by Bo Luellen
From the forest came the legions of Fey, from the Isle of Avalon. Pixies, sprites, dryads, changelings, pookas, centaurs, satyrs, and a host of brownies, gnomes, and elves who rode on the backs of warthogs. Amanda staggered back but stopped when the Raven landed on the tree branch next to her. The company of Fey all stopped and bent the knee. Everyone except Cernunnos and Morgan bowed in respect to the great bird. Jarrah flew swiftly up to her shoulder and slapped the back of her head with its diminutive staff. She shot a look over at the fairy, as it pointed down and went to one knee. Amanda knelt on the healed leg but peeked up at the legions of fairy tale legends.
Morgan walked over to her, “Thou art set upon a task, Amanda Lanyon. If thou succeedest, thou shalt prevent the Crimson Brotherhood from raising Cthulhu and thus save your children. Dost thou accept this quest?”
She looked over at the Raven, then the company around her. “I would do anything to save my kids.” She felt her heart sink with the heaviness of the moment, then lifted her chin, “I accept.”
A green-cloaked elf, no taller than Amanda, stepped out from the thick green woods. In his hand was a longsword in a dark leather scabbard. The handle was braided with golden hair and the hilt molded to look like antlers intertwined.
Morgan turned and drew forth the blade. Holding it up into the air, the bright metal reflected the brilliant Avalon sun onto Amanda’s face. The woman stepped forward and lowered the sword down. The arcane glyphs in the side of the smooth steel shimmered onto her skin.
The half-sister of Arthur touched the naked blade to Amanda’s right shoulder, “When thou wert young, your faith taught thee to be a worthy Page. You were obedient, with the manners and the skills to be a useful servant of God.”
Amanda felt a tingling sensation running across her body from the metal. Suddenly, the feelings of fatigue were gone. The repercussions from the long sleepless nights of running had vanished.
Morgan floated the blade over her head and rested it on her left shoulder, “When thou camest of age, thou puttest thyself to teaching others and learned the lessons of a Squire. Thou hast shown courage and valor at the Battle of the Preserve in defense of an innocent man who was plagued by evil.”
She removed the sword and cradled it in her black silk covered arms, “Now when thou risest, doest so as a Knight of the Round Table. Charged never to do outrage, nor murder, and always to flee treason; also, by no means to be cruel, but to give mercy unto him that asketh mercy, upon pain of forfeiture of their worship and lordship of King Arthur for evermore; to take no battles in a wrongful quarrel for no law, nor for worldy goods. Unto this are sworn the Knights of the Table Round, both old and young, man and woman. Stand now, Dame Lanyon, Knight of Arthur and of the Round Table.”
Amanda stood and found all her hunger pains were gone. She felt refreshed and full of life. The hosts of Fey beamed wicked grins and danced around toadstools and flowers. A centaur brought out a double flute and played a melody she had never heard. Jarrah flew up to her nose and kissed it.
Morgan handed the blade back to the elf and took a red cloak from him, “This is the Mantle of Arthur. Thou shalt be unseen to magical creatures and impervious to spells while thou dost wear it. Through its power, thou shalt also see the otherworldly.”
She pushed the cloak out towards Amanda. The folded dull red cloth looked pristine, with a single gold trim around the edges. She took it in her hands and was surprised by the weight. Despite the heavy looking fabric, it felt light in her arms.
Cernunnos looked up into the sky, snorted out a great bellow of hot breath from his snout. Jarrah flew back away from her, and the celebration around her stopped. The Fey went silent as she heard a low thunderous rumble in the distance.
Morgan smiled, “Our time dost call upon’s for thy departure, Dame Lanyon.”
Amanda shook her head, “Wait! I don’t know where my kids are. How am I supposed to stop the Crimson Brotherhood? I’m just one person.”
A louder grumble came from the lush ground beneath her feet, as Morgan touched her cheek, “The fight shall find thee. Luck be with thee, Dame Lanyon.”
A shock wave of something exploding high overhead sent dust and debris showering downward. Amanda covered her head and shielded herself from a curtain of falling dust. Coughing from a few inhales of the raining soil, she looked around to discover she was no longer in Avalon. The muffled pops of explosives went off on the surface, as the glimmer from the jewels that cluttered the ground were slowly being covered by the falling earth. Amanda felt numb as the torches went out, and the brilliant colors were silenced.
She looked down at the Mantle of Arthur in her hands and realized it wasn’t a hallucination. The caw of the Raven shot through her like a bullet. She turned her flashlight back down the corridor to see the massive bird standing at the foot of the other tunnel. It let out another encouragement and then launched upwards, towards the surface.
Another blast from overhead sent her running after the bird in a panic. Amanda sprinted down the tunnel, jumping over small boulders that had broken free of the ceiling. She sailed past the main chamber’s pool of water and dashed up the stairs of the south hallway. Her legs no longer burned, and her feet no longer hurt. As she neared the top, a cave-in swallowed up the bottom half of the stairwell and sent a billow of dust-up past her. She held her breath and slowly worked her way to the grass-covered opening. There she found no trace of the Raven but did find a small gap where she could breathe in the fresh air. Amanda felt like she could easily push through, but she feared what would be waiting on her.
Her radio came alive in her ear with the sounds of a gruff man, “... We’ve found the opening and Beta Team is headed down. Are we sure she is still alive?”
A female voice answered, “Th’ Seers say her spirit is visible. She mist be doon thare.”
She leaned back on the cold steps and thought, With any luck, the stairs are covered in rubble. How did they know I was down here, and what are Seers?
A chill came over her from the cold breeze coming through the opening. She shivered and looked down at the regal garment Morgan had gifted her. Amanda rubbed her hand over the smooth fabric and remembered what the emerald-eyed beauty had told her.
Wrapping it around her shoulders and pulling the hood up, she thought, Magic is real. I just saw it. If these Seers can sense my spirit, then let’s put a stop to that.
She waited, as a few more explosions from deep within the earth erupted. The rock around her crumbled and she had to move towards the center of the stairs to avoid being crushed. Bringing her face close to the opening, she struggled to keep fresh air in her lungs and contemplated bolting out of her hole like the badger from the barn. Fear of being spotted kept her in place, while the explosions continued to push clouds of dirt up past her.
Suddenly, the noise stopped, and the woman’s voice blurted out over a radio, “Th’ Seers says her spirit haes disappeared. She mist hae bin buried under th’ rubble ‘n’ wis crushed. Mission pure good! Let’s heid back tae Stirling Castle!”
A rousing set of cheers came from above ground and a man shouted, “Soon, we wull sacrifice her companions tae Cthulhu ‘n’ git pissed! Come ya wee jimmies! Weel dain!!”
She rested her head against the broken stone stairwell. Thank God, at least some of them are alive!
Amanda sat there, huddled in the folds of the mantle until mid-day. With slow and careful movements, she pushed her red-hooded head up through the entwined lush green of the Highland hill. Dame Lanyon emerged from the hole to discover she was alone and free of her pursuers.
Amanda looked around, Now that they think I’m dead, they won’t expect me. If I can sneak in, and free the guys, we can be gone before they know I was there. I just have to figure out which way Stirling is.
From the left, she saw the Raven land on a small rock and caw at her. Amanda walked over to the bird and looked down the opposite side of the high mound. A small, windy road crept along the countryside, and tiny dots that w
ere cars motored across it.
A huge smile came across her face, “Good thinking! The Brotherhood has no reason to watch the roads anymore. I’ll hitchhike back to Stirling.”
The bird launched off the rock and took to flight. She marched down the hill, as the cold winds whipped the red cloak around her body. The lush green grass swirled around her, and she drew the fold of the Mantle of Arthur close.
The Raven glided past her, as she said, “Hang on guys, we’re coming.”
Chapter 16: John VIII
Tulsa, Oklahoma - Thursday, November 15th, 2018 – 9:15 a.m. CST
John Utterson knew there would be an equal chance of being thanked or having someone kick his ass if he was spotted by a police officer. The walk up to the Tulsa Medical Examiner’s office seemed to go on forever. Parking down the street had helped him avoid the majority of the less-than-friendly former co-workers.
He pulled his fedora hat down, It’s not every day that someone blows the whistle on the Department and walks away in better shape than they left.
John passed through the front door and almost ran right into Detectives Michaels and Cobb. He tilted his head to the side and strolled past. Luckily, both of them were so engrossed that they didn’t give him a second look.
He rounded the corner to the office of Chief M.E. Amy Howard, and smiled to see her sitting behind her desk. Her covered face popped up over her laptop screen and gave him a scowl. The woman had on a full-body medical protective suit with the face mask drawn down to her neck.
She pushed her chair out and jogged towards him with open arms. “Are you trying to get shot?”
He embraced her small frame. “By these cops? They’d have to take a number.”
The two locked eyes as John pulled her mask down and gave her a long kiss. When they separated, she beamed at him and then sprinted towards the door. She took a quick look outside, then shut and locked it.
Amy turned around and gave him a mischievous smirk. “You look good for a guy that narrowly escaped a house bomb. Why didn’t you call?”
He tossed his hat on a steel examination table, “The UCC lawyers kept me under tight wraps, and you still work for the police department. I didn’t want to create a conflict for you.”
She put her hands on her hips, “Oh, like skulking around the department and sneaking into my office is safer for me?”
His pudgy gut poked out as he leaned on her desk, “Some things in my life are worth the risk.”
Her cloth booties scooted along the floor as she tilted her head, playfully, “Those lines might work on those whores you bring home, but I know better. What are you really doing here?”
John leaned on his cane and admitted, “I needed to ask you a favor. Some new evidence has surfaced concerning the Brotherhood, and you know I can’t trust the department.”
Amy sighed and circled around to the desk. “If you have evidence, you should take it to Terry. He’s still your friend and a member of the Brotherhood taskforce. You should be able to trust him.”
John nodded and set his jaw, “Of course you’re right, but I need to be sure of what I’ve got before I come to him with it. You are the only person in the department that I can turn to.”
She paused for a moment. “Okay fine, but remember, I gave you a choice to go through proper channels. What you’re asking me is outside of the law and of my job. Whatever comes of it, this is on you.”
He held up his hands, “Fair enough. How about we meet at your old house, at the Enfield Estate? I have a room in the mansion now. We can have dinner and talk it over.”
He watched for a blush response, but none came, Either she’s clueless to what her dead father and Richard Enfield are up to, or she’s a brilliant liar. Regardless, having her there when I reveal Wicked’s ledger will make it hard for them to lie. I’ll record the whole thing. I’ll bring down the Crimson Brotherhood and a corrupt Richard Enfield, and the city will thank me. I’ll be the man that destroyed the followers of Cthulhu!
Amy tapped a few keys on her keyboard and replied, “Of course. How about 6?”
He picked up his hat and walked to the door, “It’s a date.”
She shot him a smile as he slid out of the office and headed down the hallway towards the front doors. Cobb and Michaels were still entrenched in their conversation over a cup of coffee. As he passed by, he heard one of them respond in a different voice. Instinctively, he looked up at Cobb and discovered the corpse of his dead partner standing in the detective’s place. Michaels was busy making conversation with the half-rotted David Johnston and seemed unfazed by the sight. His body was stiff as a board, with his arms pinned down to his side. There was an “O” shape to the mouth, and his eyelids had sunk back into his face. The dead black man looked like someone stood him up out of his casket, then leaned him against the wall. The body was still wearing its dress blue uniform that John had last seen him in before being lowered into the ground.
He rammed himself against the opposite side of the hallway and dropped his cane, “Jesus Christ!”
Detective Michaels looked at him with surprise and picked up his walking stick, “John, what in the hell are you doing here?”
The body of his dead partner slid sideways down the wall, like a macabre windshield wiper, and left a green slime arc against the brick. The body hit the ground with a thud, and a collection of fat-bellied blue worms fell out of the corpse’s mouth onto the white floor. Detective Michaels stepped forward towards John and squished into the wiggling creatures. Green juice squirted out from each side of his shoe, as the officer held out John’s cane, oblivious to the cadaver at his feet.
John snatched the stick back as a grey tentacle came slithering out of the body’s mouth. The appendages slapped down on the floor and grabbed hold with its suckers. It pulled, and the body dragged along the floor towards him. His eyes went wild at the sight of the arm stretching out for yet another tug in his direction. John ignored the detective and scooted along the wall towards the door. He let out a scream, as the head of David Johnston was pulled free from the corpse and rolled towards him.
John knocked over a trash can and screamed, “Get away from me!”
Michaels held out a hand as John burst out of the doorway. “Hey, easy man!”
John hobbled towards his car, looking back to see if the horrible thing was following him. Police officers stopped what they were doing to give him a puzzled look. Sweat had formed on his face, and he felt the intense pain of his ankle as he made his escape.
A traffic cop yelled out, “Hey, Brother Utterson! Where ya goin’?”
He fumbled for the keys to his Lexus and looked on the ground to see if the dismembered head had followed him. Five cops surrounded his car and mocked him. He scraped up his door, trying to get the key in the lock.
As John wiggled his way into the driver’s seat, an officer asked, “Did you drink up all the sacramental wine? You know you gotta pace yourself to salvation.”
John slammed the door shut as the crowd laughed and tapped on the hood of his vehicle. The pain in his ribs sparked as he heard the muffled jeers from his former co-workers. Something metal pinged off his trunk, and John quickly put the vehicle in reverse. He glared at the faces of his tormentors and peeled out towards the parking exit. His engine revved as he zoomed down a side road towards Eastland.
He jumped as the voice of David Johnston came from the backseat, “Remember their faces so you can get them back.”
John’s head spun around, and he nearly hit a parked car. He was the only person in the vehicle and quickly maneuvered the Lexus away from oncoming traffic. His heart was thumping in his throat, and passing cars honked furiously.
He gripped his own throat in fear, Come on man, keep it together. It’s been almost two weeks since you’ve seen… whatever that was in the graveyard. This is just another hallucination.
It took him several miles to get his composure back, “You’re losing it, man. Maybe it’s time to go see the UCC medics befor
e you start talking to yourself.”
He pulled out a bottle of Oxys out of his coat and popped the top. As he was driving, Utterson turned the container upside down, tapped it, and waited for a pill to drop into his mouth. Something warm and wet lumped onto his tongue. Instantly he tossed the tan pill bottle onto the passenger seat and spit out a blue worm onto his dashboard. He wiped his tongue with his hand and spit on the floorboard. He noticed the creature was the same as the things he saw coming out of the corpse of David Johnston back at the station.
He pulled the wheel sharply to the left and skidded to a halt in a strip mall. As he did, the fat worm rolled and dropped from the dash onto his slacks. He opened the car door and fell out on his back. The vehicle slowly moved forward as he tossed around on the ground and attempted to free himself of the sticky animal.
Pulling his coat to one side, he saw the tail of the little alien wiggling and its face chewing its way through his pants. He gave it a smack but failed to dislodge it. The worm bit hard into his leg, and John let out a scream. He ripped his pant legs open and found the horrid blue abomination had burrowed past the skin of his thigh. John frantically pulled at its slippery outer surface, as a group of shoppers stopped to watch the wild flailing and thrashing. An old man stepped out and looked as if he was going to help just as he felt the creature disappear under his skin. John let out a roar of pain and arched his back in anguish.
A young man in a black apron ran over to him, “Hey, hey. What’s wrong, man? Are you having a seizure?”
The Lexus came to a stop, as the front end crunched into a light pole and dented in the front fender. The crowd reacted to the wreck, as the thing tunneled its way under the skin of his leg. He clamped down on his inner thigh to block the path of the bloated animal. Turning downward, the worm worked deeper into the muscle and sent sharp bolts of torture into his groin.
