Dr. Richard Magnum

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Dr. Richard Magnum, P.I

Quote "This is not how I imagined my first time with a monster!"


A descendant of Belmont on his Father's side, and a distant offspring of the Norse Loki on his Mother's, Richard Magnum is a Detective first and a Psychiatrist second. Traumatized by his parents' gruesome murders, he turned his back on Practice in order to open his own Private Investigation Firm so that he could investigate the oddities surrounding the Case. He is completely unaware of the importance of his lineage, at first, but later learns of his relation to the Belmonts as he tracks down a lead to the Case.

Personality wise, he is care-free on the outside, but that's really just a surface-deep thing; in reality, he's haunted by the murders to the point that it drives him to the point of obsession. Although he may not show it, in his free time he is always either training or trying to track down clues in order to solve this unsolved mystery.


Name: Richard Magnum (Born: Leon Richard Bell)

Gender: Male
Age: 26
Date of Birth: December 22

Place of Birth:

Height: 5'7"
Weight: 150 lbs.
Build: Athletic
Eyes: Brown
Hair: Brown
"Bad Ass Moment" Theme: Bonnie Tyler -- Holding Out for a Hero
"Burning Hero" Theme: White Tiger

From the Memoirs of a Vampire Killer


There's always a case that makes you, or a case that breaks you. The case that keeps you up at night; the one that has you wondering about the “what if”s and the “shouldn’t have”s. There’s always a case that changes the direction of your life.

May 24, 2008. I’ll never forget that day. It was a warm spring day, with a sunny blue sky, and a gentle breeze that hinted at the warm summer to come. It was a big day for me; after years of hard work, I was going to finally receive my M.D. That was the day I would cease to be Richard Magnum, Grad Student, and I would finally become Dr. Richard Magnum, MD. That was the day that my life was supposed to continue forward – a new bright chapter with all of future’s promises. May 24, 2008 was the day my world stopped.

My parents, the only family I had left in this wide and lonely world, were supposed to have been there during the ceremony; we had agreed to go out and celebrate afterwards. They never showed. It was only later, after the ceremony had finished, that I learned that both had been found dead in a parking garage in San Francisco; each, a bullet to the brain. The police had ruled it as a double suicide, but I knew better – this had been deliberate.

I had tried many times to persuade the police to look further in to the case, but each time I was told that there was nothing to look in to; that the evidence clearly pointed to a suicide. The case had been closed.

But it wasn’t closed to me.

I could no longer be Dr. Richard Magnum, M.D.; I became Dr. Richard Magnum, P.I.

In this world, everyone has a secret; everyone has something to hide. I had to find the truth. I got my Private Investigator license, and started looking. After two long years of asking questions, following leads, and putting clues together, I found myself face-to-face with my parents’ murderer.

December 23, 2009. Revenge had never been sweeter.

Yet, it wasn’t enough. The dying words of the bastard haunted me; “You have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into – this is much deeper than just me.” I can still remember the arrogant smirk the bastard wore as I pressed the barrel of my 1911 against his heart and pulled the trigger. Seconds later, I understood why he smiled at me so mockingly – as the bullet penetrated his heart, his body burst in to flame.

The events of that night haunted me for weeks.

Nothing in all my medical knowledge could explain spontaneous combustion. Nothing could explain his strange death. What had he meant? “This is much deeper than just me”? I had managed to put the clues together to find my parents’ killer, but I couldn’t figure out the meaning behind his words. Could I have missed something? The only person who could have ever told me was now dead; burned to nothing but ash.

Or so I thought.

A man by the name of “Chuck Savage” entered my small office in the City several weeks after I had exacted my revenge. I didn’t know anything about him at the time, but he sure knew a lot about me. He knew that I had graduated from Stanford. He knew my birthplace, my blood type, the things I liked, the things I did, my vices and virtues. He knew that I had given up a life of luxury for a license as a Private Dick.

He knew that I had spent the past two years tracking down the killer of my parents.

He knew that I had killed their murderer – a fact that I had not mentioned to a soul.

He told me, then, as I stood there sweating bullets, that I could listen to him, and continue my search for the truth – to continue investigating in to the strange words of the burning man.

My balls were in a vise -I had no choice but to accept.

Chuck smiled at me that day – a smile not of malice and contempt, but a warm, inviting smile. He couldn’t promise me that I’d find what I would like to find at the end of my journey.

“All I can promise you,” Chuck told me, “is that what you’ll find will be nothing short of Supernatural.”

There is a plague upon this world, and I have the cure. The Doctor will see you now.

January 25, 2010

Too many things have happened since I last had the opportunity to write.

I have discovered that strange creatures beyond imagination exists; with my own eyes I have witnessed beasts that can change shape and form, as well as ghostly apparitions. Things that should not exist are real.

A man has been murdered in cold-blood, and I may or may not have been partially involved... (I plead the fifth.)

I haven't really had the chance to relax and reflect after everything that's happened so far, but it causes me to wonder whether or not my parents' deaths were really an "accident." I will think more upon this when the opportunity presents itself. For now, though, I'm off to Central America at the strange direction of a letter. While part of me worries that this could be a trap, I haven't made enough enemies in my travels to merit such lengths to bring my demise. Everything should be fine -- I'm probably worrying too much.

I have a long ride ahead of me, so I'll leave things here for now. I'll write more when things become clearer and my conscience becomes cleaner.

Januray 28, 2010

Ah, finally a chance to relax.

After travelling several days, I find myself deep within the heart of a Central American Jungle; it seems the "Summer Home" spoken of in the letter is more of a "Hide out" than a "Home" -- no wonder my parents never mentioned any word of this place in my childhood!

Ah! The letter! Before I get ahead of myself, let me backtrack slightly and explain what happened to send me here in the first place -- it seems as if I had forgotten to elaborate in my last entry.

After the ah... "incident" out of state, I fled back to my home (and by "Home" I mean "office") in San Francisco. When I returned, I was surprised to find upon my desk a Black Envelope with our family Crest engraved on it in wax. This seal struck me as odd; the only stamp was in my possession. Upon further inspection, I discovered that this particular letter seemed fresh. Strange. The contents were brief -- directions to a set of coordinates that apparently was supposed to be a Family Summer Home. Bizarre. I'm still unclear as to how the letter came to my desk, but in the past several months I've witnessed far stranger things -- I'll chalk this one up to fate.

This brings me back to the present. In regards to this place, the term "home" should be applied loosely -- in reality, this location is just a well furnished cave (it's actually quite comfy, in an odd sort of way). The main cave tunnel quickly branches off in to various caverns; a couple have been well furnished, and definitely had someone living in them at one point (I'm actually writing in one such room now!), while the others have only been sparsely outfitted with commodities -- it's almost as if more people were to be expected, at one point in time, but they never came.

There are quite a few things that strike me as odd here, though; for starters, the lumination. This is a massive cave with a network of tunnels that lead to more caves -- one would expect the place to be pitch black! And yet, as I step in to each room, various stone tablets light up to brilliantly illuminate the room. I suspect some sort of algae-based bio-luminescence, but I haven't had the time to follow up on my hypothesis. I'll do so later. On the topic of "caves" -- one would also expect this place to be filthy; filled with bat feces, insects, dirt, and the like! Oddly enough, that's not the case here. The state of each room I've come upon so far is nothing less than pristine. I have yet to find a single layer of dust upon any of the surfaces here... Which brings me to my next point -- judging from everything in here, the last time anyone was in here must have been over 50 years ago (everything here looks like it's from the 50s). That doesn't add up with the lack of dust, though, so something strange is going on...

Wait, what's that? I could have sworn I heard something coming from the other room... I better go and check it out. More details to come later...

Alright, it's official -- either I'm going insane or there is a presence of hallucinogens here, or ghosts are actually real and exist.

It's been several hours since I left my writing to go check out the strange sounds I was hearing, and what I found is rather... well, it's quite difficult to put in to words to properly describe just how surreal the experience is. Assuming I'm not insane (which, I suppose, to any normal person my experiences would probably mark me as being), the noise was coming from a ghost.

Ugh, that's weird to see on paper in my own writing.

Yes, I've met a ghost.

And this isn't just ANY ghost. Oh no! If only it were I'd be able to be content with simply drawing the conclusion that I've been affect by some sort of hallucinogen, but no! This ghost claims to be an ancestor of mine.

Yes, an ancestor. And not just any ancestor -- this spirit claims to be a vampire killer from the 17th century, Simon Belmont.

Pretty nutty, huh? What's even nuttier, though, is that I'm actually entertaining the idea of his story being plausible.

You see, while I don't recall ever hearing outright the mention of the last name "Belmont" being related to my family (honestly, I've never even heard of it before), I DO recall my father mentioning something along the lines of our family changing its name to "Bell" after fleeing Europe during the Great War -- what it was changed from I was never told.

Granted, I know that's not a whole lot of information to base a decision to believe off of -- it could all just be circumstance -- but even more compelling was what was shown to me by the specter. After following a set of instructions dictated to my be him, I found myself in a secret chamber. The chamber itself was rather small -- an entry room of sorts -- but it led to a hallway that met a much larger room. This next room, I suspect, is a training chamber of sorts, as it's filled with various devices and courses to hone martial skills as well as dexterous acrobatic skills. At the end of the training hall was an armoury, and beyond that a long hall with a large oaken door. Interesting to not about this door, not only was it intricately and elaborately carved, but it has the crest of my family inlaid upon it. In the middle of the Crest was a small hole and, after placing my family's signet ring inside of it, the doors swung open to reveal a large master bedroom. At the foot of the bed in the master bedroom stood a large chest, and it is this chest's contents which made me begin to believe that what my ancestor was telling me is, indeed, true.

Inside the chest, I found a well documented family tree leading up to myself (I still need to ask how this was kept current, considering that it's been quite a long time since someone has last been here), some various clothing articles with the family emblem on them, some throwing knives (also, with the family crest), and a whip.

Now, this whip is important, the ghost tells me; it is nothing other than something named the "Vampire Killer." This whip is apparently a legendary weapon passed down the Belmont line that, as the name implies, is used to kill vampires. It, I am told, has magical properties that, when honed, can change the attack properties of the whip -- supposedly, it was able to catch fire and shoot fireballs at one point! However, the Morning Star Symbols, which were used to upgrade and give the whip additional power, have been lost over the centuries, and it's my task to go find them all.

Training in the use of a whip must begin first, however, which will begin tomorrow. As for now, I'm going to rest, since I've had an awfully long day and I am weary from it. More to come later.

January 28, 2010

It's been a few days since Simon Belmont has started my Vampire Killer training, and it's been nothing short of interesting. It's take a while to get used to the way the whip handles, but I've begun to make slow progress; I've finally managed to cause the whip to crack reliably. I've still got a long way to go, from what Simon tells me, but I am determined and motivated.

I'll be honest; at first I was a little reluctant to fully devote myself to the training, as well as the story that he gave to me, but I've been researching the documents that have been around here in the Study and the Master Bedroom and things have begun to add up. I've begun to see names of People and Places that I'm almost certain have been in writings of my father. There were always a number of passages in my father's journal (did I mention before that I took it along with me? I carry it practically everywhere) that never quite made much sense to me. Simon was able to help me decipher some of these, and it's fairly clear to me now that my father was, indeed, a vampire hunter and that he was also convinced that Dracula was going to eventually return. If my suspicions are correct, it was something related to these forces that killed both of my parents.

I now have a personal score to settle.

It's going to take awhile longer yet to get some of the basics down in terms of this whip thing, but there are quite a few other things I need to learn, Simon tells me. He mentions that I need to learn how to throw daggers and craft holy potions, so that's still on the to learn list. God, there's so much to do.

In other news, it seems that opening this chamber up has somehow compromised the magical powers keeping this place lit and powered, so I'm going to have to somehow "modernize" this area. Not sure how I'm going to do that, but it'll be a work in progress. In the meantime, however, I've taken to using a gas generator to run things. A bit of a pain, but it's all I can really do for the moment.

It's really getting annoying to not have modern plumbing...