My Geek friend has been on me for a chance to look over a site together for some time. He’s never really been out in the field before and so when I finally agreed to meet him I picked a place in the Blight where I’d pacified a werewolf lair a few weeks back. It was too soon for anything to have moved in and not too late for the traces of the previous occupants to be gone. It was a great place to show him what things looked like out in the real world.
So Thursday night I left for the Blight a little earlier than usual. I’m sure he was used to late nights playing World of Warcraft, but I didn’t want him getting to tired and missing stuff. I cruised down to our rendezvous and parked the car. It was a couple of blocks from the lair I wanted to show him.
I checked my watch when I arrived, 21h39.
When he was 30 minutes late, I rang his cell phone – his voice-mail immediately picked up.
When he was an hour late I used my PDA to drop him an email
When he was two hours late, I started looking around the neighbourhood for any sign of him
I searched for about another hour, keeping up the barrage of phone calls and emails as I went.
Finally I found what I was looking for.
His car.
I made my way to the vehicle. It was parked about 5 blocks from where we were going to meet. It was all locked up, but that isn’t a problem for me. I pulled my car opener from my belt.
I heard the clack of a handgun being cocked behind me.
“What you doin’ wit’ my car muthafucka?”
It wasn’t Karl . . . Karl knew proper English. I slowly moved my hands out where they could be seen easily and turned around. “It isn’t your car, it belongs to a friend of mine and I’m trying to find him.”
The thug on the other side of the Glock was holding it gangsta style, with the gun tilted to the side and pressed into my face. From the way the barrel was angled I knew he didn’t know what how to use what he was holding.
That is what made me worried.
“Its my car now muthafucka, the cracker who drove up in it took off with one of my ho’s and I’m sure that boy ain’t takin’ 4 hours ta do his thin’.” His grille glinted at me, PIMPIN’ ”Lest ‘course he’s waitin’ for that blue pill ta work. He took one of my ho’s, I’m a takin’ ‘is ride. Now step away from the car before I bust a cap in yo’ ass, muthafucka.”
His posse was watching from the steps behind him. The thug was working up the nerve to shoot me, so his posse would know he was a bad man. I had to impose my will on the situation before that happened.
“Watch your mouth or you’re going to be choking on your grille.” His posse ‘wooo-ooed’ at me, one of them shouted back “Bus’ a cap in ‘im Ice Rock.”
“I’d like ta see ya try muthafucka.” He pushed the gun up against my nose and glared in my eyes.
The gun was in my hands before he even knew I was moving. I spun around and smacked him square in the face with the butt of the gun before he finished his startled yelp. I’d ejected the clip, cleared the chamber and tossed the gun down a sewer grate before he started gagging on his grille, which had been lodged with some busted teeth in the back of his throat.
I gave him a sharp knee in the gut, doubling him over and forcing him to cough up his custom dental work.
“Any of the rest of you want to get in my face?” I looked up at the posse.
They scattered.
“So, Ice Rock,” He was on his hands and knees, blood and busted teeth coming up with each cough. “If this is your car, would you be kind enough to hand me the keys so I can take a look inside. I’d hate to have to mad at you.”
“It’s not mine man . . . do what you want.” He reached for his bloodied grill.
I ground my boot down on his hand. “I like your attitude, but I want more. Tell me everything about the man who got out of this car and where he went.”
“Muthafu . . .” He saw my fist tense. “Okay man . . . be cool, be cool. The guy who got out of the car, white fella, glasses, not seen too much sun, that him?” I nodded. “He and Charline, my best ho’, well he makes nice with her an’ they head off down the alley ‘gether. Then me an’ my boys went away ta burn a little. When we came back, the car was still here an’ your friend an’ Charline ain’t been back since we got back.”
“Now you wouldn’t go and mess with me, now would you Ice Rock. Is there anything you’re leaving out? Anything strange you noticed?” I applied a little more pressure to the hand.
“Nuthin’ man, I told you everythin’” I pressed down a touch more. “Wait . . . wait! I got somethin’. Charline been real strange last couple of days, I was gonna give her the night off but she insisted she work tonight.”
“Strange? How so?”
“She was differen’. Like she didn’t care about nuthin’ no more.”
“I assume that happens to every woman who spends time with you.”
“Naw man, not Charline, not like this. We was gonna get married.”
“You were pimping out your fiancé? I admire your entrepreneurial spirit.”
I lifted my foot of his hand. He pulled it back and clutched it against himself. “Damn man, I think you busted my hand . . . you’re one sick dude.”
“Well your lucky I got more important things to do.” I turned my attention back to the car. My usual finesse with locks gave me access almost immediately. Ice Rock pulled himself up the steps a little ways and watched me, dumbfounded.
After a fruitless search of the passenger compartment I popped the trunk release and went around back.
“Yo, Ice Rock!” He started and tried to melt into the steps. “Come here, I got something I want you to see.” He didn’t move.
I strode over to him as he coward and grabbed him by the back of the neck. I hauled him over to the back of the car.
“Is that Charline?”
Ice Rock nodded and I released my grip. I clicked on my flashlight and took a closer look.
It took me a few minutes before I found it.
At the back of her skull, hidden under her hair was a hole.
It wasn’t a bullet hole or a stabbing wound or anything like that. It looked like it had been bored in with a drill-saw using about an inch and a half bit. The bone was even ground smooth.
I peered in with the flashlight . . . the skull was empty.
I closed the trunk.
“Don’t touch this car unless you want the cops asking you a whole bunch of questions. You got me?”
Nod.
“Get out of here, and get yourself a real life, otherwise we’ll meet again.”
He didn’t bother to acknowledge me, he just ran like a vampire was after him.
I went to the alley he said the hooker had taken Karl. A familiar figure stood at the end of the alleyway.
It was Not Me.
I chased Not Me down the alleyway, but by the time I reached the end he was gone without a trace. I hunted around the area for another few hours then packed up and headed back to the house.
I had to go visit an old friend, the one that had lead me to Karl in the first place.
She could find him again.
My Friend
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Ron Caliburn
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My Friend
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Wed Jan 20, 2010 9:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Bert_the_Turtle
- Posts: 3618
- Joined: Sat Jun 10, 2006 8:50 pm
- Location: In Between the Supernatural and the Innocent
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GhostSpider
- Posts: 2755
- Joined: Fri Sep 16, 2005 2:01 am
- Location: Wherever the fight is
Hi Everyone.
Pa came back and left again afore I got outta bed yesterday mornin'. He took Mr. Fluffers with him wherever he was goin'
Hannah
PS: I wish he'd let me go ta meet his friends.
Pa came back and left again afore I got outta bed yesterday mornin'. He took Mr. Fluffers with him wherever he was goin'
Hannah
PS: I wish he'd let me go ta meet his friends.
Last edited by Hannah on Sat Sep 22, 2007 3:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I will be who I chose to be.
Hopefully everything's alright...
Mr. Caliburn, if you see this before you get out there, give 'em hell! If you see it after...well, we hope you gave 'em hell!
Mr. Caliburn, if you see this before you get out there, give 'em hell! If you see it after...well, we hope you gave 'em hell!
In memory of Jacob Bloodbane; may his legacy live on... Protecting the innocents from evils both mundane and supernatural.
-Legacy Investigation Agency
-Legacy Investigation Agency
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Ron Caliburn
- Posts: 6915
- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
As usual, the drive to the institution was slow.
Whenever I went there time seemed to drag out as I remembered the months I spent there. The violent fits I had while I came down from the cocktail of crap I’d messed myself up with - the constant abuse by the orderlies - the mind numbing babbling of the therapists.
All of it stretched into one ceaseless purgatory.
Not that I didn’t deserve being there. In fact I deserved far worse, fortunately my public defender was able to take advantage of my rants about demons and monsters to get me put there instead of in prison.
But I ain’t going to wish either fate on anybody.
I finally pulled up to the front gate of the institution a little after noon. I buzzed in as a visitor at the wrought iron gate and they let me through.
I never really understood how this place stayed afloat. It was on some of the best land in this part of Maryland and was a gorgeous 5 story Gothic mansion. The property taxes alone must be more than I pull in for a year. Most of the “patients” were long term, hopeless cases that had been forced on the institution by the state. Very few people actually footed the bill for this place.
I parked in the visitor’s lot and pulled Mr. Fluffers’ carrier out of the back seat. As usual he squirmed loose of the safety harness I’d attached to the seat belt and was waiting to jump into the cage as soon as I opened the gate. “One of these days, when it’s time to go to the vet, I’ll tell you we’re visiting Gabrielle and you’ll be stuck.”
He mewed at me. He knew I wouldn’t mess with him like that. He’d been a loyal partner since I left this place and I wasn’t about to cause any problems with that.
I walked in through the visitor’s entrance and paused while they passed the metal detector wands over me. I hated being unarmed, but the last thing we needed was one of the patients pulling a gun or a knife off of someone.
I placed Mr. Fluffers’ carrier on the receptionist’s desk. She looked in and recoiled. “He’s seen better days.”
Mr. Fluffers hissed at her.
“Haven’t we all?” I replied. “I’m here to visit Gabrielle Ross.”
She nodded and checked her computer.
Mr. Fluffers let out another hiss, this one just for my ears.
Something was up and he knew it. You can always trust a cat.
I looked around, everything seemed normal, though there were a couple more orderlies than you’d typically see in the entrance area.
Including Hammer.
Hammer wasn’t his real name that was just what the patients called him after he served a nickel for “disciplining” a patient with a hammer . . . one toe at a time. He was easily the worst of the orderlies, cruel, sadistic, and strong enough to wrestle even the most determined patient into submission.
He and I had a lot of encounters when I was stuck here. He wanted to break me . . . I refused to let him.
The receptionist looked up from her screen. “There’s no patient here by that name.”
“Since when?” I had only visited a few weeks ago.
She looked at the screen again. “We’ve never had a patient by that name here.”
Mr. Fluffers growled and I turned, fist already coming up.
The orderlies were on me in a rush.
I put a couple of them down right off the bat, but it was a dog pile of big bodies on top of me. Fists, elbows, knees and feet – I gave and I received.
I remember Mr. Fluffers’ carrier falling off the desk in the melee, the gate swinging open when it hit the floor and the scared cat bolting down the hall.
You can never trust a cat.
It was about then I felt the prongs of the taser on my neck. 50 000 volts raced through my body for a couple of seconds . . . and then came the nightsticks . . . then the boots . . . finally, the blackness.
Whenever I went there time seemed to drag out as I remembered the months I spent there. The violent fits I had while I came down from the cocktail of crap I’d messed myself up with - the constant abuse by the orderlies - the mind numbing babbling of the therapists.
All of it stretched into one ceaseless purgatory.
Not that I didn’t deserve being there. In fact I deserved far worse, fortunately my public defender was able to take advantage of my rants about demons and monsters to get me put there instead of in prison.
But I ain’t going to wish either fate on anybody.
I finally pulled up to the front gate of the institution a little after noon. I buzzed in as a visitor at the wrought iron gate and they let me through.
I never really understood how this place stayed afloat. It was on some of the best land in this part of Maryland and was a gorgeous 5 story Gothic mansion. The property taxes alone must be more than I pull in for a year. Most of the “patients” were long term, hopeless cases that had been forced on the institution by the state. Very few people actually footed the bill for this place.
I parked in the visitor’s lot and pulled Mr. Fluffers’ carrier out of the back seat. As usual he squirmed loose of the safety harness I’d attached to the seat belt and was waiting to jump into the cage as soon as I opened the gate. “One of these days, when it’s time to go to the vet, I’ll tell you we’re visiting Gabrielle and you’ll be stuck.”
He mewed at me. He knew I wouldn’t mess with him like that. He’d been a loyal partner since I left this place and I wasn’t about to cause any problems with that.
I walked in through the visitor’s entrance and paused while they passed the metal detector wands over me. I hated being unarmed, but the last thing we needed was one of the patients pulling a gun or a knife off of someone.
I placed Mr. Fluffers’ carrier on the receptionist’s desk. She looked in and recoiled. “He’s seen better days.”
Mr. Fluffers hissed at her.
“Haven’t we all?” I replied. “I’m here to visit Gabrielle Ross.”
She nodded and checked her computer.
Mr. Fluffers let out another hiss, this one just for my ears.
Something was up and he knew it. You can always trust a cat.
I looked around, everything seemed normal, though there were a couple more orderlies than you’d typically see in the entrance area.
Including Hammer.
Hammer wasn’t his real name that was just what the patients called him after he served a nickel for “disciplining” a patient with a hammer . . . one toe at a time. He was easily the worst of the orderlies, cruel, sadistic, and strong enough to wrestle even the most determined patient into submission.
He and I had a lot of encounters when I was stuck here. He wanted to break me . . . I refused to let him.
The receptionist looked up from her screen. “There’s no patient here by that name.”
“Since when?” I had only visited a few weeks ago.
She looked at the screen again. “We’ve never had a patient by that name here.”
Mr. Fluffers growled and I turned, fist already coming up.
The orderlies were on me in a rush.
I put a couple of them down right off the bat, but it was a dog pile of big bodies on top of me. Fists, elbows, knees and feet – I gave and I received.
I remember Mr. Fluffers’ carrier falling off the desk in the melee, the gate swinging open when it hit the floor and the scared cat bolting down the hall.
You can never trust a cat.
It was about then I felt the prongs of the taser on my neck. 50 000 volts raced through my body for a couple of seconds . . . and then came the nightsticks . . . then the boots . . . finally, the blackness.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Wed Jan 20, 2010 9:40 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Ron Caliburn
- Posts: 6915
- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
Ron Caliburn wrote:I got, I gave, I'll be back out there for more tonight.
>_<;;
Man, if you tell me Gabrielle's still in that place, I'll be right there with you to get her out, "retirement" be damned. You haven't told me half the horrors that're in there, but it sounds to me like noone deserves that kind of shit.
If you need help--if you haven't already torn the place down brick by brick by the time you're done with it--just ask.
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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Prof. Rosecrest
- Posts: 114
- Joined: Fri Jun 01, 2007 2:53 pm
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Ron Caliburn
- Posts: 6915
- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
I came to stiff and aching. With a groan I opened my eyes.
Blackness.
I blinked my eyes a few times . . . and tried to focus. Slowly, small details began to emerge from the darkness . . . I was in one of the padded cells at the institution.
I let my mind come aware of my body one piece at a time. My arms were crossed in front of me and refused to move. My aching jaw was forced open.
I remembered waking up like this a few time when I lived here . . . straight jacket and a ball gag.
I slowly forced myself up into a sitting position . . . I’d been in this sort of kit often enough not to be totally helpless . . . but if Hammer came in looking to make up for lost time I was in for a world of hurt.
The trick to getting out of a straight jacket is to try to make yourself as big as possible when they put you in it. That way, you have some slack to work with when you want to get out.
Too bad I was unconscious when they strapped me in, didn’t give me much to work with.
Still, I started to work at it.
I took stock of my situation as I pushed and pulled at the straps and came to the following conclusions.
First, whoever had taken out Karl had also gone after Gabrielle. Given that I saw Not Me at the alleyway and he knew how important they were to my operations, he was likely in charge of the whole thing.
Second, the institution was obviously under their control and possibly had been for some time seeing as there were no new faces involved in taking me down.
Third, I had no idea how long I had been there or what they had planned for me, other than they wanted me alive . . . at least temporarily.
Fourth, despite my best efforts, I wasn’t getting out of this straight jacket on my own.
That was when I heard the slow boot steps coming down the hall.
I pushed myself against the wall and tried to get my feet under me. I wasn’t going to go out on my backside if I could avoid it
The latch on the door clacked and light flooded in from the hallway. My eyes, adjusted to the dark, couldn’t handle it so I was unable to see my assailant rush in and take my legs out from under me. A few quick kicks followed up to make sure I stayed down.
“Nice ta have ya back Angry Artie.” The sneer in the voice could only have come from Hammer.
The gag prevented any suitable reply.
“Brought ya a friend.” A second shadow moved into the doorway.
“Hello Ron, were you looking for me?”
Karl’s voice. . . but not Karl’s voice.
“I’m going ta leave you boys alone to play together. I’m going to be just outside this door if anybody needs me.” Hammer stepped outside and the padded door thumped closed.
Not Karl flicked on an electric lantern. “The Master wants you to see what’s coming.” He placed the lantern on the floor.
“The Master is very disappointed in you Ron. When you escaped this place she was very upset. She had wanted you to stay for her big event. She had wanted you to be here until now.
“The Master was very happy when the Devil with Wings arrived. The Devil with Wings knew you. You and the Manbear had ruined its plans, much like your leaving had ruined the Master’s plans. The Devil with Wings has a friend looking after the Manbear in the Winter Empire, but the Devil with Wings had other plans for you.
“When the Devil with Wings told The Master he could deliver you to her on the day she had appointed, The Master was only too happy to work with the Devil with Wings.
“The You Who Is Not and the Devil with Wings would bring you to The Master. Each asked only for one thing in return.
“The Devil with Wings wanted you to die in slow agony, which is why The Master has sent me here.
“I do not understand the request of the You Who Is Not, but I shall fulfil it before I kill you as The Master commands.
“The You Who Is Not only asked that I give you this message, and I quote. ‘With you gone, he shall reclaim his daughter.’”
I lost it, right then and there. There was no way I was going to let him anywhere near Hannah.
I struggled and tore at the straight jacket like a man possessed, threads began to pop, seams began to tear, but still I was not free.
“It appears that the You Who Is Not has inflicted a greater wound than The Master supposed. She will be quite happy. You may cease your fruitless struggles. The bindings are quite secure and you will not escape.”
Karl advanced on me.
I kicked at him as best I could, but whatever had changed about him made him stronger and tougher, he shrugged off my kicks like they were meaningless and pushed my legs aside.
He leaned in close over me, so I delivered a head-butt which shattered his glasses and drove one of the pieces back into his eye.
He didn’t blink as blood and eye juice dripped out onto my face.
“The You Who Is Not told The Master you would go out fighting. The Master made sure it would be pointless.”
Karl then toppled forward onto me, stone dead.
As much as I hoped for it, I knew that wasn’t the end of this.
The light of the lantern threw all sorts of weird shadows around the room, but finally in them I saw what was there to kill me.
There was something crawling out of the back of Karl’s head.
Blackness.
I blinked my eyes a few times . . . and tried to focus. Slowly, small details began to emerge from the darkness . . . I was in one of the padded cells at the institution.
I let my mind come aware of my body one piece at a time. My arms were crossed in front of me and refused to move. My aching jaw was forced open.
I remembered waking up like this a few time when I lived here . . . straight jacket and a ball gag.
I slowly forced myself up into a sitting position . . . I’d been in this sort of kit often enough not to be totally helpless . . . but if Hammer came in looking to make up for lost time I was in for a world of hurt.
The trick to getting out of a straight jacket is to try to make yourself as big as possible when they put you in it. That way, you have some slack to work with when you want to get out.
Too bad I was unconscious when they strapped me in, didn’t give me much to work with.
Still, I started to work at it.
I took stock of my situation as I pushed and pulled at the straps and came to the following conclusions.
First, whoever had taken out Karl had also gone after Gabrielle. Given that I saw Not Me at the alleyway and he knew how important they were to my operations, he was likely in charge of the whole thing.
Second, the institution was obviously under their control and possibly had been for some time seeing as there were no new faces involved in taking me down.
Third, I had no idea how long I had been there or what they had planned for me, other than they wanted me alive . . . at least temporarily.
Fourth, despite my best efforts, I wasn’t getting out of this straight jacket on my own.
That was when I heard the slow boot steps coming down the hall.
I pushed myself against the wall and tried to get my feet under me. I wasn’t going to go out on my backside if I could avoid it
The latch on the door clacked and light flooded in from the hallway. My eyes, adjusted to the dark, couldn’t handle it so I was unable to see my assailant rush in and take my legs out from under me. A few quick kicks followed up to make sure I stayed down.
“Nice ta have ya back Angry Artie.” The sneer in the voice could only have come from Hammer.
The gag prevented any suitable reply.
“Brought ya a friend.” A second shadow moved into the doorway.
“Hello Ron, were you looking for me?”
Karl’s voice. . . but not Karl’s voice.
“I’m going ta leave you boys alone to play together. I’m going to be just outside this door if anybody needs me.” Hammer stepped outside and the padded door thumped closed.
Not Karl flicked on an electric lantern. “The Master wants you to see what’s coming.” He placed the lantern on the floor.
“The Master is very disappointed in you Ron. When you escaped this place she was very upset. She had wanted you to stay for her big event. She had wanted you to be here until now.
“The Master was very happy when the Devil with Wings arrived. The Devil with Wings knew you. You and the Manbear had ruined its plans, much like your leaving had ruined the Master’s plans. The Devil with Wings has a friend looking after the Manbear in the Winter Empire, but the Devil with Wings had other plans for you.
“When the Devil with Wings told The Master he could deliver you to her on the day she had appointed, The Master was only too happy to work with the Devil with Wings.
“The You Who Is Not and the Devil with Wings would bring you to The Master. Each asked only for one thing in return.
“The Devil with Wings wanted you to die in slow agony, which is why The Master has sent me here.
“I do not understand the request of the You Who Is Not, but I shall fulfil it before I kill you as The Master commands.
“The You Who Is Not only asked that I give you this message, and I quote. ‘With you gone, he shall reclaim his daughter.’”
I lost it, right then and there. There was no way I was going to let him anywhere near Hannah.
I struggled and tore at the straight jacket like a man possessed, threads began to pop, seams began to tear, but still I was not free.
“It appears that the You Who Is Not has inflicted a greater wound than The Master supposed. She will be quite happy. You may cease your fruitless struggles. The bindings are quite secure and you will not escape.”
Karl advanced on me.
I kicked at him as best I could, but whatever had changed about him made him stronger and tougher, he shrugged off my kicks like they were meaningless and pushed my legs aside.
He leaned in close over me, so I delivered a head-butt which shattered his glasses and drove one of the pieces back into his eye.
He didn’t blink as blood and eye juice dripped out onto my face.
“The You Who Is Not told The Master you would go out fighting. The Master made sure it would be pointless.”
Karl then toppled forward onto me, stone dead.
As much as I hoped for it, I knew that wasn’t the end of this.
The light of the lantern threw all sorts of weird shadows around the room, but finally in them I saw what was there to kill me.
There was something crawling out of the back of Karl’s head.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Wed Jan 20, 2010 9:45 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Willie Long
- Posts: 495
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- Location: East Chicago
- Contact:
Ron ... you okay? Hannah, er, is your father acting like himself?
Last edited by Willie Long on Sun Sep 23, 2007 12:17 pm, edited 1 time in total.
Well, he's posting, so he's gotta be okay... Hannah said he wasn't alone when he came home. He left with Mr. Fluffers, and he went to see Gabrielle...
I know what I'm hoping for.
I know what I'm hoping a lot for.
What bugs the hell outta me is this "Devil with Wings"... That sounds disgustingly like Gabriel. >_<
And it's pointless to ask him, so...hopefully Ron finishes the story and either confirms or denies *that* particular concern...
I know what I'm hoping for.
I know what I'm hoping a lot for.
What bugs the hell outta me is this "Devil with Wings"... That sounds disgustingly like Gabriel. >_<
And it's pointless to ask him, so...hopefully Ron finishes the story and either confirms or denies *that* particular concern...
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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concrete_Angel
- Posts: 1296
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- Location: My only true home is in my mind
- Contact:
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Willie Long
- Posts: 495
- Joined: Tue May 17, 2005 11:08 am
- Location: East Chicago
- Contact:
KonThaak wrote:What bugs the hell outta me is this "Devil with Wings"... That sounds disgustingly like Gabriel. >_<
It's not. Remember that cult Kolya and Ron busted up a few years back? Lemme find the link.
Edit: A Weekend at Roger's. The "devil with wings" is pissed off at the Manbear -- Kolya never screwed up one of Gabriel's plans, did he?
Last edited by Willie Long on Sun Sep 23, 2007 12:26 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Ron Caliburn
- Posts: 6915
- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
It popped out of the back of Karl’s skull with a wet squelch and fell to the padded floor beside me.
It was slick and slimy with blood and cerebral fluids. It looked sorta like a worm with a full head of human hair, about half a foot long. It pushed itself up with the hair, obviously some kind of tentacle, and swivelled itself to look at me. It bared a mouth full of tinny razor sharp teeth and I knew how the hole had gotten in that hooker’s head.
And in a couple of minutes, I was next.
It started pulling itself towards me with its tentacles. Slithering up onto my chest and towards my neck. I felt the hair like tentacles brushing across my mouth, my nose, my ear . . . it was moving into position at the base of my skull.
I shook my head as hard as I could, but it hung on tight.
I tried to hit my head against the floor to crush it . . . but the padding on the floor prevented me from doing harm.
I felt its teeth grazing my scalp – hunting for the right spot.
That’s when a furious ball of fur dropped from the ceiling vent.
A few hisses and growls and some fang work later it was done. The hair thing had melted into a puddle of steaming black goo and Mr. Fluffers was cleaning the gunk off his paws.
I don’t know how he managed to track me down, but he certainly pulled through for me here. You can always trust a cat.
I pushed Karl’s corpse off of me.
I braced myself against the wall and lifted myself to my feet.
I figured, they wouldn’t lock me in here with the thing if they didn’t expect the thing to get out, so I went to the door and kicked it as hard as I could three times.
Nothing.
I kicked three more times.
The latch clicked.
The door swung open.
Hammer looked down at me. I was covered in Karl’s blood and brain fluids.
I stared blankly back at him.
“I figured it’d have taken ya longer and there’d be more noise. Guess big bad Artie really was a pussy after all.” He reached around and undid my gag.
“The Master shall be pleased.” I replied mechanically, resisting the urge to work my aching jaw or to swallow.
Hammer stepped behind me and started undoing the straight jacket straps. “Yeah, Dr. Webb’s going to throw a party for this one.”
He paused.
“Hey, isn’t there supposed ta be a hole back here?” That was Hammer, plenty big, plenty mean, not always too bright.
My free arm connected with his nose and I lunged for the hallway, Mr. Fluffers bolting out between my legs.
I swung the door on the cell shut to seal Hammer in, but he was too quick for that, I instead ended up slamming the padded door against his shoulder.
I wasn’t about to try to match power with him in a shoving match, so I fell back and freed my other arm from the straight jacket.
My joints and muscles protested the movement. Pins and needles numbed my arms and made them feel heavy. I forced my aching hands into fists.
Hammer smiled at me and pulled his nightstick from his belt. “I was hoping I’d get ta thrash you one last time Artie.”
I spat at his feet, forcing the moisture back into my mouth. “You weren’t the only one waiting for this.”
Hammer lead with the nightstick at the head, his favourite way of getting the attention of an unruly patient. I dropped under his swing and buried my shoulder into his gut.
He brought the nightstick back with his elbow, trying to come down on my back. I spun to the side and gave a kick to the back of his knee.
The big man staggered, but didn’t go down.
“You can fight Artie, but running would be smarter.” He again led with the nightstick, but I caught and twisted it, forcing it from his grasp.
“No, I like the fighting.” I gripped the handle of the nightstick and laid the length of it along my forearm.
I stepped into him and punched with the nightstick, connecting with Hammer’s rather oversized stomach.
He grunted a bit and staggered back. I kept up the pressure with a blow aimed at his head that he barely deflected. He threw his body weight back at me, knocking me back.
Then he took off down the hallway and ducked around the corner.
I went after him, coming low, wide and fast around the corner.
I stopped myself short just in time to avoid the fire axe swung at me.
Hammer chuckled. “My weapon’s bigger.”
I smiled back. “That’s not what your girlfriend told me.”
Hammer snarled and swung. I used the nightstick to slide the axe head to the side, missing me and sinking deep into the wall.
A shower of sparks erupted from the wall and the lights flickered. Hammer tensed up for a few seconds, then, as the lights went out, he released the axe handle and toppled over.
As the emergency lights came up I peered into the hole in the wall . . . he’d hit an electrical junction box.
It was a fluke, but I wasn’t going to complain.
The voices coming down the corridor told me I’d soon be out numbered. As much as I wanted to stay and get Gabrielle, my odds of succeeding were pretty much zip.
I grabbed a chair and smashed out the nearest window. With Mr. Fluffers under my arm I climbed out into the morning twilight and jumped to the ground. I made my way to my car, neutralized the guy they had guarding it and burned out of there before they could seal the gate.
I headed for home, but I knew I’d be back the next night.
This time, Gabrielle was going to be leaving with me.
It was slick and slimy with blood and cerebral fluids. It looked sorta like a worm with a full head of human hair, about half a foot long. It pushed itself up with the hair, obviously some kind of tentacle, and swivelled itself to look at me. It bared a mouth full of tinny razor sharp teeth and I knew how the hole had gotten in that hooker’s head.
And in a couple of minutes, I was next.
It started pulling itself towards me with its tentacles. Slithering up onto my chest and towards my neck. I felt the hair like tentacles brushing across my mouth, my nose, my ear . . . it was moving into position at the base of my skull.
I shook my head as hard as I could, but it hung on tight.
I tried to hit my head against the floor to crush it . . . but the padding on the floor prevented me from doing harm.
I felt its teeth grazing my scalp – hunting for the right spot.
That’s when a furious ball of fur dropped from the ceiling vent.
A few hisses and growls and some fang work later it was done. The hair thing had melted into a puddle of steaming black goo and Mr. Fluffers was cleaning the gunk off his paws.
I don’t know how he managed to track me down, but he certainly pulled through for me here. You can always trust a cat.
I pushed Karl’s corpse off of me.
I braced myself against the wall and lifted myself to my feet.
I figured, they wouldn’t lock me in here with the thing if they didn’t expect the thing to get out, so I went to the door and kicked it as hard as I could three times.
Nothing.
I kicked three more times.
The latch clicked.
The door swung open.
Hammer looked down at me. I was covered in Karl’s blood and brain fluids.
I stared blankly back at him.
“I figured it’d have taken ya longer and there’d be more noise. Guess big bad Artie really was a pussy after all.” He reached around and undid my gag.
“The Master shall be pleased.” I replied mechanically, resisting the urge to work my aching jaw or to swallow.
Hammer stepped behind me and started undoing the straight jacket straps. “Yeah, Dr. Webb’s going to throw a party for this one.”
He paused.
“Hey, isn’t there supposed ta be a hole back here?” That was Hammer, plenty big, plenty mean, not always too bright.
My free arm connected with his nose and I lunged for the hallway, Mr. Fluffers bolting out between my legs.
I swung the door on the cell shut to seal Hammer in, but he was too quick for that, I instead ended up slamming the padded door against his shoulder.
I wasn’t about to try to match power with him in a shoving match, so I fell back and freed my other arm from the straight jacket.
My joints and muscles protested the movement. Pins and needles numbed my arms and made them feel heavy. I forced my aching hands into fists.
Hammer smiled at me and pulled his nightstick from his belt. “I was hoping I’d get ta thrash you one last time Artie.”
I spat at his feet, forcing the moisture back into my mouth. “You weren’t the only one waiting for this.”
Hammer lead with the nightstick at the head, his favourite way of getting the attention of an unruly patient. I dropped under his swing and buried my shoulder into his gut.
He brought the nightstick back with his elbow, trying to come down on my back. I spun to the side and gave a kick to the back of his knee.
The big man staggered, but didn’t go down.
“You can fight Artie, but running would be smarter.” He again led with the nightstick, but I caught and twisted it, forcing it from his grasp.
“No, I like the fighting.” I gripped the handle of the nightstick and laid the length of it along my forearm.
I stepped into him and punched with the nightstick, connecting with Hammer’s rather oversized stomach.
He grunted a bit and staggered back. I kept up the pressure with a blow aimed at his head that he barely deflected. He threw his body weight back at me, knocking me back.
Then he took off down the hallway and ducked around the corner.
I went after him, coming low, wide and fast around the corner.
I stopped myself short just in time to avoid the fire axe swung at me.
Hammer chuckled. “My weapon’s bigger.”
I smiled back. “That’s not what your girlfriend told me.”
Hammer snarled and swung. I used the nightstick to slide the axe head to the side, missing me and sinking deep into the wall.
A shower of sparks erupted from the wall and the lights flickered. Hammer tensed up for a few seconds, then, as the lights went out, he released the axe handle and toppled over.
As the emergency lights came up I peered into the hole in the wall . . . he’d hit an electrical junction box.
It was a fluke, but I wasn’t going to complain.
The voices coming down the corridor told me I’d soon be out numbered. As much as I wanted to stay and get Gabrielle, my odds of succeeding were pretty much zip.
I grabbed a chair and smashed out the nearest window. With Mr. Fluffers under my arm I climbed out into the morning twilight and jumped to the ground. I made my way to my car, neutralized the guy they had guarding it and burned out of there before they could seal the gate.
I headed for home, but I knew I’d be back the next night.
This time, Gabrielle was going to be leaving with me.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Wed Jan 20, 2010 9:49 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Ron Caliburn
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Willie Long wrote:KonThaak wrote:What bugs the hell outta me is this "Devil with Wings"... That sounds disgustingly like Gabriel. >_<
It's not. Remember that cult Kolya and Ron busted up a few years back? Lemme find the link.
Edit: A Weekend at Roger's. The "devil with wings" is pissed off at the Manbear -- Kolya never screwed up one of Gabriel's plans, did he?
Yeah, I was trying to puzzle that one out too but I found out the answer last night - but what worries me is that the "devil with wings" apparently has some sort of ally in the "Winter Empire" going after the "Manbear."
Kolya hasn't been heard from in a while.
Yeah, I've been worried about our Russian friends, too... I was hoping they'd be here by the end of October...
This...thing that Mr. Fluffers killed... I think I know what it is. It falls into a class of creatures that controls and ultimately kills their victims. (Yeah, I know, little late to point that out now...) They're generally called Brain Burrowers. I don't think they're terribly common (thankfully), but they are one of the worse nasties out there. I'm sorry about Karl, but...I'm glad you're alright.
This...thing that Mr. Fluffers killed... I think I know what it is. It falls into a class of creatures that controls and ultimately kills their victims. (Yeah, I know, little late to point that out now...) They're generally called Brain Burrowers. I don't think they're terribly common (thankfully), but they are one of the worse nasties out there. I'm sorry about Karl, but...I'm glad you're alright.
I am not A bitch...I am THE bitch. And to you, I'm MS Bitch.
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Ron Caliburn
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Just rember Brain Burrowers are summoned creatures. You need to be careful Ron, what or who ever is behind this is able to summon creatures, or has some one working for them that can. Brain burrows are dangerous to a helpless or sleeping victim, I am more concerned if they start summoning worse. Again advice you have given me and has saved me before is being returned; get some back up and be readyu for any thing.
Michael T.
Michael T.
Beware the monster within, least it escape and take over your life.
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Ron Caliburn
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- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
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Ron Caliburn
- Posts: 6915
- Joined: Mon Jan 24, 2005 7:09 pm
- Location: Best if you don't know.
I got home, washed up, changed, grabbed a few energy bars and headed to the office.
Once there I started packing up for the night I had planned.
Weapons and Armour were first on the list. I really didn’t know what was at the heart of all this so I had to pack as varied a load as possible. Likewise, with a large number of potentially hostile humans to deal with, I’d need to make sure I had lots of ammo. The presence of possibly dozens of hostages (the patients) meant I had to make sure I didn’t pack anything that might blast through a wall and kill someone who wasn’t involved in the fight.
Next I had to figure out my means of entry. I’d lived in the place a few months so I knew most of the floor plan, surveillance systems, and etcetera. I put together a bag of tools that would get me into the place . . . and hopefully leave me a way back out.
I debated making some calls to get some of you as back up – but Gabrielle, if she was alive, was probably not going to be much longer, so waiting for a posse to form might have made the whole effort pointless. Planning for success I left a message with Rose to be at my place the following morning.
That’s when I noticed the date. The Equinox was going to arrive around 5 AM.
I remembered all the research I’d gotten Karl to do on the place over the years. There were always hints at something, but the coincidences were just getting too much.
The place had been built way back in the day as a sanitarium. Over the years it had held the insane and those dying of tuberculosis. It had managed to stay in business despite a lack of incoming funds and large bills.
Which means it was there to do something other than make money.
The creature, the talk of the big event which would happen in conjunction with the equinox . . .
The only way it made sense is if that place had been built to house a magic ritual. The constant inflow of helpless patients who nobody would expect to survive served as a fuel source.
But for what? What was so big about this Equinox? I had been held there years ago, so it was obviously a long range plan.
I wished I had more time to pull enough people together as I loaded my car.
Mr. Fluffers hopped into the passenger seat.
Devils with Wings, The Master, and the Manbear – somehow it all had to come together . . . and how was Not Me involved?
I headed back to the institution to get the answers . . . and to get the one that had shown me the way.
Once there I started packing up for the night I had planned.
Weapons and Armour were first on the list. I really didn’t know what was at the heart of all this so I had to pack as varied a load as possible. Likewise, with a large number of potentially hostile humans to deal with, I’d need to make sure I had lots of ammo. The presence of possibly dozens of hostages (the patients) meant I had to make sure I didn’t pack anything that might blast through a wall and kill someone who wasn’t involved in the fight.
Next I had to figure out my means of entry. I’d lived in the place a few months so I knew most of the floor plan, surveillance systems, and etcetera. I put together a bag of tools that would get me into the place . . . and hopefully leave me a way back out.
I debated making some calls to get some of you as back up – but Gabrielle, if she was alive, was probably not going to be much longer, so waiting for a posse to form might have made the whole effort pointless. Planning for success I left a message with Rose to be at my place the following morning.
That’s when I noticed the date. The Equinox was going to arrive around 5 AM.
I remembered all the research I’d gotten Karl to do on the place over the years. There were always hints at something, but the coincidences were just getting too much.
The place had been built way back in the day as a sanitarium. Over the years it had held the insane and those dying of tuberculosis. It had managed to stay in business despite a lack of incoming funds and large bills.
Which means it was there to do something other than make money.
The creature, the talk of the big event which would happen in conjunction with the equinox . . .
The only way it made sense is if that place had been built to house a magic ritual. The constant inflow of helpless patients who nobody would expect to survive served as a fuel source.
But for what? What was so big about this Equinox? I had been held there years ago, so it was obviously a long range plan.
I wished I had more time to pull enough people together as I loaded my car.
Mr. Fluffers hopped into the passenger seat.
Devils with Wings, The Master, and the Manbear – somehow it all had to come together . . . and how was Not Me involved?
I headed back to the institution to get the answers . . . and to get the one that had shown me the way.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Wed Jan 20, 2010 9:51 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Ron Caliburn
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- Location: Best if you don't know.
Between the preparations and the drive it was almost sunset when I got to the target site. I used what little light I had left to camouflage my car and observe the building.
Fortunately the institution is well away from any nearby houses or communities . . . short of a powerful explosion, anything that happened there would go unnoticed by the outside world until it was all over.
Probably the way whoever had built this place had planned it.
I watched for a while. The visitor’s parking was empty. Apparently last night’s electrical problem had led to them cancelling visiting hours. The staff lot was pretty lightly loaded – apparently they were on a skeleton crew.
Once full dark was upon us I moved to the point I’d selected to breach the wall around the institution. Erosion had cut the ground away from around the base of the wall. A little bit of scraping with the entrenching tool and a few sharp smacks with a pick and I had an opening suitable for sliding through.
I pulled myself and my bags through the opening then camouflaged it as best I could – the grounds didn’t seem to be patrolled but I didn’t want to risk having to force my way out.
I worked my way along the interior of the wall to where the utility lines crossed over. Following the lines I made my way inwards until I found the transformer shack.
I was fortunate in that all the lines into the place ran into this building before getting to the main building. It meant that I could cut off power and communications here. I placed the charges I’d put together in key spots in the shack, guaranteeing that what I wanted would be cut.
Yeah, I know I’m not known for using explosives . . . but it’s not like Bert is the only one who can.
Mr. Fluffers and I then made our way towards the institution.
All of the ground level windows had bars on them – but I hadn’t planned on going through them – at least not on the way in anyway. I placed another set of charges at one of the windows then moved around to one of the side doors.
Getting through the lock wasn’t hard. I’ve always been good with locks.
Before I opened the door I reached into my pocket and flicked a switch on the detonator. The thermite charges in the shack burned through the wires quickly and quietly and the entire building was plunged into darkness.
I swung open the door and rushed through, Mr. Fluffers scampering ahead.
The door clicked closed behind me and I ducked around the corner before the generator kicked in and the place lit up again.
The alarm on the door remained silent.
I was in undetected.
Quickly I found a utility closet and moved inside. I transferred what I’d need from my pack to my harness and hid my pack among the shelves.
I opened the door a crack for Mr. Fluffers . . . he stuck his nose out and sniffed around a bit before stepping back out into the hallway – the coast was clear.
I’m sorry if I sound like I’m bragging, but I’m pretty sure you were more likely to hear Mr. Fluffers padding along than me as we worked our way down the hall and up the stairs. Nobody knew I was there and I intended to keep it that way.
It took me about half an hour to work my way along to where Gabrielle’s room was. I was taking my time to make sure there was nobody along the way. Mr. Fluffers lead the way to be certain I wasn’t spotted.
I’d also made a little detour by the generator room along the way.
When I got to Gabrielle’s room I started to work my trick on the lock when I noticed something amiss.
The door wasn’t locked.
Weapon at the ready I opened the door and looked down at Mr. Fluffers. He looked unconcerned as he entered the room.
I opened the door the rest of the way and slid into the room and flicked on the lights.
There had been a struggle, that’s for sure. The bed was overturned and the nightstand was knocked over. That was a very bad sign . . . Gabrielle never struggled for the orderlies . . . even that time that they . . . well I’m just glad I broke up that situation before she figured out what was happening
Resistance was not in her vocabulary . . . so whatever had caused her to fight must have been something truly major.
Fortunately, there was no sign of blood . . . so she hadn’t been injured in the fight here.
I looked down at Mr. Fluffers who was disconcertedly sniffing at the wreckage in the room. “Can you find her?”
Yes I know there’s no way he should understand me . . . but he’s a smart cat and what’s more he was Gabrielle’s for long before she gave him to me.
He looked up at me and gave a confident meow before heading out the door.
I was going to assume that was a yes.
You can always trust a cat.
As we made our way through the place I started looking into the rooms we went by. It soon became apparent that pretty much every patient in the place had been drug out of their rooms. Some went without a struggle, some had fought, some had bled, and all had gone.
The feeling was growing in the pit of my stomach . . . this was going to be a very bad night.
Fortunately the institution is well away from any nearby houses or communities . . . short of a powerful explosion, anything that happened there would go unnoticed by the outside world until it was all over.
Probably the way whoever had built this place had planned it.
I watched for a while. The visitor’s parking was empty. Apparently last night’s electrical problem had led to them cancelling visiting hours. The staff lot was pretty lightly loaded – apparently they were on a skeleton crew.
Once full dark was upon us I moved to the point I’d selected to breach the wall around the institution. Erosion had cut the ground away from around the base of the wall. A little bit of scraping with the entrenching tool and a few sharp smacks with a pick and I had an opening suitable for sliding through.
I pulled myself and my bags through the opening then camouflaged it as best I could – the grounds didn’t seem to be patrolled but I didn’t want to risk having to force my way out.
I worked my way along the interior of the wall to where the utility lines crossed over. Following the lines I made my way inwards until I found the transformer shack.
I was fortunate in that all the lines into the place ran into this building before getting to the main building. It meant that I could cut off power and communications here. I placed the charges I’d put together in key spots in the shack, guaranteeing that what I wanted would be cut.
Yeah, I know I’m not known for using explosives . . . but it’s not like Bert is the only one who can.
Mr. Fluffers and I then made our way towards the institution.
All of the ground level windows had bars on them – but I hadn’t planned on going through them – at least not on the way in anyway. I placed another set of charges at one of the windows then moved around to one of the side doors.
Getting through the lock wasn’t hard. I’ve always been good with locks.
Before I opened the door I reached into my pocket and flicked a switch on the detonator. The thermite charges in the shack burned through the wires quickly and quietly and the entire building was plunged into darkness.
I swung open the door and rushed through, Mr. Fluffers scampering ahead.
The door clicked closed behind me and I ducked around the corner before the generator kicked in and the place lit up again.
The alarm on the door remained silent.
I was in undetected.
Quickly I found a utility closet and moved inside. I transferred what I’d need from my pack to my harness and hid my pack among the shelves.
I opened the door a crack for Mr. Fluffers . . . he stuck his nose out and sniffed around a bit before stepping back out into the hallway – the coast was clear.
I’m sorry if I sound like I’m bragging, but I’m pretty sure you were more likely to hear Mr. Fluffers padding along than me as we worked our way down the hall and up the stairs. Nobody knew I was there and I intended to keep it that way.
It took me about half an hour to work my way along to where Gabrielle’s room was. I was taking my time to make sure there was nobody along the way. Mr. Fluffers lead the way to be certain I wasn’t spotted.
I’d also made a little detour by the generator room along the way.
When I got to Gabrielle’s room I started to work my trick on the lock when I noticed something amiss.
The door wasn’t locked.
Weapon at the ready I opened the door and looked down at Mr. Fluffers. He looked unconcerned as he entered the room.
I opened the door the rest of the way and slid into the room and flicked on the lights.
There had been a struggle, that’s for sure. The bed was overturned and the nightstand was knocked over. That was a very bad sign . . . Gabrielle never struggled for the orderlies . . . even that time that they . . . well I’m just glad I broke up that situation before she figured out what was happening
Resistance was not in her vocabulary . . . so whatever had caused her to fight must have been something truly major.
Fortunately, there was no sign of blood . . . so she hadn’t been injured in the fight here.
I looked down at Mr. Fluffers who was disconcertedly sniffing at the wreckage in the room. “Can you find her?”
Yes I know there’s no way he should understand me . . . but he’s a smart cat and what’s more he was Gabrielle’s for long before she gave him to me.
He looked up at me and gave a confident meow before heading out the door.
I was going to assume that was a yes.
You can always trust a cat.
As we made our way through the place I started looking into the rooms we went by. It soon became apparent that pretty much every patient in the place had been drug out of their rooms. Some went without a struggle, some had fought, some had bled, and all had gone.
The feeling was growing in the pit of my stomach . . . this was going to be a very bad night.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Wed Jan 20, 2010 9:54 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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A. Pendragon
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Ron Caliburn
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I can't possibly imagine why, but One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest comes to mind here. So much for health-care reformations.
I hope things worked out for the best.
KT's right. You people have a penchant for the dramatic.
I hope things worked out for the best.
KT's right. You people have a penchant for the dramatic.
Put everything into what you're doing, use everything you've got, or I'm afraid you won't live to regret it.
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Ron Caliburn
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After the agonizingly slow, silent creep through the halls I found myself on the fifth floor in front of the office of the institution’s administrator.
I looked at the name on the door plaque: S. Webb.
I looked down to Mr. Fluffers, he scratched at the door.
“X marks the spot huh? . . . you ever meet this guy.”
The cat looked up at me, I could swear he was telling me “No.”
“Me either . . . can’t think I’ve ever spoken to anyone who has . . . The Master?”
Mr. Fluffers gave me what could be interpreted as shrug and pushed against the door again.
“Yeah I know, quit wasting time.”
As usual the lock yielded itself to me easily and quietly.
The office looked pretty much as you’d expect it to look. Big desk, towering book shelves, knick-knacks gathered from a life of scholarly adventure . . . and lots of dust.
The office wasn’t used . . . it was a fake.
I cautiously entered, looking around the room for any sign of where to turn next.
I found it in the dust.
In the dust was a channel of clean floor, like it had been walked across many times recently.
One end of the channel was the door I had just entered.
The other was a book case.
You gotta be kidding me I thought to myself as I approached the book case. A secret entrance behind a book case . . . how much more predictable can you get?
Looking over the book case I saw a book that was notably less dusty than the rest. Worth a shot. I pulled on the book.
The book case smoothly and silently slid open.
I looked to Mr. Fluffers. “Is she down there?”
He looked to the door then back up at me.
“You coming?”
He looked to the door then back up at me.
I was supposed to go this one alone.
You can never trust a cat.
I stepped through the opening and onto the stone stairs behind and began the long descent into the unknown.
I looked at the name on the door plaque: S. Webb.
I looked down to Mr. Fluffers, he scratched at the door.
“X marks the spot huh? . . . you ever meet this guy.”
The cat looked up at me, I could swear he was telling me “No.”
“Me either . . . can’t think I’ve ever spoken to anyone who has . . . The Master?”
Mr. Fluffers gave me what could be interpreted as shrug and pushed against the door again.
“Yeah I know, quit wasting time.”
As usual the lock yielded itself to me easily and quietly.
The office looked pretty much as you’d expect it to look. Big desk, towering book shelves, knick-knacks gathered from a life of scholarly adventure . . . and lots of dust.
The office wasn’t used . . . it was a fake.
I cautiously entered, looking around the room for any sign of where to turn next.
I found it in the dust.
In the dust was a channel of clean floor, like it had been walked across many times recently.
One end of the channel was the door I had just entered.
The other was a book case.
You gotta be kidding me I thought to myself as I approached the book case. A secret entrance behind a book case . . . how much more predictable can you get?
Looking over the book case I saw a book that was notably less dusty than the rest. Worth a shot. I pulled on the book.
The book case smoothly and silently slid open.
I looked to Mr. Fluffers. “Is she down there?”
He looked to the door then back up at me.
“You coming?”
He looked to the door then back up at me.
I was supposed to go this one alone.
You can never trust a cat.
I stepped through the opening and onto the stone stairs behind and began the long descent into the unknown.
Last edited by Ron Caliburn on Wed Jan 20, 2010 9:55 pm, edited 1 time in total.
