by T. K. Kato
Despite myself, I’d almost hoped I could get through the game without encountering a real version of this thing. An actual dread of even seeing it settled over me, and I caught myself looking away.
I shook my head to clear it. What the hell was wrong with me, anyway? I’d played horror games before. I tested all kinds of games, and this was what I was here for. It was my job to explore everything the game had to offer. To press the limits, like Elise had said.
So … Here was a Deep One statue holding the gem. The last gem only activated when I killed the cultist in front of it. Did this one want a sacrifice, too? There were guards up above, but I’d gone to rather extreme lengths to avoid encountering them. Ironically, now it seemed like I actually needed to lure them down here.
Bastards.
Returning to the stairs, I peered up them. From this angle I really couldn’t make much out. If I ascended back to the top, there was no telling where in their patrol they might be. I could blunder right into them and get shot before I knew it was happening.
I chewed the inside of my cheek, standing there, thinking. The AI was good on these NPCs, at least as far as interactions with me went. So just how smart was it? I shone my light directly up the stairs, letting the beam reach out into the refinery above.
Nothing happened. Not at first. Just when I was about to give up and try a different tactic, croaking voices rang out even over the sound of machinery whirring above my head. It sounded like two voices, though they were so similar I couldn’t be sure. Either way, I seemed to have someone’s attention.
I dashed behind one of the columns and pressed myself up close to it. The rough carvings actually scraped my arms, but it was more uncomfortable than terribly painful. I flicked off the flashlight.
A few seconds later, a pair of forms came shambling down the staircase. I could barely make them out through the darkness, then one flipped on the light switch I had considered earlier. Along the wall nearest to the stairs, a series of bulbs sparked and then flickered to life, although two had burned out. The others failed to shed much light into the massive chamber, rather creating a pool of shadows.
The two cultists fanned out from the stairs, one sticking to the wall and the other coming roughly in my direction. I pressed myself tighter against the column, careful not to let any part of me protrude into the cultist’s view.
The robed man passed right in front of me, looking side to side, but not behind himself. I allowed him a few steps, then crept up behind him and wrapped my arm around his neck as I had done beneath the church. This time, he had a friend nearby, so I had to do this faster and quieter. I pulled hard, jerking the cultist to the floor. He flailed around, beating the ground with arms and legs.
I prayed the machinery’s buzz covered that sound.
After a bare moment, the cultist fell still.
+1 Stealth
+1 Might
A loud, croaking shout rang out from behind me and I scrambled back to the pillar, ducking into the shadows. The other cultist hopped and shambled forward, turning this way and that, swinging his pistol around. Crouched low, I crept around the back of the column I’d chosen.
An incredible rush of power filled me at the thought of taking these goons down unseen. They had numbers. They had guns. And I was kicking their asses.
I stepped back around and thrust my hand forward in the air. A telekinetic ripple erupted from my palm and struck the cultist square in the back, sending him skidding along the floor.
12 Damage
The gun spun out of his hand and vanished into the shadows.
I couldn’t make out much of my foe in the darkness, but his form started to rise. Given my current health, I really couldn’t afford to risk letting him close in on me.
Another thrust of my palm sent another telekinetic blast careening at the cultist. This time, he dodged to the side, not quite avoiding the blow.
6 Damage
It was enough to stagger him. I ran forward and punched him in the face, once, then again.
1 Damage
2 Damage
The cultist stumbled backward a few steps. I moved to swing again, but this time, his arm came up and caught my blow. His other fist snapped into my gut and sent me doubling over.
-1 HP
That blow alone was enough to fade a little of the color out of my vision.
Screw this. Before he could land another blow, I jerked my palm up again, releasing a third telekinetic blast.
12 Damage
-1 Sanity
Yeah, whatever. Sanity could eat shit.
The cultist slammed into a column then collapsed back to the floor at a twisted angle, clearly dead. A few seconds later, the corpse evaporated into particles.
Panting, hand to my sore stomach, I made my way back over to the statue. The Deep One remained as unnerving as before, and the gem had not lit.
Damn it.
I stared dumbly at the statue. So I’d done all this work, lured these guards down here—taken damage—and accomplished nothing.
I folded my arms over my chest and stared at the hideous thing. “Well, what the hell do you want, then? Should I sacrifice more people? Do a dance? Sing a song? Should I …”
Huh.
Back in the church, the cultists had been worshipping Cthulhu and the Deep Ones. They had chanted that line over and over. It sounded like one from the original story about Cthulhu waiting, dead and dreaming, in his lost city under the ocean. The story claimed Cthulhu would wake up one day and destroy the world. Or something along those lines.
I should have written the damn thing down. I sure as hell didn’t plan to sneak all the way back to the church now, even if they would have still been chanting.
I sat down before the statue and rubbed my head. The motion disturbed the headset, leaving me in darkness. I had totally forgotten I was even wearing this thing. I settled it back in place.
Come on, think, Bobby. I could do this.
Sure, it had been a long time since I read the stories, but I had just heard that chant this same evening.
“Uh … Cthulhu fatgen! Phenlgu mooglew naf. Cthulhu Rlyeh … wag-nag fhtagn.”
No. That wasn’t it. I knew this. I knew it somewhere deep down.
I stared hard at the statue. I knew this. I … The words came to my mouth, almost reflexively Like I felt them, as much as said them. “Iä! Iä! Cthulhu fhtagn! Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah-nagl fhtagn!”
As I spoke, a faint gleam built inside the gem, one that grew brighter and brighter with each passing word, until it was shedding almost as much light as one of the bulbs on the far wall.
+2 Lore
-3 Sanity
Another wave of dizziness shook me, but briefer than the last. I felt almost euphoric, in touch with the universe, even as I remained lightheaded.
Eldritch Power Acquired
Hell yeah! “Access menu!”
Stats:
HP 3/21
Dex 21
Might 24
Cha 24
Stealth 28
Sanity 69
Lore 4
Currency 11
Inventory:
Flashlight
Lock picks
Map
Eldritch Powers:
Telekinetic Blast
Telekinetic Lift
Telekinetic Lift? Like I could pick things up and throw them? A wicked grin spread over my face. Yeah … I couldn’t wait to try that one out.
I practically raced back up the metal stairway to reach the main refinery floor. While I had not come into this game expecting to gain any kind of powers, I still couldn’t quite contain my excitement with each new one I gained. The visceral rush of it—especially in this startlingly real AR environment—was like no other thrill I could have imagined.
Only a few steps onto that main floor, and a shout went up from up above. On the balcony to my right, the two patrol guards were shouting and pointing. The nearest one was already fumbling
with the gun on his hip. Apparently the two guards I’d dispatched downstairs hadn’t bothered reporting the disturbance before checking it out.
Typical AI. Worked in my favor, though.
I reached out a hand and tried to Force grip one Darth Vader-style. Nothing happened.
Well, not nothing. I mean, the cultist managed to draw his pistol and aim it at me.
“Ah, hell!” I flung myself back against the wall, using the catwalk itself as cover. Maybe I should have considered learning how to actually activate the power before walking into combat with armed cultists.
Never a respawn when you wanted one, huh?
The report of a pistol rang out even over the whirring machinery. Sparks flew as a bullet ricocheted off a cauldron. I ducked down, hands reflexively protecting my head, and scrambled away. More shots bounced around the metal room.
Definitely could have planned this one better.
Frantically jerking my hands around, I managed to launch a telekinetic blast that thunked into a cauldron with a resounding clang! The blast nudged the cauldron ever so slightly but accomplished nothing else.
Mental note: tell Elise to include control explanations in the menu.
Still running for cover in the hopes of creating a moving target, I turned about, desperately seeking some escape. I’d have to cross the whole damn refinery to reach the exit, and by then the cultists would surely have either shot or cornered me. Already, they were heading for the stairs.
I spun, focusing on a cauldron. Okay. I really needed this to work now. So, thrusting my hand out created a blast. Maybe … I turned my hand palm facing up and slowly lifted it, while focusing on one of the cauldrons. The big vat lurched, creaking, then floated upward into the air. The more I tried to lift my palm, the harder it got, as though I was pressing against the side of a balloon that didn’t want to compress any further.
The guards above reached the stairs.
I turned, and thrust the same hand forward in an overhand throwing motion. The cauldron pitched over sideways and came spinning down, spewing molten gold all the way. Scalding metal washed over the cultists. Their brief screams were drowned out as the cauldron itself crashed into the stairway and pulverized it.
The cacophony of that left my ears ringing.
I actually jumped up and pointed at the goons, even as a vapor of green particles rose from the molten wreckage. “Take that, you dumb shits! That’s what you get! That’s what you get! Hell yeah.”
It took me a moment to compose myself.
Spilled alien gold flowed like a spreading sea, slowly inching toward me. The workers below were fleeing the refinery, screaming in their alien language.
Just about all the damage I could do here, I supposed. Now that’s what I called completing a level.
One down, four to go, and then I could open the Cthulhu door and find Captain Marsh’s treasure or whatever else was the prize for this game.
Still grinning, I left the refinery and made my way back toward the crossroads. I encountered no more patrols. Maybe they were searching other areas having already cleared this one, or maybe the patrols were programmed to end once I cleared another stage. I admit, I kind of hoped for the former. I didn’t want anything that might disrupt the verisimilitude of the experience, no matter how hard I found it to turn off the analytical part of my brain. This was a rush, and I ought to enjoy it for all it was worth.
I paused at the crossroads. Cool as my new power was, I was still badly wounded, and taking on the wharves and the large numbers of cultists—to say nothing of Deep Ones themselves—seemed daunting. With that in mind, I wandered back toward the gorge and the sound of crashing water from the falls and rapids below.
If every stage I solved granted me a new power, then finishing one or two more might give me what I needed to get past the cultists. For now, it made more sense to consider the other locations on my map. There was the rail station not too far from here, though I’d have to go back across the bridge. The lighthouse was further away, up on the bluff. I was guessing I was done with the churches and the area around the green.
So, the rail station seemed the natural first choice.
Just before I reached the bridge, a man stumbled out of it, hand to his ribs, looking ragged. Smith. His vest was torn, his hair disheveled, but he’d clearly used the opportunity I’d given him to escape. He paused, eyes wide when he spotted me.
He lifted a trembling hand to reveal a pistol just like the cultists carried.
“Wait!” I shouted. “Wait, we can help each other.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“I saved you!”
“What?”
I backed a few steps away, wanting to keep my distance. If I had to, I’d hit him with a telekinetic blast. Bullets were faster though, so I either needed cover, or to catch him off guard. “Listen—who do you think left the door open for you to escape?”
Smith hesitated, lowering the gun just a hair. “So you were in the church, too?”
“Yeah. They grabbed me, but I escaped.”
Failure
“And left me behind.” He raised the gun again.
Failure? What failure? Had the game just rolled a Charisma check for me or something? “Come on now! I couldn’t have carried you!”
Failure
Aaaand no retries. Screw you. I raised my hands in mock surrender, conveniently placing them up and ready to thrust forward. “Look, you don’t want to do this … you shoot me and everyone in town will hear the gun.”
The treasure hunter advanced on me with a sneer, then pulled a knife from his pocket.
Oh.
Just as I started to move, the bridge trembled, echoing with numerous uneven footfalls. Enough to be a small army of cultists. Smith spun around, pistol leveled at the newer threat.
I could have blasted him right there, but given what was coming our way, I instead made a mad dash into the shadows beside the bridge. The drop was steep, but not sheer, and plenty of rocky outcroppings stuck out on the way down.
They’d be slick with water, but I liked my chances on the rocks more than my chances with a dozen or more armed goons.
With a last glance at the bridge, I jumped down to the nearest outcropping.
Stage 3
As expected, the rocks were slick and my foot slipped. I banged my elbow on the side of the gorge and almost slipped right off to plummet into the falls below.
-1 HP
I was only about five feet down now, and not nearly well-concealed if anyone should bother looking this way.
The sound of croaking shouts rose up even above the noise of the falls, drowned out a moment later by several reports from a pistol.
Holy hell.
Ducking down, I climbed to a lower level.
Someone screamed, the shriek sending the hairs on the back of my neck on end. That cry sounded not of pure pain, but of absolute terror, of almost unspeakable horror.
I pressed up hard against the rocks, barely daring to breathe, though of course no one could have heard me over the crashing waters nearby.
+1 Stealth
A moment later another scream rang out, this time from slightly further away. This one went on and on, intermixed with shouting, though I couldn’t make out the words. Poor Smith. If that bastard would’ve just listened to me … Still, I was damn glad it was him and not me those cultists had grabbed. They’d no doubt finish their intended sacrifice now.
I had neither the means nor the desire to rescue Smith a second time. He had his chance to not be a dick.
Charisma failure! My ass. I’d call that non-dickery failure.
Of course, I didn’t exactly want to climb back up there and find out if there were more cultists around. It was dark as hell and slippery down here, but it looked like enough rocks poked up out of the waters I could cross this way if I had to. That did seem the safest way to avoid any further patrols.
I climbed down another level only to find an opening in the side of a
gorge. Like a cave.
I stood there, hesitating. Maybe the cave had nothing to do with the game at all. Maybe it was completely natural. But usually places like this housed secrets of one kind or another, and I’d be remiss to pass one up.
On the other hand, it was pitch black inside and the entrance was narrow …
Screw it.
I squeezed inside, then flipped on my flashlight. Tiny streams of water flowed along either side of the tunnel, no doubt joining in with the falls just behind me. The tunnel itself descended rather steeply, so I had to steady myself with one hand on the cold, slippery wall. The path wound around a bend, then let out into a small oblong cavern.
This was rimmed with multiple statues of Deep Ones, similar to the one beneath the refinery, though without any of those wonderful gems. The Deep Ones were all facing the back of the cavern where a relief had been carved into the wall. This one I knew: Cthulhu.
Smaller and less detailed than the carving I’d found beneath the hotel, but clearly the same ancient evil, and the Deep Ones were definitely worshipping it. Suitably creepy. I drew closer, inspecting the relief.
On the ground in front of the carving, on a small dais, rested an open book. I knelt to examine it.
+1 Lore
The markings that covered the page had some kind of order, though no language I’d ever seen. Probably it was meant to represent the Deep Ones’ own alien tongue. Either way, staring too long at it gave me a headache. I flipped a few pages. The whole book was filled with this nonsense writing. I flipped further along, pausing when I came to a line sketch. It depicted an underwater city built among a reef and teeming with Deep Ones swimming about.
Well … I didn’t see an immediate use for the book, but someone had bothered to hide it here. So I’d rather have it and not need it than have to come back here. I picked it up and tried to pocket it. It vanished from my hands and appeared hanging from my belt like any of my other tools.
Easy enough.
Outside the cave, I hesitated, looking over the rocks that jutted out above the water level. As the stream continually splashed over them, I had a serious doubt as to my ability to cross safely. I might fall in and freeze, assuming I didn’t break my neck on the rocks.
