[CoC] Shadows of the Past

[Dark Nemesis]

Okay, everyone, please remember to put thoughts in italics, and spoken words between quotation marks. Also, during combat, please put your character's name, hit points and current sanity in the title. Thanks!

 

[Dark Nemesis]

Gloria slowly made her way up the steps, holding tightly to the handrail to keep herself from swaying from side to side. The music had been loud at the State Street speakeasy this evening, and the alcohol had been flowing. She could have had her choice of at least three gentlemen to escort her home, but the cool air and the solitude had helped to clear her mind some. She at last made it to the third floor flat which she shared with two other girlfriends, turned the key, and went inside.

Apparently, Abigail and Belinda were still out; only silence greeted her. She was about to proceed to her room when she noticed a plain white envelope upon the table beside the door, addressed to her. Inside was a letter, written on crème colored paper in neat, but cramped handwriting.

My Dear Gloria

Forgive me for being the bearer of bad news, but I must speak to you of a matter of utmost urgency regarding your mother. I must urge you to visit my office at the Shadyside Sanatorium at your earliest convenience.

Sincerely,
Dr. William Harrington

 

[Dark Nemesis]

William Blair lie upon the grass, feeling the dew as it began to soak through his shirt. He had succeeded in his goal for the evening: he had drunk himself into numbness. However, he had not been able to enjoy the feeling for very long before his body forcefully rejected the alcohol. Fortunately, he had managed to avoid falling into the puddle of his own vomit, and was content to stare up at the stars and try to will away the headache that was beginning to form.

Four years ago, yet it did not feel like that long ago. His father’s tragic death, brought to an end by an overly large fly. The very thought sent cold fear creeping into the pit of his stomach, and he seriously considered searching for that pleasant state of numbness that he had found only a few minutes before.

“I thought I would find you here.” William did not have to look up, he recognized the voice. Father Gregory, his friend and confidant, stood over him. He was looking down at him with an expression of disapproval that was clear even in the starlight.

 

[Dark Nemesis]

Somewhere in the next room, a clock chimed twelve times. Randolph Pickman-Smyth glanced at his pocket watch, which confirmed that it was midnight. though had felt like he had just sat down to pour over his history book only a few minutes ago, it had been in actuality six hours ago.

He leaned back him his chair, stretching and trying to work the kinks out of hi back from being hunched over for so long. Perhaps it was time for bed. His chair creaked as he got to his feet, and he began to collect up his books. It was only a short walk from his office at Miskatonic University to his rented room, and the cool night air would be refreshing.

He was about to turn off the lamp when a soft shuffling sound met his ears. It sounded like it had come from just outside his door.

 

[Dark Nemesis]

Charlie Johnson tossed back the last of his rye, before closing his eyes and letting the warmth of the alcohol fill him. Neatly folded in his pocket was his payment for the evening of entertainment, a few bills hastily thrown at him by the bar owner. Now he was content to enjoy his hard-earned money in peace. The sound of a glass being placd in front of him brought him out of his reverie.

“Mister, that’s some mean guitar you play,” a tall gangly black youth stood beside his chair, look at him in awe. In front of him was a full glass of rye, sitting next to his recently emptied one.

 

[Capellan]

Randoph paused, glancing at the door, then shrugged. Getting tired - hearing things. Closing the book with a 'snap', he took his coat and hat down from the stand. Popping the hat casually on his head, he left the coat folded over his arm. The cool air is just what I need to blow the cobwebs out, and I can always put it on later.

With a last touch of his pocket to make sure his keys were within, he strode to the door and opened it.

 

[Maerdwyn]

“I thought I would find you here.” William did not have to look up, he recognized the voice. Father Gregory, his friend and confidant, stood over him. He was looking down at him with an expression of disapproval that was clear even in the starlight.

Christ. He must have used that Alcorub powder again- that gin did taste a little off. God - I hate that stuff. Why doesn't he just take the bottle when he finds it? Or at least tell me he's spiked it? Then I wouldn't drink it in the first place, and there wouldn't be any need for all this vomiting. William answered himself: Because then, dear William, you'd get yourself in a stupid lather, probably take a swing at him, and stalk off into the night to get drunk someplace he'd never find you. You wanted him to find you.

William managed a rueful smile, and closed his eyes mementarily against Father Gregory's gaze. "The defendant wishes to enter a plea of 'guilty,' and throws himself on the mercy of the court." He propped himself on one elbow and held the other hand up towards Father Gregory in a "please help me stand" gesture.

 

[Gomez]

bad news......utmost urgency.......your mother

Gloria's brain tried to rap itself around the words. She shook her head to chase away the effects of the evening's gin. Gloria looks down at her bed and then the clock on her bedside table. 2:00?? It was an hour drive to the Sanitarium. Going to the bath room she splashed cool water on her face in a effort to clear her mind. No good. I am in no shape to drive. A idea creep into her head. Gloria made a quick phone call to a taxi company. If she could not drive someone else could.

 

[Dark Nemesis]

The doorknob turned, and the door opened, revealing the darkened hallway. Not a single light in the building burned, further testament to the late hour. As Randolph crossed the threshold into the hallway, he immediately became aware of a considerable drop in the temperature. It was so cold that, had Randolph had any light to see by, he would have seen his breath in the air.

His footsteps echoed off of the walls, sounding unnaturally loud in the silent hallway. BANG! Without warning, the sound of a door slamming shut could be heard, coming from the direction of the main exit.

 

[Dark Nemesis]

“I am not the one you should be asking for mercy from,” Father Gregory replied. He glared down at William, before, offering him a hand with a sigh. When he spoke again, his tone had softened. “William, why do you do this to yourself? This habit of yours will land you in an early grave.”