Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)

[talien]

Chapter 63: Silent Scream - Introduction

This story hour is from "Silent Scream" by Scott Aniolowski. You can read more about Delta Green at Delta Green. Please note: This story hour contains spoilers!

Our cast of characters includes:

• Game Master: Michael Tresca (http://michael.tresca.net)
• Joseph “Archive” Fontaine (Dedicated Hero/Acolyte) played by Joe Lalumia
• Jim “Jim-Bean” Baxter (Charismatic Hero/Telepath) played by Jeremy Ortiz (Jeremy Robert Ortiz)
• Kurtis “Hammer” Grange (Fast/Dedicated Hero/Gunslinger) played by George Webster

When you've been game mastering for the same players for over twenty years it's amazing how you start to synchronize. George mentioned that, given the agents no longer have Majestic-12 to back them, they would need allies. Allies, he thought, that could help them with a grass roots rebellion. He thought immediately of Fiona Lin-Wei, the environmentalist they radicalized against the Mythos.

Of course, all along I had planned to smuggle in some Americans into the Goatswood plot. The excuse was a movie remake. I just dug into the treasure trove of characters we had in the past tied to movies: the writer (Randy Kalms), the director (Derik VanVon, newly released from prison), and the actress (Christine Dee). Fiona was almost an afterthought, undercover as a camerawoman and really the only contact that the agents valued.

Then there's Snow Dog. That Snow Dog. Or maybe not that Snow Dog.

This scenario is supposed to be a murder mystery, but it actually became a role-playing experiment as the players got a chance to stretch their role-playing legs, kick back, and take a break from shooting at stuff. They made it through dinner before the shooting started again.

Defining Moment: Jim-Bean uses his psychic abilities to solve the mystery, and discovers the murderer is the monster at the door.

Relevant Media

• Ramsey Campbell's Goatswood and Less Pleasant Places: [ame=http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/1568821530/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=michaeltresca&linkCode=as2&camp=1789&creative=390957&creativeASIN=1568821530]Ramsey Campbell's Goatswood and Less Pleasant Places: A Present Day Severn Valley Sourcebook and Campaign (Call of Cthulhu roleplaying): Scott David Aniolowski,Gary Sumpter,Lynn Willis,Matt Harpold,Paul Carrick: 9781568821535: Amazon.com: Books[/ame]
• Eyes of the Stranger by the Payolas: [ame="http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B0000072TW/ref=as_li_ss_tl?ie=UTF8&tag=michaeltresca&linkCode=as2&camp=217145&creative=399349&creativeASIN=B0000072TW"]Amazon.com: Between Rock & Hyde Place - Best of: Payolas: Music[/ame]

 

[talien]

Silent Scream: Prologue

…I sense a danger,
You've got the eyes of a stranger.​

--Eyes of a Stranger by the Payolas​

BRICHESTER, ENGLAND—"It appears we have visitors, sir," announced Alfred.

Jim-Bean opened the door just as a black stretch limousine arrived at Windthrope Manor with three American visitors.

"What in the bloody…" was all he got out, trailing off as the visitors exited the limo.

"Jimmy!" shouted Randy Kalms, scriptwriter and Mythos author, practically hopping out of the limo. "I thought you were dead! I can't believe you've been hiding out in England all this time!" He looked around at the manor. "This is a pretty amazing place! So, uh, I should probably bring you up to speed…" He looked back nervously over his shoulder. Randy's voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "I heard from your friend Mr. Alzis that you were in trouble. He asked me to work with your friend Fiona to get everybody here, but the only way I could do it was…"

"Alziz…?" Jim-Bean blinked slowly.

"I'll get the brandy, sir." Alfred made his way towards the kitchen.

Out stepped Derik Vanvon, former director of the remake of Curse of the Undead. "Master Baxter," said the portly director with a wide grin. "So good to be working with you again."

Randy fingered his collar. "Yeah, uh, see about that. So I guess Mr. Alzis got Vanvon off of whatever charges the police brought against him. He was cleared of all wrongdoing. So he's producing a film here – that's our cover anyway. But there's something else you should know…"

Jim-Bean put one hand out and, without looking, grabbed the glass of brandy from a tray Alfred had returned with. He took a long slurp.

Hammer pulled up in the stolen vehicle they used for short missions into Brichester. He exited the vehicle with a tray of McDonald's food in his hand.

"Hammer…what in the—"

Before he could finish, out stepped the shapely leg of a woman nobody could ever forget. Christine Dee. Agent Blade's ex-wife, B-movie scream queen, and a Hollywood bombshell.

"Oh Agent Hammer!" She ran up to Hammer, throwing her arms around him. He almost lost his grip on his Diet Coke. "I can't tell you how grateful Alex and I are for all your support. It's been hard, between movies…" her eyes welled up. "And the government reduced our benefits. I'm hoping this film will be the one I become famous for," she sniffed. "Well, just…just thank you." She gave Hammer a kiss on the cheek.

"Yeah, I uh…Guppy helped me get a message to Fiona," muttered Hammer. "I asked for her help with contacts here and I guess...this is it."

Jim-Bean transferred the empty glass of brandy from one hand to the other and, without looking, put it down on the tray that Alfred nimbly moved to the opposite side.

Fiona exited the limo carrying Christine's luggage and a film camera on her back. She glared from Christine to Hammer, then back to Christine, huffed, and dropped the luggage in front of the manor's doors. "Carry yer own god damn luggage, bitch!"

Christine let go of Hammer. "What was that all about?"

Vanvon stepped over to Jim-Bean, arms behind his back, luggage unattended. "I assume you've been briefed?" He arched an eyebrow at Randy, who stuttered.

Jim-Bean snatched the bottle of brandy off of Alfred's tray.

"No? Of course not. Well then, Mr. Carpenter – that's John Carpenter -- is planning to re-make the 1925 silent film The Harbinger, which tells the story of Sir Gilbert Morley. Mr. Kalms is researching the film, and will co-write the screenplay with Carpenter, while Miss Dee will star. We'll be staying a few days at the mansion while Mr. Kalms and I do research for the film; you will, of course, be compensated for your troubles. The male lead will be arriving in a separate vehicle. Ah yes, here he is now." Vanvon swept into the manor.

Hammer, still standing at the entryway to the manor, looked from the limo to the black Mercedes Benz. Christine and Fiona were already in the manor. Jim-Bean stood in the entryway, a man powerless to resist the powerful winds of change blowing through his home.

Randy cleared his throat. "One other, OTHER thing. I thought he was dead along with the rest of you guys but it looks like he takes his deep cover seriously cause…"

Bad, foul-mouthed, rap music bellowed across the entryway as the Benz pulled up to the door. Snow Dog exited the vehicle.

"Yo whassup homies?"

Jim-Bean took a swig from the bottle.

 

[talien]

Silent Scream: Part 1 – Guess Who's Coming to Dinner?

Jim-Bean sat at the head of a very long table in the dining room. He walked through the manor in a daze. Fiona and Christine left each other a blessedly wide berth, but that didn't keep Vanvon and Kalms from irritating Jim-Bean by snooping around the house. He gave Jenkins orders to keep them at bay, but it didn't improve his mood. Snow Dog seemed content to keep to himself.

Against his wishes, Mrs. Jenkins arranged a dinner. Jim-Bean flounced at the head of the table. Snow Dog was to his right, Hammer on his left. Christine sat next to Snow Dog and Fiona sat next to Hammer. Further down was Guppy, Archive, and the others.

The ever-present snifter of Brandy magically appeared at Jim-Bean's right. Jenkins made sure it was never out of reach.

"I don't get it." Jim-Bean squinted at Snow Dog. "How are you Snow Dog?'

"Yo G, I feel you." Snow Dog slapped his chest. "It's been awhile, right? I gotsta introduce myself to the fam." He threw one arm over Christine's chair and winked at her.

Guppy cleared his throat from the far side of the table. "He's legit."

"I KNOW he's legit," growled Jim-Bean, He turned his gaze back on Snow Dog. "Let me guess…you started as Rob Johnson with a hip-hop rap group, White Chocolate."

Snow Dog bobbed his head. "Too right! Got my first big break, yo, when we were invited to open for Heavy D. & The Boyz on their 1999 tour."

"And you were in construction."

"…and left mah home town of Buffalo when I went on the road, see?"

"And then in 2000 you recorded your debut album…"

"Blizzard, right! So you a fan!"

Jim-Bean slapped his forehead. "I WROTE all this. I don't understand…what have you been doing in the past year?"

"Aww, you know dog. Posters, t-shirts, pillows, buttons…" He tossed a button on the table. Jim-Bean ignored it. "Maybe you've seen my videos…"

"I have," volunteered Christine, fluttering her long lashes. "Your spread in Playgirl was…fantastic."

Fiona rolled her eyes.

Snow Dog focused his piercing blue eyes on Christine, as if noticing her for the first time. "That right? Well maybe you'd like to get a taste of the real—"

"So anyway," interrupted Vanvon, "Mr. Dog will be debuting in his breakout role for our movie, The Harbinger."

Jim-Bean was still boring bullet holes through Snow Dog's skull, who was much too preoccupied with Christine to notice. "There's no movie."

Kalms nearly spat out his food. "What Jimmy means to say is there's no movie without his permission, right? We wouldn't dream of filming anything here without your permission." He pleaded. "Right Jimmy?"

Jim-Bean sighed and took a long slurp from the snifter.

"Speaking of the business you have here," said Hammer. "Who are your contacts in England?"

"Students Against Nuclear Energy. SANE."

"SANE?"

"Right." Hammer's smirk disappeared when he realized Fiona was deadly serious. She lowered her voice. "They're a branch of the Bringers of Sacred Light here in Brichester."

"And they have…resources?"

"Yes. A little disorganized perhaps, but…" her mouth snapped shut as Christine clasped one well-manicured hand on Snow Dog's arm.

"The Harbinger is actually a remake," interjected Vanvon, aggravated by the lack of interest in his film shoot. "It was originally filmed in 1925 by MGM, starring Lon Chaney. So you see we've set something of a precedent."

"What precedent?" asked Archive, looking up from his meal.

"Americans visiting England to film The Harbinger," huffed Vanvon. "The Harbinger recounts the legends of demonologist Sir Gilbert Morley, and was filmed at the very castle he had owned some two hundred years earlier. Lon Chaney played the auspicious part of Morley, while Theron Lysander had the role of the vicar. Although no demon is actually shown in the silent film, ominous toad-like shadows appear on screen when Chaney summons his monster. In the end, the monster which casts the toad-like shadow kills the demonologist, and the vicar leads his congregation in destroying the mansion." He winced under Jim-Bean's sudden attention. "That will all be done in post-production, of course."

"Well," said Jim-Bean, "I've had enough. I'm going to bed."

Christine looked meaningfully at Snow Dog. "Me too."

 

[talien]

Silent Scream: Part 2 – A Tryst

Hammer finally managed to coax Fiona out onto the balcony.

"Look," he began, staring out into the manor grounds that yawned into darkness. "I know I didn't tell you about Christine…"

Fiona punched him in the face. She was pulling her punches – it was a light tap, comparatively. But it hit him hard enough to stun him. Hammer rubbed his jaw. "Ow."

"That's fer dyin' on me and not tellin' me first." Fiona's eyes flashed, glinting in the light from the dining room behind them. The guests were retiring one by one. "Ye practically adopted her kid!"

"It was a promise I made to Agent Blade," responded Hammer. "When he died, I felt…responsible."

"But now the payments have stopped, eh? No more gravy train for the washed up slutty actress?"

"I don't know if that's…" his defense of Christine trailed off. The light in her guest room flicked on, then off, and then Snow Dog's room lit up. Loud moans and shrieks made it very clear Snow Dog wasn’t alone.

"Anyway, it's pretty clear there's nothing between us."

Fiona followed his gaze. "Yah, that's clear."

"So are we cool?"

Fiona frowned at him. "I flew halfway across the globe for ye, didn't I?" She shoved him, lighter this time. "Just don't die on me again."

Hammer nodded. "I don't plan to."

 

[talien]

Silent Scream: Part 3 – Family Secrets

Jim-Bean snapped awake. Alfred was in his doorway.

"Something you might want to see, sir?"

Jim-Bean hopped out of bed and rubbed his eyes. "What is it Alfred?"

"A corpse, sir." He had Jim-Bean's robe and slippers in hand. Alfred helped Jim-Bean get into both. “Someone appears to have cut the power.”

"What kind of corpse?" asked Jim-Bean calmly. He expected this.

"It's difficult to tell sir."

"Christ." Jim-Bean nearly bumped into Mrs. Jenkins as he strode into the hallway. "Mrs. Jenkins, please keep all the other guests in their rooms."

Mrs. Jenkins, in her house dress, whirled on one slippered heel and immediately blocked Vanvon from getting past his open door. “What is the meaning of this?” he sputtered but was quickly shushed by Mrs. Jenkins.

Hammer and Archive met Jim-Bean further down the hall. "What is it?" they asked.

Jim-Bean stopped at the top of the steps and then looked over his shoulder. "That depends. Is Fiona here?"

"Aye," said Fiona, dressed in a baggy sweatshirt and rubbing her eyes. "And?"

"Then I'm guessing that's Dee down there. Or at least, what's left of her."

At the bottom of the winding staircase there was a surreal scene of savagery wildly contrasting with the baroque stateliness of the manor steps.

Dee's face was ripped off: the wound looked rather like an odd bite mark. Her breasts and crotch were gutted with gaping wounds worthy of a great white shark. Oddly, there was only a small spot of blood by the body.

Hammer was down the steps faster than the others. "She had a little boy…" he gasped.

"Were there any signs of a struggle?" Archived asked.

"None sir," said Alfred, materializing by Jim-Bean's side. "I'm afraid whatever did this was quite stealthy."

Hammer didn't look up. "I want a head count. Now."

"It's not like there's that many of us…" began Jim-Bean. "Wait a minute…where's Snow Dog?"

"And Kalms?" asked Archive.

Jim-Bean, still at the top of the steps, knocked on Snow Dog's door. No answer.

"Alfred?"

Alfred unlocked Snow Dog's room.

Inside, the young man was naked, wrists and ankles tied to bedposts, with a gag in his mouth. Dead. There was a single bite-like wound in the Snow Dog's groin--his reproductive organs are missing. The bed was soaked with clotted blood, and a pool of the thick substance had formed on the floor. His ankles and wrists were bruised and bloody where he struggled to break free.

Jim-Bean closed the door without a word. "There's only one way to get to the bottom of this."

 

[talien]

Silent Scream: Part 4 – The Watcher

“The backup generator should be running.” Guppy was still groggy with sleep. “Our security systems are tied to it…”

“Oh dear, I hope someone hasn’t cut the power to that too!” declared Mrs. Jenkins.

Archive shrugged on his shirt. “I’ll check it out.”

“I’ll go with you dear.” Before Archive could protest she cut him off. “You’ll do no good fumbling around in the dark. I’ve a torch,” she rattled a large flashlight, “and I know the way.”

“But if it was sabotage, whoever did this could still be lurking out there…”

In her free hand she loaded a pump-action shotgun. “That’s why I’ve got this, dear.” She flashed Archive a benevolent smile to sooth his ego. “And you’ll protect me of course.”

“Okay.” Jim-Bean tapped his temple. “We’ll be in touch.”

After they set off, Jim-Bean and Hammer made their way down the steps.

“There’s not a lot of blood. She was killed somewhere else and the body was dumped here.” Hammer’s eyes glistened in the feeble light of the moon.

Jim-Bean was too preoccupied to notice. He leaned down and touched the floor near Christine’s body, thoughtfully covered by Alfred with a sheet. The sheet was soaked with blood in three places, creating a grotesque V.

A gust of wind filled the room. Jim-Bean glanced down at his hand. It turned a pale white and began to shake and jerk about uncontrollably.

Jim-Bean stared on incredulously as his hand, guided by some unseen force, began to sketch a figure on the wall using Christine’s blood. The wind gale through an open window but died down slowly as his hand completed the drawing. It lost the pale cast was under his control once more.

He had drawn a palm with a screaming mouth in the center.

“Snap out of it!” Hammer snarled, shaking Jim-Bean. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

Their heads all jerked around at the sound of snapping wood beneath the floorboards.

Jim-Bean cocked his head. “Do you hear that?”

There was another sound, almost like faint breathing.

“It seems to be coming from the cellar, sir,” said Alfred dryly.

 

[talien]

Silent Scream: Part 5 – The Cellar

Windthrope Manor’s cellar looked as if it were actually built on a much older cellar, judging from the age of the bricks. There were re two smaller rooms: a wine cellar and more storage space. The coal furnace, coal bin, and petrol-fueled electrical generators were located down there.

Down below, Jim-Bean and Hammer moved quietly past the old stone walls and wooden beams which supported the main floor above. In front of them stood an old door which led to another section of the cellar. Before Jim-Bean could touch the door, it swung open slowly with a moan.

Racks of dusty wine bottles lined the walls of the cool, dry room. Condensation from water pipes above turned the cellar into an echo chamber as drips fell into shallow pools on the dirt floor below.

Jim-Bean swept his light to another corner and revealed several items atop a small table. There was a reel-to-reel tape recorder, an old film projector, a wind up record player, a shotgun, and a box of rifle shells.

Hammer turned the recorder on.

“My name is Douglas Winthrope,” began the voice, warped with age and the dying battery of the recorder. “I am a parapsychologist working for the British Museum...I am recording this entry from Windthrope Manor, which I inherited from my father. Here, I am staying with my wife for a few weeks so that I may continue my research undisturbed. Since May, a group of associate professors and myself have been excavating the ruins of Glaaki. I believe I have made an important find in that area, and thus the reason for this log. With it, I can keep an accurate record of translations from my latest find; the last of twelve, the others still lost, volumes of the worshippers of Glaaki. “

“Basically, it is a book dealing with the Great Old Ones entitled ‘The Revelations of Glaaki.’ It is bound in human flesh, and inked with blood of the deceased...This particular volume deals with Y’golonac and those scampering, tattered minions who serve him.”

“The first few pages that I have translated warn that Y’golonac is dangerous, ever-present, and exists primarily through this book. As legend has it, only the sacred high priests of Glaaki could possess these books, for they alone could properly control Y’golonac. It is only through the act of reciting the resurrection passage that Y’golonac would be able to possess the living. When his name is spoken or read he comes forth to be worshipped or to feed and take on the shape and soul of those he feeds upon. For those who read of evil and search for its form within their minds call forth evil, and so may Y’golonac return to walk among men and await that time when the earth is cleared off…”

Outside, clouds rolled in from the east, thunder boomed in the distance, and as the wind picked up, it began to rain.

“…and Cthulhu rises from his tomb among the weeds and Glaaki thrusts open the crystal trapdoor…”

The winds howled, and blackbirds flew from their nests outside, screaming.

“…the brood of Eihort are born into daylight, Shub-Niggurath strides forth to smash the Moon-Lens…”

A bolt of lightning struck very near the manor and its thunder crash was deafening.

“…Byatis bursts forth from his prison, and Daoloth tears away illusion to expose the reality concealed behind!”

“Shut that off!” shouted Jim-Bean.

Hammer struggled with it. The button was stuck on PLAY. He hit another button and the audio accelerated with a shriek, then played again:

“March 12th. Camille came after me and almost murdered me. My own wife. At first I thought it was a physical disorder because of what had happened to her hands, but I was only fooling myself. I knew what it was.”

Hammer hit another button. More shrieking as it advanced, then resumed playing.

“Three days have passed since that thing has been down there. I was hoping to weaken it without food or water. Nothing worked. I could not bring myself to dismember her myself. But I buried her. I…buried her…in the cellar. God help me, I walled her up in the fruit cellar.”

Hammer just tossed the recording against the wall. It snapped apart, the voice slowing to a guttural moan before finally stopping.

“Finally,” muttered Jim-Bean.

Just the power flicked on. The record player started playing 1920s-like jazz and the movie projector burst to life, even though there was no film.

“At least Archive got the power running,” said Hammer, pistols at the ready.

The screen flickered a sickly pale yellow on the opposite wall.

“Look at this.” Jim-Bean edged into the projector’s light. “The wall has cracks here. Almost as if…”

“It was removed and replaced,” said Hammer.

With a shove, Jim-Bean tugged hard on the brick. The entire wall fell forward. It would have taken incredible strength to pick it up and move it.

Inside, the walls were soiled and old. In the middle of the room stood a metal bedstead covered by an old and worn mattress. A small night table had an ancient dagger lying next to it. A shower of blood speckled the room, and a pool of the red fluid stained the center of the mattress.

“Oh God,” whispered Hammer. “This is where…”

Jim-Bean picked up the dagger. It was made of human bone. “This is weird.”

“THAT’S the only weird thing you noticed in this room?” asked Hammer, trying to not look at the blood.

Before he could say more a greenish-white arm, silhouetted by the projector, burst out of the floor.

 

[RedTonic]

8D I'm delirious with happiness!

 

[talien]

Silent Scream: Part 6 – The Lost Room

Welcome back RT, glad you're sticking with us.

=======

Jim-Bean leaped backwards as a huge clawed hand jabbered, the fanged maw in its palm shrieking with cracked lips. Another arm blasted out from the other side, desiccated with decades of rot. But still there was enough for the mouth that shouldn’t be in a hand that had no right to exist. Together, the two fanged maws made an unholy chorus.

Hammer unleashed on the rising corpse, punching dusty holes with his Glocks. One of the gnashing mouths faced palm-down as it lifted a huge, fetid bulk out of the dirt. One pendulous breast slipped free as the thing that was once Camille lurched to the surface. Even in death she had not been released from Y’golonac’s grip.

In the stuttering light of the projector the conflict took on gray and white hues. Jim-Bean tossed the knife from one hand to the other, debating on whether it would be effective against the corpse or if it would just make things worse.

Camille slapped one flabby foot onto the dirt of the hidden room, rising up to its full height. Even without a head, the thing had to crouch. It blocked the way out completely and with it the projector’s light. Glistening yellow fangs reached for their faces…

With a shriek, the body collapsed in on itself, shuddering and wheezing. Archive stood in the glow of the projector, the Elder Sign clutched in his palm.

“Sorry I was late,” he said. “There’s…” they noticed the scratches on his arms and face, “…a problem upstairs.”

Distant gunfire lent urgency to Archive’s words. They charged back up the steps.

 

[talien]

Silent Scream: Part 7 – The Thirteenth Hour

“The manor defenses are running full tilt!” came Guppy’s voice, echoing through the telepathic connection in their heads.

Outside, children were torn apart by gunfire from the manor rooftops. Automated drones swept the grounds, coldly picking and eliminating their targets. Child after child went down in a spray of bullets.

“Christ!” shrieked Fiona, a machinegun in her grip pointed at Vanvon’s back, whom she didn’t trust. “They’re sending children now?”

“Those aren’t children,” said Mrs. Jenkins. Her housedress was torn in several places. “Those are eyeless little monsters.”

Archive nodded. “The Children of Y’golonac, that crawl on his bulk.”

“That means Y’golonac is coming.” Hammer reloaded both of his Glocks.

“Where’s Kalms?” Jim-Bean rummaged around in his satchel for the crystal ball. “He’s got to be involved in this somehow.”

He put his fingertips to the crystal and concentrated.

His vision swept up and out the uppermost window of the manor; up, up, up…and then straight down at the huge, headless, fat mountain that clambered towards the manor house, surrounded by scampering eyeless children.

Jim-Bean zoomed in. The thing was naked, but he could make out a tattoo on one arm, of an anchor.

The same tattoo on…

Jim-Bean snapped out of his vision to stare at the front door. “Yep, it’s Kalms.”

BOOM! A gouge worthy of a great white tore splinters out of the sturdy oak door. The children slapped their tiny mawed hands against the windows.

“Open fire!” shouted Hammer.

Mrs. Jenkins, armed with a shotgun, Alfred armed with his pistol, and Fiona armed with her submachinegun all let loose on Y’golonac’s children, who seemed oblivious to the threat of harm. For every one that fell another eyeless, searching face filled the gap.

BOOM! The wood began to splinter. The wall cracked beneath the terrific force of whatever was outside hammering upon it.

“We can’t fight him!” shouted Archive. “He can only be banished.”

“How?” asked Hammer.

“That knife!” Archive pointed at the knife tucked into Jim-Bean’s belt buckle. “Let me see it!”

Jim-Bean tossed him the knife.

BOOM! One of the doors groaned as it began to tear from its hinges. Dust fell all around them.

“Yes,” Archive twisted the hilt of the blade in his hands and a thin piece of paper slipped out. “This is the banish ritual! Hold him off until I can complete it!”

“Hold him off?” asked Fiona. “With what?”

“Nos-feratos-allo-memnon-kanda!” shouted Archive.

The massive bulk squeezed its way through the front doorway. Hammer, Jim-Bean, Fiona, and the Jenkins let loose with everything they had.

“Kanda! Samonda Roba Areda Gyes Indy En-zeen, Nos-Feratos!” chanted Archive.

Flesh tore and ripped, oozing greasy yellow fat tinged with red veins. But still the massive bulk kept coming. First one arm, the fangs in the palm gaping as wide, then another.

“Archive…!” shouted Hammer, as the Y’golonac’s full form stretched out, blocking out the chandelier’s light above.

Archive’s chant reached a fever pitch as he finished reading from the scroll. “Nos-feratos - Amen-non. Ak-adeem! Razin - Arozonia...Kanda!”

Y’golonac froze. Smoke poured from its dual slobbering maws as distant demonical screams screeched from its hands. The body caved inward upon itself, collapsing to the floor in smoldering heap. Finally, nothing was left but burnt clothing and a blackish grey ooze on the floor where its body once was.