The chain of the Small
Posted: Fri Sep 23, 2005 3:53 pm
As I explained in my post on the Roll-Call thread, I am not the heroic type. I prefer to mastermind the operation, to provide information, and to hire help when needed. My good friend and colleague Dr. Alastor Purple generally handles the daring-do portion of supernatural regulation.
That said, I have found it occasionally necessary to engage phenomena myself. While I prefer the role of planner, schemer, and mastermind, I am by no means a weakling or coward. I can and will dispatch any threat requiring my attention.
This is the story of one of the rare times when I have found it necessary to assemble a coalition, myself included, to eliminate one of the most vile phenomena I have ever encountered.
August the First, 1993. I had learned of a certain house in West Cornwall, where several children and small animals had vanished. There was little doubt in my mind as to the cause. My dear friend Dr. Purple had sensed something which he described as "A taste like bitter ashes" around the place. Dr. Purple is highly synaesthetic. My research indicated a humanoid creature, commonly referred to as a Boogieman. I dispatched a team consisting of two Heavy Weaponry experts, suitably armed, four local hunters, who had had some experience with back-country monsters, a psychic by the name of Willhein Greene, who had the singular ability to predict the future, two hours in advance, and my colleague Dr. Purple himself.
Only Dr. Purple returned alive.
According to Alastor, "We entered the house near midnight. Immediately, Willhein began to sense something. He began to scream. His eyes began to bleed, and he collapsed on the floor. Within five minutes, he was dead. We were petrified with fear. Willhein was a powerful and experienced psychic, and he had been destroyed instantly. We scanned the entry hall nervously… but to no avail. Whatever killed Willhein was nowhere to be found. We turned to leave, but it seemed that the door had vanished! Behind us was nothing but a blank wall! A hideous screaming began to fill the air. Out of the ceiling, grotesque faces began to appear, stretching toward us on elongated necks. A groaning began to accompany the screaming. There was a blur of motion, and our two weapons experts were lying dead on the floor, in pools of blood. In another minute, the four local hunters were disemboweled, dismembered, and crushed under some hideous, invisible weight. I drew my magnum, and began to fire wildly. The gun was jerked from my hands. I tasted a smell like blood red roses in the air, filled with a rotting, disembodied smell. (Here I interrupt my dear friend’s account, for I fear some explanation is necessary. Dr. Purple is synaesthetic, which means that he blurs the senses, while experiencing them in a heightened aura. Simply put, he can describe what he sees in terms of smell, taste, and sound, and vice versa. He will look at an apparition and smell blood, or ashes. He will hear a voice, and see the color of the person’s aura. It is as much of a hindrance as it is a tool.) I began to beat upon the wall with my bare hands, until, quite by chance, I struck a small nail. I cut my hand, and as my blood touched the wall… I found myself sitting on the grass outside the house. I regained what little composure I could muster, and made haste to contact Lord Elijah Sight.”
I will soon be posting the second half of this remarkable saga.
That said, I have found it occasionally necessary to engage phenomena myself. While I prefer the role of planner, schemer, and mastermind, I am by no means a weakling or coward. I can and will dispatch any threat requiring my attention.
This is the story of one of the rare times when I have found it necessary to assemble a coalition, myself included, to eliminate one of the most vile phenomena I have ever encountered.
August the First, 1993. I had learned of a certain house in West Cornwall, where several children and small animals had vanished. There was little doubt in my mind as to the cause. My dear friend Dr. Purple had sensed something which he described as "A taste like bitter ashes" around the place. Dr. Purple is highly synaesthetic. My research indicated a humanoid creature, commonly referred to as a Boogieman. I dispatched a team consisting of two Heavy Weaponry experts, suitably armed, four local hunters, who had had some experience with back-country monsters, a psychic by the name of Willhein Greene, who had the singular ability to predict the future, two hours in advance, and my colleague Dr. Purple himself.
Only Dr. Purple returned alive.
According to Alastor, "We entered the house near midnight. Immediately, Willhein began to sense something. He began to scream. His eyes began to bleed, and he collapsed on the floor. Within five minutes, he was dead. We were petrified with fear. Willhein was a powerful and experienced psychic, and he had been destroyed instantly. We scanned the entry hall nervously… but to no avail. Whatever killed Willhein was nowhere to be found. We turned to leave, but it seemed that the door had vanished! Behind us was nothing but a blank wall! A hideous screaming began to fill the air. Out of the ceiling, grotesque faces began to appear, stretching toward us on elongated necks. A groaning began to accompany the screaming. There was a blur of motion, and our two weapons experts were lying dead on the floor, in pools of blood. In another minute, the four local hunters were disemboweled, dismembered, and crushed under some hideous, invisible weight. I drew my magnum, and began to fire wildly. The gun was jerked from my hands. I tasted a smell like blood red roses in the air, filled with a rotting, disembodied smell. (Here I interrupt my dear friend’s account, for I fear some explanation is necessary. Dr. Purple is synaesthetic, which means that he blurs the senses, while experiencing them in a heightened aura. Simply put, he can describe what he sees in terms of smell, taste, and sound, and vice versa. He will look at an apparition and smell blood, or ashes. He will hear a voice, and see the color of the person’s aura. It is as much of a hindrance as it is a tool.) I began to beat upon the wall with my bare hands, until, quite by chance, I struck a small nail. I cut my hand, and as my blood touched the wall… I found myself sitting on the grass outside the house. I regained what little composure I could muster, and made haste to contact Lord Elijah Sight.”
I will soon be posting the second half of this remarkable saga.