by Bo Luellen
The man pulled some dark bottles from a weathered-looking cabinet and offered them each one, asking, “Mead? You will need it before the day is done.”
They both took the alcohol as Booth added, “I suppose I should offer the high and mighty Line of Merlin a place to sit.”
Before Josh could answer, Booth opened a door and stomped downstairs. Josh shot her a glance, and then the two followed him to the basement. As they traveled, they saw the spartan living conditions in which the man existed. In the corner was a small camping cot that looked like it was ready to fall apart. Next to it was a makeshift work desk that was made of a water damaged plywood card table. A rusty metal chair was positioned beneath it, and the surface had a computer running YouTube on a browser. It was rerunning the Chief of Police’s speech, as Booth sat down on the cot and took a long draw from his bottle of mead.
Booth gestured to the dirty mat beneath their feet and offered, “Have a seat.”
The guests plopped down. Amanda smelled the contents of her bottle, then pulled back instantly. It had the aroma of sulfur, and burning rubber assaulted her nose and watered Amanda’s eyes. Booth gave a wicked grin as he took a long drink of the mead. The competitiveness in Amanda came out and she upended the bottle to Josh’s astonishment. To her surprise, it tasted like honey but with a light, crisp flavor.
Josh pointed at Booth’s monitor and advised, “These people that did this aren’t just terrorists, they are cultists called the Crimson Brotherhood. We believe they may be responsible for hundreds of disappearances in Tulsa. Have you heard anything or do you know something that could help us avoid further loss of life?”
Booth dug around in his belly button until a black mass of lint came out, and he replied, “This house was owned by my parents. After they died, it was mine. I sell mead, grow herbs, and offer assistance to the sick to pay for food and utilities. I’m disconnected from the world and have been happy to stay that way. People tell me things because I’m someone they can count on to keep matters private. Supposing something about the Brotherhood came my way, why would I risk my sanctuary for you or anyone else?”
Amanda lost her patience and roared, “Look, we’re trying to save lives! If you could kindly point us in the direction of the nearest murderous cult, we can let you get back to being gross!”
The Druid belched and gave a deadpan reply, “Oh, you mean Christians? Yes, well, they are active all over the mid-south. You just missed the genocide of the Native American people and the decimation of over fifty of their individual languages and religions in the name of their Hebrew God.”
Amanda shook her head and retorted, “Yes, the Christians have committed atrocities, but they’re not a cult. The Crimson Brotherhood are committing great acts of evil in the name of a pagan god.”
Booth regarded her with an emotionless stare and asked, “You’re a doctor? Did I hear that, right? What kind of doctor are you?”
The mead was starting to hit her as she answered, “I have a Ph.D. in Psychology and Theology.”
The Druid crossed his legs and arms and added, “I see. Since I don’t have a degree in Theology, would you help me with the definition of what a pagan is?”
Amanda appeased, “Paganism is a religious belief that differs from the main cultures of the world.”
The Druid leaned forward, asking, “What did you think would happen when you label any worship system that differs from your own as contemptable and undesirable? The Taliban, Al-Qaeda, Hamas, the Muslim Brotherhood, and the Crimson Brotherhood are all militarized expressions of various religious beliefs that don’t fit your Christian model. You’ve smacked the snake on the head, and now the serpent has slithered into America to strike back. So, you want me to stick my arm in the snake's den for you?”
Josh rolled his eyes and exclaimed, “Look, we don’t have time for this! There are two dead police officers and one in critical condition. The police have no idea what they are up against with this cult!”
Booth slid down and asked, “You want answers? Fine, I know someone who can give you them, but it will be dangerous. Sometimes he doesn’t want to listen.”
Amanda put down her bottle and replied, “Looking forward to meeting him.”
A grin came across the dirt-caked face of the Druid as he remarked, “Oh, Christian. Do you really?”
Booth pulled an old Superman lunch pail from under his bunk, that was rusted on the edges and had part of the handle missing. He popped it open to reveal a large assortment of mushrooms and other psychedelic drugs. He withdrew a full ounce of weed and a pipe, then began loading it.
As he stuffed the device's chamber, Booth commented, “You gave a very bigoted answer to my question of what is a pagan. The more accepting answer would have been to simply say, a religion. Cults are small groups that worship a god or an object. The worship of Cthulhu is not so different than any other religion. Mr. Dyer, you might be from the Line of Merlin, but your esteemed associate seems biased towards other faiths. You both operate as if gods care if there is good or evil in this world. You’re arrogant enough to think they could whittle down their divine consciousness into something digestible to humanity. Then you dare to believe you’ve stumbled up the real true god, and what luck, it just happens to be the one you picked out because a friend asked you to come along one Sunday morning. The irony is, the puppet masters who designed religion are counting on the shallow, fearful, zealots to follow their laws.”
Amanda spat back at him, “You’re not going to confuse me. There is only one God!”
The Druid lit the pipe, took a drag from it, and replied, “Cthulhu is an ancient god, an Old One. Its reasoning is beyond mortal understanding. The pantheon it calls its kin are from dimensions that stretch out over the galaxy and exist in several layers of time at once. The great Cthulhu of this time and plane of existence sleeps under the Pacific Ocean, waiting to be awakened when the chaos on this planet is at its peak.”
Amanda let out a little laugh saying, “Wait, are you saying you believe Cthulhu actually exists? A giant squid man with wings. That’s your belief?”
Booth let out a puff of smoke and replied, “You think a living deity isn’t possible? What would Jesus think of that blasphemous attitude of yours?”
He put a piece of something brown in the pipe and handed it to her as she asked, “You want me to get high on pot? Now? With everything at stake?”
The half-dressed man answered, “It’s not pot, its DMT.”
Josh began to protest when Booth shouted, “If you want to meet the person who has the answers, you’ll do this first! Otherwise, get out of my house and good luck with the Brotherhood.”
She took the pipe from his hand and confirmed, “If I do this, you’ll do more than give us a phone number. You’re going to tag along.”
He stared back at her and replied, “You do this, and you speak to the one that has the answers, if he speaks to you that is, you’ll have my help.”
She looked at Josh, who asked, “When was the last time you did DMT?”
Amanda shrugged and gave a nervous smile as she replied, “With you, back in college. It’s like riding a bike, right?”
He touched her arm and assured, “You don’t have to do this. We can leave right now.”
The Professor looked over at Booth’s stone expression and replied, “If I don’t, and this psycho can actually lead us somewhere, then that would be on my conscience. I’m doing it.”
Thomas took out a turtle shell rattler and shook it as Josh told her, “I’m right here for you.”
As Amanda put her mouth up to the wooden pipe and inhaled, she thought about her kids, Larry, Eastland College, Henry Jekyll, John Utterson, and Terry Johnston. Amanda drew another long hit into her lungs as she concentrated on the Crimson Brotherhood, the missing homeless, the bombing and the death of Lewis Turner. A white cloud billowed from her nose as the world shifted, and the muscles in Amanda’s legs and arms refused to move. The concrete walls of the basement exploded int
o changing patterns that assaulted her eyes. The ceiling became a kaleidoscope of motion so detailed that she thought a few of the panels might hit her face.
Seven golden pyramids poked up through the floor, cracking the concrete as they lifted and then stopped after reaching four feet in height. All along their shiny yellow exterior were carved Egyptian hieroglyphics that she didn’t recognize. With a metallic hiss of steam, the tops of each of the structures split open and bloomed outwards, as each of the seven pyramids shifted to a shiny black color. Six of the monuments revealed a different miniature animal that turned to face her, while the seventh had a flame spring to life that illuminated the room in a red, amber glow. Amanda felt a quick panic come over her chest as she looked at each tiny beast in turn. She saw a wolf, a shark, a rat, a bat, a wild boar, and a lizard all gazing back at her. A pack of diminutive dogs ran from behind each of the pyramids and scattered around the floor. In a few seconds, seven dogs for each of the structures settled into a seated position and looked up towards the ceiling. Amanda noticed that each of the canines was of a different breed ranging from a Saint Bernard to a tiny Pomeranian.
A six-foot circle of concrete floor crumbled downward and fell away and was replaced with a white light that beamed upwards. The brilliance was almost overwhelming, as the intensity burned into Amanda's mind. From the middle of the luminescence rose a set of giant deer antlers which grew out of the head of a muscular looking man. She counted fourteen points on the horned crown and from each hung three iron rings that jingled a peaceful melody. Her gaze fell upon the handsome face of a young man with the eyes of a wizened elder. A pine green beard of vines flowed down onto his bare chest, as butterflies danced around his head. His legs were that of large brown goats, and ended in a pair of black cloven hooves. A coin purse was strapped to his hip by a long leather cord. On his back was a quiver full of crooked arrows with leaf fletching. In the Fey's hand was a massive oak bow that was decorated in golden feathers.
He stepped out of the glowing hole from which he sprang, as a grey wolf the size of a horse emerged to stand at his left flank. To his right, a thick green snake slid out of the portal, around his brown fur leg and up his inner thigh. It slithered past his stomach, brushing against his manhood on its way up, and curled around his bow arm. His appearance was almost demonic, with sharp feline-like eyebrows and pointed ears. The creature depicted everything the Pentecostal Church had indoctrinated her to fear. It was devilish in form and symbolism, and yet she was inexplicably drawn to the man. Its cat-like eyes focused in on her own, and Amanda felt a warmth between her legs. It took two giant steps over the surrounding pyramids and leaned down until its face was mere inches from her own. Without thinking, she reached up and touched his barreled chest, drawing her fingers along the tanned skin. Touching his skin caused a wave of sunlight to emanate from the trail her fingers made. A rush of a climax forced her backward away from the god-thing and nearly knocked her over.
As she lay on her back, legs sprawled out at odd angles, the man’s voice penetrated her chest and tickled the center of her forehead, saying, “What brought you here?”
Her body shook with the intensity of the orgasm as she struggled to find her tongue. The Horned Man stood back up and waved a hand over the wolf at his side. The beast collapsed onto the ground, and its flesh dissolved into ash that whipped into a small vortex. In its center, she could make out a vision of her married to Josh Dyer, and at their side were three blonde children wearing uniforms of a private school she didn’t recognize. In a flash, the conjured image of an alternate life faded, as the twisting dust devil dissolved and blasted into gusts of air. The Green Man looked at her expectedly as she managed to bring herself back up to a seated position.
She remembered his question and answered, “I’m here because I married Larry instead of Josh. He is an atheist, but still someone my faith would better accept. Because I didn’t allow myself to become challenged by Josh’s path and refused to fulfill my own needs. I’m here because I played it safe.”
The giant's corded muscles rippled as he squatted down on his goat legs and let out a hot blast of air from his exquisitely sharp nose onto the snake that held tight to his forearm. The serpent turned to smoke and surrounded Lanyon in a thick cloud that smelled of sweet lily. Amanda’s heart grew fast, as its exhale brushed against the skin of her cheek and blew her hair back. Inside her mind, she heard the word “Cernunnos” and her skin tingled as if she was getting the strongest goosebumps she had ever experienced.
As she absorbed the mental telepathy, the Horned Man shifted his form into that of a giant stag. Green plants and trees grew up all around her in the basement, covering the pyramids, binding the tiny creatures that surrounded them and dotting out the brilliant light that emanated from the portal in the floor. It was nightfall, and the ceiling had been replaced with the celestial bodies of the cosmos. She smiled as the stars twinkled a rhythm that sounded out her name, and Amanda felt a sense of calm come over her.
She lowered her head to find the rest of the basement had been replaced by a thick forest. Twenty yards away was the massive buck, as it walked out towards a grouping of vehicles that was parked just outside of three cabins. Lanyon was able to concentrate enough to make out that the various Jeeps and SUVs had Oklahoma license plates. There were dozens of robed figures carrying torches and standing around one man who wore an octopus-like mask. Tied to a pole in the center of the gathering was the naked and beaten Henry Jekyll. Her student was barely conscious, as one of the black-clad cultists strapped his hand to a wooden block with a pure white rope. She felt a rush of anxiety, as the cultist raised a rolling pin and slammed it down on the young man’s wrist. Henry raised his head up and screamed in pain. His eyes burned a deep red glow, as salt and pepper wings sprouted out from his back and then dissolved back into nothingness.
The cephalopodic-headed man left the center of the circle and stood in front of the advancing stag. The masked figure chanted in a language that she didn’t understand, and a pair of glowing white wings slid out from under his dark robes. The great buck let out a challenge that echoed throughout the forest, causing the trees around them to tremble and loose branches to fall to the ground. Amanda held her ears, as the cultists all did the same except the white-winged leader, who revealed a sizeable spiked mace from under the folds of his cloak. With two great strides forward, it brought the heavy weapon down upon the skull of the majestic stag.
She let out a mournful cry, as the Green Man hit its knees and then toppled over. Clear water ran out from the wound in its head, and vegetation grew at a rapid rate anywhere the liquid touched. As the cultists started their chanting again, she glanced down at the license plate of the closest vehicle. With a raised voice, Amanda repeated the tag number like a mantra as the vision faded back into the drab basement of Thomas Booth.
Josh was rubbing a wet cloth on her forehead and asking, “Mandie, can you hear me? Mandie!”
She sat up slowly and replied, “I’m fine. Did Cernunnos give you any information while I was under?”
He gave her a smirk, “No, but you did.”
He held up a scrap piece of paper with a scribbled series if numbers and letters hastily penned onto it as he added, “You kept repeating it. What does it mean?”
Booth came downstairs with a coffee cup in one hand and a pair of pants in the other as he commanded, “Here, drink this.”
Amanda reached up, took the cup, and asked, “What is it?”
He sat down on his cot and replied, “Tea with a few herbs in it. On a scale of 10 to the poison you call soda, it is a 10. Drink it. It will help you center yourself faster. Oh, and you might want to clean up and put these pants on. You shit yourself while you were under. There is a shower at the top of the stairs, first door on the left. I don’t keep towels; I prefer to air dry.”
In a flash of embarrassment, she snatched the pants and quickly worked her way upstairs. The shower took a few minutes to get her clean, and to no surprise,
Booth didn’t have any hot water. The chilly shower felt good in the heated greenhouse Booth had created in his home. She took a few moments longer than she should have to stand under the water and collect her wits. Afterward, Amanda threw her pants in the trash and donned Booth’s stonewashed jeans. Amanda shuddered as she found more than its fair share of concerning stains in troublesome locations.
She thought He might be a holy man, but his house looks like a staph infection factory.
Amanda described everything the Green Man had shown her, but carefully omitted the parts about Josh and the orgasm. She hoped that it had just been in her vision and that she hadn’t said that part out loud, too. Josh and Booth listened to her earnestly as the Druid put on a shirt and coat.
Once she was done, he announced, “Well, he’s not dead, but his divination was blocked and destroyed by this squid-masked asshole. He is a forest god that has influence over animals, life, and the underworld. I’ve tried for decades to connect in a meaningful way with The Horned God, Cernunnos. You sit your ass down and get a direct line to him. I might hate you, but if Cernunnos came to you, then it was a teaching moment. Not just for you, but those that are caught in this web of events. If Cthulhu is screwing with his domain, then helping us is very possibly in line with his own goals.”
Amanda called Utterson and reported, “I’ve got a lead on the location of the Brotherhood. I’m giving you a tag number of someone I believe is in their organization. Track that person down, and you find the cult One more thing. I believe their base is somewhere rural and secluded.”
The detective seemed re-energized as he asked, “That’s great, Professor! This will get our team back working shoulder-to-shoulder with the FBI. How did you come by this information?”
Amanda went silent for a second and then replied, “A private informant. Just tell me what you find as soon as possible. I’ll see what else I can dig up.”
Utterson gave a hurried, “I’m on it. Get back to me when you know more. Talk to you later. Oh! Amanda… nicely done.”
