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Story Hour
Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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<blockquote data-quote="talien" data-source="post: 5578784" data-attributes="member: 3285"><p><strong>Flesh for Eihort: Part 2 – The House on Coleford Road</strong></p><p></p><p>I'm now a whopping ten story hours behind! This is separate from writing/posting them, but I'm working hard to get it all written. If I were to post every day it could take over a month to catch up to "real" time. Work's kept me busy...</p><p></p><p>But anyway, as always RT, you keep reminding me to update. So here you go!</p><p></p><p>===============</p><p></p><p>37 Coleford Road was a Victorian terraced house in an area of Lower Brichester which escaped redevelopment in the 1960s. </p><p></p><p>Hammer went in alone, the welcome feel of a silenced Glock once more in his palm. It felt good to be back in action with the tools he knew best.</p><p></p><p>He padded up to one of the windows. Chubb was inside, probably panicking over how the man he killed could possibly show up at his doorstep days later. Which was precisely the intended effect of Jim-Bean's makeup. </p><p></p><p>The window looked into the kitchen. It was in a state of complete chaos with dirty utensils and crockery scattered all over the place. Signs of a disordered mind.</p><p></p><p>Chubb popped up from behind a counter and their eyes locked. Then he bolted out of the room.</p><p></p><p>Hammer swore at his bad luck and kicked open the back door. He reflexively reached for his cistron but then remembered he didn't have one. There was no easy way to call for backup and Chubb was getting away.</p><p></p><p>Hammer plunged into the filthy, darkened dining room. Chubb dove down steps in one corner that spiraled into a cellar. </p><p></p><p>Hammer squeezed off two shots. He tagged Chubb into the shoulder, but it didn't slow him. </p><p></p><p>"Don't you understand?" shouted Chubb from the darkness below. "The spider makes me do this. I don't want to hurt you!"</p><p></p><p>Hammer pursued. He clambered down the metal steps when someone grabbed him by the ankles and yanked. The world spun as Hammer hit the steps hard. </p><p></p><p>"The cult makes me do this! I was only killing vagrants until I met The Lord of the Primal Labyrinth!"</p><p></p><p>Something plunged into his thigh. Hanging upside down, one foot wedged in the stairs, he managed to tag Chubb again in the leg as he fled into the cellar's dark womb.</p><p></p><p>Then it was over and Chubb was gone. His vision swimming, Hammer painfully twisted his foot out of the steps' metal grip and limped his way to the front room of Chubb's flat. With poison coursing through his veins, every second counted. </p><p></p><p>Hammer's leg gave out on the way to the fridge. But it wasn't his leg giving out; the nerves simply weren't reacting. It was like a dead man's limb had been sewn onto his hip.</p><p></p><p>Hammer managed to claw at the fridge handle and tore it open. Something dripping and wet rolled out to face him, glaring with accusing eyes at his failure. The head of one of Chubb's victims.</p><p></p><p>He wasn't going to make it. Hammer made his way to the door and, after fumbling with the chain lock, shoved it open. He gave the signal, hoping Archive would get to him in time.</p><p></p><p>Archive and Jim-Bean moved immediately. Archive laid Hammer out on the sofa, ignoring the dark stain on it. He worked feverishly to stop the poison from spreading with a special enchantment for just such a purpose.</p><p></p><p>"He'll be fine," he said after a moment. Hammer's breathing steadied.</p><p></p><p>Hammer stirred feebly. "Evidence," he coughed. </p><p></p><p>"Right," said Archive. He went into the study, a converted bedroom lined with shelves full of sci-fi and horror paperbacks. There was also a high quality digital camera with timer device and desktop PC. Archive plugged in a smart drive with a hacker code Guppy had given him. In less than a minute it figured out the password: Chubb's middle name, Thomas. </p><p></p><p>Then the parade of horrors began. The PC’s hard drive was chock full of pictures of Chubb’s victims taken with a digital camera. All of the subjects were dead and had horrific head injuries. They were posed in normal attitudes, sitting propped up in armchairs or at the dining room table. Some had glasses or cutlery placed in their hands as if they were having a drink or eating a meal. Chubb appeared in a number of the pictures smiling broadly, obviously enjoying the corpse’s company. It was an obscene parody of someone entertaining a particularly welcome guest. </p><p></p><p>"There's more than enough evidence on his computer," said Archive. "This guy was a real sick bastard."</p><p></p><p>"Good," said Hammer, coughing. "Send them to Cornwell. And then set them for an hour later to send to the police."</p><p></p><p>"You're sure?"</p><p></p><p>"Yeah." Hammer suddenly sat bolt upright. "Where's Jimmy?"</p><p></p><p>"He went down into the cellar. Why?"</p><p></p><p>"Chubb may still be in the house!"</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="talien, post: 5578784, member: 3285"] [b]Flesh for Eihort: Part 2 – The House on Coleford Road[/b] I'm now a whopping ten story hours behind! This is separate from writing/posting them, but I'm working hard to get it all written. If I were to post every day it could take over a month to catch up to "real" time. Work's kept me busy... But anyway, as always RT, you keep reminding me to update. So here you go! =============== 37 Coleford Road was a Victorian terraced house in an area of Lower Brichester which escaped redevelopment in the 1960s. Hammer went in alone, the welcome feel of a silenced Glock once more in his palm. It felt good to be back in action with the tools he knew best. He padded up to one of the windows. Chubb was inside, probably panicking over how the man he killed could possibly show up at his doorstep days later. Which was precisely the intended effect of Jim-Bean's makeup. The window looked into the kitchen. It was in a state of complete chaos with dirty utensils and crockery scattered all over the place. Signs of a disordered mind. Chubb popped up from behind a counter and their eyes locked. Then he bolted out of the room. Hammer swore at his bad luck and kicked open the back door. He reflexively reached for his cistron but then remembered he didn't have one. There was no easy way to call for backup and Chubb was getting away. Hammer plunged into the filthy, darkened dining room. Chubb dove down steps in one corner that spiraled into a cellar. Hammer squeezed off two shots. He tagged Chubb into the shoulder, but it didn't slow him. "Don't you understand?" shouted Chubb from the darkness below. "The spider makes me do this. I don't want to hurt you!" Hammer pursued. He clambered down the metal steps when someone grabbed him by the ankles and yanked. The world spun as Hammer hit the steps hard. "The cult makes me do this! I was only killing vagrants until I met The Lord of the Primal Labyrinth!" Something plunged into his thigh. Hanging upside down, one foot wedged in the stairs, he managed to tag Chubb again in the leg as he fled into the cellar's dark womb. Then it was over and Chubb was gone. His vision swimming, Hammer painfully twisted his foot out of the steps' metal grip and limped his way to the front room of Chubb's flat. With poison coursing through his veins, every second counted. Hammer's leg gave out on the way to the fridge. But it wasn't his leg giving out; the nerves simply weren't reacting. It was like a dead man's limb had been sewn onto his hip. Hammer managed to claw at the fridge handle and tore it open. Something dripping and wet rolled out to face him, glaring with accusing eyes at his failure. The head of one of Chubb's victims. He wasn't going to make it. Hammer made his way to the door and, after fumbling with the chain lock, shoved it open. He gave the signal, hoping Archive would get to him in time. Archive and Jim-Bean moved immediately. Archive laid Hammer out on the sofa, ignoring the dark stain on it. He worked feverishly to stop the poison from spreading with a special enchantment for just such a purpose. "He'll be fine," he said after a moment. Hammer's breathing steadied. Hammer stirred feebly. "Evidence," he coughed. "Right," said Archive. He went into the study, a converted bedroom lined with shelves full of sci-fi and horror paperbacks. There was also a high quality digital camera with timer device and desktop PC. Archive plugged in a smart drive with a hacker code Guppy had given him. In less than a minute it figured out the password: Chubb's middle name, Thomas. Then the parade of horrors began. The PC’s hard drive was chock full of pictures of Chubb’s victims taken with a digital camera. All of the subjects were dead and had horrific head injuries. They were posed in normal attitudes, sitting propped up in armchairs or at the dining room table. Some had glasses or cutlery placed in their hands as if they were having a drink or eating a meal. Chubb appeared in a number of the pictures smiling broadly, obviously enjoying the corpse’s company. It was an obscene parody of someone entertaining a particularly welcome guest. "There's more than enough evidence on his computer," said Archive. "This guy was a real sick bastard." "Good," said Hammer, coughing. "Send them to Cornwell. And then set them for an hour later to send to the police." "You're sure?" "Yeah." Hammer suddenly sat bolt upright. "Where's Jimmy?" "He went down into the cellar. Why?" "Chubb may still be in the house!" [/QUOTE]
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Modern/Delta Green - The Beginning of the End (COMPLETED)
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