Part 10 – Captive Audience
There must be something wrong with me because those last two posts had me stifling mad laughter on the MBTA.
Heh. On some level Guppy tore out what may well have been an innocent man's tongue (who just happened to be possessed by an alien bug). On the other hand, we were laughing hysterically too as Guppy went completely bonkers. Mechanically, you could argue that the golem's confusion ability totally unhinged him. But that's how my brother rolls -- give him an excuse to have his character go crazy and he will gleefully play out that weakness to the hilt.
And now, on with the show!
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Occasional flashes of lightning spilled into the throne room in jagged shafts through the broken glass and iron frames of a large window in the wall opposite the entrance. Otherwise, the immense room stood in chilly, brooding darkness. Hundreds of cobwebs, thick with dust, hid the ceiling from view. At the far end of the hall, a huge throne stood atop a raised platform, its back turned to the room. Something hunched on the throne.
"Nadasdy," whispered Guppy.
Archive shook his head. "I don't think so. Look."
Whatever it was, it was large—larger than the throne, seeming almost draped over the massive chair and hanging over the arms and front. A tentacle or eyestalk rose above the dark writhing mass and twisted as if peering around.
"What…IS that?" asked Guppy.
The shapeless spawn was a great heap of flesh with only vaguely discernible features. Three large tentacles protruded from its body, but it constantly extended and withdrew an array of smaller appendages, each one bearing an eye, a mouth, or a less identifiable organ. Beneath its black, membranous skin, a pulsing heart glowed bright red, and two sac-like organs glowed a paler red beside it.
"Stand back." Archive took a few steps forward, raising his amulet. "I'll take care of this."
To either side of the throne, the stone puddle as if it were water. Gibbering masses of grey flesh rose up right out of the slate, covered with dozens of randomly placed eyes and mouths, of different sizes and shapes.
"By the power of the Elder Sign I…"
Everything else Archive shouted was drowned out by the shrieking voices. The great hall echoed with them, shrieks and cries and worse of all laughter reverberating and rebounding off the walls and inside their skulls. Jim-Bean stumbled backwards, hands clutching his ears. He turned and fled from the room.
The whip-crack of a tentacle cut through the din. If Hammer hadn't had Guppy in view he would have missed the motion, it was that fast. One of the tentacles from the thing on the throne reached out and, it seemed, barely brushed Guppy's cheek – a lover's caress. It was enough.
Guppy went insensate, howling. He was down, twitching, eyes rolling, mouth foaming.
Hammer fired at the thing and another tentacle spiraled out, this one fired like a javelin. A powerful force pierced his shoulder, nearly spun him with the impact.
Hissing from the pain, Hammer kept firing. He felt the barbed tentacle pierce his shoulder and twist. Flanges extended as the thing wiggled its tentacle in his wound. It wanted him to suffer.
It was difficult to think through the noise and the pain. He put both pistols to the tentacle jutting from his shoulder and pulled the trigger.
Black fluid spewed all over as the tentacle withdrew, severed. It was in pain. If it screamed, Hammer couldn't hear it.
Archive was still shouting, holding his amulet up. He looked tiny and pathetic in the huge room. The two other masses of gibbering flesh sank back down and the cacophony diminished somewhat. Archive's symbol was having an effect.
Hammer shook his head. White hot pain lanced his shoulder. The tentacle was still writhing, independent of the thing on the throne, remotely exercising its vengeance.
Hammer took aim at the sac-like organ and fired. It burst in the black membrane and the two remaining tentacles flailed madly.
The show of the thing's weakness hardened his resolve. Hammer was losing blood fast. He had to finish this before it finished him.
Grimacing through the pain, Hammer advanced. The two tentacles cracked toward him, but they were slower than before. Hammer skipped to the left as one smacked down. The tentacle wasn't barbed like the one still jutting from his shoulder; he took comfort in thought even though the thing that had touched Guppy was far worse.
He fired again, and the other organ burst. Now the tentacles took up a defense position, trying to cover the glowing heart.
Hammer chuckled at the irony. Maybe the damn thing's heart shouldn't glow if it didn't want it to be a target.
He fired again, missed, hit one of the tentacles. Hammer spat up a little blood. The tentacle had pierced more than his shoulder. He'd have to ask Archive to fix that.
Hammer used both pistols this time. He fired right and left of the thing and it had the intended effect. The throne thing took the bait, trying to block the gunfire from both directions, which left its heart open for a split second. Hammer put both hands together and sent a bullet right down the center.
The heart burst and immediately the noise stopped. The goo deflated, as if intelligence alone kept it propped up.
Hammer looked around. Archive was down on his knees, tripoding with one arm, his free hand clutched around his amulet as if in prayer. Guppy was still rolling around, but his howling had stopped.
A second later Jim-Bean came panting back through the door. "Did you get it?" was all he asked.
Hammer spat more blood out on the floor near the throne. "Yeah, we got it."
Archive rose unsteadily to his feet. "Was that an Inconnu? Is Nadasdy sane now?"
"Maybe," said Hammer. "That doesn't change anything. Fix up Guppy and let's go."