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

[talien]

Gothic: Prologue

Ask and ye shall receive!

Good luck on your exams. Not sure if this will motivate you. It involves...well, you'll see.

====================

And the Devil in a black dress watches over me,
My guardian angel walks away.
Life is short and love is always over in the morning.
Black winds come carry me far away.​

--Temple of Love by The Sisters of Mercy

​

​

BRICHESTER, ENGLAND—Jim-Bean looked at the black sphere sitting on the dining room table. "Why didn't you tell us about this before?"

Archive was rifling through a satchel of esoteric items. I don't like spheres," he said. "This is all from Unit 23. I kept those items in case we could use them. I think that's a scrying ball." He broke out in a sweat just looking at it. "But keep it away from me."

Jim-Bean looked sideways at Archive. "Oookay." He placed fingertips on it, closed his eyes, and concentrated. "Yep, it's a scrying ball. Wow."

"Great," said Hammer. "Can you find this kid?" He tossed the file for OPERATION GOTHIC on the table.

Jim-Bean put one hand on the file and the other hand on the orb.

"Anything?" asked Guppy.

"It takes a minute," said Jim-Bean out of the corner of his mouth. "I'm in the kid's bedroom. Wait a minute…here we go. Something in the laundry basket. A black shirt…with tickets in the pocket. One for Heaven and the other for Darklands."

"Heaven is a club in Lower Brichester," said Hammer. "Let's go."

Guppy hoisted a case onto the table.

"What's that?" asked Archive.

"Something special I cooked up to deal with vampires," said Guppy with a grin.

Hammer look askance at the bulky container. "That'll never make it past the bouncers."

"Leave that to me," said Jim-Bean.

 

[talien]

Gothic: Part 1 – Heaven

Housed in the upper floor of an old but exclusive hotel, the Camden Place, Heaven presented an impassive front to Brichester and the rest of the outside world. A muscular, unsmiling bouncer stood beside the doors.

Jim-Bean smiled and nodded at the bouncer. "We're going to go right in if that's okay with you." It wasn't a question.

The bouncer nodded back like they were best friends. The rest of the team filtered in behind him.

Beyond the front door was a flight of massive steps covered with rich red velvet-like carpet. Gleaming, smoky, marbled mirrors covered the walls and ceiling of the ascending entryway, while sparkling chandeliers lavishly illuminated the passage. At the top of the stairs a slim, handsome youth waited to take the three pounds it cost to get into Heaven. The doorman wore black tuxedo pants and shoes and was shirtless--a black bow tie and tuxedo coat with tails covered his otherwise bare torso.

Guppy blinked. "What kind of club is this?"

"That kind of club," said Hammer. Jim-Bean muttered something inaudible to the doorman and once again they were let in.

Beyond the doors was a cacophony of sound, color, and light. Lasers and lights flashed through the hot, smoky air, and the music was so loud that it thundered in their chests. Dancers swayed and twisted their bodies across the dance floor: willowy young men with silky hair; slim nymphs caressed their partners’ limbs; women whose hair, cut mercilessly short, bristled; tanned men with the muscular builds of sporting heroes. Around the sides of the room, leaning against the walls or secluded in the private shadows of booths, sat and stood spectators--the drinkers, the lovers, the observers.

Hammer had to shout above the thunderous beat of the music to have any sort of a conversation with the bartender. Short and stocky, Sue Oates was a friendly, outgoing woman with short-cropped blond hair, and a dragon tattoo on her left arm.

"We're looking for this kid." Hammer flashed a picture from OPERATION GOTHIC.

"I remember him," said Oates. "He was a nice, quiet kid who spent most of his time out or three times a week. Friendly, but he didn’t seem to have any friends at the club."

"So you spoke with him?"

"Several times. I got the impression that he was terrified that his family would discover he was gay. I think he lost his best friend because he came out to him."

"When was the last time you saw him?"

"About a month ago. He met up with another Goth, don't know his real name, but I nicknamed him Skunk."

"What did this other guy look like?" asked Hammer.

"Kid in his late teens with black hair, white face with black lipstick and eye shadow. He dressed completely in black. I call him Skunk because of the white streak in his hair."

"That sounds like every other clubber in this place," muttered Jim-Bean.

"Do you know anything about Darklands?" asked Hammer.

"Sure. It's a Goth club." She gave Hammer directions. "Hope the kid's not in trouble."

Archive said something threatening but it couldn't be heard over the din of the club. Hammer paid twice the tab for the drink he never touched – he had learned to be cautious after an incident in a similar club in the States – and they left in pursuit of their prey.

 

[talien]

Gothic: Part 2 – Darklands

Darklands was located at 1805 E. 54th Street near Sage. The neighborhoods around Darklands were composed of dark store fronts with broken windows, burned out buildings, vacant lots overgrown with weeds and overcome by trash, and graffiti-encrusted tenements. A few cold eyes stared out from behind the cracked and boarded up windows. The pungent bodies of drunks lay sprawled across the filthy pavement. Rats darted in and out of piles of rubble.

The club was a warehouse about half of a city block that was painted a dull black. The front door of the club had a black velvet rope and a lighted sign that read, “Darklands”. Two bouncers guarded the door. One had a clipboard and the other checked IDs. There was a black velvet rope to keep the line to get inside organized.

Jim-Bean approached with a case.

"Uh, what do you think you're doing?" asked the first bouncer.

Jim-Bean nodded at the other bouncer. "I'm friends with him."

"It's cool," said the bouncer mechanically. "I know him."

The first bouncer looked surprised. "Well you can't go in there without your kit being searched."

Jim-Bean shrugged and flipped open the lid. A variety of vicious looking sex toys glistened in the neon lights.

"Wow," said the first bouncer.

"Yeah, we're performers," said Jim-Bean with a grin.

Guppy chimed in. "Yes. Performers!" He hadn't understood Jim-Bean's plan to get in until that moment. When he looked down at the toys, Guppy was a little less enthusiastic. "Oh…" he whispered.

The bouncer rolled his eyes. "Okay, go on in."

Beyond the front door and the diligent bouncers was a pair of heavy, iron-bound doors in a small, dark, black velvet-curtained foyer. Behind the heavy oak doors was Darklands.

The theater boxes had long ago been bricked over, and had recently been painted black, as had the floor and ceiling. The black walls were broken only occasionally by mirrors and remnants of dusty red velvet drapes. The yellowed, towering movie screen had been returned to its place over the stage at the back of the building, and flickered noiselessly with ancient black and white horror movies. A heavy hook and a length of dusty chain in the ceiling above was all that remained of the once glorious chandelier; a few rows of antique theater seats faced the dance floor, their once-rich upholstery faded and tom. Harsh, flickering white lights illuminated the club in grainy monochrome, gave the place the look of an old silent movie. Dry ice and smoke mingled to form thick, pungent clouds that rolled and curled in the cloying atmosphere, rising to the far-off ceiling and hanging like a shroud above the patrons. Haunting music wailed and screamed above the constant susurration of the crowd; ghostly figures weaved a slow and macabre pattern across the crowded dance floor.

"See them?" asked Hammer.

"They're going to blend in a place like this," said Guppy.

Darklands was a sea of pale flesh and black clothes: women in black wedding dresses, lace and gauze artfully ripped to reveal skin like alabaster; young men with pouting lips of charcoal, swathed in silk and velvet, their hair crow’s-nests of spikes and cobwebs. Youths in long black coats, black fingernails and wildly-teased hair moved zombie-like to the haunting sounds of the music, and androgynous patrons in mesh and lace posed against stark walls, malevolently majestic in their ebon finery, crosses and other religious symbols dangling from ears, wrists, necks, and clothes.

"Man I hate this Gothic $#!+," muttered Jim-Bean. They wended their way towards a booth.

Lights flashed and the music blared. The disc jockey was located on an elevated platform on the left side of the room. There was one set of stairs leading to his booth and a bouncer hovered in that area. There was also a second door that led to another part of the club. The door said, “Employees Only”. Up ahead and to the right was a small tattoo and body modification center run by two employees. The crowded bar was at one end of the room, lit with the deathly ultra-violet glow of black light.

They slipped into the open booth. Jim-Bean drew the scrying ball from the case with a flourish. Archive's peculiar mumbo-jumbo was right at home here; there were two others just like it on tables.

"Well?" asked Hammer impatiently.

"I think…" Jim-Bean put his fingertips on the ball. "It's hard to concentrate with all the noise."

"Wait," said Guppy. "I think I see them." He pointed at the shiny surface of the sphere.

Jim-Bean opened his eyes. "You can see them too?"

"Yes," said Guppy, pointing at the dance floor reflected in the sphere. He looked back at two men in the center, then back at the sphere. "They're not casting a reflection."

 

[talien]

Gothic: Part 3 – Vamps

The pair arrived at the club around midnight; both dressed almost identically in tight-fitting velvet trousers, calf-length boots adorned with zippers, buckles, and straps, ruffled silk shirts trimmed in lace, velvet waistcoats, and floor-length velvet cloaks-all of pure, rich black. Likewise, both sported shoulder-length black hair teased out around their pale faces: Christopher’s hair had a long white streak dyed in it, from his forehead to the nape of his neck. The lovers’ eyes and lips were decorated with black makeup, making their faces appear even more porcelain-like.

The pair frequently ventured out onto the dance floor, each having an occasional tryst with other patrons, both male and female. Ferguson and Leigh danced very closely to these other patrons, frequently burying their faces into their partners’ necks for a lingering kiss, or inviting them back to the darkness of a booth. After a few moments the pair abandoned their partners, retiring together to a booth until the next slow dance where they choose new companions. Immersed in their surroundings, and their love for one another, they were unaware of any scrutiny.

Archive smoothed out his black overcoat, cracked his knuckles, and slipped out of the booth. "Pardon me gentlemen, I believe I have work to do."

Archive stood before the pair on the dance floor and presented his Elder Sign. The lovers stood hand in hand.

The pair turned to face Archive. "Nadasdy sold us out," said Sebastian. "He must have, if you're here."

Christopher nodded. "He's gone mad. We always suspected it, but now we have proof…"

"The Power of the Elder Sign compels you!" The eye at the center of the leather pentagram lensed open. A bright red beam played over the pair. They immediately burst into flame.

As they began to burn, they shared one last kiss, desperate against the flames. They held one another close in a final, passionate embrace. Even as they burst into an inferno, they were still together. The lovers were consumed by flame, but also by fear and hatred. As they turned to ash, a brief gap in the fiery swirl showed their blackened skeletons still embraced. Then the shapes collapse to smoldering cinders.

The crowd, momentarily shocked into silence, watched in confusion. They were still trying to decide if it was an elaborate stunt. Some were too high to tell the difference.

A cloud of noxious smoke billowed about the chamber.

"Well that was easy," said Jim-Bean, dusting his hands. He hoisted up the box full of sex toys. "Looks like we won't need th—"

"YOU!" bellowed a deep timber with an upper class British accent.

A tall man, stooped and misshapen with death-white flesh, long gray hair, bulging eyes, and a mouth full of sharp canine-like teeth strode across the dance floor. His black clothes were Victorian in style, including a long, black Inverness coat and a high, narrow-brimmed beaver hat. The crowd parted, the music stopped.

"Who the hell is that?" asked Hammer.

"Count Nadasdy," whispered one of the patrons. "The owner of the club. Nobody ever sees him!"

Archive frowned and held up the Elder Sign once more. "He's another torch for all I care. By the power of the Elder Sign I repel—"

The eye at the center of the pentagram opened and a blast of flames speared from it. Nadasdy held up one hand and the flames deflected off his palm. Smoke curled from it as he closed his palm into a fist. The fire went out.

Nadasdy pointed at Archive and a sphere engulfed him. Archive instantly panicked, pounding at the barrier before curling up into a fetal position. His phobia of spheres overwhelmed him.

"You invade my CLUB!" snarled Nadasdy, striding closer.

Jim-Bean sighed. "Vampires." He snapped the case open, spilling sex toys in all directions. Lightning fast, he tossed the weapons hidden in the compartment beneath them: pistols to Hammer, a shotgun to Guppy.

"You destroy my MINIONS!" snarled Nadasdy.

Nadasdy pointed at Archive and he dropped the Elder Sign, hissing, as his hand smoldered.

"I know how to deal with vampires." Guppy took aim with the specially modified shotgun and fired. A rocket-propelled stake whistled through the air…

Nadasdy caught it in one fist. He was knocked back several feet from the impact, his boots squealing as he dug into the dance floor to maintain his balance. After inspecting it for a moment with a sneer, he tossed the stake aside.

Bouncers from all over the club pushed their way through the crowd, pistols at the ready.

"But worst of all…you're AMERICANS!"

Nadasdy thrust both palms towards them and a small pea of flame screamed towards them.

Flames engulfed the club, incinerating bystanders and the dance floor. The scorched floor formed an unbroken circle around the agents – Jim-Bean held one hand outstretched.

Cracking his neck, Jim-Bean fixed his gaze on Nadasdy. "Gloves are off, huh? Fine." He concentrated.

Hammer fired four bursts in quick succession. The bouncers collapsed in unison, bullet holes in their foreheads.

"Not bad," he said to the two Berettas he'd taken off of the guards at the military base. They weren't his Glocks but they would have to do.

The few surviving patrons screamed, clawing at the doors and walls. Pillars began to collapse. Tapestries, blazing hellfire fell onto the crowd.

The lighting equipment above began to shudder.

"Uh, Jim-Bean," said Guppy, doing some quick calculations in his head. "I'm not sure that's such a—"

The massive lighting rig ripped from its moorings with a series of snaps, smashing down on top of Nadasdy. The floor, already weakened from Nadasdy's magic, collapsed along a tunnel beneath the club.

The one piece of unburned floor that was around the agents slid down into the tunnel. It stretched beyond into darkness, partially lit by the flames above. Of Nadasdy there was no sign.

"Go!" shouted Hammer. "GO!"

A second later the rest of the Darklands collapsed above them.

 

[talien]

Gothic: Part 4 – Blood for the Blood God! Kill! Kill! Kill!

When the dust finally cleared, Archive was still trapped in the sphere of force. The sphere went right through the floor where Archive stood. The section of floor protected by the sphere from the flames was what slid down into the tunnel intact.

Guppy flicked on a small penlight that he always carried with him. He played it across the rubble above them. "That sphere is the only thing keeping us from being crushed to death."

Archive was still curled up in a ball, rocking back and forth in the sphere, seemingly oblivious to his predicament.

"That sphere's not going to last forever," said Jim-Bean. "At least, I hope not."

"When it goes, we're going to have to move fast," said Hammer.

Guppy squinted. "Did it just flicker?"

In the darkness the sphere was barely luminescent.

Then the sphere winked out.

Jim-Bean pointed, and the wreckage groaned under the weight of the debris of tons of rock.

Hammer and Guppy dragged Archive out of the way just as the debris collapsed. More of the burnt out club slid down into the tunnel, choking the air with soot.

Hammer pointed. "Only one way forward."

The tunnel was a dark sewer-like passage that was paved and much older than the surrounding stone.

Guppy helped Archive to his feet. "You okay?"

"Yeah," said Archive, shaking his head to clear the cobwebs. "What happened?"

"You wigged out inside a sphere," said Jim-Bean. "Happens to everybody."

"Not everybody," muttered Hammer. He picked his way forward through the rubble. Much of it had collapsed around the tunnel, but it was a sturdy enough structure to resist collapsing completely.

The tunnel twisted and turned for what seemed like hours. It terminated in a ramp upward, a hole in the bottom of a much larger cavern.

They climbed up into the larger opening, relieved to stretch their legs. The air was thick with a musty, reptilian odor.

Two ten-foot-tall standing stones, capped by equally large blocks, stood in the center of the ancient cavern. The megalith stood at the head of a slab of dark stone. A metal cube sat at its center, covered in primitive glyphs. Standing opposite the megalith across the stone table was a primitively carved humanoid statue with no face.

Their flashlights played over the statue. The twelve-foot tall humanoid statue was carved of purplish stone, but its hands were black as pitch. Weathered remnants of horns and vestigial limbs were party visible.

Guppy squinted. "Its face looks like…" he frowned. In place of a face was a primitive pictogram that was stained, as if in the past it leaked some reddish fluid. "…like it's bleeding."

"Don't touch the statue," growled Jim-Bean. "Nothing good comes from statues. I'm going to try to find an entrance." He wandered off into the darkness.

Hammer sniffed the air. "Jim-Bean, toss me your lighter."

"Taking up smoking?" came Jim-Bean's voice from the darkness. A glint of metal tumbled through the air. Hammer caught it. He clicked it on.

The small flame flickered. "That's what I thought," said Hammer. "Fresh air, this way."

Archive bent near the altar, shining his flashlight on it. "It reads: Spill your life to the Blood God. The Blood God repays total sacrifice."

"That doesn't sound good," said Guppy.

The rustle of stone behind him was his only warning. Guppy was catapulted out of sight of Archive's beam.

"What the—" was all Archive got out before a black hand nearly pulverized his head. He dove into the darkness.

Guppy, coughing and wheezing from the impact, staggered to his feet. "He told you not to touch it!"

"I didn't!" Archive shouted back. His flashlight clattered across the stone slab. The thing was alarmingly fast and quiet for its bulk. The flashlight's beam spun as it rolled, illuminating the thing as it crouched. Red fluid bubbled from its face, squirting in a stream at Guppy. In the darkness it sounded like someone vomiting.

"Hey guys, there's a tunnel up here," reported Hammer, oblivious to the commotion on the far side of the cavern.

Archive huffed to catch up to Guppy, who was running for his life towards Hammer's flickering lighter.

"What?" asked Hammer as they blew past him.

"Up!" shouted Archive. It was a very tight fit. He clambered up the tunnel.

Hammer had his pistols out and squeezed off two shots at the advancing bulk in the shadows. It hesitated only for a second, the bullets sparking in the darkness as they hit stone.

Hammer holstered his pistols and climbed into the tunnel. "Come on Guppy!"

Guppy froze at the entrance to the tunnel and began wailing, eyes wide. "The Blood God!" he shrieked. "The Blood God is going to—"

Before he could finish a hand reached down and grabbed him by his collar. He was yanked up and out of sight.

 

[talien]

Gothic: Part 5 – It's a Trap!

Jim-Bean managed to pry open the wall of the tunnel into a ten-foot square hollow. It contained a rectangular slab of marble and a rag-draped skeleton.

Guppy stumbled in, dragged by Jim-Bean, eyes wide. He was hyperventilating. Their companions came in shortly thereafter.

Guppy tore the rags off the skeleton, hurling bones everywhere. "Just in case it animates," he said with a few more gasps.

"You need to calm down," said Hammer.

"I'm calm," Guppy wiped sweat and dust off his brow. "I'm calm. I'm okay."

"Good," Hammer shoved hard against the stone door blocking the exit. It didn't budge. "Now help me with this slab." Guppy and Archive helped him open the door.

Jim-Bean shouldered past them. "Come on, Nadasdy's this way."

"How do you know?" asked Guppy.

Jim-Bean tapped his temple and smirked at him.

"Oh, right."

They passed several more tombs to stop at another stone door.

"This one," said Jim-Bean. "It's not a tomb."

Hammer and Archive heaved the door open.

Inside was a tunnel. Fog flowed like a river, covering the floor. The tunnel's damp walls were rough and scored.

Jim-Bean plunged ahead, heedless of the mist. "Mind the left side," he said, pointing downward. "It opens into a chute."

"Uh…thanks," said Hammer. They followed closely behind Jim-Bean in a line after that.

The tunnel ended at a set of rough stone stairs. Jim-Bean froze and the others stopped immediately behind him.

"What?" asked Hammer. "What is it?"

Jim-Bean blinked. "It's what's behind that door."

"What?" asked Guppy, panicking. "Another statue? The Blood God?"

"Worse," said Jim-Bean. "It's a woman."

 

[talien]

Gothic: Part 6 – Speaking in Tongues

A great vat squatted in the center of the chamber, filled with roiling pale mucus. From their alcoves to either side, bloated giants stood pulsing and heaving. The towering bloated giants looked as if their skin was about to burst. Thick veins forked across the giants' flesh, and their bodies pulsed and shifted as if a great quantity of fluids strained beneath their skin.

Before Jim-Bean sauntered into the room they had argued at length as to what to do. Killing her was always an option. But in the end they argued for a more subtle approach. In a world gone mad, being human went a long way, and near as they could tell the woman was human.

Besides, if things went south, there was always the passphrase: "Bloody hell!"

Two walls of the chamber were lined with tome-stuffed shelves, and a stained desk was shoved into the southwest corner. Behind the vat, a slender figure in pale leather armor and hood yelled in consternation.

Jim-Bean sauntered into the room. "You can stop yelling, I'm here now."

The slender figure named Thredra narrowed her eyes. "Interesting. You are powerful indeed," she said appraisingly. "No magic at work. And yet you spoke in my mind…"

"I told you I was quite powerful." Using his clairvoyance, Jim-Bean was able to scout ahead. It was a simple matter to telepathically contact the necromancer, who was thankfully a living being.

"Who are you, stranger? What's your name?"

"Andy," said Jim-Bean. "Andy Cook." He didn't like the kid.

"My name's Thredra. Thredra Aranax."

"Interesting name," said Jim-Bean.

"I'm quite interesting, as you can see." She gestured at herself and Jim-Bean, even before he entered the room, knew what she meant. Thredra wore an impractical bustier of pale leather, baring her midriff. A hooded cloak framed her pinched features. Skulls dangled from a belt that hung loosely around her waist.

"About Nadasdy…" he reminded her.

"Ah yes, Count Nadasdy." She sighed, pacing. "He's been sending spies after me ever since the Nightmare Wave."

"Nightmare Wave?" snorted Jim-Bean. He thought the name was ridiculous.

"Yes," said Thredra. "He has grown increasingly depraved and is now utterly lost to madness. I believe that's what precipitated his attack on you at the Darklands Club. He would never be so careless – he'll bring all of PISCES down on our heads!"

"So…" Jim-Bean tried to ignore the heaving giants. "How exactly did you fit those big guys in here?"

Thredra frowned. "They started out smaller, but as they fed on blood they got bigger and bigger and, well…" she made a little noise of frustration, "now they can't leave this room. Poor planning on my part, I admit."

"Right. Okay. So anyway, I wanted to discuss a change in the hierarchy around here."

Thredra looked him up and down. "What are you suggesting?"

"Only that if Nadasdy were to…step down…there will be a power vacuum. Someone will need to take his place."

Thredra raised one delicately plucked eyebrow. "And who might that be?"

Jim-Bean shrugged. "Got something to drink?"

The necromancer made a decision. "Yes. Yes I could use a drink. This way." She beckoned Jim-Bean into a room behind her. Without hesitating he followed her in.

It was just about what he expected of a muttering scantily-clad necromanceress in the dungeon of a vampire. Two large thrones on the balcony overlooked a flooded chamber filled with torture equipment. She gestured and the muck responded.

A humanoid, covered in the thick film of the torture chamber slime, slid upwards, reaching. Jim-Bean thought he could make out two forms, one hunched and legless clawing over the other. They reached into a compartment beneath the balcony. A tray slid out, with two glasses and a bottle. Like demented acrobats in a circus of rot and filth, the two bodies served wine – waiters at the fanciest restaurant in the crypt.

Thredra uncorked the bottle, poured them both a glass, and handed one to Jim-Bean before reclining on the throne. Jim-Bean did the same on the throne opposite hers.

"I've long served Nadasdy," she said after sipping the blood-red wine. For all Jim-Bean knew it was blood. "Who wouldn't bow down to such a black-hearted power? But lately…Nadasdy hasn't been himself."

"And you're wondering what to do about it." Jim-Bean gave the drink a taste. It actually wasn't bad.

"I question tying myself to someone who's grip on sanity slowly crumbles."

"So his behavior at Club Darklands wasn't the first incident?"

Thredra shook her head. "Nadasdy's growing insanity manifests itself in many ways. Most obviously, he's started sending his servants secretly against me, disguising them as Brichester villagers." Her face twisted in rage. It wasn't a pretty sight. "He's forgotten all I've done for him…and what I could accomplish against him, should I decide to act."

Jim-Bean almost smiled. His telepathic conversation with her was dead on target. For every fanatically loyal underling, there was another waiting to stab her boss in the back. A little necromancy didn't change things one bit.

"What if Nadasdy were to be eliminated?"

She shrugged her bony shoulders. "I want things back the way they were. The old way. When there were rules, and people respected them. Now, he seems to be under the sway of other forces…"

"Inconnu," finished Jim-Bean.

Thredra failed to hide her surprise at his familiarity with the term. "Whatever they are, it's disrupting everything. Their grip on Nadasdy is ruining the empire he built – the empire I helped him build. I want that back."

"Then I believe we can help each other," said Jim-Bean.

"I can give you specific aid," said Thredra. "I can't act myself, of course. If the hierarchy were to know of my involvement—"

"I didn't get this far without being discrete," said Jim-Bean curtly.

She got the message. Thredra pulled a ring made of bone off her finger and held it up in the dim torchlight. Inscribed on the interior of the band were some evil-looking runes. The exterior of the band was carved to resemble a swarm of humanoid skeletons interlocked in a circle.

"This is a Ring of Parting Prevented. It will protect you from Nadasdy's life-draining touch. But I will share this ring with you on one condition."

Jim-Bean waited.

"You will repay me with a tongue."

Jim-Bean nearly spit out his drink.

Thredra's lips curled into a slow smile. "Bring me the tongue of a living man or woman. The man or woman must be alive when you render their tongue unto me."

Jim-Bean snapped his wrist and a knife was at the ready. "I could give you mine right here." He lifted it to his lips and opened his mouth.

Thredra held up a hand. "You've such a talent. I'd hate for you to ruin a natural gift – but you must be powerful indeed if you can survive its removal..."

Jim-Bean snapped his mouth shut. "You have no idea."

She leaned forward, putting one delicate hand on his forearm. "I like you, Andy. So I'll throw in the whereabouts of a certain saint's thighbone that will be useful against Nadasdy. Just get me that tongue."

"What do you need it for anyway?"

Thredra smiled and this time Jim-Bean felt a chill. "It has certain necromantic requirements that cannot be set aside."

"We'll get you one."

She flipped him the ring. Jim-Bean caught it in mid-air.

"We?"

"I have…associates."

Thredra took this in stride. "Your acceptance of this ring is your unbreakable pledge to bring me what I requested. If not, you forfeit your own tongue." She grinned. "I'm sure I can find a use for it."

Jim-Bean slipped the ring into his pocket. "And the saint?"

"You passed through the catacombs to get here. Go back through the tunnel, directly past four crypts to a crypt set into the east wall. The name once inscribed there is clawed away. Inside, you'll find Saint Markovia's thighbone. It is a relic of some power that is useful against Nadasdy."

Jim-Bean got up. "Thanks." He patted Thredra's arm. "We'll continue this discussion once we've eliminated Nadasdy—"

Before he could remove his hand, she clasped her own bony claw over it. Thredra's eyes met his. "Don't forget the tongue."

Jim-Bean lost all saliva in his mouth, but he managed to keep his cool and nod.

 

[talien]

Gothic: Part 7 – Boned

Archive squinted at the stone door, playing his flashlight over it. "Saint Markovia; Great Was Her Might; Undone By a Jealous Hand."

"Sounds friendly," said Guppy. He was sweating. "So where are we going to get this tongue?"

Jim-Bean shot him a glance. "Relax. We'll find a tongue."

"From a living person though right?" asked Guppy. "A living person?"

"Yeah," said Jim-Bean. "That's what Thredra wants."

"You on a first name basis now?" asked Guppy, voice rising.

"Be cool, Guppy," warned Hammer. Their last conflict over Guppy's tenuous grip on sanity had landed the Indian agent in an Outlook facility.

"I'm just saying..." He wiped his forehead. "If you don't get the tongue, she might take it from one of us. And I'm not giving mine up without a fight."

"If she wants a tongue, she'll take mine," said Jim-Bean. He frowned. "Trust me, she wants mine more than yours."

"If you two are done chit-chatting..." interrupted Archive.

"Right," said Jim-Bean. He put his palms out before him. "Here we go."

He concentrated and the crypt door groaned obligingly to the side.

A fusillade of darts whined through the air. They froze inches from Jim-Bean and Hammer's face and then dropped to the ground. Then a loud gong rang out.

Corpses exploded out of the ground to either side of them. Before they could react, huge bony claws reached out from around the crypt door behind them.

Guppy spun, his makeshift stake gun at the ready. The arms of the thing behind them were so long that the rest of it was in the shadows of the crypt.

The air around Guppy whistled as a dust devil engulfed him, spinning up the dust and grime of the crypt.

"What the..." was all Guppy got out before he covered his eyes.

Hammer fired his Berettas, which weren't as good as his Glocks, at the whirlwind. The bullets tore glowing green paths through the air, setting off a series of shrieks that came from the wind itself. The bullets kept on going, pushing back the thing in the crypt.

"Stop shooting!" shouted Guppy through gritted teeth.

"Archive," said Jim-Bean, still focused on the door. "Take care of them."

Archive held up his amulet. "The power of the Elder Sign repels you!"

The eye at the center of the pentagram on Archive's amulet opened and its all-consuming gazed swept the room. The animated corpses to either side burst into bright flames. The whirlwind dissipated, dropping Guppy unceremoniously to the ground. The thing in the crypt pulled its arms back into the gaping darkness.

"Do I have to do everything myself?" muttered Jim-Bean. He pointed at the stone door to the saint's crypt and it flew over their heads.

The door smashed into the crypt behind them, sealing it once more.

The catacombs were silent.

"You couldn't stop that gong?" growled Hammer.

Jim-Bean ignored him as he scanned in the inside of the crypt. All that remained on the slab was a thighbone. He tossed it to Archive, who caught it.

"Hope it was worth it," said Hammer.

 

[talien]

Gothic: Part 8 – Dr. Knightsbridge, I Presume

The shadowy room they entered was in perfect order. An old cot stood to one side, its heavy blanket pulled taut and straight. Lances and swords were carefully hung on the spotless walls. A great desk stood against the south wall with inkwell, papers, and other items perfectly in place.

Sitting at the desk was a tall man in his late forties, with a neat beard and moustache, and black hair with distinguished gray streaks. He was dressed dapperly in a fine suit, and smoked a fine cherry wood pipe. There was an air of skepticism about him, as if he has heard it all. Incongruously, a sword was strapped to his back.

Hammer cocked his Beretta, the gun barrel pointed at the back of the man's head. "Don't move."

"Dr. Knightsbridge?" asked Jim-Bean in surprise.

The doctor put his hands up. "Jim?" He turned around. "Jim Baxter? What are you doing here?"

Hammer looked over his shoulder. "You know this man?"

Jim-Bean nodded. "From the States. Yes."

"So you're hunting Nadasdy too?"

"I think we need to catch up," said Jim-Bean. He sat down at the table in the center of the room. Hammer was polite enough to not point his gun directly at Knightsbridge's head but that was all the courtesy he gave the man. Guppy sat across the table from Knightsbridge, as did Archive.

"Enolsis came across Count Nadasdy only recently. He consists almost exclusively of body thetans, a creature of pure negative energy. He's rather ancient."

"Ancient?" asked Archive, skeptical.

"Yes. He was married to Elizabeth Bathory in 1575. He died in 1604. I believe his resurrection from the dead and subsequent blood-drinking habits caused Elizabeth to believe she could also cheat death if she drank and bathed in blood. When his wife was found out and imprisoned, Count Nadasdy fled Csejthe Castle. The countess’ accomplices confessed that Ferencz Nadasdy had returned to Csejthe Castle shortly after his burial."

"So that's when he became a vampire." Archive's interest was piqued.

Knightsbridge nodded. "Nadasdy was one of the living dead. The hunt for the Count was on, and he was forced to flee his native Hungary. He made his way across Europe, eventually settling here in the eighteenth century in the Severn River Valley. He established himself with the aid of Sir Gilbert Morley, who arranged for a safe dwelling for the fugitive Count and supplied him with sufficient victims to feast upon. In return, Nadasdy transformed Morley into a vampire. The count has dwelled in the area since."

"And you just happen to be here when we are," said Guppy suspiciously.

"I could say the same thing about you," said Knightsbridge. "I've set up a base of sorts to track the fiend to his lair."

"By yourself?" asked Jim-Bean. "How exactly do you plan on defeating him?"

Knightsbridge was indignant. "I have my own resources. And I'm not alone."

"No?" Hammer looked around. "Where are your companions?"

Knightsbridge took a puff on his pipe. "They will come at my call."

Sweat beaded on Guppy's brow. "I think he's lying. I think this is a trap."

"You think everything's a trap," said Jim-Bean. He turned back to Knightsbridge. "I'm not sure how you got into the U.K. PISCES watches everything."

"PISCES?" asked Knightsbridge innocently.

"The government agency responsible for dealing with the paranormal." Jim-Bean watched Knightsbridge closely. "They've been taken over by brain spiders – body-hopping things that can possess a man. PISCES is literally crawling with possessed agents."

Did he detect a flicker of emotion? Dismay? Or was it something else?

"Intriguing. I had thought the Shan had been confined…"

"Who?" asked Jim-Bean.

"He's lying," hissed Guppy. He was damp with perspiration, but everyone's eyes were on Knightsbridge.

Hammer shushed him.

"75 million years ago there was a Galactic Confederacy, which consisted of 26 stars and 76 planets including Shaggai, Xiclotl, Thuggon, L'gy'hx and Earth. The planets were overpopulated, with an average population of 178 billion. The Shan leaders were about to be deposed from power, so they devised a plot to eliminate the excess population from their dominions. With the assistance of psychiatrists, they summoned billions of these citizens together, paralyzed them and captured their souls. These souls were brainwashed and reinserted into the bodies we have now, but there was a civil war and the Shan leaders were imprisoned. It appears they have escaped."

"You've got to be kidding me," said Hammer.

Knightsbridge held up one hand. "Unbelievable, I know, but it's all true. But first and foremost we must deal with Nadasdy. I can help—"

"GIVE ME YOUR TONGUE!" shrieked Guppy.

Electricity crackled beneath the table as Guppy lunged with his stun gun at Knightsbridge.

Quick as a cat, Knightsbridge unsheathed the longsword at his back and leaped onto the table. "Fools! I told you I was not alone!"

The air boiled around them. Shadowy forms rose up out of the floor. Misshapen skeletons, gorilla-like demons, and a host of other horrors were suddenly in the room with them.

"Bloody hell," sighed Jim-Bean. He fished a tool out of his satchel.

Knightsbridge kicked Guppy backwards so he had more room to swing his sword. Guppy stumbled, bouncing off the wall behind him.

"By the power of the Elder Sign I repel thee!" shouted Archive.

Just as quickly as they had come, the demons disappeared with a flash.

Knightsbridge planted one foot on Guppy's chest. "PISCES is going to take you apart, piece by piece." He pointed his blade at Guppy's throat.

The retort of a pistol rocked Knightsbridge. He dropped his sword, falling to his knees. A bullet had pierced his cheek.

Hammer was about to holster his pistol when a shape appeared out of Knightsbridge's head, flapping above the ground on leathery wings. The thing which flew whirred towards Jim-Bean, wings slapping the air at incredible speed.

Huge lidless eyes stared in hate at Jim-Bean, the jointed tendrils seemed to twist from the head in cosmic rhythms. It had ten legs, covered with black shining tentacles and folded into the pallid underbody, with semi-circular ridged wings covered with triangular scales. Jim-Bean saw the three mouths of the thing move moistly and Jim-Bean knew he was facing a Shan. A brain spider.

Another shot from Hammer caused it to bank left. It flew upwards into the ceiling and out of sight.

"So he was actually possessed by a brain-spider?" said Hammer, uncertain as to what he had just witnessed.

"Which means PISCES is already here." Jim-Bean threw a multi-tool to Guppy.

"Was anything he told us true?" asked Archive.

"Who knows?" Hammer looked around the room. "Are you sure all those things are gone?"

Archive yanked an amulet off of Knightsbridge's neck. "This is a symbol of the Templars." It had two knights riding one horse.

Hammer hefted Knightsbridge's blade. "The same symbol is on the hilt of his sword."

Jim-Bean frowned. "So Enolsis has been infiltrated by the Templars, which were infiltrated by the brain spiders." He shook his head. "Damn bugs are everywhere."

Guppy straddled Knightsbridge's dying form. He was whispering something.

"W-wait." He drooled blood. "The Shan left me…I'm okay now…"

Guppy, eyes filled with tears, pried his jaw open as Knightsbridge gagged on his blood.

A strangled gurgle was Knightsbridge's only protest. His eyes rolled in their sockets as he knew what was going to happen next.

Guppy shoved the multi-tool into Knightsbridge's mouth, grabbed hold of his tongue, and pulled.

 

[talien]

Gothic: Part 9 – Just a Lick

Jim-Bean explained what had happened to Thredra.

"Spies!" she sighed. "There's no way Knightsbridge should have been able to get past our defenses. If he was infested by a Shan, that means PISCES is moving on us."

"The brain spider in his head escaped."

Thredra paced. "Damn. Yes, it will report back. We haven't much time. You need to find Nadasdy and put an end to this." She pointed at her two giant hulks. "Toodles, Twiddles, gather my things." The two hulks slowly lumbered towards her desk.

"You're leaving?"

"We're all going to have to leave soon. Contact me once you are finished with Nadasdy—"

"Oh yeah, we got your tongue." Jim-Bean handed her a jar filled with red fluid.

Thredra looked inside. "A messy job, but it'll do." She smiled at Jim-Bean and he couldn't help but notice her bone-white teeth. "I'm impressed. You are a man of your word. I thought it would take you weeks."

Jim-Bean snorted. "We don't exactly have a lot of time here."

"Too true." She peered past Jim-Bean's shoulder. In the hallway, she could make out Guppy, who was rocking and muttering to himself, his hands drenched in blood. "What's wrong with him?"

Jim-Bean didn't look back. He knew exactly what was wrong with Guppy. "Him? That's our muscle."

Thredra arched an eyebrow. "Really?"

Jim-Bean nodded. "Once he sets his mind to something there's no stopping him." He shrugged. "But you have your tongue, so let's leave it at that."

"Fair enough," she said. "Hurry back soon, Andy." Thredra blew him a kiss.

Jim-Bean closed the door behind him as he entered the hallway, happy to close that gruesome chapter of his life.

Guppy's eye twitched, a pathetic smile on his face. "So you told her about the tongue we found?"

Archive and Hammer exchanged looks.

"Yeah," said Jim-Bean. "The tongue we found perfectly preserved in that jar that Knightsbridge was keeping." He lied. "She said it counts as a living tongue, so we're good."

"So she's not going to take my tongue?" Guppy sounded like a ten year old talking to Santa.

"No, Guppy," said Hammer. "Nobody's going to take anybody's tongue." He patted Guppy on the back.

"That's good," said Guppy. His shoulders sagged. "That's good."

Jim-Bean shouldered past them. "Come on. We've got a vampire to catch."