[CoC] Shadows of the Past

[Dark Nemesis]

Randolph’s footsteps sounded thunderous as he slowly crossed the office to check on Killington. There were no other sounds, however. Professor Killington did not reply, and did not move save for his hair occasionally being ruffled by the cool breeze.

Slowly, Randolph drew nearer, until he was within arms length of Killington. Then, with a gasp the Professor sat upright and lashed out, grabbing Randolph’s wrists in an iron grip. “They’re coming,” he hissed. He stared up at Randolph, though he could not have seen him. Killington’s eyes had been gouged out, and blood ran down his cheeks like crimson tears. His throat, too, had been cut, his shirt front covered with his lifeblood.

(OOC: The shock of Killington’s outburst necessitated a sanity check. Starting sanity was 50, Randolph rolled a 75. His current sanity is 47.)

 

[Dark Nemesis]

“That would be wonderful,” Alicia purred, and Charlie noted a slight southern drawl in her words.

He retrieved her coat, and they walked together into the night, uninterrupted by Bennie or anybody else. Alicia led the way, making light conversation as they made their way through the city streets. They passed no one, save a Catholic priest and a disheveled white man headed in the opposite direction.

“So where are you from, Mister Johnson?” Alicia asked, her arms folded across her chest to fend off the evening chill.

 

[Dark Nemesis]

A quick search through Father Gregory’s desk yields the pen and paper, and the note is quickly scribbled.

As he walked back to the apartments, he strained to make out the lettering in the dim light. However, he was able to learn that the telegraph had been sent from an office in the northern part of Boston, and it had been sent at 10 am on the day before. However, the telegraph did not offer any other answers to William’s questions.

 

[Maerdwyn]

It's about 4 now. Gives me about four hours to shower and sober up. No need to convince him I a drunk when he's just decided I wasn't a nut after all. When William gets back tot he apartment, he puts on a large pot of coffee, showers, sets an alarm clock (just in case) and spends the rest of the night reviewing his own notes and sketches, as well as newspaper clippings surrounding his grandfather's slaying. He plans to be at Sherman's office at 7:45, killing time until it opens.

When daylight arrives, he drinks more coffee, dresses in one of his better suits, and leaves for the address printed on the telegram. He feels a little jumpy, a little nervous, and doesn't know quite why. Well, a gallon of coffee and just a drunk's sleep might have something to do with it, genius. All the same, he slips his handgun into his pocket, picking it up from wher it sits, right next to a flask of whiskey on his bedside table. I should pour that out, he thinks with conviction. But somehow, he forgets to do it before leaving the apartment for Sherman's office.

 

[Gomez]

Gloria

At first, no one answered her knock, Then, the door slowly creaked open. Towering within the doorframe was a man whom Gloria recognized to be one of the orderlies. He was seven feet tall, with short black hair and narrow grey eyes. For a moment, he stared at Gloria, before speaking. “Yes?”

Gloria stands a little taller and puts a commanding tone in her voice. The one she uses with servents and staff. "I am Gloria Delapore-Lowell. I am here to see Dr. Harrington." She steps through the doorway. Hopefully causing the man to move out of the way. "Please tell the good Doctor that I am here. Oh, and a cup of tea would do nicely."

 

[Capellan]

Randolph lurched back, bile rising in his throat at the shocking sight. HIs hand scrabbled at the desk, clutching to it to support himself, and he took several deep, shuddering breaths. Heart pounding, he gathered his wits enough to run to the window and look out, searching for any sign of the person who had done this.

 

[sellars]

They passed no one, save a Catholic priest and a disheveled white man headed in the opposite direction.

“So where are you from, Mister Johnson?” Alicia asked, her arms folded across her chest to fend off the evening chill.

"Good evening father" Charlie says as he lifts his hat. Now, what would a white priest do here at this hour on this side of town? Charlie wondered.

"where I'm from baby? From deep into the mean ol' south. I've been ramblin' this long I'd almost forget it. What about you pumpkin, how did you end up in this hole?" Is it still far? Charlie thought Man, I had too much booze. I sure hope she has a good bed, at least better than the sack of hay from yesterday .

 

[Maerdwyn]

A little while ago...

"Good evening father" Charlie says as he lifts his hat. Now, what would a white priest do here at this hour on this side of town? Charlie wondered.

William realized he recognized the guy who spoke to Father Gregory - a guitar player he seen around the speakeasies in town. He might have responded when the man greeted the Father, but, fighting off a new wave of nausea, he instead concentrated on remaining upright. All he could manage was a slight nod of recognition as he and Father Gregory moved on towards the rectory.

 

[Dark Nemesis]

The address on the telegram led William to a police station, in the northwestern part of town. It took about half an hour to get there, and he finally reached the front door at 7:52. Not many people were going into the police station, but a few people were leaving; mostly uniformed officers who had just finished the night shift. No one paid any attention to William as he arrived.

 

[Dark Nemesis]

The orderly steps aside as Gloria pushes her way into the foyer. The air inside the sanatorium was heavy and oppressive. Though there were a few lamps in the hallway, as well as a vase with fresh cut flowers, it was clear that it was not a very happy place. Faintly, Gloria could hear someone sobbing in one of the rooms, as well as a steady THUD-THUD of something heavy impacting against something solid.

Wordlessly, the orderly led her into a room off of the foyer, a richly appointed sitting room. Another young lady was sitting in the room, and tea had already been served. “I will let the doctor know that you are here, Miss Delapore-Lowell,” the orderly said. Without another word, he made his way down the hallway.

“Gloria? Darling, is that you?” the other young woman asked. It was then that Gloria recognized her: Elizabeth Pike. They had attended private school together.