ph_logs | [Cult Follow-Up] Well, That Was Weird

CONTENT WARNINGS:
Violence with religious overtones, cult activities, gore featuring eye trauma and glass shards.

Well, That Was Weird

Once the chaos of combat ends, the members of the Cult of Nyarlathotep stand tense for a long moment before letting out sighs of relief. The dead are dragged aside and piled against the wall while Chloe sits on the stairs and picks glass out of her wounded face with her bare fingers. Nora Winterbottom brings her a few towels from Larkin's bathroom, much to the mayor's dismay.

"What a waste of blood," Lucy muses, tutting.

Pirnach moves toward the center of the room, rubbing his hands together, eyebrows raised, releasing a stressed breath loosely. "What a way to end a party, huh? Well, it's a shame our initiation ceremony went that way, but we appreciate the patience for the rest of you. Now that we're done dealing with those interlopers, let's say we get this show on the road for real, eh?" Looking back to Chloe, Pirnach arches a brow and gestures vaguely and broadly at the room. She waves him off.

"Yes, fine, you do it." Another chunk of crystal glass hits the floor with a clink.

Ingmar brings Pirnach the book from the altar. The thinner, paler man is now shirtless, revealing a massive web of tattoos forming a collar around his neck and extending down over his shoulders, back and chest. He is covered in ceremonial designs, runes and sigils. He wears the locket brought here by Archie and Maude Brenning, the wedding locket which belongs to Linette, and stands in the center of the circle while the rest of the cultists go around to the new initiates. Pirnach speaks once more, clearly able to translate the alien text on the page with little trouble.

"O Bloody Tongue and Caliban Storm, we summon you. Up from the ageless depths of the starless void, we call upon you. We speak the words with blood on our tongues, O Soul and Messenger, that you might bear your Message unto these bodies yet uncorrupted by the vile divine. As they offer their minds and their flesh to you, Dark King, may your greatness unfurl within them, crawling up their veins like venom and spilling forth from their mouths as black bile and red death, as foul as your creeping mist upon the minds of the unworthy. Welcome them into your many obsidian and splendid arms, let their bones decorate your wicked teeth, their meat hot on your fetid breath, and let us be venerated one and all for this feast which shall empower you to wrap your broken lips around this blighted land."

As the words carry on, the final confirmation that this was never an initiation clicks into place. But there is nowhere to run now. Your body feels frozen, your feet rooted to the spot. You feel as stiff as a body in a casket, and can almost feel invisible vines coiling around you from below, immobilizing you in their embrace. Against your will, your eyes train on the circle below as one by one the cultists come around the room with blades and slice the throats of everyone who remains.

As you bleed out, you manage to have enough awareness about you to witness the last bit of the ritual. Sacrifices exsanguinating, blood flows to the center of the room in uncanny little rivers not guided by gravity and soak into the stone circle like a sponge, flowing through its carvings and up around Ingmar's bare feet. He is breathing heavily, almost panicking, as the blood climbs up his chest and neck and into his mouth. By the time he feels the desire to scream, he no longer can.

"Father of Bats, let the blood of these sacrifices serve as a vehicle for your corruption as we create an anchor with which to prepare your greatest sacrifice," Pirnach continues reading. "Once your venom permeates her pitiable flesh, her tears and her screams will stain the ground and claim this rock in your name! We name her conduit, we name her Linette! Ia, Nyarlathotep!"

Your vision swims as your own choked gurgles drown out any further words. You are left with a blurry vision of the stone hoop in the center of the room filling with black pooling liquid from which dark tendrils reach out for Ingmar... before everything fades away.

When you come to, you are back in the forest where the cabins are now dilapidated once more. You are a ghost now, with a day to discuss with your companions what you just witnessed. Once dawn comes the following morning, you will wake in the woods, strewn about the perimeter of the cabins, and you will be able to return home with a vision of the strange and morbid events which helped to put the barrier into place.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Excitement lights up his eyes and soul. For one split second he really thought maybe the woman was still alive and well. And then comes the crushing disappointment.

"Frell. They... they were talking about torturing her." A topic near and dear to him for all the wrong reasons.

"Dammit. Dammit. I think those cultists did more than just put a barrier up. They... summoned something. Some kind of ancient eldritch monster. They were trying to, I don't know, create a new domain for it. I don't think there was ever anything natural about this island. They sounded like they'd been working on this for years."

"Her death was very painful, she mentioned that her suffering was designed...much like on the Eterna I suppose."

But none of them were on that cursed ship anymore.

"She mentioned a Chaos God, I haven't heard his name in the temple, or seen it in any of the books or newspapers. It's almost like no one knew he existed aside from his worshippers."

"That's what I was afraid of." Once again, he hates being proved right. "Is she at rest now?" He's heard that even some of the ghosts of the dead here can't leave so he's hoping that if she does still linger it's not in constant suffering, at least. They've all had enough of that.

"The meeting was held in secret, and some of the biggest names in the town were there. The Mayor, Larkin, for one. I think it's pretty likely that only those involved had any idea about it. I don't think they would have hesitated to kill anyone that found out or got in the way."

Valdis flinches. It's so small that most people would miss it.

"No, I wasn't...I don't know how to send people, and the power of the barrier is stronger than Mortanne, I don't know why I expected it to be different for me."

But's he's continuing, and his information is interesting enough to pull her back from her frustration and into detective mode.

"Larkin? He's been dead for some time...I should have asked Linette if she knew any of her murderers."

Most people would, but he doesn't.

"I'm sorry," he tells her somberly. She did what she could, he has no doubt.

"I can answer that question for you." He grits his teeth together so hard they squeak. Rage broils inside him so powerfully he almost feels like he needs to apologize to Valdis again for making her feel it.

"I think her own parents offered her up as a sacrifice. Her own father... That son of a bitch acted so proud about it, too. I broke his glasses over the bridge of his nose before it was all said and done but..." he couldn't stop what happened in the end.

"Wish I'd done more."

His anger washes over her, but she directs her empathy back toward Max and their neighbors, letting the variance make it easier to breathe.

"Her parents?"

Though Crichton's lament makes no sense.

"Crichton, it happened ages ago, I don't think you can change the past like that."

"No, no, no," he says, waving his hand in the air, "not to change the outcome. These things tend to...correct themselves. Seen that before. I just wish I'd knocked a couple of teeth out too while I had the chance." Petty? Yes. But it would have made him feel better.

"That poor girl. I'm going to make it my goal in the here and now to get some justice for her. When the barrier goes down... I hope that'll be enough."

"The barrier seems unrelated to the Demons, but bringing down both should be the justice we need for Linette and everyone else here."

"Yeah..." he really wishes he wasn't too dead to get a hug right now.

"Hey, by the way, I've got another twelve hours to kill. Want anyone haunted?"

Oh. That is a very tempting offer.

"You should go haunt Erin."

"Erin? Do you think she'd be able to hear me?"

"I assumed she could see you, but I'm not actually sure."

"Neither am I. Guess I could go try and find out. I'll start singing something and see if she joins in. That'll get her."

He sighs and some of the bravado shrugs away. "You want me to, uh, check in again when I'm caporeal?"

"Yes, just so I know you're ok."

It's strange that she hadn't even felt him die, perhaps it's a product of being here, or perhaps because it happened in the past.

"Thank you for getting this information to me so quickly, I'll put it with the rest of my notes and see what else I can find."

"No need to thank me for that. I wanted to make sure someone I trust is in the loop as soon as possible. And, well, dying again sucked and I thought seeing you might cheer me up."

"Did it?"

She can't quite imagine how it would make up for being dead, but they do love each other. How could they not after everything.

"Yeah." Through all the pain, shock, and anger, there's something beneath that: relief. Seeing her, knowing she could still see him, feels like making safe harbor in a storm. "It really did."

"Good. I'll save a hug for you for when you get back."

[Cult Follow-Up] Well, That Was Weird

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