by Bo Luellen
John pressed, “He was a generous man, but a mystery to me.”
Richard poured a brandy, “How so?”
He put his hands in his pockets and stayed steady. “For a man such as Samuel Howard to hand over his seat and holdings with Hoondo Limited Manufacturing to anyone but his only daughter, Amy Howard, leaves me with some questions.”
His host took a drink and replied, “Ever the detective. Well, that is why I chose you as the leader of the Oklahoma UCC. You just can’t help yourself. To answer your question: Yes, I have his seat with Hoondo Limited Manufacturing, and Samuel entrusted me to secure his family’s future. Amy has no talent for business. She’s content in more macabre interests, which you’re very aware of.”
Before he could answer, the double doors to the dining room opened, and the butler announced, “Amy Howard, Sir.”
John’s lover and longtime friend was wearing a red dress that fit like a second skin. It dragged on the hardwood floor and sported a long slit up the right side that ended at her hip. The exposed flesh of her leg was matched by the cleavage line, which dived downwards and kissed her navel. Her short blond hair was slicked back and accented by a gold necklace. At the center of its chain was a large pendant with the symbol of the Crimson Brotherhood.
She sleeked across the room, high heels knocking on his heart, and kissed him deeply. The moment took him. With a shove, he pulled away and cupped the medallion around her neck. He eyed her with scorn as he rubbed the surface of it with his thumb.
Richard swirled his drink, “I enjoy a more direct approach. Your Columbo act isn’t working for me. Ask the real question on your mind.”
John took out the ledger from his pocket with the resolve of a samurai drawing a sword, “When I was visiting the Garden District, shortly before its destruction, I managed to lift this off of one of the cultists. This book shows shipping and receiving manifests of purchases from Hoondo Limited to the Crimson Brotherhood. Those chemicals were used in that bombing, and several thousand gallons are still unaccounted for.”
Amy snaked around behind him and said, “My Dad’s company is international, and anyone can buy their products.”
John took a step away from her, “That is what I thought too until I did some checking. I discovered those same purchases had been from an offshore account set up under a dummy name. Luckily, my people are good, and I was able to backtrack that name. That account is owned by Richard Enfield.”
Richard’s jaw tightened as he replied, “Anyone can open up an account overseas under a false name. Clearly, this is just another attempt…”
He opened up the ledger and showed him a page, “Those are your initials next to each shipment. Would you like to take a guess at who’s personal authorization was on the records from Hoondo?”
Richard’s lip went up in a snarl, “How did you get those records! I want the name of the person at Hoondo that told you about that!”
John pulled his silver-plated UCC pistol from his waist holster and turned the ledger around to reveal his phone was recording their conversations, “You did, just now. I’m making a citizen’s arrest. I’d advise you to contact those UCC lawyers before the police get here. I know firsthand how effective they are.”
Samuel Howard’s ghost phased through the closed doors and clapped loudly. The well dressed, grey-haired phantom passed right by him and stood next to Richard. John aimed the pistol at the spirit, as his hand shook in terror.
The distinguished newcomer chided Richard, “Truly well done, my boy! He could have been holding up his diary and not a ledger. You just can’t stop yourself, can you? Do remind me, you were a lawyer, yes? You know you have the right to remain silent, yet you seem to lack the ability.”
He muttered, “Y-you’re dead.”
A look of epiphany came over Richard, as he saw John pointing the gun at thin air, “What are you looking at?”
John put both hands on the pistol and leaned against the oak table, “Samuel Howard… You’re Samuel Howard!”
The specter grinned and gave a slight bow, “I’m merely a shadow of my former self. You, on the other hand, have become something… unique.”
Richard’s turned in fury to the ghost, “How can he see you?”
Samuel clasped his hands behind his back, “Oh, yes, of course, he can see me. Our Lord Cthulhu has chosen him. However, Mr. Utterson, those theatrics will need to be dispensed with.”
The ghost waved his hands in the air and cast, “Lassitudinem!”
John suddenly felt his strength draining from his arms, and the pistol fell from his hand. He struggled to keep his feet under him and grabbed the table for support. Richard snatched up the gun from the floor and ripped both the ledger and phone from his hand.
Samuel flicked two fingers in another sign and cast, “Nullam Magicae.”
Instantly the strength returned to his body, and he grabbed his cane. His mind swirled with this new reality. He hobbled back on his walking stick and put a chair between him and the trio.
The ghost had a look of disgust on his face, “Please, Mr. Utterson, you can stop the charade. That cane must be a nuisance considering your newly healed injuries.”
John’s mind raced to his Hispanic neighbor. “Who told you about that?”
Samuel winked, “You did, just now. You’re not the only sleuth in this house. Besides, the gifts of Cthulhu grant many boons.”
He dropped the cane to the floor. “What are you?”
The ghost stepped into the chair, and stood close, “I’m a servant of Cthulhu, just as you are. The Great Dreamer told me he would be choosing an Avatar, and I can see the dark energy of The Old One on you. Tell me what other gifts he has given you?”
He looked down at his stomach and unbuttoned his shirt. He felt a surrender in his spirit and exposed his muscular chest and abdominals. Amy’s eyes lit up as she walked over and caressed his body.
Samuel looked at John’s physique, “Magnificent.”
Richard advanced in anger, “Wait! This guy! This guy is the Avatar? No! I was promised to be the chosen one to awaken the Herald!”
John swallowed hard and revealed, “One of my pills turn into a blue worm that ate into my skin. My broken bones healed in one day, and then I passed out. When I woke up, I looked like this. I’m… I see ghosts. David Johnston, an old partner of mine from the force, has been haunting me. In the yard outside, a Hispanic man…”
Samuel gave a chuckle, “Oh, that would be Mr. Nores. One of my creative security features for the house. Quite harmless, I assure you, except if you are a spiritual intruder. I’ve given him dominion over my arcane protections. Quiet useful.”
John grabbed his head and swooned, “I don’t understand. I thought this was the work of God.”
Amy took his face and turned it towards her, “Oh, indeed, it is a god. The Great Dreamer has touched you, above all others, and given you a greater purpose. Remember our talks. How we hated all of those lowly leeches, who feed on the good people of this world. How we played at the thought of purging it. The might of Cthulhu will pour salt on the leeches, and those that stand with him will prosper in a new Aeon. The sun will rise on a planet free of the decadent blight and bow down before us. You are one of his many Avatars and share of his divinity.”
He grabbed her muscular arm, “Wait, what about the UCC?”
Samuel paced to the side, “Greyson and Eastland are a means to an end. He professes to defend the poor, the meek, and the God-fearing. In truth, he is addicted to the adoration and sleeps with different women from his congregation every week. If someone dares to deny him his appetites, he has them demoted or fired. The Crimson Brotherhood is ushering in the awakening of Cthulhu with the rise of chaos. The Great Dreamer will walk upon this land and pull humanity to the brink of oblivion. Then, a rebirth can start. A new order. Cthulhu’s Avatars will be the Lords of this world.”
The feeling of power was coursing through his body, as John asked, “But why help initiate the UCC to oppose
you?”
Amy squeezed his bicep playfully, “Are you kidding? Our plans accelerated tenfold once Greyson took up arms against us. Then it was just a matter of putting the right man beside Greyson.”
Richard crossed his arms, “Whatever! This is bullshit! I’ve sacrificed and brought this State to heel. I should have been given this gift!”
Samuel sighed, “Be proud of this moment, Richard. You wanted powerful allies, and here one sits. In a matter of days, you will have an Avatar of Cthulhu and the Nephilim Miniel at your side. You will be the most powerful Sect Master in all the world.”
Richard’s expression softened, “That’s an interesting point.”
John felt something wiggling in his chest, “I feel like something is inside me. What is it?”
Samuel’s eyes flared with excitement, “You are transitioning into a living demi-god. A creature that can translate the thoughts of the Great Dreamer and have the power to ensure his commands are carried out.”
The ghost touched John’s chest, “What you feel growing inside you is purpose.”
Chapter 17: Shoshannah III
Tulsa, Oklahoma - Thursday, November 15th, 2018 – 8:52 p.m. CST
John Hamilton woke from a long sleep and looked at Shoshannah Feinstein from across their metal cage. They were in a ten-foot by ten-foot steel enclosure in the middle of a storage shed. She gave him a half-smile, glad to be rid of his snoring.
John rubbed his head and asked, “How long?”
She leaned back against the bars. “It’s Thursday night.”
His bloodshot eyes scanned the room, “Shit! What about Wapashaw’s body?”
Shoshannah let her arms dangle from the points of her knees, “They let the dogs have the rest of him.”
John rubbed his stiff neck, “Goddamn it. Clay was a good man. Well, it ain’t the worst way for a Dakota to go. Being eaten is like returnin’ to the earth, I suppose.”
She raised an eyebrow, “I doubt The Great Spirit would call being torn apart by those monsters as a natural act.”
He examined the four-foot roof to their cage, “Any idea where we are?”
Shoshannah shrugged, “Deeper in the woods. We walked for a while. I’d guess a mile.”
John crawled over in front of her and sat down, “Those animals. You said they were your worst fear. What are they?”
She plucked a piece of hay off the ground, “Those are just your normal domesticated dogs, re-animated back to life. Then add a dash of magic and poof, something terrible appears.”
He gave her a puzzled look, “I thought your process was a secret, and that your blood was required to bring something back to life. Did you make those things?”
Shoshannah gave him a sour look, “Of course not you idiot. I’m afraid I’ve been duped by a client, who obviously used Jagger to reproduce my process.”
John winced, “Sho, you didn’t? You did a job for the Crimson Brotherhood? Who exactly commissioned the work, and what did you do for them?”
She rolled her eyes, “I suppose my reputation of confidentiality for my clients went out the window when the Brotherhood stole my process and kidnapped me. So, here goes. The client was Richard Enfield, Master of the Tulsa Sect of the Crimson Brotherhood.”
John let out a chuckle then got a shocked look on his face. “You’re joshin’. The Lieutenant Governor-Elect? The right hand of Brother Greyson? He’s the Master of the Tulsa Crimson Brotherhood?”
She broke the straw in half, “Yep. Praising God in one hand and trying to awaken the Dark Lord Cthulhu with the other.”
John leaned on the bars in defeat, “Good God, Sho. What the fuck were you thinking?”
She leaned in, “I was thinking that with the kind of money Richard was throwing at me, I’d be able to stop working for crazy organizations like the Crimson Brotherhood and AEGIS. That me, and mine, could ride off into the sunset and enjoy a few hundred years in peace and quiet. I was also thinking that I don’t need your permission, nor am I a member of your homo sapiens club. Before you get too high and mighty, try remembering that AEGIS has been more than happy to pay for re-animations that other countries would have a problem with. Your species has been trying to kill itself ever since God created Adam. At least my creator had the good sense to die.”
John shook his head, “Jagger alone couldn’t have done this. They would’ve needed your blood. How’d they get that?”
She leaned back against the steel, “I don’t know. They haven’t drawn any from me, and it isn’t like I donate at the Red Cross.”
Hamilton put a hand on her leg, “You’ve got to get us outta here. You can bend these bars like tin foil. The two of us can escape, alert AEGIS, and the military can wipe them out.”
Her eyes flashed in anger, “I’m going to need you to pay close attention. A supernatural entity named Samuel Howard has possessed Jagger. If I try to escape or stop them, they won’t hesitate to kill him and his entire family. My family! Get it?”
John shook his head, “You can’t just let them create an army of monsters!”
She jabbed a finger in his chest, “The Clerval family is the most important thing to me on this planet. I’d let this entire State burn to the ground if it meant I could save them. These beasts are my bastard offspring. That means it is my responsibility to correct this, and correct it, I will. Once the Clervals are safe, I will do everything in my power to see these abominations destroyed!”
John put his hands up, “You don’t know the resources AEGIS has available. Get me out of here, and I can have the Clervals moved to a safe house. AEGIS can….”
Shoshannah traced her finger along his cheekbone. The pheromones wafted into his nose and went to work on his consciousness. Two seconds later, his eyes were glazed, and his pupils were dilated.
She took his hand and gazed into his eyes, “John, honey, I do like you. I don’t want to see you get hurt, and keeping you alive in this cage was a part of my bargain with Samuel. It seems the Crimson Brotherhood has plans for you.”
Hamilton’s spellbound face looked worried, “They’ll torture me for Agency secrets.”
She gave him a sympathetic look, “Samuel Howard is a ghost that possessed Jagger Clerval. He also possessed your body a dozen times while you’ve been unconscious. Samuel used it to call Control. He, in your body, reported you’d found nothing in these woods. Your agency thinks you’re out searching Tulsa for better leads to the cult. No one’s coming for us.”
His eyes fell in defeat as she continued, “Your super-secret organization has become his personal mole. Because they think you are still on the hunt for the Brotherhood, he has unfettered access to the intelligence agencies. Through you, he can get regular reports from the FBI, CIA, and even the local police. All because of you, John Hamilton.”
His hand quickly went to a seamless pocket stashed in the lining of his black tactical shirt. A Velcro pocket ripped opened, and he probed the empty space within. A look of desperation came over his face as he split the pocket open even further.
Shoshannah put her hands on John’s, “If you are looking for your cyanide capsules, they’re gone.”
He gave her a dejected stare, “You told them about it?”
She tugged at his wrinkled shirt. “No, but I would have. You’re not getting it, sweetie. A ghost has possessed you. That means he knows your mind. Every secret you have, every move you are trained to make, and all the AEGIS assets were his to know. Sam tossed those pills in the first few minutes he took you over. He even changed your access codes to the Agency database, just in case you got free. So, you’re going to sit here and be good. If you do what I say, not act like the hero, then I might be able to negotiate for your life.”
The two sat there silently for a long while. Shoshannah could see the wheels turning in John’s head, but her pheromones were keeping him in line. He jumped as two guards burst in the door. They were wearing the black tactical uniform and ski-mask but were unarmed. A chunkier guard held out a bucket full
of oatmeal, with two spoons sticking out.
The Texan eyed the pail, “Hey, partner. I hate to put a bind in your night, but I gotta take a crap. What do you reckon we do about that?”
The guard pointed down and mocked his southern accent, “You gotta bucket, don’t ya!”
As the two men’s guts jiggled from laughter, the front door opened again. Shoshannah bristled to life, as she smelled something familiar from the newcomer. The new guard had tanned skin and was a good foot taller than the other two. He pulled down his ski-mask, and a wave of fright went through her. His dark eyes flamed behind a thick black beard. The man’s rugged stare locked on her, and she knew what was going to happen next.
Shoshannah grabbed John and flung him back against the rear of the cage. The mountain of a man took a step behind the rotund comedian and shot a punch into his back. A thick cracking sound accompanied the force of the blow, and a bulge appeared in the chest of his victim in a mess of odd angles.
John yelled from behind her, “What the hell!”
The second guard turned and ran for the door. A massive hand reached out and snatched ahold of his neck. The three-hundred-pound cultist was yanked off his feet and back into the arms of the man from Shoshannah’s past. He put two enormous limbs around the waist of the guard, pinning him in a bearhug. The man’s bones popped, one at a time, as blood poured out of his nose and mouth. Like a constrictor snake, the grip only tightened as the cultist breathed out. With a jerk of his arms, the guard’s spine snapped, and the giant tossed the body. The corpses twitched, and fluid leaked from too many openings, as she steeled herself.
The tanned murderer took off his ball cap to reveal an all too familiar pitch black hair that was cut short. The man picked up both of the murdered guards by the belt and walked them over to one of the barrel containers. He opened them and tossed the corpses inside.
He turned back towards them as John whispered, “What in the hell is that?”
With a look of vague interest, the titan walked over to her and examined the chain that locked her door, “Why are you still here?”
