird and started gittin' boils and tumors on their faces. Everybody started talkin funny like I ain't ever heard a'fore. It weren't no English and it weren't French neither. I used to know a French gal over in Tupelo. I dint know what and I dint care. I packed up my bindle and got outta thar. Sure I was gonna be a hobo, but I weren't scared of that. I'd been on the road a fore, but I weren't gonna get eat up by the Devil's black tar. I heard later they all got up and wondered off one night. Left all the carriages and animals and the tents. Left all their belongins. Just went.
Ma'am, the Lord was lookin' after me when he told me to pack my bag. It's only by his grace that I never touched any of that tar. Otherwise I'd be out thar right now wandering the night."
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