The Blake Chronicles

Memoratum: Remembrance of Silas the Chronomagus

I woke up late this morning having stayed up late last night doing extra research about the sorcerer we had a run in with the night before. For some reason I felt an emptiness, possibly from sleep deprivation. Yet, it seemed to have been there for more than just a night. As I walked out of my door I bumped into my neighborhood letter carrier. His messenger bag flung from his shoulder and spilt to the ground.

“I am so sorry Phil. I didn’t see you coming. This is my fault, let me help.” I apologized. I bent down to help him gather the scattered mail.

“Its quite all right Mr. Foraine. I got this. Its all part of the job. I believe I have a letter for you around here somewhere.” He replied. He picked up the bag and began shoveling handfuls of letters into it.

I noticed one letter a distance from the mailman. It was addressed to me. I quickly scurried over to it curiously. As I grabbed for it, another hand almost caught it before I did. I stood up with letter in hand to see who almost took my letter. It was a wispy thin man of quite short stature. When I looked at him he stood almost a whole head shorter than me. He looked very nervous. His body fidgetted back and forth nervously. His eyes widened as I looked at him, until he lowered the brim of his hat and trolled through me, knocking over the mailman once more repeating the spillage of his bag once more. The stranger’s actions puzzled me. Furthermore, I sensed a strange unexplainable aura about him as he brushed past me.

Once again I helped Phil with the mess. “Anything else for me today, Phil, besides this old letter?”

“Ah yes, there is the one I was looking for. Quite a story behind that letter. We found it just yesterday it was in a security box that hadn’t been used in many years. It is our policy to turn over any such boxes that haven’t been claimed for more than 50 years. We found this letter, it was addressed to you with the right postage. It doesn’t really make sense. Yet we figured it was our duty to deliver it. Crazy, huh?”

I looked at the outside of the envelope with deepened curiousity. There was no return address. Yet, there was my name and exact address in the middle of the parchment envelope written with what appeared to be a traditional quill pen. Fifty years back? That would put this letter’s origin at 1876. And yet, there was a 1925 stamp right on it. The envelope was weighted with more than just a letter. I felt a small metal item, which felt like a key inside.

“Phil, there must be some mistake.” I looked up to ask him a few questions. But he was half way down the street back on his route.

I stood there in a daze for some time trying to ponder what all this meant. After the run-in with that stranger, I felt a little uneasy opening the letter right there in the street. I tucked the envelope into my waistcoat’s inner pocket, and headed to work.

I sat down in my office chair and leaned back. I held the letter up to the light think that I would divine some clue before opening the envelope. Besides the obvious aged look to the envelope there did not seem to be anything remarkable about the letter. I took out my Grandfather’s knife from my pocket. I slid its blade through the opening of the envelope. I first shook out the small key into my hand. I puzzled over they key a few second before taking out the parchment letter. I opened the tri-folded paper, and read:

Letter from the Never-Never

On the back of the letter was a post script: “This key will lead you to your destiny my friend. Farewell for now.”

What were once faint memories, more dream-like than anything else, started to become more concrete. Yes! I began to remember Silas. The pain of his absence finally sunk in. This was the emptiness that was lingering this morning. I felt a trace of helplessness. I wanted to reach out, turn back time, save my friend from this oblivion. Yet, even as I imagined it, the universe began to conspire against me. The paper that I held in my hand began to fade out of existence. Some strong force must have travelled back into time to erase its existence as well. Thus covering all evidence of Silas, and ensuring his erase from all time continuums. I had to stop this. I quickly threaded paper into my Underwood 3-Bank Typewriter, and transcribed the entire letter before the paper disappeared. My reasoning was that if it was MY creation, they would have to erase me in order to erase the letter. At least then I would have a fighting chance to preserve Silas’ memory. I had a belief that if I held on to some memory of him he would have a chance against the fate of Oblivion. As I was half way through typring out the transcription, I looked down at Silas’ key he left in envelope. It was beginning to fade as well. I typed faster hoping that my theory would work. My typewriter keys started to become stiff, requiring more downward force to cause them to work. Several times its letter arms would jam together. Was this the Universe conspiring? Or was it just the mystical hexing energies surging from my emotions? Whatever they were I needed to control them if I was going to win. I took my hands off the keyboard, closed my eyes, and took in a deep breath. As I opened my eyes I looked down at the key. The key was almost completely gone. Only its shadow remained. Quickly, I finished the last sentence. As I typed the finishing period, the key came back into existence sitting there on the top of my desktop. I picked it up. It was really there! My plan had worked. Somehow, somewhere, in some Time (I assumed in 1876) Silas was given one more day of existence. My hope was that the clever chronomage would be able to use that move to his advantage to evade the Fate that would have taken him.

I signed in relief holding the key in my fingers now. I leaned back again in my chair and inspected it closer for clues, a force of habit. To me at this time it just appeared as a simple key. How would this lead me to my destiny? Suddenly beneath my desk I felt something brush up against my legs. I leapt half startled. To my surprise, yet delight, was a white rabbit. I smiled and picked it up. I chuckled under my breath. “Silas, you clever bastard! Kyle is going to go crazy over this.”

Knighten signature

Dear Phillip
They are coming to take me away
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As much as I try to have a normal life it seems that I am doomed to watch as it gets weirder and weirder. I have traveled through time, fought ghouls, vampires and demons even faced a dragon and that’s just in the last two weeks. I thought that by adding a girl to the mix that it would slow things down but it seams to just complicate things. Thankfully the god of darkness (Mab) doesn’t know I exist now (thanks to the time travel) and I’ll thank you not to tell her.

I really do not know why Uncle Phillip sent that chest or why he knew where to send it as I have been bouncing around with street gangs and musicians from town to town, suburb to suburb, round up until the last three years. I hadn’t written him in so long that I was quite surprise to find that he was dead or that he knew where I was. I don’t like looking into the chest as there is something haunting about it. I can’t put my finger on it, magic, demons, and the supernatural? Don’t answer that for me; you’d probably mess with my head.

It seemed that our Uncle was going to live for ever as he was not our Uncle but actually our Great Uncle on our Fathers side (or something like that). The guy didn’t look a day over 50 and I thought that he was going to live forever. When his shop burned down in Scotland all those years ago I didn’t understand why Father packed us all up and shipped us to America without so much as a word to Phillip. Father asked that we never bring up his name again.

What ever it was that haunted Phillip must have followed us or wrote ahead or was on the ship already because we had a streak of bad luck from the day that we arrived. I thought that the craziness had stopped when we got to Chicago at least until we all were attacked. I have nightmares still of all that blood and your bodies lying still.

To see you walking about is haunting. I want to escape the madness. I contemplated suicide but my pal Benny has always talked me out of it, plus there is an intense need to stop your hunting and those creatures like you. What is to be done? What did Phillip know?


Corner of my Mind
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We lost Silas. Well, I think we did- it is so unclear to me. I feel that there are literally cobwebs in my mind, and I no longer know what has happened and what did not. Did we kill that demon twice? Were we much better prepared the second time? I seemed to know what would occur before it happened. Even my conversations with Mr. Ness- I knew that he would offer me a position, I knew the paperwork- all of it. Yet I am unsure if I am in a dream.

Perhaps this is the never never that Kyle and Henry spoke of. Then there is Henry- he has changed radically from the angry Scot he once was. I should be happy, but I am concerned that someone has replaced him and this is some evil doppelganger. Benny seems his normal self, as does Kyle. Knighten seems a bit reserved- almost melancholy. This group seems poised on the edge of a knife.

Why do I remember a nightmare about a child with killer toys? Why does it seem like it is real? Where did Silas really go? So many questions. I wonder if I am becoming like Dr. Johnson- a little unhinged.

Krzysztof Krystkowiak

The butterfly effect
The Letter from the Nether

Dear Knighten,

I know you will barely remember me, as if from a dream. I felt I needed to apologize for the harm I caused in the future, and you’re one of the only ones that would be able to handle this letter.

The universe teeters on the edge of oblivion. So many things could go wrong at any moment. This story is about one of those moments.

I woke up from a nightmare in the fall of 1926 on the 9 th hole of the PGA tournament.

The dream began at the tournament where I was, but lead me to hundreds of locations all over the world where packs of ghouls were grabbing footholds. I saw hundreds of unexplained murders and dozens of wrongly accused ‘murderers.’ And then it started to get bad. I felt the terror, the despair, the hatred of defeat and destruction slowly eat the human race like fire spreading across a landscape. The ‘top of the food chain’ was quickly reduced to mere cattle for a species too resilient, aggressive and bereft of any trace of humanity for them to defeat.

Time rewound in my dream and my mind’s lens focused in on a single group of rag-tag heroes in Chicago. I watched as they found the clues and followed them right into the center of a foothold. I could see the different outcomes spreading like squid tentacles, writhing and diverging into separate paths of destruction. Then I saw a single outcome that would lead the group to foil the ghouls’ plans. I would have to step on a butterfly this time.

So I made my way to the Church. We beat the demon, and then made our way to the ghoul stronghold. As so many chronomancers do, I fell victim to the God Complex that goes hand-in-hand with time-travel and visions. You think you know how to fix things because you see the outcomes. As we were all about to be destroyed, looking a ghoul army in the face, I made a quick decision: Hope that the things on the other side of the Nevernever in the ghoul stronghold would focus on the ghouls, and allow us to escape. I opened a portal big enough to cover our exit, but unfortunately it was also big enough to let the dragon whelplings out of their hatchery and into the man-eater’s paradise of Chicago.

Luckily, I am not the only one with my finger on the pulse of the universe. The Gatekeeper’s ever watchful eye saw the destruction I had wrought, and even though it wasn’t nearly as bad as the Ghoul’s reign of terror, it was bad enough that I was ‘Erased’ from that timeline. The mechanics of memory are still not fully known by anyone, so I can’t explain how you and the group remember something that was un-happened, but I am glad I remember you all. Tarot might pay you a visit from time to time, but I won’t be able to.

Please apologize to Krzystof for me, and explain as best you can, as I know this will plague him the most.

Please give this magically animated rabbit to Kyle. It is enchanted to never stop running, but never run too far from Myself or the Kitsune.

Tell Benny that diversity isn’t bad, and that the kite flies highest in a strong wind.

Tell Henry that his strength stems from within. He didn’t give anything up when he shed the Fetch inside, he gained himself.

On a side note, which might help shed light on the frailty of the universe; in future literature, there will be a rash of stories about an apocalypse by mindless, frail undead. It’s typical of a people to make fun of something or someone that threatens them or frightens them. These stories are in response the ghoulish future that was barely averted, but still in phantom-memory of the mortals.

Remember the lessons you unlearned, and keep a weather eye on the horizon.

Your friend,

Silás Fugenzo.

Ghoul Raid Part One: Rock'em Sock'em

The creatures swarmed the angel, taking him down to a knee. His ruby-handled pistols were still raised firing off shots enough to keep them at bay. Benny was doing his best keeping their vicious fangs and claws from hurting us. It seemed as though he was getting truly pulverized, yet his smile never diminished from his face. He seemed to be filled with the sweet song of Jesus while taking a beating far surpassing what anyone in the group, even “Tough-as-Nails” Henry could take. In fact, it seemed as though he was enjoying holding these ungodly creatures at bay.

Kyle, our curious Kitsune, stood perplexed at the sideline. His focus was not on our battling angel, but rather on where the dwarf creature had vanished into thin air. Even though there seemed to be nothing more we could do to catch the enigmatic escapist, he appeared to be determined to find a way to rip him back out of the now-gone hole into which he fled. The fox went around and around the spot, sniffing and inspecting the scene oblivious to the current quarrel between angel and ghouls. That is until the spittle of one of the wrestling ghouls flew hap-hazardously from the ghoul’s open snarling jaw through the air and on to the well-groomed third tail of the entranced fox. The kitsune spun around, hair raised on his back, eyes with a look so full of rage it could burn a hole through a mortal man. To my astonishment, it did. The fox’s irises turned red and began to glow like a metal piece in a blacksmith’s forge. A searing tongue of mystic fire shot from the glowing eyes and blew a hole through the cheek of the a flailing ghoul.

The ghoul shreaked an awful cry. He arched back and grabbed his injured face in a natural response to his utter pain. Yet, the burned ghoul’s dominant hand still maintained its grip on a piece of Benny’s trademark suit. The burnt-face creature then reaffirmed his grip. As he returned this off-hand back to holding Benny, we could see the imprint of his five fingers into the putty-like melted skin around the painful hole left in the side of his face. His jaw clenched tight. His resolve to take down Benny was rekindled by his pain. Benny’s left hand holding his pistol dropped.

Silas was also on the sidelines a stones through from me. He had just released the energy of his circle creating the holy mist that the ghouls had just inhaled. Now he was mentally exerted. He sat back down in a lotus like position within his circle. Completely cut off mentally to the small battle, he began playing his drum. Precariously, no sound came from his drum. I closed my eyes for a moment to Listen as CG had taught me to do. When I opened them again I saw auras pulsating from the drum matching each time Silas struck the stetched leather tympany of the ceremonial drum. These auras were like waves forming on the surface of a pond of pure light. Each beat created a different frequency corresponded to a different color of light. These waves stretched out from the drum until it reached the perimeter of the circle. Once they touched the circle’s boundaries they bounced back, reflecting at a higher frequency. Silas’s body absorbed these reflected waves of energy, breathing them in through his nostrils with every rhythmic breath he inhaled. The sight was soothing and relaxing. I felt envious of those energies, know that I was almost spent myself, and would probably use up all my last energy reserves in the next evocation that I was planning.

One ghoul now had Benny by the hair pulling his head back exposing his stubble-coated throat. It looked as though the ghouls were working together as a team to take our angel down. As this ghoul cocked his Benny’s head back, another ghoul revealed five filthy clawed finger nails and attempted to slash open Benny’s pharyinx. This futile attempt to give the fallen angel an Italian Neck-Tie simply made Benny laugh with rage. His neck was completely unharmed. I quickly thought about the frustration Benny must go through every morning to try to get a close-shaven look. It is no wonder he doesn’t bother some mornings…the famous Gillette doesn’t make too many cold-iron razors.

Henry, seeing this dog pile on Benny was itching to get a piece of the action. He leaped at one of the ghouls and gave his arm a good twisted behind the ghoul’s back, as only a fighting Scotsman really can. Everyone heard the grotesque pop sound that cracked the air coming from the ghoul’s shoulder just after Henry yelled. “Get off my friend, bub!” The ghoul unphased by the pain in his dislocated shoulder spun around and landed a shin kick to Henry’s mid-section. The incredibly fast and strong blow sent Henry sailing backwards up into the air. Henry hit the ground hard gasping for breath. Benny’s right hand was forced to the ground. The ghouls were now struggling to shove his face into the mud. I knew Benny could take most hits they could dish. But, I was very unsure how he would survive with his lungs full of muddy slurry.

My fear for Benny’s survival took over my mind. My fisrt impulse was to use a surge of force to pick up and throw the dwarf-creature’s wagon. It was big it was heavy…but it was alos made of wood and iron. I had no idea how our angel would be affected by this. Even though it was not technically “unworked pine”, and possibly not “cold, rot iron”, I couldn’t take that risk. Then I remember the great stone that I had used to stop the wagon. It still lay wedged underneath the carriage.

I focused all the feelings of fear and my will to the center of my chest. For a moment the pain was incredible. I struggled to take in the deep breath I needed to push my will even further. From my chest I shoved the resevoir of energy through my legs and feet, and into the ground where I stood. The energy travelled through the earth and ripped out where the huge boulder lay half embedded in the ground beneath the wagon.

The wagon lurched upward on to the front axel and wheels. The boulder exploded from the back end causing one of the wheels to spin maddly. The boulder continued to roll at an incredible velocity. With each rotation more earth was added to the tumbling mass. Until, a mini mountain plowed through the mound of bodies overwhelming Benny. The majority of the force was inflicted on the six ghouls. They seemed to flatten almost instantaneously to the rolling surface of the gigantic boulder. Benny, although immuned to the damage cause by the force, was not impervious to the force itself. His body flew through the air like a mere ragdoll. He crashed just shy of a maintenance house clear on the other end of the park. The boulder continued its course of destruction smashing through a decadently trimmed hedge, tearing up a track of sod as it rolled. Finally, it crashed heavily into the base of an old oak tree, where it stopped it rampage. The great tree bent backward from the great force, then lurched forward back over the boulder before returning to its original position, though a little leaning to the South.

Knighten signature

Ghoul Suit Riot

CapetownskiesI broke the circle’s invisible wall with my fist, and the power of Iansa coursing through the circle and me howled toward their target: the Holy Water. I felt the tendrils of power sent through the spell burst the balloons mid-air, and grab millions of droplets. They spread out like ink in a stream, and created a fine mist blanketing the field, then filtered down to their targets. Like a phantom appendage, I felt the water lay over the ghouls and Benny, forcing its way through their supernatural barriers.

As soon as I felt the magic run its course, I started into my next spell. My first took away their regenerative advantage, now I was going to make them easy targets for my friends. I called up the memories of my training with Her, and created the construct. Most thaumaturgy requires significant symbols and physical representations, but I have done it so often, I don’t need the majority of them. I let my will flow into the ring, and sloth filled my consciousness. I let it grow until it was almost overpowering my will to breathe. I felt the cold entropy licking at me from the inside, threatening to surge outward.

Again, I broke the circle with my fist, and the power launched toward its target. The power left me, but the icy hunger lingered inside me. This time it was worse than it has been in a long time. I had to take out my Drum of the Circle, and beat a meditation chant to clear my head and oust the cold fingers of death raking my soul.

An unearthly crash ripped me from my meditation, and I rushed out of the trees to see what caused it. Knighten. He’s been playing around with his Evocation, and has been having some fun with what he calls ‘Earth Element.’ A giant slab of rock was on top of what used to be the ghouls. Gore was oozing out from beneath it. I noticed that the group was huddled around Henry, and there was a huge commotion among my group members.
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‘Silas, you’ll never guess what’s happening! Henry is changing; and I think he might be choosing the Fetch side! This is way more interesting than that time Mussolini was knocked out by his wife.’

I finally crossed the field they had come to a decision: I was going to help them get to the Summer Court through the Nevernever. It was a fairly interesting sight to see; a fallen angel in a tattered suit, holding a rope leading to a tied up, half changed fetch; a fox, looking warily between them, but mainly toward the fetch; and a young reporter looking like it was Christmas, but he couldn’t tell any of the kids on the playground about it. They had rounded up a group of tiny horses, and tied them to a post, as well, which only added to it.

‘Well, let’s get going, then. It shouldn’t take a long time, but it looks like Henry has less.’ I said to them, and we set off to the closest connection to the summer court’s holdings. I had Tarot enter first, just in case there were big nasties on the other side, ‘cause there are ALWAYS big nasties when you don’t want them. Luckily, the path was clear, so we all stepped through the tear in the fabric.

4 bp blogspotWe stepped into what looked like an old, dead forest. It took a minute to get my bearings, as I had only heard about the pathways to the Summer Court in my training. As soon as I got my direction we started off, a macabre procession through a dreary wood. It’s actually a pretty ingenious idea, to have a part of the Nevernever that looks so ‘Winter’ be bordering the lands of the ‘Summer.’ Too bad every Winter lackey worth his salt knows how to get there. I could feel gossamer curtains of perimeter wards brush past my skin as we got closer. We were there, the outer wall of Summer, and a warden stepped out of the trees.

‘We don’t want any of YOUR kind here; definitely not HIM.’ She said scathingly, visibly disgusted by the sight of Henry turning. We tried to explain that we were allies of the Court, and that we were seeking refuge. She turned to Henry and started to berate him, but it seemed to have the right effect, since he soon shook off the Fetch side.

The warden expulsed us from the wood, and we appeared on a broken sidewalk beside the Chicago River. Henry and Benny went off to grab weapons, and fix Benny’s mail suit.

Knighten, Kyle and I went to the park, again. We set the bodies in the circle I had made for easy concealment, and tied the horses to trees nearby. Kyle stayed to keep watch over them, while Knighten and I took the sled loaded with bits and pieces of ghoul to his garage.
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That’s when the real work began. I set to work putting together a construct for an inventive bit of thaumaturgy. Working with the ghoul pieces and some coveralls that were in a supply closet, I magically stitched together a disguise for each of us. It was a little bit of Conjuration, mixed with a Veil or two, and a sprinkling of Transmutation. Looking back, they were pretty awesome suits. When they weren’t being worn, they looked like someone had sewn pieces of mangled corpses to pairs of coveralls, and didn’t smell too pretty either, but when someone got in them, the veils activated, the pieces stitched themselves together, and the wearer changed size to match the ghoul whose pieces he wore. Even the clumsiest of humans would pass off as a ghoul wearing the Suit.

We all got ready, and left for the park; the five of us put our suits on. When Henry put his on, it had a strange reaction. Apparently he had inherited an enchanted cloak from his family, and it reacted with the enchanted overalls – he grew to twice the normal ghoul size. Flashbacks of the scrying flashed by my eyes, because he looked exactly like the alpha ghoul.

The giant ghoul Henry grabbed the bodies, and we made our way to the sewers. As we walked toward the manhole, I felt an odd sensation that started from beneath my cheek bone, and worked its way up to my eye. Blood gushed from my lids, and the world went white.

An inhuman scream was born in front of me, and grew in volume till it filled my consciousness and I could see the sound against the white backdrop. It was enough to make me want to rip my ears off, if I could only find my hands, and eat my eyes, if I could only stop my teeth from vibrating. A spot red hit the white, like a droplet of blood in water, and shapes started to form in its inky wake. I saw an ocean of ghouls, its waves crashing against a large ghoul. Its mouth came into focus, and I realized the screams were coming from it. The world went black; silent; empty.
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My vision exploded back to the park, and my companions. ‘WAIT!’ I called. I told them of the visions, with a warning that it might not be what we expect, though it might be what we fear. The disbelief in their faces was evident, and most voiced it. It doesn’t matter to me if people believe my visions, it is still my job, though, to make sure I do all I can to arm them with tools to avoid unsavory ends. We continued onward toward the blackness in the sewers.

Surprise surprise, the sewers reeked; they were filled with sludge and refuse. There is nothing in this world or the next that I hate more than the stench of raw sewage, and especially not in confined spaces. I will have to remember that the gasses in the air are flammable.

Black light bathroomWe wander the sewers for a long time, light from Tarot only partially beneficial, but it was a little disgusting; he puts off U/V rays more than anything else, and it was like using a black-light in a sleazy motel room after a Prom party. The others didn’t know what they were seeing in white, but even so I had Tarot return to his Drum.

Wolves face  off by wolveskeeperEventually we got to the room with the ghouls, and had a confrontation. For a visual of what happened, you can watch the Discovery Channel during wolf week… if they could talk and cast magic. Eventually we confused the little ghouls and they attacked their alpha instead of ours.

We went back to the entrance to regroup and decide what happens next, just as one of the little ghouls looked toward us hungrily.

Ghouls Gone Wild

Six ghouls are on the field coming for a feast on human corpses. Benny has been keeping them at bay. Their blows are glancing off him like the wind beneath a hovering fly’s wings. They seem to be getting more frustrated with him blocking their way. Its a good thing these ghouls “Ne lisent pas français” or else they would read all about Benny’s aversion to unworked pine or cold iron, clearly spelled out in Pierre Louis Descartes book, “Mes Frères: Les Anges Déchu Neuf”, My Brethren: The Nine Fallen Angels. I feel that Benny’s secret origins, though, will be safe with us; it is not as if we any of us harbor any malice toward him. Although, Henry I feel has been ever lurkying toward the Darkness. Given the right push he may pose as a breach, putting our comrade Fallen Angel at risk of entering Oblivion. But not today, anyway. Henry did his best to wrestle down a presumed harbinger of th Winter Court that seemed to be just as tough as Benny. Yet, he did not want to stay around to fight. He vanished into a collasping portal, leaving behind his large wagon and four miniture horses that looked more like something you would find in a little girls nursery, than strapping draft horses. I don’t think I every have seen Kyle so bitter, than he was seeing the dwarf get away. Silas has just finished casting his spell to vaporize the holy water that we have stored in some rubber bladder balloons. I just cast a vacuum spell on the area where the ghouls are to force their air out of their lungs, so they will inhale deeply our holy mist…but wait! Wasn’t there a hulking ghoul the last time we saw them? Where did the big one go?

Let me back up a little bit. I need to explain how the gang and I got in this mess.

I thought it would be a good idea to bring Silas in on meeting Dr. John Johnson. They both work with dead things, and they both like to ramble away on tangents. There is something about knowing too much for their own good. My only worry is that one is a Cubs fan and the other is stuck as a Red Soxs diehard. So to me, getting these two together seemed like a perfect idea: we would get tons of information about this baffling case, AND be entertained by two intellectual sports nuts battling it out in witty baseball banter. Unfortunately, it is not my call. Dr. Johnson works for Chicago PD…which means that my idea needed to be cleared with “by-the-book” Agent K.

A lump settled in my stomach.

The last time I talked with Krzysztoff, I ended up with my tail between my legs running out of the precinct wanting to hit something. I was so frustrated that my ambient magical energy, the one CG warned my about, almost fried my Mercedes’ pistons. Fortunately, CG taught me how to retract it back in so that only minimal damage is done. I still had to take her in for a tune-up; and boy did CG’s trick give me a headache. It felt like a rod-arm had flung out of the engine and cracked me on the head.

Anyway, I had a strong hunch about Silas’ abilities and our case. It felt worth the trouble talking with Agent K. I jumped into the red Mercedes and ran my fingers over the gold trim of the mirror just before I adjusted it. “How’s She running Terrance?” Terrance has been working on my father’s cars for years. He gently slammed the car’s hood.

“She should do you fine, Masa’ Knighten.” He threw me the keys. I caught them with my left hand.

“Terrance, you know you don’t have to call me ‘Master Knighten’. You are my friend, not my manservant. How much do I owe you?”

“Free a’ charge, Masa’ Knighten, a favor fo’ yo’ daddy.”

“Well that is very kind of you, Terrance. But I insist. I fear that with some new developments I will be needing your services more regularly. I wish to establish a standing business relationship. Here is twenty dollars, I know that it is probably more than you charge, but I am not just paying for a tune-up. I really am wanting a long-term business relationship. How about it, Terrance? Does that sound fair?”

“Its sound mo’ than fair, Mas’a Knighten. I say you is just like yo’ daddy. Always kind to me and my family.” That statement made was worth more to me than the service he had just done on my car.

“Thank you for your kind words, Terrance…and remember, it’s just Knighten.”

I reached into my pocket to retreive the last two twenty-dollar bills that I had for the month. I knew the other would be used to give to Ludmita for all her kindness in feeding our crew. She has been so kind, and she needs something more to replace all that we are taking…especially that Benny. He can really pack away a full plate of eggs. I felt bad for Krzysztof. I knew he is too set in his traditions to say no to us. Yet, no one else really has anything else to spare. Benny sleeps in a church and believes the Lord would feed him as he feeds the sparrows of the field. Kyle is a kitsune, it is his nature to take…and he can’t work anyway given the fact that he isn’t even human. Henry just lost his job…well more like he just killed his boss last week. That didn’t quite go so well with the rest of the band; they fear him now…which most people do. Although, I have been working on getting over that fear. I just keep saying to myself “Its just Henry. Its just Henry”. So that leaves me to trying to make up the difference.

I felt that lump in my stomach, hunger pangs maybe. I wondered what I would do to make it to the end of the month, and rent hadn’t been paid yet. I would have to come up with one damn good story for Ripley or I would be out on the streets.

I felt my Granddad’s pocket knife next to the two crisp twenty-dollar bills. It was then that I knew I was doing the right thing. I knew I would make it. even if I had to set aside my pride, and eat at my parents’ house a few times this month. Unfortunately, I knew that meant that my father would go on and on about how I was not living up to the Foraine family name. And how working for the Ripley’s Register was not a real job. But hey! At least I wouldn’t starve, which is more than I can say about some of the families in Krzysztof’s neighborhood.

“Here you go, Terrance. I will bring her in each week for you to keep her running smooth. I am counting on you, my friend.”

“Sho’ thing, Ma—- I mean, Knighten, you du boss.”

I put the keys into the ignition and turned the engine over. The pistons purred like a full-grown tigress. It sent shivers down my spine. “You do great work, Terrance!” I backed out of his garage. I looked back at him through the rear view mirror as I pulled away. I was rubbing his hands on a worn denim cloth and had a big white toothy smile on. Granddad was right. It did feel good to do the right thing. I notice the lump in my stomach was gone, replaced with a warm hot feeling that was quite as satisfying as a home-cooked steak and potato dinner.

I pulled up to Krzysztof’s place around noon. Ludmita answered the door. “Hello, Ludmita is Krzysztof in?”

Knighten signature

Ghoul Gracious.

Hello all! I’m Tarot. Well that’s not my name, but it is to you. I have taken to chronicling the stories of my young friend, Silas, and his little friends. Well just for a day or three. He’s going to be a little busy in the coming week; silly thaumaturgists and their time consuming. He thinks I am off gallivanting in the flow of time again, so this’ll be our little secret; SHHH!

A word of warning, I might switch tenses erratically, but this is to be expected from a being of time. I have impeccable grammar, but telling a story today that happened yesterday and has ramifications on tomorrow is too juicy to not take a peek or two as I bardify, and therefore I might be talking to you from the past, present, or future.

OK! Now that introductions are through, and I have thoroughly confused the dim-witted, I will get on with the historifications. Oh yeah, and my words are words, they’re just not your words, so stop complaining.

It was one week after the fight with the demon. During the week, Henry had received a mysterious steamer through the Post. It was sent from family, I believe….. Yeah, the trunk is sent due to an unfortunate tragedy. I won’t speak of it here, as that’s something that he should do, or something. See Silas? I learn!

During the week, there will be some disappearances, and not all of them are from Chicago! Oh, you don’t know that yet. Well now you do. Just keep that in mind, and pressing on.

Around midday, Knighten, that smart-aleck, went over to Krzystof’s house to do a favor for Silas. He wanted to do some scrying with the remnants of ghoul that might be on the foot, and possibly even the human pieces still in the ghoul’s digestive tract, so ne needed a swab of the foot.

Krzystof’s mother answers the door. She tells him off for coming by while he’s sleeping, and that he is a bad influence on her little Krzystof. (For good reason.) She tells him to leave, and that her little Krzystof needs time on his own to find a ‘good’ girl. And here it comes: Knighten inserting foot in mouth. ‘Oh, well I was just going to talk to him about a double date we are going on.’ Ah, the craziness that ensues. Eventually he works it out, though he has a huge problem: He promises K’s mother that ‘Anatolya’s Nina,’ whom, it turns out, is a Mob Boss’ daughter, will be going on a date with Krzystof. A clean cop and a mobster’s daughter! I should have brought a Big Gulp and Twinkies. This is perfect.

Krzystof came to the rescue, asking his mother to keep her voice down, and they went to his room. Knighten put forth Silas’ plight. (nice little bit of Olde English there, eh?) Krzystof is wary where the Time-mage is concerned, and I don’t blame him. If I weren’t so awesome, and hadn’t seen worse, I would get the heebie-jeebies from him, too. Well the best part is Knighten tried to mislead the Pollock, which is only funny ‘cause it failed miserably. Eventually they decide they need to meet with everyone, especially since there is a new member in their little troupe.

Then it was up to Knighten to make good on his promise to Krzys’ mother. It took him several hours to track the little flap-dancer down, but he finally did. He set up a date to take to the Reds and Blues club that night.

When Silas is in the picture, I’ll let him put his little diary entries in, so I’ll be quiet…. Sorta.

It was a week after the demon’s death, and I had asked Knighten to procure some trace from the severed body parts in the morgue. He went, and Krzystof requested a meeting with everyone.

We all met up at McNally’s at around six. Henry welcomed me, and I tried to apologize for being so closed off. It didn’t go over well, (That’s an understatement!) as Krzystof was very wary of me. He presented his worry, and I told him that I was committed to the cause.

I explained I needed a part of the beast we were tracking or part of its victim. I told him that I was going to use a technique very similar to one used by law enforcement in the future, which is: DNA tracking and forensic science. His ears perked up, as it were, to hear that I knew (know is such a relative term; compared to krzystof, he knew a thing or two, but it’s awful how much he really doesn’t know about Forensics) about the future of law enforcement, and decided it was a fair trade.

At that point Krzystof and Knighten were almost late for their date with a mob daughter and her friend. They thanked us all for a good time, and went outside to go. I followed them out to the car, suspecting he was going to hex it. You see, when young mages get their hands on modern technology, whatever ‘modern’ is to them, it tends to freak out. Me, for instance, I can’t use…. Well that might be messing with the timeline if I told you about my hexing issues. Knighten’s Modern is his car, among other things.

He tried to turn the engine over, and it sputtered out. He looked to me, confused, and I explained that wizards have that effect. I tried to think of a good solution without having to take the time to teach him calming techniques, but there wasn’t any great solution. I told him he was in the back seat for this date. I saw the impish grin start to seep across his face. I could tell he wouldn’t have a problem with that.

I slunk off to sleep until Krzystof called…

MAN! He’s a bit wordy don’t you agree? It took him 6 paragraphs to cover a 1 hour period of time. Dreams could be described in fewer words, and Kingdoms destroyed with even fewer.

The date between the Mob Girl and the Good Cop went well. (Oh, man, there should be a Romeo and Juliet spin off written about those two. Or even a reverse Beauty and the Beast? Or Grease?)
And everyone had a good time, well except for Knighten; he seemed to get a good slap across the face by his date. They drop the girls off at a ‘decent’ hour, (Man, the twenties were weird. ‘Decent’ hours….)

After a nap, Krzystof went to the morgue to meet up with Dr. Johnson. I’m going to do some mad TiVo action for you, so pay attention.
K: Dr Johnson?
J: I wasn’t expecting you.
K: Could we go into your, uh (points to office)
J: Yes. It could be soon but not yet that they will be attacking people, we can’t have that
K shows his new FBI badge
J: Gratz!
K: It’s secretive.
J: Spy, are you?
K: Not yet. My concern is saving lives, and my assoc have ‘unique’ skills. I would appreciate it if I could take a clean cloth and wipe it over one of the bitten legs.
J: Hmm… that would get bits of uh… stuff… what would they need with that?
K: There might be magical residue.
J: Wizards?
K: For your safety, I can’t tell you
J: Oh, of course, hush hush.
K gets the cloth, and sets up a dinner with Dr. Johnson to meet with his ‘friends.’

Aaaand… Done. How was that? Confuzzled yet? Naw, if you made it this far, that was no biggie.

This whole time Knighten, Benny, Henry and Kyle researched Ghouls. Research is boring, so I won’t get into it. If you want to know about Ghouls, just read on.

And here comes another blathering from my bud. Prepare yourselves.

After sleeping, I set up a space to do the tracking spell we would need. Krzystof called me, and I gave him the directions.

Krzystof and I talked quite a bit. I told him about future innovations in forensic science, and I used his base knowledge of facial recognition (actually discovered in the 1800s!) and the more accurate, and more common, fingerprinting. It was fun talking to him, as he was eager to hear what was to come. I tried to talk to him about the similarities between future of DNA and magical tracking spells, but he was soon lost, or lost interest, I am not sure which.

After I had the cloth, I saw that there were plenty of residues, so I separated the Ghoul from the Human, and set it up in the construct, which was a circular mirror. Some might say I am a bit theatrical, but if a mirror works, it works. Why should I try to invent some peasant version of the spell when I have the more common representation available to me?

I asked him if he wanted to help me with the spell. I explained he might feel weak, or he might feel a surge of power while I cast the spell, and he said he was ready. An added benefit of this was that he could join in the vision with me. I started to cast, and shapes started to form in the mirror. They locked into place, and a vision of the sewer system crossed the scrying lens.

The vision shifted, as we set our gaze up the tunnel. The water treatment plant came into view. I saw a pile of fresh kills, quite a bit more than the four or five that were supposed. I estimated at least thirty, and they weren’t bodies stockpiled after months of killings, they looked fresh. Luckily I didn’t add scent to the tracking spell. Movement in the dim plant caught my eye, and I focused on it, and realized it wasn’t one or two rogue ghouls, but what looked like a pack. There were a few dozen regular-sized ghouls, all giving dominance to a larger ghoul that seemed to be the Alpha. I pulled my eyes away from the scene, and noticed Krzystof’s expression; disgust mingling with fear, masked by his trained-officer look of determination.

We brought the information back to the group, and we all got ready. It was good knowing what we were going up against, and where we could expect the attack to come from. They loaded up some more of their holy water balloons, and I started thinking of something I could do. I pitched my idea to the group, who all agreed it would help.

We made our way out to the park to scout it out, and plan the best base of operations, and from where to launch the attack. I picked out a good place in the forest to run my magic, and the rest went off to scout the buildings to the south.

The rest of the day was spent preparing the construct for the spell. It was going to take a lot of preparation, and I had to get started.

OK! So from there on, for ten paragraphs, he describes his preparations. Yeah, it’s that bad. He probably just needed to write or something. It probably soothes his soul. I know that watching awesome famous happenings sure doesn’t.

So the Fallen Angel tracks the ghouls to a storm-drain, where they suppose that the ghouls will come from. They ask Silas to put a minor alarm ward around the drain, and then he slinks back to do his preparations, oh and might I add it’s pretty good for a mediocre idea. Why couldn’t he have thought to create frozen holy water spikes to throw at the ghouls, slice their heads off, or a holy water explosion, using the hydrogen and oxygen, asking for some fire from the conjurer!!!!! Side tracked, oh well.

They notice miniature wagon tracks, with miniature team tracks, and are intrigued. Krzystof and the furry devil run off to a contact K has in the Polish district. Benny stays to help Silas with his thaumaturgy, and Knighten decides that he wants to check out the sewer system, to see if there are any other places that we should worry about, and even protect.

Krzystof and Kyle, wow these guys have a lot of K names. I can’t refer to anyone by ‘K,’ now, can I? Dang. Anywho, they go to a guy who has a serious crush on Krzystof’s mother. And with cooking like that, who wouldn’t? (Sorry Krzys! I respect your mother, she is a fine lady. A very fine lady) Kyle gets into some shenanigans with the poor pollock’s ponies, but luckily no one had to pay insurance claims. They find no earthly answer to the riddle of the runty ruts. (I am on an alliterative roll!!!!)

Knighten talks to his father, who is a very intriguing person, if you ever wanted to research someone. After a rather tense phone call, he gives the reporter the name of his contact at City Hall. Harry and Knighten storm City Hall, and run into the contact, a cute little number named ‘Harriet.’ They both go gaga, and try to impress her. Knighten gets a copy of the sewers, pretty easily, actually, and they leave.

The mystery team set up a time to meet at Fred… I mean Krzystof’s house. Silly me. And they eat a nice home-cooked dinner. Dr John Johnson was also invited, and he was particularly interested in Knighten and Silas, as most ‘straights’ are. I snuck a morsel or two, and I can attest; dinner was good.

Well, I am going to sign off for a bit. Silas’ account of the battle is henceforth scribed. (Woo! Another Olde English point for Tarot!) I will fill you in on what he missed afterward.

After the wonderful dinner made by Krzystof’s mother, we went to the park. The Ghouls were expected to come out after dark, and we wanted to be there. I went to get set up at the circle, and the rest went to the front line of trees.

I started to relax, to set up the mental version of the construct around me. I was ready, and waiting for the call from my companions to start. Waiting isn’t annoying to me, I find it soothing; most of the time.

Then I felt it; the familiar tug of a sentry ward. I yell to them, ‘They’re coming! Ready yourselves!’ I started to cast my spell. I pushed power into it, to speed the spell up. Krzys asked me to hold off for a second, so I just maintained the power, but it’s like pulling a kite back from a tornado, trying to just hold a spell at strength. I held it, though, till the call came. I didn’t recognize who yelled it, with the sound of power going through my ears. I yelled to my group members to throw their balloons. At that instant I broke the circle and let loose the energies built up. They shot toward the balloons in the air and destroyed them with the force of the wave. The power of the tides of change took control, and created a fine mist that covered all in the field. I felt, as if from the fingers of a phantom appendage, the mist enter the lungs of each ghoul, choking them.

Was that a mouthful or what? Yes, that was one really big paragraph. Well, Here’s pretty much what happened, and brace yourselves. This is going to be one huge string of run-on sentences. I am bored telling the story, I need to go get me some TWINKIES Dangit!!!!

Ok, so: There is a wagon that drives out of a hole in the air with four miniature horses pulling it, and a small man at the reins, probably a dwarf, who unloads an inordinate amount of corpses out of the wagon. The group spends too long deciding what to do with the dwarf, ghouls, miniature horses, and water balloons, and the ghouls came out to play. Benny runs out into the middle of the field and draws fire, while Henry and Krzys shoot into the group of them, and Kyle runs out and taunts the dwarf, who jumps onto his wagon with his tiny horses and tries to escape. His escape is stopped by Knighten, throwing a boulder from the ground upward, pinning the wagon, and Benny is still fighting, while fire erupts around the dwarf. Henry goes in to stop the dwarf from running after a punch from Krzys, and the ghouls swarm Benny, but the spell is finally let loose, letting dwarf escape in the confusion. The Holy mist seeps into the lungs of the fighting ghouls, ripping through their supernatural healing, and it seems to rejuvenate Benny a tad.

THERE YOU GO!!!!! I finished my tale, and now I am done. Good luck to the group, I am off to help Silas now that he’s not boring anymore. Ta!

Big Bad Voodoo Daddy
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Big Bad Voodoo Daddy

I was rattled from my sleep by the high pitched buzzing ring of my apartment phone. In a state of delirium I fumbled acrossed the room for the receiver. My obtunded fingers not remembering how to work fiddled with their way up the wall to the wall mounted telephone. The receiver came free from the hook. My hands too numb to hold it; the cold black receiver fell to the floor with a thud.

I heard a man’s voice coming from the receiver on the floor. “Hello? Knighten? Are you there?” The caller sounded urgent. I tried to focus my vision that was still adjusting to the light coming through the large gap in the drapes. I was finally able to pick up the receiver and come out of this sleepy delirium. I put it to my ear.

“Yes, yes! This is Knighten Foraine.” Unfortunately, there was no response. Just a lot of popping noises and then a dial tone. Rats! That could have been my next lead. Or maybe even a date.

Speaking about dates, my last date didn’t go too well at all. I had invited Holly Prichard over for a nice quiet dinner about a week ago. I met her at one of my mom’s fund raisers. Holly and I really hit it off. Our date ended with Ms. Prichard running out my door with a mouse running up her blouse and her hair sparking with smoke. As I reached the door to run to her help, I heard Celena gigglying hysterically behind the ice box. Faerie magic! Double rats! For a week now I had been shunning CG.

Anyway, getting back to me and my apartment with the phone. I was glad the phone rang to wake me up. I had slept through most of the day and I needed to meet the fellas at Benny’s library in about an hour. I showered and got dressed. I jumped into my car. The started wouldn’t start! Triple rats! I took a deep breath and then tried again. My heart leapt to hear her purr like a kitten! As I peeled away towards the Library I made a mental note to take my car into Father’s personal mechanic to see if there were any problems.

When I arrived, I found out that Krzysztof was the one who called this morning. He reported the same popping sound before I hung up. He was calling me to help prepare some holy water for a raid on a demon. Apparently, Henry’s band leader was fiddling with the wrong kind of fiddle. That Irishman had sold his soul to the devil for a few good gigs and the ability to play like a god. Benny said that the band had to go. Henry pled a case for most of the band, but Benny was adamant that the Irish band leader had played his last gig…he had to die so that others would not perish from his accursed actions.

Benny had enlisted the other fellas in completing balloons of holy water before I had arrived. As we were finishing the last preparations to our plan, there was a heavy knock at Benny’s door. It startle everyone. We all turned toward the door, all with the same look on our faces…the “who-could-it-be-at-this-hour-of-the-night look” (even though it was only about 8 at night). Benny yelled through the heavy oak door, “Who’s there?”

“It is I Silas Fugenzo. I am a time mage that is here to help you. Please we do not have too much time, you must let me in so that I may explain.”

“We are not letting you in UNTIL you explain!” Replied Benny confidently.

“Are you not going up against a demon tonight? You are! How do I know that you are thinking? It is because I have seen this future. If I do not help you, I have foreseen your failure and destruction. Please again, let me in.”

Benny let the stranger in. He was an average built man with dark complexion and permanent darkened baggy circles under his eyes as if he were lacking a few decades of sleep. He wore a white cloak, obviously not trying to hide or be secretive. In the crook of his left arm he carried a wooden drum with a streched leather head (after getting to know Silas later, I now wonder if that leather was from human skin). About his body he had other small trinkets that were part of his craft. As he walked into the middle of the room I noticed that he walked on the balls of his feet and bounced slightly in a rhythmic way. He told us his full story.

He then began to tell us what we needed to do to prevent his vision of our destruction from coming true. He and I went to the Red and Blues Club where Henry was supposed to meet the band after midnight. Even though the place was hopping when we got there, no one saw us painting a circle around the building with a bucket of red paint. Once we finished we headed back to the library to pick everyone up. All of this demon stuff was pretty new to me so I just went with what everyone was saying. I knew that my job was to seal that circle we had just made, so that the demon could not get out.

Henry was positioned in front of the building he would enter through the front door to meet the band. The rest of us were positioned on the roof of the adjacent building. We needed to jump the 3 ft alley, then sneak down to the groud floor. We did so without any problems. I was the last over. After I landed on the jazz club roof I turned around and performed a short ritual spell to seal the circle Silas and I had created. This was the first time I had performed this ability. The book that I had learned from warned me that I might get a headache afterward. I did. It made me a little dizzy. I recovered quickly and followed the group downstairs.

We snuck past the band that were all in some kind of trance. We made our way towards the basement where we heard a bone chilling roarish yell. Benny was the first on the seen, followed by Kyle and Krzysztof. Silas, then Henry ran down the stairs. I was last. I could hear Benny struggling with something big. I heard a balloon splash and a blood-curdling scream. Apparently holy water does hurt it. I raced down the steps with a little more courage from that news. I saw the creature. It looked at me straight in the eyes. The demon had an oversized head with black oversized eyes positioned slightly to the sides of the head. Its mouth was not really a mouth. Rather it was a group of four hard sharp plates that came together. Green thick spittle dripped down from where the mouth plates came together. The demon’s body was hulking. It stood on two powerful legs, that were more like tree trunks than legs. The legs had black thick thorny outcrops all over their shell-like skin. They reminded me off the thorax of a lobster, but instead of a delicious red, they were a stale gray-green. Its arms were almost as larger and covered with even more thorns than the legs. At the end of each arm was a massive claw-like hand with three fingers that ended in sharp black bony nails.

It was bleeding a greenish substance from its right shoulder and had a whole in its chest the size…the size of, well, a balloon filled with water. I cast the first spell that popped into my head. I slammed the end of my cane on to the concrete step of the stairs and muttered, “Luzem Borrachem!” Only I saw the magical flash of light. The demon was at that point blinded.

I saw the beast charge Krzysztof blindly. Krzysztof spun around using the demon’s weight and through it up against the wall. This barely phased the demon. It whipped around with its sharp mouth plates open. It bellowed a hideous roar. Krzysztof, now on the ground was trying to put some space between he and the creature.

“Benny, he can’t see!” I shouted. Benny took the cue. He pulled out his ruby-handled pistols, crossed the two hand-over-hand. He then pulled the triggers. The bullets (that I later learned had crosses carved into the tips, Benny’s symbol of conviction) blew through the open hole, tearing through the other side out the creatures back. Blackish green entrals splattered on the wall. The demon’s body slumped down into a dead heap.

It was at that point that we all noticed a quivering man in the corner of the room, Seamus presumably. The rat! The cause of all this suffering that had occurred. Benny had informed us previously that Seamus had plans to give up Henry as a sacrificial offering. This did not put Henry in a agreeable mode. He was now eyeing the pathetic rat of a man. Henry stode over him.

“Please, Henry! I-I-I was going to share with you the power. He promised me that we’d be the best. J-just think about the places we could have seen?”

Henry stood there cold and motionless. Looking on him without pity. “Seamus, your are the demon! You betrayed us all. What about they others in the band? You didn’t want to share that power. And even if you did, I didn’t want it. Its dirty, like the mob’s money. Seamus, we are through.”

At that, Seamus rose up with renewed strength. A sacrificial knife in hand already stained with blood, Seamus’ blood. His other hand was wrapped with a torn piece of his shirt tails. He lifted the knife above his head.

With uncontrolled wrath Seamus lunged shouting, “We are through when I say we are through!”

“Henry look out!” Benny warned tossing one of his pistols at Henry.

Henry in one motion caught the ruby handle and slipped his finger into the trigger. He whirled around and squeezed the trigger. The chamber emptied a cross-tipped bullet into Seamus’ on coming head.

“That’s for kicking me out the band.”

Seamus’ body flew backwards towards the floor from the force of the bullet. A pool of blood quickly formed on th concrete beneath his still lifeless head.

Silas, who seemed unnoticed through the battle, released the circle that had been protect us from the demon creature. Unseen force had been working in our favor. He explained later of the forces of entropy being used against the demon. Each move he made was slowly weakening his hold into the mortal realm…pushing him ever back into the Nevernever. These forces had been wearing him down like how a subtle stream wears away at a stone. This latent information may have pass over the other’s heads, but I was grateful for this stranger. It will be nice having someone else’s magic in the mix.

Benny went of inseclusion for some meditation. He probably met with his higher ups to report his proceedings as well. Benny did not say much after the battle. He seemed to be lost in thought, like a mathematics professor working on a large important calculation.

Krzysztof, I learned afterwards was no longer Officer K___, but Agent K___. Elliot Ness had heard about his work on the dark summoner’s case, and offered him a job.

Henry was now without a band. Even without a band leader, the rest of the band members were too shaken up from their experiences to play any more. Many would probably never recover from what Seamus did to them. Even though we were there for Henry, he seemed once again alone. I felt a sadness in him. I had a strange feeling that when he looked at us, deep down inside he felt that something bad would happen to us as well, like what happened to everyone around him.

The Big Bad Voodoo Daddy? Well, I am glad to say that he is laid to rest…Silas took care of that. Deep in the darkest part of the Nevernever, where his bones are probably being torn apart by something even more frightening then the Darkness inside of Henry.

Knighten signature

Things that go bump
Demons, Devils, the Darkness; oh my
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I feel like a fool. I spent all of the night before getting my job back because I wanted it so bad. Perhaps to anchor me to Chicago or to keep my mind busy from the supernatural that, well, you know so much about but it’s as you told me once when I was trying to kill you, “You can never go back to innocence once the truth of Santa has been uncovered”. Damn you. I itch for a drink so bad. I want to scrub the sight of that demon out of my brain.

It was but a few minutes ago that we killed the biggest meanest demon I think that I will ever see (then again I am still young). See, it had made a pact with the band and especially its leader. I hat Irish now even more. Damn fools! They set me up after a contest from the night before attempting to get back my job because that… Irishman replaced me and after I kicked the new guys but (by cheating) he says that there is a gig at midnight at Baby Face Knighton’s favorite pub the Red and Blues.

The following morning Benny calls me and tells me to get down to the church, it was so early RJ, I could of killed him the sun had barely got up let alone me. I crawled into a cab and got to the church and Benny spills the beans about some joe named Raphael and says that Seamus needs to die. I wasn’t sure that I heard him right so I asked him to repeat himself and he says that Seamus needs to die. He then tells me about a pact with the demon. Now I am not a theologian so I says, “He made a deal with the devil?”

“No” he says, “a demon”. Apparently I do not know the difference so for the next hour he explains it to me. The whole time I have a confused look on my face. Well thankfully we had an appointment at Christoff mom’s place for breakfast or Benny would of kept on talking. I still don’t know the difference. Despite the book that he showed me.

We get to Christoff’s place to find Kyle has figured out a way to get breakfast without revealing his true nature; pose as my cat. I am allergic to cats; irony huh. Thankfully he is’nt a real one. Christoff gets this call that he takes in the study and returns to tell us that he is now FBI. I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse then being police. Now I am sure that my little rap sheet of running from nuns is getting out. (Laugh it up Chuckles. You put me there.)

Any way Benny warns the team after breakfast about the demon and we go back to the church and start studying up on the nature of demons and wait for midnight to come. Well the team decides to sneak in but I am expected so I tell them that I will go through the front door part of me is scared and when I get scared the Darkness starts talking in the back of my head. I don’t know what to expect from this new pact monkey or what the demon is given him.

Well my diversion works and the rest of the gang gets into the building without being noticed and starts to check out the place ceiling to floor and find the damned thing in the basement (I know, nice choice of words). I loose the escort who was taking me to see the demon any way and see Sheamus; he’s really enjoying himself. The rest of the team is in a fight for their lives and finally when the demon is dead the leader of the band becomes a coward. It was me that put that miserable creature out of his misery (should of done it sooner with all the talk about the home country).

Clean up was nonexistent as the demon when dead disappeared. I wasn’t sure about the rest of the band but I do know that they are out of jobs. Poor bastards. So now I have no job and I am at the same place that I was last night. Should of seen that coming. I didn’t even get paid for last nights work and before you go there I am not asking for charity RJ.

Say hi to the rest of the sucking family.



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