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Authors: Richard Jackson
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descend carefully. This is the kind of place where bad things happen to people. Sometime in the past, part of the basement was walled off. Boxes are stacked up haphazardly against the walls, making the large central room seem cluttered. The smell and humidity aren’t as bad down here. From somewhere in the darkness, I can hear the sound of something humming, a machine of some sort. Maybe it is a heater or a dehumidifier on its last legs. That means the power is still working.
What used to be the laundry room is exceptionally disturbing. The washers and dryers are long gone but strong ropes have been stung out across the room presumably for hanging laundry. I can see more rope coiled neatly in one gloomy corner of the room before Kara directs my attention to the hooks set in the ceiling at odd intervals. What the hell is this place being used for?
The crowbar finds its way into my hand. It does little to ease my mind as I continue my exploration. I follow the sound of machinery and find a door through to other side of the walled off area.
Unlike the rest of the basement, the floor is gone. The foundation and natural stone are exposed. There is a sense of age and something else.
Kara whispers “ People have died here. Some recently….. ”
That was it. Death has a smell all its own. It comes in more flavors than ice cream but it is always unpleasant and never welcome. There is no altar or the usual occult trappings, just a feeling to the place. This is a place of pain and suffering. It is probably Meredith’s work but that isn’t enough to make this building stand out. There is something else, something I can’t place a finger on. Why would Meredith rip up the floor and dig down to the bare stone foundation?
I kneel down to touch the stone feeling the coldness through my gloves. Kara screams a warning as something makes contact with me through the stone. It takes all of my willpower to jerk my hand away and fight against the mind numbing sensation that grip me. I stumble out of the room, desperate to get away from the stone and whatever is in it.
This is an experience I could have done without. I fall to my hands and knees in the super’s apartment and decorate the warped wooden floor with the contents of my stomach. “What the hell?”
Kara answers with an unending stream of emotional babble. She is thinking and speaking too fast for me to keep up with her. It takes a lot to rattle her this badly. The only word I catch is “Servitor” and a sense that it shouldn’t be here. I wait for her to calm down. It gives me time to get my guts under control. My head is still reeling from the brief moment of contact with whatever that thing was. I spit, trying in vain to clear the sour taste from my mouth when I realize I am not alone.
I move quietly to the door of the apartment and use the peephole to see what is going. Someone has turned on the lights in the main room. Even so, I can’t see much. I can tell there are at least three people moving around. For a brief moment, I catch a glimpse of two men. They drag a third figure into the room I recently vacated.
There is the sound of talking, more like orders being given. Like an idiot, I slip out of the apartment and into the light. This is beyond stupid but I have to see, I have to know. I hold my breath not daring to make a sound as I peak into the room.
There are five men there, one of which I recognize as Meredith. I don’t know who the others are but one of them definitely doesn’t want to be here. He struggles in the grip of two men dressed in what has come to be known as business casual. Another man is lighting candles and incense following Meredith’s orders to the letter.
A canvas drop cloth, painted with intricate symbols, has been spread across the dark stone floor. I don’t recognize any of the symbols but my eyes hurt just looking at them. They remind me of Sol’s book but worse. Meredith is smart, I’ll give him that. Most sorcerers make their
What used to be the laundry room is exceptionally disturbing. The washers and dryers are long gone but strong ropes have been stung out across the room presumably for hanging laundry. I can see more rope coiled neatly in one gloomy corner of the room before Kara directs my attention to the hooks set in the ceiling at odd intervals. What the hell is this place being used for?
The crowbar finds its way into my hand. It does little to ease my mind as I continue my exploration. I follow the sound of machinery and find a door through to other side of the walled off area.
Unlike the rest of the basement, the floor is gone. The foundation and natural stone are exposed. There is a sense of age and something else.
Kara whispers “ People have died here. Some recently….. ”
That was it. Death has a smell all its own. It comes in more flavors than ice cream but it is always unpleasant and never welcome. There is no altar or the usual occult trappings, just a feeling to the place. This is a place of pain and suffering. It is probably Meredith’s work but that isn’t enough to make this building stand out. There is something else, something I can’t place a finger on. Why would Meredith rip up the floor and dig down to the bare stone foundation?
I kneel down to touch the stone feeling the coldness through my gloves. Kara screams a warning as something makes contact with me through the stone. It takes all of my willpower to jerk my hand away and fight against the mind numbing sensation that grip me. I stumble out of the room, desperate to get away from the stone and whatever is in it.
This is an experience I could have done without. I fall to my hands and knees in the super’s apartment and decorate the warped wooden floor with the contents of my stomach. “What the hell?”
Kara answers with an unending stream of emotional babble. She is thinking and speaking too fast for me to keep up with her. It takes a lot to rattle her this badly. The only word I catch is “Servitor” and a sense that it shouldn’t be here. I wait for her to calm down. It gives me time to get my guts under control. My head is still reeling from the brief moment of contact with whatever that thing was. I spit, trying in vain to clear the sour taste from my mouth when I realize I am not alone.
I move quietly to the door of the apartment and use the peephole to see what is going. Someone has turned on the lights in the main room. Even so, I can’t see much. I can tell there are at least three people moving around. For a brief moment, I catch a glimpse of two men. They drag a third figure into the room I recently vacated.
There is the sound of talking, more like orders being given. Like an idiot, I slip out of the apartment and into the light. This is beyond stupid but I have to see, I have to know. I hold my breath not daring to make a sound as I peak into the room.
There are five men there, one of which I recognize as Meredith. I don’t know who the others are but one of them definitely doesn’t want to be here. He struggles in the grip of two men dressed in what has come to be known as business casual. Another man is lighting candles and incense following Meredith’s orders to the letter.
A canvas drop cloth, painted with intricate symbols, has been spread across the dark stone floor. I don’t recognize any of the symbols but my eyes hurt just looking at them. They remind me of Sol’s book but worse. Meredith is smart, I’ll give him that. Most sorcerers make their
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