Nocturnum - Chapter I

[ae1vart0n]

So they were going to pay for him for his hobby, and he might even get a line in a paper. That would be good for business. Maybe he'd even cancel his appointment tonight.

"No problem. I have some free time tonight in fact, would that be ok? We can talk about payment when I get there."

He was sitting in his wagon, on the street. It wasn't exactly how he liked to introduce himself to customers, but at least they hadn't called while he was working, so it wasn't the worst time for it.

 

[hippocrachus]

I don't really like honey, he thought to himself as he read the flyer.
"I'll go check it out, Macy. I have to go check in with my Anthropology class to make sure they know what they need to do today for lab, and then I'll do a little background check on this Paradise Theater," the professor said after standing and grabbing his things off of Macy's. "I'll see you around. Maybe we can do lunch next week."
After Gabriel made his goodbyes, he headed to the lecture hall his class was held in and briefed the students on their next assignment.
"I've got plans for today, so I'm cutting out early. If any of you have any questions, just e-mail me if they can't wait until the next time we meet." He left them to split up in groups for the project and headed over to the library.
He checked his pocket watch before going in, to make sure Gabrielle wasn't on shift anymore.
That would've been awkward... he thought as he checked the library's electronic database for anything on the Paradise Theater.

[sblock]Research +10[/sblock]

 

[Majin]

~ Gabriel ~

Gabriel has luck searching through the library's vast collection of newspaper clippings on their electronic microfiche database and the internet, finding the following information:

The original builder of the Paradise was Robert Allen, a wealthy man who developed and owned much of the neighborhood at the time. Built in 1928, the Paradise Theater was a showplace for stage acts, the finest venue in town. It seated 350 people, and the walls were a glorious riot of bas-relief and gilt. When the attractions of vaudeville began to fade in favor of those of the silver screen, the Allens decided to convert the Paradise into a movie theater. From 1928 on, the Paradise showed film after film for generations of entertainment-hungry citizens.

The Paradise closed in 1974. The costs of renovating the aging structure and the single yellowing screen conspired to make it unprofitable. Already in considerable disrepair, the ensuing years of neglect left the Paradise in ruins. The theater's one-hundreth anniversary came and went with little fanfare besides a maudlin editorial in the local paper a few years back. But a year ago, hope emerged; A local arts group bought the theater from the Allen Foundation and began a slow process of volunteer renovation and improvement, in the hopes of restoring the Paradise to its former glory as a home to performing arts and cinema. That new hope is close to realization, as the theater reopens in just a few days.

The Allen Foundation itself was founded by Robert Allen's children and grandchildren in 1953 to manage the family's substantial assets and donate money to various charity groups, primarily childcare-related. The last member of the Allen family was Jessica Allen, who died in 1983 at the age of seventy-two. No living heirs exist. The Paradise is now owned by Metro Arts, a nonprofit group that produces performances, art exhibitions, and film events. The group has a full-time staff of six and hundreds of donating members and supporters. Although it appears to have a small office, the Paradise is the group's first permanent event and exhibit space. The head of Metro Arts since 1981, is Sara Landry. Funding for the Metro Arts and the Paradise Theater was provided by a Richard Jacobs, a local philanthropist.

Gabriel finds a recent news article on the internet about a Mary Green, an art student and frequent volunteer at the Paradise, who was recently injured in an accident there. According to published reports, she was painting a ceiling in the main theater space one evening and fell from the scaffolding. She broke her left leg, arm and pelvic bone, and suffered a mild concussion. Metro's insurance is covering her care, and she is in stable condition at Johns Hopkins Hospital. However, she is said to be undergoing psychological evaluation, possibly related to the concussion. An unnamed friend told the local paper, "Mary says the Paradise is haunted or something." Her family -- both parents are her brother -- have declined comment and refused media requests for interviews with Mary. According to the paper this isn't the first time for a ghost sighting. Harry Samson, a janitor at the Paradise from 1952-1974, told the reporter, "I used to hear strange things there all the time, like something moving around in the walls and floors. The Allens always said it was rats. Musta been some big rats."

Gabriel manages to find one more piece of information about the Paradise, almost missing it buried within the microfiche data. It seems that the Paradise used to house a speakeasy in its basement back in the day. It was a private key club, meaning that members had to have a key to get in. The bar was known as the Sound and Light Club, and it ran for most of the 1930s. In 1936 police raided the club on suspicion of kidnapping. A man named Arnold Langtree, the guest of a club member, told police he met a woman at the club and they hit it off. After a few drinks, she began telling him that the club had "private parties" sometimes, and invited him to accompany her to one. Then two doormen escorted her into another room behind the bar. When Langtree questioned them a few minutes later, they denied ever seeing the woman, whose name he did not know. The police raid found nothing, and apparetnly the club was back in business a few weeks later. Arnold Langtree died a month later, the victim of a hit-and-run driver.

 

[hippocrachus]

Not one to settle for the simple summation of a history, Gabriel continued to search through the database for hits on Robert Allen, the Allen Foundation, and the Sound and Light Club. He also made an attempt at looking for anything on the investigation of Arnold Langtree's murder.
The haunting could be a complete hoax, but he felt it was best to know everything a domestic terrorist might to make their possible sabotage of the Paradise Theater that much more realistic.

[sblock]Research +10[/sblock]

 

[Insight]

~ Vincent ~

"You sure you wanna do that man?" Reggie asks as he slowed for a stop sign. At Vincent's insistance Reggie sighs. "Alright man, but if the Cigarette Smoking Man is waiting there to take you away, I don't know you," he jokes nervously.

"Don't scare him anymore than he already is Reggie!" scolded Jamie from the backseat, though Vincent could tell Reggie's words had succeeded in making her more scared.

As the group of friends reached Vincent's house everything seemed to be normal. The door was closed and there was no sign of a break-in anywhere to be seen. Vincent's jeep sat where he had last parked it, seemingly untouched.

"So, whatta ya wanna do? Follow us there? I sure don't feel comfortable leaving my car here, that's for sure..."

"Nah, just drop me off and I'll follow you to the theater," Vincent suggested. Fishing in his jacket pocket, Vincent found his car keys. "Good. I thought I might have left them inside the house."

"OK, man," Reggie replied. "Jamie, you coming with me?"

Jamie looked at Vincent. "Uhh... Vince might not know the way."

It was decided then. Reggie drove to Vincent's house, but stopped a few blocks away, just to be on the safe side. Jamie and Vincent got out and calmly walked down the block to Vincent's Jeep. Reggie waited a moment, then drove off.

"I thought we were gonna follow him," Vincent said, surprised.

"It's all right," Jamie countered. "I'm glad he's not here."

If Vincent's abilities worked like an alarm, a red alert would have been sounding in his head right about now. "Umm..." is all he could manage as Jamie planted a deep kiss on Vincent's lips, pushing him against a stiff hedge wall.

"Woah," Vincent remarked, pulling away. "What was that?"

Jamie smiled. "What?"

His emotions swirling, and a strange lavender haze showing all over Jamie's body, Vincent withdrew a bit more. "Let's just get to the theater."

"I thought this is what you wanted," Jamie said. She took a step closer. "Don't you want me, Vince?"

He backed up. Something wasn't right. He ran through the hedge, scratching the hell out of his face and arms, ripping the jacket from his body. His heart pounded. He turned - Jamie wasn't following. He stopped and turned toward his house. Jamie was in the doorway.

"Take me upstairs and **** me," Jamie suggested, starting to remove her shirt. There were oozing sores all over her arms, chest, and face. Her body started to bloat. "C'mon, Vince. I want you." As she said that, black gunk dripped from her mouth. She rubbed it on her chest.

"No," Vincent said, withdrawing. "This isn't happening." He retreated, but found that he could no longer penetrate the hedge. He was trapped in the yard, and the only way out was through Jamie as she was closing in.

Jamie's hair turned to slimy tentacles, and her arms, body, and legs were plump and sore. She shambled towards Vincent, calling in some unknown language.

Vincent awoke, in Reggie's car, his head cradled on Jamie's lap.

"Wake up, sleepyhead," Jamie said, stroking her hand across Vincent's forehead.

"I was... asleep... ?" Vincent queried, slowly.

"Yeah, dude," Reggie answered. "We're almost to your house. It's showtime."

The car stopped, prompting Vincent to get out of the car. Jamie got in the front seat of Reggie's car.

"I thought..." Vincent began, but cut himself off mid-sentence. "Never mind."

Jamie smiled. "Reggie's gonna swing by my place so I can freshen up. See you at the theatre."

Reggie and Jamie sped off, leaving Vincent alone at his house, wondering what exactly has transpired in his absence. Vincent made for his Jeep, car keys in hand.

"What was that business with Jamie?" Vincent wondered. "I wonder if that means something? Should I stay away from her?"

The question remained, unanswered, as Vincent climbed into his car and drove off.

 

[Velmont]

Steven knock at the door a bit harder as he sees his firends doesn't answer. "Dunstand, I know you're sleeping." he shouts. No answers. "Damn, he must be gone byuing some of his stuff for his computers. He must spend half his wage on all that electronic." he tells aloud to himself.

He walk down the street to a small park where he find an empty bench. He grabs his kaiser and take a mouthfull of it. Once he finish to chew it, he open the newspaper. He look to see if there is no more information about all that information control story. As he find nothing, he starts to think to look at the list of movies. Looking in teh art section he start to think.

Nothing look great. Since the Lord of the Ring, it seems there is no good movies. All the sword movies dunnot reach teh elevel of the return of the king. Legolas is so damn impressive with his bow, and Gimly, he is just too ridiculous. Dwarf tossing, Aragorn is teh first to have done dwarf tossing in the middle earth. What coming up soon? Da Vinci code. Damn, another suspence with complicated intrigue... X-Men 3 is only next week. Sure I won't see that movie on September 11th and the fourth plane. That's must be propaganda paid by the state to raise the proudness of the population toward there own country. Hey? What's that? Paradise Theatre Grand Opening. What's that? a ciname threatre? Hey, damn, I was forgetting that work. I should remind Dunstand. He better show up his face soon, or I'll be stuck to do it myself. He knows I'm not good with that. Not talking he write ten time faster than me with those computers, and he do half the mistake I do.

Steven looks at the address. He decide to take a look by himself and see on place what show are cmoing. He could maybe buy two tickets for him and Dunstand and go see something there and do teh report after. It should be ok. He quickly finish his meal and grabs the art section of the newpaper to keep the address and walk down the street toward the theatre.

 

[Majin]

~ Gabriel ~

Looking deeper, Gabriel finds the following additional information:

Robert Allen/The Allen Foundation

Robert Allen's grandson, George, started the foundation in 1953 to manage the family's real estate assets and use their revenue to fund charitable organizations. George died in 1968 leaving a daughter Jessica, who managed the foundation until her death in 1983. Today the trustee of the Allen Foundation is Richard Jacobs. In a newspaper article, he says the title is mostly ceremonial, and that the long-time staff of the foundation do most of the work.

The Allen Foundation had an earlier incarnation of sorts as the Allen Home for Children, a small private orphanage started by Robert Allen in 1892. In 1937, it ceased operations and the staff and children were transferred to the much larger St. Matthew's Orphanage, a Catholic home for orphans that still exists today and is a widely respected institution.

The Sound and Light Club

The Sound and Light Club existed before and after prohibition, and that its tenancy in the basement of the Paradise was only temporary. The SLC began as a social club for Freemasons in 1900, but soon evolved beyond its Masonic roots into a private club for businessmen and politicians. In the 1940s, the Sound and Light Club sponsored an annual carnival to raise money for children's charities. The group shut down in 1953, its popularity among the city's moneyed classes usurped by the Rotary Club and the steady loss of early members to old age. During its lifetime, the group was based in a variety of locations throughout downtown.

All the addresses the club had were within six blocks of the paradise.

A 1985 newspaper article about the history of charitable groups in the city makes brief mention of the SLC's short-lived carnival fundraisers of the 1940s. A surviving SLC member, Frank Long is quoted in the article.

Unfortunately, nothing further could be found about Arnold Langtree.

~ Roger ~

"Certainly," Sara replies and hangs up shortly after giving Roger directions if he needs them.

~ Vincent ~~Steven~

Steven and Vincent approach from opposite ends of the street. It's daylight, nearing to evening, but the sun has been absent, shrouded in clouds. The Paradise stands on a dirty street. Across the road sits a car with no tires, cryptic orange graffiti scrawled on the back window, probably just a police marker that the car needs to be towed, but its hard to tell. As you walk up to the Paradise, the baroque facade is darkened with grime, but the marquee is clean, the neon crisp and alight, letters placed to form a message: PARADISE IS COMING BACK.

A woman on a ladder holds a piece of plastic formed into the the word THE, and she carefully places it above the other words. She sees you both and calls a hello, then climbs down the ladder to greet you. She's a compact woman with deep-set green eyes, freckles, and long brown hair, wearing blue jeans and a flannel shirt with the sleeves pushed up to the elbows. She introduces herself as Sara Landry, head of Metro Arts.

 

[ae1vart0n]

As soon as he hung up the phone he went to call the lady he had planned to meet tonight to tell her they would need to put off their appointment. It didn't quite go as planned and for the sake of brevity, he ended up calling her back and holding the session over the phone. After hours and hours of hearing her complain about her fear that girl scouts were really a secret organization that took children out in the woods to brainwash them, Roger decided to get lunch.

It was a late lunch, and a bit rushed. Taco Bell wasn't exactly his favorite, but it was on the way to the sanitarium, where he'd upload the video he'd taken onto their computers, play it back and explain it to the lady's doctors before heading off to the Paradise Theater.

"If only our patients were as observent," one of the doctors said.

"They'd just come up with more convincing fantasies," Roger replied cynically.

Deep down he wasn't convinced they were all fantasies though. After all, he had a drawerful of cases back at his apartment under lock and key, that he couldn't disprove. And he had to be objective, if you have evidence for something, and none against, you must acknowledge it. That and he was beginning to see patterns in those cases.

And with that he set off for the theater to meet Sarah and ask her about the hauntings.

 

[Velmont]

She has lovely eyes, and a good looking a...

As the girl climb down, he remark that the woman was saluting him.

"Hmmm, oh! Hi, my name is Steven Terence... I... well" Steven hesitate. He didn't expect to talk to someone alreday. He tought to only look at the poster and at the place, to know a little bit more. After a moment of hesitation he asks "I was here just to take a look... I had see that publicity in the papers, you know." Showing the newpaper he had in his hand. "I have a work for the university to do with a friend of mine. It's in my art history course. I thought that maybe it could do a nice subject, your... nice old theatre."

 

[hippocrachus]

Satisfied with the information, Gabriel left the library and started heading towards the theater a few blocks from campus.