by Bo Luellen
A small laugh slipped out of Richards’ mouth at what he thought was a joke and retorted, “Oh, you guys. I was told there would be some hazing. What’s next? Godzilla is real?”
The two other elderly men got up and announced, “He is a good fit, Sam. We’ll leave you to it.”
Richard felt almost embarrassed by the scene as the pair shuffled their way out of the door and apologized, “I didn’t mean to offend…”
Samuel smiled and held up his hand, replying, “You’ve done no wrong. They are specialists, whose function is to search out the unknown. We call them Seers.”
Richard shook his head and asked, “Seers? I’ve never heard of that.”
The older man took a sip from his water, then answered, “That’s because it’s a title from an organization much older than the Masons. My son, you are being given an opportunity to join an elite group of men and women whose sole purpose is to see the return of Cthulhu.”
He squinted one eye in doubt and mocked, “To bring back a gigantic god to do what? Walk the earth and destroy the planet?”
Samuel pushed his lower lip up and answered bluntly, “Yes, in fact. The Crimson Brotherhood has been dedicated to quickening the return of this ancient god for thousands of years. To this end, when our secret cult finds corruption in the world’s economy and political system, we fan the flames until the rotted pillars of the empire crumble in on itself. The Roman Empire, The Mongol Empire, and the Achaemenid Empires are all examples of dual failures. Their first fall was in allowing greed and the need for power to prevail over its people. The second was in not generating enough chaos to awaken Cthulhu when the Crimson Brotherhood orchestrated their total collapse. When we find a nation or empire ripe for harvest, we conduct acts of terrorism and assassination to cause as much chaos as possible.”
Richard’s mouth went dry as he asked, “What exactly is Cthulhu?”
The man peered over the table at Richard and replied, “He is an alien god-being who walks in several dimensions at once. A monstrous gargantuan with an octopus-like face and a humanoid-like body. Its massive hands and feet are webbed with leathery wings on its back. Just to look upon its magnificence would cause any being to go insane. This is a trait shared by the other Elder Gods, Ghatanothoa and Yig that reside on different dimensions.”
The younger man looked horrified, “There are more gods than Cthulhu?”
Samuel explained, “There are planes of existence that hold nightmarish terrors so horrible, that no human could possibly understand or describe it. Others hold such beauty that glimpsing it would kill a mortal instantly. Beings such as Odin, Jesus, and Zeus are a few examples of rulers of their own dimensions. The mighty Cthulhu is capable of being in many places at once. One of those versions slumbers at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean. It is prophesied to arise when the world is alive with the sounds of chaos and magic. When it does, it will devour everything in its path, and the earth will once more tremble beneath its sway. Those that follow it earn the favor of The Great Dreamer, and the power to fulfill their destiny.”
Samuel took out a check and handed it to Richard, saying, “I’m inviting you into the Crimson Brotherhood. If you agree, I will be your Mentor, and you will have the life you were meant to live.”
Richard knew how wealthy the man was and stared at the paper in his hand before answering, “I agree.”
The older man turned over the paper seeing Richard Enfield already etched on the cashier’s check. The amount read, “750,000.00,” and the memo read, “Start-Up Capital.” His hands shook as he reached out and took the money.
Tulsa, OK - Tuesday, June 10th, 2008 – 8:04 p.m. CST
Richard Enfield sat on a bench outside his new Tulsa Law Firm, as Samuel remarked, “You must understand your place in our society. You are an Apprentice with a Mentor. A Mentor is usually an Elder, with several Apprentices under him. From there are several subdivisions, such as the Leviathans, The Mages, and the Seers. My boy, one of the things you need to understand is our organization operates in compartmentalized Sects. Each one is independent of the other and in direct competition. We are all dedicated to the rise of Cthulhu, but we also believe that the weak must be culled from the herd. Each Sect has a single leader, titled the Master, that ensures the safety and success of their followers. Do you understand?”
He nodded and replied, “So how do I become an Elder?”
His Mentor laughed, slapped him on the back, and coached, “First things first. We need to get you up to speed before I can officially make you a member. In the meantime, you have a Law Firm to staff.”
Richard looked up at the brown brick building, seeing his future as bright as the sun above.
Tulsa, OK - Friday, June 27th, 2008 – 3:00 a.m. CST
Samuel drove him to a multi-level parking lot in downtown and gave him the ritual instructions one more time. They walked to an area called the Center of the Universe in downtown Tulsa, which was made famous by locals due to the strange acoustics the spot caused. What people didn’t realize is that the area was an intersection of several ley lines of magical energies. It was a highly prized location for the Brotherhood to use as one of their bases of operations.
Samuel walked him up to a wall on the underside of the Center of the Universe bridge and presented, “This is it. Your last chance to say no. If you turn back now, all will be forgiven. The Master will not ask for your life, I’ll still see you at the Blue Lodge, and we will let you live in peace.”
Richard took a moment and regarded his words thinking, Risks and rewards. I like the idea of having a seat at a table with those that will usher in the next Aeon of human evolution, a promise of financial gains I could never achieve alone, and having the power to shape the world in which my children will live in. Whether or not there is actually a monstrous god under the ocean is another matter. Let them keep their little faiths, as long as I get my rewards.
He answered firmly, “I’m ready.”
Samuel led him downstairs to the ground level beneath the Center of the Universe. From there, he circled between two high concrete walls, where the symbol of a tentacled beast was displayed in graffiti on the drab cement. It was one of many pieces of street art that had been plastered everywhere downtown. To the average passerby, it would seem like another odd attempt at something artistic. With a quick look around, Samuel took out a magnetic card and swiped it across the center of the symbol. A click rang out, causing Richard to jump. A seam running down one of the walls appeared, and a doorway smoothly moved inwards. Richard’s eyes widened as he now clearly noticed that the archway had been hidden in plain sight perfectly camouflaged by the grimy condition of the wall. As they entered, Samuel gestured down the dark hallway, a string of torches popped to life along the walls.
Samuel made a gesture with his right index finger, whispering, “Do not say a word during the initiation. This process will take several hours and a great deal of ritual work. You will be asked to dedicate yourself to Cthulhu and to the waking of our ancient god.”
Before he knew it, Richard was covered in blood from the ram he had just sacrificed to his new lord, and cutting his own hand in a pact for his soul. Black-cloaked figures held their firearms at the ready in case he backed out on the ceremony. Looking around, he recognized a few faces from the Freemason Lodge, but the one they called the Master kept hidden behind a grey squid-like mask. The tentacles on the headdress were long and rested on the broad shoulders of the Sect Leader.
Samuel handed him an envelope with a debit card, a magnetic passkey inside, and instructed, “When you are summoned to the Library, you will come. This will gain you entrance. The debit card is connected to an offshore dummy account containing two-hundred thousand dollars. This is your personal account for the Sect so you can safely withdraw funds for guns, equipment, payoffs, and supplies. If it becomes empty, I will have it refilled.”
Tahlequah, OK - Friday, July 9th, 2008 – 11:13 a.m. CST
Richard was stripping down an AK-47 on the cold ground in th
e Preserve while Samuel mused, “You’re becoming a better shot each time. Your investments at the gun range are paying off. Who knew a suburban kid from New Jersey would turn out to be an excellent marksman?
Enfield sent a wire brush through the barrel and replied, “It doesn’t hurt to go through a thousand rounds of ammunition.”
Samuel sat down on a bench and remarked, “Power is in the hands of the person who isn’t afraid to take a life. The police, military, and even the church have ultimate power when they take the lives of those that don’t comply with their wishes.”
It was a speech he had heard before, and Richard mindlessly replied, “I understand.”
His Mentor got up and walked around the courtyard, dragging his heel in the dirt. The place was deserted today, with none of the usual complement of Hunters who usually populated the Preserve. The three cabins made up the only buildings on the privately-owned land. They were used by the Brotherhood’s members as living quarters, armories, and supply huts.
He rolled his eyes as his teacher ordered, “Come over here.” After a carefully negotiated journey through numerous deep marks in the dirt, he settled next to his Mentor, who reminded him, “You’ve avoided your studies in spellwork.”
He summoned up his patience and replied, “Sir, I feel like there is more to be gained in learning about things that will be of use to me. Magic, as you call it, is a myth attached to a belief. Nothing I’ve seen on this planet makes me think otherwise. To be frank, your attachment to a fraudulent spiritual path makes me question your competence.”
Samuel let out a long laugh before answering, “You wouldn’t be the first to do that.”
Pointing down at the strange drawings his boot heel had made on the ground, he reflected, “One day, when you’re ready, you will see the glory of the arcane. For now, you need to recognize Latin and understand the ancient symbols of the old gods to take part in the blood rituals of the Sect.”
A degree of curiosity came over Richard as he looked down at the markings asking, “Have you seen the Master do any of these feats of magic?”
His Mentor gave him a wide-eyed look and replied, “I once saw the Master cause a man’s teeth to fall out in a matter of seconds.”
Richard raised a skeptical eyebrow and returned a cynical, “Really?”
Samuel reached in his own mouth, took out his false upper teeth and replied, “Don’t be too impressed. I can do that too.”
Tahlequah, OK - Tuesday, November 17th, 2009 – 9:00 p.m. CST
As they traveled down the bumpy road. Samuel told him, “Each Hunt re-establishes the member as a Predator. Having a killer instinct is the essential trait that makes one worthy of a Sect calling. The Hunt allows us to exercise our natural instincts to weed out the weakest, leaving only room for the strong. This way, when the ancient god Cthulhu is done destroying this world, you will be ready to serve the Elders as they rule over the survivors.”
When they arrived at the cabins, Richard loaded his Remington 783 rifle and bragged, “I’ve been shooting deer targets at the range all week to prep for this.”
Samuel grabbed his own bolt action rifle and replied coldly, “Indeed.”
With his rifle slung to one shoulder, he followed his Mentor into the hunting camp. A campfire was burning to offset the cold morning. Some of the Brotherhood members who were busily roasting some marshmallows gave him a greeting as they approached.
At their arrival, everyone exchanged the customary greeting and added, “Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn.”
Richard butchered the R’lyehian language, causing Samuel to ask him sternly, “Tell me, do you know what those words mean?”
Richard glared at his Mentor for chastising him in front of the others and replied, “In his house at R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.”
The older man gave a curt, “That’s right, and we must take those R’Lyehian words seriously. Just like today’s Hunt, the Dreamer, whose wrath should not be taken lightly, is watching from the depths.”
After a brief settling in, Samuel called him outside and ordered, “Your first Hunt is about to begin.”
A little stunned, Richard looked around at the pitch-black sky and replied, “We’re hunting deer at night?”
His Mentor took a solemn look and answered, “No, my boy, we are not hunting deer tonight. It’s time you took on the mantle of a true hunter. You see, an apex predator isn’t some random butcher that scavenges for food or steals someone else’s kill. They are an essential key to the circle of life. They have one of the most important roles in the evolution of the species. The anointed Hunter of Cthulhu hunts down and kills off the weakest of a species. They eliminate the sick, old, and malformed of the herd, leaving only the strong to breed.”
One of the members opened a metal storm shelter door that was located at the base of one of the cabins, and the odor of feces immediately assaulted his nose. A strong looking Brotherhood man tightly gripped a chain that led down the stairs and pulled hard. The sound of a woman yelling “Ummph” came from the darkness below. After some tugging and taunting, a slender middle-aged white woman came tripping out into the cold night air. The sunken, wrinkled face of the woman appeared, clad in a soiled cream-colored bra and panties. He noticed track marks up and down her arms and between her toes.
Richard grimaced with hatred as he thought, I’ve seen addiction up close. Those same marks are on Teri.
The man pulled the woman by the wrists and lifted her clear of the storm shelter. With a commanding voice, he ordered her to stay still and hold her hands up above her head. An IV dangled off of the back of her hand. The tubing and needle were secured by a worn piece of clear tape. He pulled out a syringe, stabbed the needle into the injection port, and pushed the plunger.
The addict’s face went soft, and she started repeating, “Thank you.”
Richard’s jaw dropped as Samuel walked up to the addict and reminded her, “My dear, do you recall that opportunity we spoke to you about?”
She nodded with half-open eyes as he continued, “Tonight’s your night.”
She let out a gleeful whimper of excitement as her guard placed a tracking collar on her ankle, a 1911 pistol in her hand, and a bottle of water in the other. From his shirt pocket, he produced a single .45 ACP round and put it inside her bra. Richard watched as all the Hunters raised their hands and drew in the air with their index fingers.
Samuel ushered him over to the circle, and he joined them in chanting, “C’ ahl ‘n’gha ahor c’ uaaah ahorr’ eog.”
As they continued the ritual, Richard mentally translated the phrase as, “Our Hunt shall make us strong.” They are going to kill her!
When they were done, Samuel instructed, “Remember Stella, all you have to do is survive for the night. Once you see the sun come up, you leave here with anything the Brotherhood can offer. Once you see the sunrise, you will be seen as having transitioned from Prey to someone worthy of the esteem of the Tulsa Sect. You can ask for wealth, a job, membership to the Brotherhood, endless drugs, a new life, or anything our money or power can buy.”
His voice became somber as he urged, “My dear, you must give your best effort and validate my faith in your purpose. To give up and lose without the effort required to beat the game means you not only lose your life but also your immortal soul.”
Samuel pulled out a piece of parchment from his jacket, held it over his head, and shouted, “Ahaimgr’ luhh ph’nglui gn’th’bthnk s’uhn llll Cthulhu!”
Richard looked up and saw a shaky signature of the name “Stella,” written on the document in blood, as the Hunters gave her encouraging words and took time to show her how to load the 1911 pistol. With a shaky smile, she gave a drug-addled smile and sprinted off into the darkness.
He walked up next to Samuel and asked, “Why would anyone agree to such a thing?”
His mentor watched the half-naked woman awkwardly stagger through the trees and replied, “Addiction is a strong motivat
or.”
Richard checked his weapon and remarked, “I’m guessing the Hunters are going to kill her even if she makes it through the night.”
Samuel shook his head and answered, “Not at all. The rules of the Hunt are legitimate, if she survives, the Sect will be bound by Cthulhu to grant her wish.”
He pointed over to one of the Hunters and revealed, “That one won a Hunt in 2015. His wish to join the Brotherhood was granted. Now, he Hunts with us today. His addiction is no longer with narcotics, but in serving The Great Dreamer and killing Prey, just as you will tonight.”
Enfield gave a nervous nod of agreement thinking, Hunting deer is one thing, but this is ending a life. I’m not sure I can do this.
Once she was out of sight, the Hunters gave everyone a set of infrared goggles and brought out the Hounds. As they walked through the woods, he found the ground littered with the dried human bones of previous victims of the Hunt. Scavengers had taken what they wanted, but the larger pieces still survived, giving a hint at how they had met their end.
The scout turned to everyone and pointed at his goggles, which signaled everyone to switch over to night vision. Sliding it down over his eyes, Richard saw the forest snap to life in subtle degrees of a green hue. The pitch-black night the woman was wandering around in was no longer an obstacle for the team of Hunters.
The tracking dogs were covered with pentagrams and runes that had been carved into their flesh by something sharp. The two specially trained Bluetick Coonhounds were given a shirt that had belonged to the disgusting woman and eagerly started rooting around for a scent. Within minutes, the Hell Hounds bellowed out and pulled their handlers towards the Prey.
Eventually, they stopped for a breather as a winded Samuel told him, “Remember my boy, Cthulhu demands a life tonight. If you don’t kill her, then the rewards go to whoever does it for you. Tonight, you are the lead Hunter, and a failed Hunt has consequences that the Master must address.
He nodded and acknowledged, “I understand.”
An hour in, the lead scout waved the group to stop. As the man tugged hard against the baying dogs, he made a series of hand signals to Richard that the Prey was directly ahead. Richard and Samuel inched forward of the party and looked out into the green-coated woods. There was a single set of slightly reflective eyes twenty feet up a tree and forty yards ahead. The woman was worn out or decided to hide for the night in the high limbs of an oak. He crept out from behind a pine to give himself a clear line of sight to his target. Leaning against a dead stump, he steadied himself and lifted his rifle.
