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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 4072904" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Lethal Legacy: Part 5 – The Sunroom</strong></p><p></p><p>The Kalms home was a solid, timber-built fortress with its own fuel and supplies. It was as well equipped for country life as a man who was wealthy and who had time could make it. </p><p></p><p>They approached the foyer double doors and range the doorbell.</p><p></p><p>Randy Kalms, instantly recognizable, met them at the door with a shotgun dangling from one hand. “What the HELL do you want?”</p><p></p><p>Archive stepped forward. “Mr. Kalms? I’m Joe Fontaine. You wrote me a note about wanting to speak with me?”</p><p></p><p>Randy blinked. “Why didn’t you SAY so! Come on in, come on in!” He put the shotgun aside as he opened the door. “Sorry about the shotgun, you can’t be too CAREFUL these days, if you know what I’m saying.”</p><p></p><p>Archive nodded. They took off their coats and hung them in the foyer. Randy led them to the sunroom. “Mary, we’ve got some guests. Put on a pot of coffee!”</p><p></p><p>The sunroom had floor-to-ceiling windows. It housed a large, open fire. A massive amount of firewood was stored beside the fireplace along with a bellows. There was lots of comfortable furniture, some of it antique. A drinks cabinet and entertainment system gleamed in one corner. </p><p></p><p>After introductions were made, Randy sat down. “So,” he said, his eyebrows rising. “What brings all you boys here together?” Randy gestured at everyone sitting around him. “Are you some sort of groupies for Fontaine here?”</p><p></p><p>Mary came in with a pot of tea and coffee. She looked just like her picture from the magazine. </p><p></p><p>“I freelance for these gentlemen,” said Archive. “What did you want to know about what happened at the Paradise Theater?”</p><p></p><p>Mary put the tea and coffee pots on the central table. With a “thanks honey,” Randy took up his own coffee cup and slurped a sip. “Richard Jacobs died in that fire at the Theater, right?”</p><p></p><p>“Right,” said Archive.</p><p></p><p>Randy leaned forward. “Let me tell you what I think. I think Richard Jacobs was part of a cult. And I think he was initiated into that cult when he was very young.”</p><p></p><p>“Do you have evidence of this?” asked Hammer. </p><p></p><p>“Did you know that Richard Jacobs, was raised by the Labib Home for Children until 1937, and then transferred to St. Matthew’s Orphanage?”</p><p></p><p>Hammer shook his head. </p><p></p><p>“Do you know what organization funded the Labib Home for Children?”</p><p></p><p>“Uh, no?” prodded Archive.</p><p></p><p>“MegaCosmos. Let me tell you what I think: I think MegaCosmos used that orphanage to fund a cult, the Cult of the Black Brotherhood.”</p><p></p><p>Jim-Bean rolled his eyes. “Here we go…”</p><p></p><p>Randy hopped to his feet. “Hear me out. I think the Labib Home for Children was used to recruit orphans into the occult arts, but there was a split in the 1930s. One group, the group that is the Black Brotherhood, funds MegaCosmos. The other one went on to become the New Moon Temple.”</p><p></p><p>“Never heard of them,” said Archive.</p><p></p><p>”That’s why it’s so important I get the word out in my new book!” Randy was pacing. “The New Moon has deacons who are loyal to Nyarlathotep. You might know it as the Fate.”</p><p></p><p>“Stephen Alzis,” said Blade.</p><p></p><p>“You know him?”</p><p></p><p>“You could say that.”</p><p></p><p>“The heart of the New Moon theology is the Rite of Ambrosia. It’s a ritualized form of cannibalism in which a victim is eaten alive over the course of several months.”</p><p></p><p>Guppy shivered. “Sounds awful.”</p><p></p><p>“It is. The deacons receive their orders through dreams from Nyarlathotep. But now something new is going down. The Black Brotherhood is challenging the New Moon’s power. I think a war’s about to start, and the opening volley was the death of Robert Jacobs. The Fate isn’t going to let that go. It’s all in my book, Yuggoth Creatures.” </p><p></p><p>He threw a manuscript on the coffee table. The subtitle read, “Being an Account of the Discoveries of Fabulous and Terrible Truths Concerning Our World.”</p><p></p><p>Archive stared into his tea. “Randy, if this is true…if you’re writing a tell-all book, you might anger a lot of people.”</p><p></p><p>Randy smirked. “I served in ‘Nam, man. I can take care of myself.”</p><p></p><p>Archive nodded. “My…associates are good at protecting people. Do you mind if we take a look around, just in case?”</p><p></p><p>“Sure,” said Randy. “Scott! Scott, come down here!”</p><p></p><p>Scott, a pimply-faced teen, sauntered into the room. “Yes?” he sighed.</p><p></p><p>“Take mister…”</p><p></p><p>“Hammer.”</p><p></p><p>“Hammer for a tour, please.” </p><p></p><p>Scott grumbled, but he was intimidated by the size of the man before him.</p><p></p><p>“Come on.”</p><p></p><p>Everyone watched Hammer go. Their gaze turned back to Guppy, whose back was facing the glass panels of the sunroom.</p><p></p><p>“I saw something on the way here,” said Guppy nervously. “It was huge. With glowing red eyes.”</p><p></p><p>The team, including Randy, was staring past him out the window. </p><p></p><p>“What?” asked Guppy. “Is there something on my face?”</p><p></p><p>Looming behind him was the shadowy figure, bent down to view the top of Guppy’s head as if it were a child bending down to look at an ant.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 4072904, member: 3285"] [b]Lethal Legacy: Part 5 – The Sunroom[/b] The Kalms home was a solid, timber-built fortress with its own fuel and supplies. It was as well equipped for country life as a man who was wealthy and who had time could make it. They approached the foyer double doors and range the doorbell. Randy Kalms, instantly recognizable, met them at the door with a shotgun dangling from one hand. “What the HELL do you want?” Archive stepped forward. “Mr. Kalms? I’m Joe Fontaine. You wrote me a note about wanting to speak with me?” Randy blinked. “Why didn’t you SAY so! Come on in, come on in!” He put the shotgun aside as he opened the door. “Sorry about the shotgun, you can’t be too CAREFUL these days, if you know what I’m saying.” Archive nodded. They took off their coats and hung them in the foyer. Randy led them to the sunroom. “Mary, we’ve got some guests. Put on a pot of coffee!” The sunroom had floor-to-ceiling windows. It housed a large, open fire. A massive amount of firewood was stored beside the fireplace along with a bellows. There was lots of comfortable furniture, some of it antique. A drinks cabinet and entertainment system gleamed in one corner. After introductions were made, Randy sat down. “So,” he said, his eyebrows rising. “What brings all you boys here together?” Randy gestured at everyone sitting around him. “Are you some sort of groupies for Fontaine here?” Mary came in with a pot of tea and coffee. She looked just like her picture from the magazine. “I freelance for these gentlemen,” said Archive. “What did you want to know about what happened at the Paradise Theater?” Mary put the tea and coffee pots on the central table. With a “thanks honey,” Randy took up his own coffee cup and slurped a sip. “Richard Jacobs died in that fire at the Theater, right?” “Right,” said Archive. Randy leaned forward. “Let me tell you what I think. I think Richard Jacobs was part of a cult. And I think he was initiated into that cult when he was very young.” “Do you have evidence of this?” asked Hammer. “Did you know that Richard Jacobs, was raised by the Labib Home for Children until 1937, and then transferred to St. Matthew’s Orphanage?” Hammer shook his head. “Do you know what organization funded the Labib Home for Children?” “Uh, no?” prodded Archive. “MegaCosmos. Let me tell you what I think: I think MegaCosmos used that orphanage to fund a cult, the Cult of the Black Brotherhood.” Jim-Bean rolled his eyes. “Here we go…” Randy hopped to his feet. “Hear me out. I think the Labib Home for Children was used to recruit orphans into the occult arts, but there was a split in the 1930s. One group, the group that is the Black Brotherhood, funds MegaCosmos. The other one went on to become the New Moon Temple.” “Never heard of them,” said Archive. ”That’s why it’s so important I get the word out in my new book!” Randy was pacing. “The New Moon has deacons who are loyal to Nyarlathotep. You might know it as the Fate.” “Stephen Alzis,” said Blade. “You know him?” “You could say that.” “The heart of the New Moon theology is the Rite of Ambrosia. It’s a ritualized form of cannibalism in which a victim is eaten alive over the course of several months.” Guppy shivered. “Sounds awful.” “It is. The deacons receive their orders through dreams from Nyarlathotep. But now something new is going down. The Black Brotherhood is challenging the New Moon’s power. I think a war’s about to start, and the opening volley was the death of Robert Jacobs. The Fate isn’t going to let that go. It’s all in my book, Yuggoth Creatures.” He threw a manuscript on the coffee table. The subtitle read, “Being an Account of the Discoveries of Fabulous and Terrible Truths Concerning Our World.” Archive stared into his tea. “Randy, if this is true…if you’re writing a tell-all book, you might anger a lot of people.” Randy smirked. “I served in ‘Nam, man. I can take care of myself.” Archive nodded. “My…associates are good at protecting people. Do you mind if we take a look around, just in case?” “Sure,” said Randy. “Scott! Scott, come down here!” Scott, a pimply-faced teen, sauntered into the room. “Yes?” he sighed. “Take mister…” “Hammer.” “Hammer for a tour, please.” Scott grumbled, but he was intimidated by the size of the man before him. “Come on.” Everyone watched Hammer go. Their gaze turned back to Guppy, whose back was facing the glass panels of the sunroom. “I saw something on the way here,” said Guppy nervously. “It was huge. With glowing red eyes.” The team, including Randy, was staring past him out the window. “What?” asked Guppy. “Is there something on my face?” Looming behind him was the shadowy figure, bent down to view the top of Guppy’s head as if it were a child bending down to look at an ant. [/QUOTE]
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