Session 11 - Marcus’ Journal

Carter and I decided our first stop was to be the apartment of De La Luz.  We decided that today had yielded enough sour fruit, the morning was going to be the best time for our next expedition out in this city of strangers.

The morning came too quickly, I had spent the night familiarising myself with my new firearm, I had seen these before during my time in war and after, a common enough pistol in America, it was not completely alien to me, and was lighter and more concealable than my Webley, something I was thankful for.

Carter spent his evening doing what he always did, drinking.

We headed to the apartment building early, approximately 9am, it was a small square design, its central courtyard littered with toys of children living within, its grass overgrown and wild, washing and rugs hanging from balconies on all three levels.

De La Luz was number 18, the third floor.  Carter and I moved up the flights of stairs to be met by two elderly gentlemen sitting outside number 17.  Carter was slightly unnerved by this, his experience forcing him to think the worst of them.  Elena who had barely left our side, walked up to them freely, engaging with them fluently as if addressing her own neighbours.

Rosaria as they all knew her, this was her first home when she moved to Mexico City, only left the premises in a rush a fortnight ago according to these men, both were busy discussing her beauty and music when out of apartment 17, one of these men’s wives appeared.

A screaming match erupted for a moment between the two before the man who was clearly her husband withdrew back inside the apartment.  Elena, forever forward in her approach, began engaging the woman in conversation.  While Carter and I had no idea what was being said, according to this woman, Rosaria and her were close, it was only upon the arrival of the American Brooks that things within the apartment became strange.

Parties going late into the night, arguments at all hours and quite obvious noises of an intimate nature echoed from the apartment.

All in all, everyone seemed glad that Rosaria had relocated.

After Elena had concluded her conversation with the woman, she explained that we were going to enter the apartment of Rosaria, not showing much care the woman returned to her own home.  Carter was the first to test the door, unlocked.

We entered cautiously, even though we were told that there were no occupants, something about this place seemed off.  We were met by a short corridor with a single door on each side, Carter took the right, myself the left.  I entered what was the bedroom, something had happened here.  At first glance, everything looked as though it had been ransacked, but upon closer inspection, it was clearly the work of someone packing in a hurry, clothing was everywhere, draws fully removed from their dressers, wardrobes empty and the bathroom was the same.

Carter was standing in the lounge area when I found him, staring at the wall of photographs, a single blank space could be seen, a single missing picture.

When at stood at his side, I noticed every picture had been defaced, men stood proud in the presence of a woman we could only assume was Rosaria, her face however had been scratched out, every photograph depicting the horrid remains of what seemed to be a beautiful woman.

After conducting a more thorough search of the bedroom, a love letter rested under the pillow of the bed, addressed to Rosaria from Brooks, his return address stamped on the envelope.

Nothing else could point me in any other direction, clearly anything of value to us had been taken in the rush of relocation by the former occupant.

The photos had a strange effect of Carter, he pulled a single portrait from its frame and seemed to stare at it endlessly, all the way down the stairs until inside the car.

We were heading to Brooks’ address, 64 Rio Tigris Mexico City.

We decided it best to sit and wait before making enquiries, it was clear to us that if Brooks was still living at this address, the penthouse of a modern building surrounded by bustling business, that there would most likely be people coming and going of American appearance.  We waited all day, patiently, looking for that person that did not quite belong, some sort of lead to Brooks.

The day passed with minimal eventuality, the only strange people on the street were the two Americans sitting conspicuously in a car on the street, us.

As dusk began to fall on over the city, we decided to call it a night, we began driving in a lap around the tall apartment building just to make sure there was nothing we missed before we headed back to the hotel.

To our surprise, at the rear of the building, a small alley revealed itself, dumpsters littered the walls and a long fire escape heading up all 10 floors of the complex.

Elena hit the brakes as we gazed into such an obvious access point that we had both missed.

We instructed Elena to park around the corner as Carter and I exited the car, Carter throwing his duffle bag over his shoulder as we both sped off down the alley.

I gave Carter a leg up as he scrambled for the lowest ladder, grasping it he climbed as fast as he could to the first landing, lowering it for me.  Once on the landing I retracted it as to remove any sign of our passing.

Looking up we began our ascent of the building carefully dodging open windows and lights revealing occupants inside.

We reached the top of the fire escape at level nine, in front of us was a single ladder leading to a small balcony of the penthouse.  Carter handed me his duffle bag, the shotgun we had acquired poking out of each end.  He began carefully climbing, he peered briefly over the edge before jumping over the ledge and appearing at the top of the ladder, without thinking I tossed the shotgun to him, catching it perfectly like something we had planned he disappeared back over ledge as I began my climb.

Once atop the ladder I was met by a small courtyard, its walls lined with a long birdcage from floor to ceiling until the doorway to the penthouse revealed itself.  Carter began to work on the lock as I inspected the birdcage.  It was filled with long black feathers, longer than that of your average crow or raven, scattered around was also several other feathers, grey with red tips.

I sat on my haunches looking at the base of the cage, bones, small yet sturdy, resembling human bones, human fingernails, they were human finger bones.

From behind me I hear a strange bird call.  Spinning on my heal, on the ledge of the roof stood a large black bird, at least twice the size of a crow, its call deformed in some way.  I approached the bird that seemed unmoved by my advance.  I looked at the bird closely, inspecting all of its features in the failing light.  I took one of Carters coats from his duffle, holding it in both hands between myself and the bird, as I got close, it let out another strange noise and flew to the top of the birdcage next to where Carter was working on the door.

I looked up at the bird, horrified I saw that this bird had no beak, but rather yellow, rancid teeth concealing a small almost human mouth dripping some sort of pus like fluid.

I swiped at the bird with the coat, it flew off into the sky as Carter finally managed to open the door.

We entered quickly, almost too quickly, as if the bird had forced us the move at haste.

From the entrance we found ourselves in the kitchen, a well maintained and orderly design.  Its tiled counters, walls and draws making it appear very modern.

Carter moved in deeper progressing down a short hallway into the main living area, I stumbled around the kitchen for a moment, I noticed everything here was in pairs, settings for two, no more.  I joined Carter in the living area as we parted and began searching the suite, to our surprise it was almost immaculate, the light sprinkle of dust revealing that this place had not been lived in for at least a week, maybe two.  Carter moved to the front door where a large envelope was laying on the floor, he tucked it into his jacket without looking at its contents, he was clearly still a little rattled by the strange bird and the difficulty he had opening a simple lock.

I moved into the bedroom and bathrooms in turn, to my surprise I found cotton buds in the trash, all seemed stained with a strange orange fluid, thinking on it more, it was the same fluid in appearance as the message smeared all over Cortez’s bathroom mirror.

Continuing our search, we discovered small used glass containers of what we know as nectar, complete with an eye dropper device used for what we could only guess was consumption.

Satisfied that there was very little here to aid us in our investigation we decided to withdraw, we had seen enough of the former lives of these two people, it was what they were up to now that made both Carter and I inquisitive.

We exited out the same way we came, back to the rear patio area of the ceiling.

We were greeted by the large black bird perched above the door frame.  Carter jumped at how close it was to him.

The bird flew into the closest cage as Carter jumped, like a dog expecting its evening feed, the bird acted in a similar manner.  Without thinking I latched the cage shut to seal the bird inside.

Carter moved next to me to inspect the bird, its cracked teeth proving enough to make him gag more than once.  As he stooped to gasp for air, Carter brought my attention to the floor boards the cage was on.  Large metal scratch marks in the wood, signs of repeated and constant use.  Looking closely behind the cage we saw something strange, a thin outline of a door, right behind where this fowl bird was perched.

Carter took to his duffle bag and drew a crowbar from within.  Unlocking the cage, he stepped inside swinging wildly in an attempt to silence and destroy this creature.  After a couple of minutes, the bird proved too fast and Carter withdrew panting.

I grabbed the coat I had previously held in front of me when advancing on the bird and stepped into the cage.  I raised the coat as to be between me and this creature, when no more than a foot away and the bird confused at my approach, I flung the coat over it, trapping it in darkness as Carter handed me the crow bar, without thinking I continued to bash the creature until all noise stopped and the only sound left was the mashing of flesh into solid wooden floor boards.

I stuffed the bar back into the duffle bag as Carter and I both dragged the cage away from the concealed door.

Carter worked the key hole of the door until it creaked open, inside we both stood shocked, a room that had clearly been renovated from a study into this new abomination.  On the far wall was a large wooden altar, atop it stood many well burnt candles, a shrine ofsorts to the “mouth”.  Hanging from the wall above the alter was the record that Carter and I had heard playing at Trammell’s mansion in Los Angeles, still in its cardboard sleeve.

On the left was a slender yet bare bookcase, the few books that filled its shelves drew my interest.  Looking closer at them they were all to do with Folk lore and native American Myths, Culture and Music.  Several volumes however related to Mexican Folk music, something I thought would be worth a brief read to better understand the origins of this bizarre music we had been exposed to.  Some other books caught my attention, works by Rupert Mulholland, from my rough translation of their covers I could make out that there were books regarding something known as the Womb of the Stone, gibberish to me know as my Hungarian was poor at best.  I put all the books I could fit into Carter duffle, something mad me sure I had to read them.

Next to the bookcase was a large desk that Carter had begun rifling through, loose paper and scribbled notes turning up very little of import.  Above the desk however, all around us on ever wall were scratched marks, orange smears and drawn symbols, analysing them as best I could, they all repeated the same message or words, “Mouth”, “Song”, “Light”.

A large mural dawn into the blank wall revealed a large mouth at the base of a mountain.  The mountain, unfamiliar to any I had seen, seemed to be alive with this mouth as its soul, something troubled me at this poorly done piece of art clearly the work of the owners Brooks and De La Luz.  A rough sentence scribbled around its edges translating into “The Maw of the Mouth Lies Within the Devouring Mountain”.

I moved to the Alter, I searched through it for anything that seemed important, it was only when I turned my gaze to the record hanging above me that I felt cold.

I inspected the record, removing it from its packaging, within the sleeve was a single piece of paper'

.  Staring at this piece of parchment, I felt my eyes grow hot, staring at the imagery on it, it frightened, enthused and devastated all of my senses at once.  I folded it quickly, knowing that I had found something that only someone with a vast knowledge of what we were looking into would be able to explain.  I tucked it in my pocket as I turned and told Carter I was leaving.

Convinced there was nothing else to find, Carter had one quick glance at the alter and shook his head.

We made our way down the fire escape the same way we had made our way up, once at the bottom we made our way to Elena, the hotel was only place we could think of to go after the day of tense boredom was over.

Gonchi was waiting for us in the dining room, tired and uneasy we decide to stop and see him before heading upstairs.

He had found the location, a large yellow and blue house that backed on to what was once a large house, now in ruins, two men posted on the front gate at all times, side streets leading along the ruins and branching into the surrounding neighbourhood.

It sounded like an operation we were not prepared for, Carter immediately called Frank, after his last efforts at the Trammell house, we both thought his assistance would be invaluable.

He agreed to meet us in the morning, we decided that an early morning raid was going to ensure the greatest levels of success.

Carter and I both retired for the night, Carter was drinking and checked his weapons over briefly before unpacking his clothes that he wore when undergoing these expeditions, no tie, no crumpled suit, just basic dark pants and a dark loose shirt.

I also began my preparations, I checked and rechecked my pistol, making sure that it was in good order, I loaded up three spare magazines, all that there were, and set out my old surplus garb for the morning, stuffing my pistol in my left waist pocket of my coat, the magazines in the right.

All night however I could not get the image I had seen on the paper found in the record sleeve out of my mind, it loomed over me as if a dark cloud had discovered me and refused to look away.  Eventually sleep came.

At 5am I rose, shaking Carter he too began to slowly awaken, reaching instinctively for the empty bottle that rested close to his head.

Gonchi was waiting downstairs, his eyes wide, clearly he had gotten no sleep, unsure of himself at the task at hand.  Frank loomed in the Dining room, already half way through breakfast.

At about 5.30am we decided to move, Gonchi and I in one car, Carter bringing Frank up to speed in the other.  We made our first initial sighting of the large yellow and blue house from a few streets away before parking in a neighbouring street for best concealment.  The two guards Gonchi had spoken of were slumped in their lawn chairs, clearly not doing a good job.

We made our way on foot to the ruins, the wooden fence surrounding it in a bad state of repair.  We skipped over the fence in single file, Gonchi in the lead followed by Carter and Frank, with myself in the rear.

Taking cover amongst the large ruined slabs of concrete that once made up a large house, we looked about us for any signs of a point of entry.  It was not long before we noticed the large entrance to a subterranean basement.  Its entrance barred by two large steel doors fitted with a latch and padlock.

Carter got to work straight away, Frank and myself both brandishing our pistols as we stood close by with keen eyes.  After a few moments, the lock broke and Carter swung one of the large doors open, letting it rest completely open with a dull thud against the knee high grass that surrounded the entrance.

I walked hesitantly down the stairs noticing a mass of cigarette buds all over the ground around the entrance to the basement, clearly a place where the guards would come to take a break, this only made me worry that we might not have as much time as we thought.

Once down in the basement we found ourselves standing in a large room, both Gonchi and Carter took out their torches and began scanning the area.  A very barren and cold place, two single corridors on the far wall leading in the direction of the yellow and blue house.

The room around us was filled with rubble, barely anything looked strong enough to hold up the earth over our heads, looking around, we could see one of the corridors was freshly dug, the other, clearly the original.  Carter and I made for the older tunnel first, preferring to make sure there was nothing lurking in those shadows before we looked to the newer tunnel, in case we needed to make a quick escape.

After moving through the rubble under the light of the torch we discovered that 15 or so meters in, the tunnel was completely collapsed, unable to proceed we retreated to the large room.  Kearns had taken up a position at the entrance to the freshly dug corridor, Gonchi waiting by the entrance, his body half visible by the early morning light creeping into the room.

We signalled for Frank and Gonchi to follow us, we moved to the second corridor, it was freshly excavated, cables and lights littering the ceiling, its beams still smelling of freshly treated timber.  A short way along, where we would have encountered the cave in, a single wooden door stood in front of us, to our left, a slightly smaller door.  We decided that the smaller door was the one to take, with some slight force, it opened to reveal a steps leading down, Carter and I led on, Kearns waiting in the rear to make sure there were no signs of guards following us, Gonchi tried to keep up with us, his fear evident on his face.

The steps opened out into another large room, full of sound and recording equipment, slightly round in design, the room had two windows, one at either end, clearly where the music would be recorded from.  We spent the best part of 20 minutes looking around and moving through many doors to see what lied beyond the windows.  At one end of the room, behind the window was the room for the band, the other window hiding a small room with a single chair and microphone, this must have been where De La Luz was being sat to continue her music.  Aside from the four of us moving around, the studio seemed silent.  After covering the area we found a further door leading down, we discovered another large room, as large if not larger that the first room at the entrance, this one however covered in what I could see were Aztec designs, trying to translate them in the limited light was impossible, only the familiar designs made me think of the Aztecs.  More downward steps lay ahead of us, the faint sound of music echoing towards us.

Carter froze briefly as he recognised the music as the same tune playing in the basement of Samson Trammell’s house.  We continued down, a room revealed itself to us, a large circular room with four large man sized statues.   As Carter reached the base of the steps the music stopped abruptly, as if the statues, who’s eyes were large and seemed to follow us noticed our presence for the first time.  We could see two further pathways ahead, to our left, a circular corridor leading along the same level, opposite the stairs we had descended, a second stair case leading back up.

Carter and I looked at each other and both chose the corridor to our left.  It was my turn to move first.  Without a torch I relied on Carter and Gonchi to light my way, after moving quietly along the corridor for a bout 20 meters, I came to a large wooden plank leading over a pit, a dark and deep pit.  It reminded me of the old French prison oubliette.  Looking back to Carter who was about 5 meters behind me, I held my hand up for him to wait and let me cross.  I moved slowly along the plank, about four meters in length and one meter wide, it was anchored by a single bolt at each end, not the most sturdy of crossings.  Above me I could hear the faint clinking of chains and Carters light revealed them to me only briefly.  I could feel Carter behind me, he had Gonchi by his side, both of them shining their torches at my feet.

I heard Gonchi squeal slightly as his torch light moved below me further and further.  Looking over the edge of the plank all I could see was the circular pit, its walls lined with what must have been thousands of mouths, the mouths that I had seen in the Sanitarium, the mouths I had seen in my dreams, not hesitating I moved along the plank to the safety of the other side.  Placing my right hand on the wall I peered over the edge of the pit to see a mouth of enormous size about 50 meters below me, consuming the base of the pit, one enormous mouth.

Gonchi was shaking, not being able to see him clearly, all I could see was an erratic torch shaking in the darkness.

A loud crack filled the air and my right arm was all of a sudden numb, I looked at my arm to see a small hole in my coat and my blood trickling down to my wrist.  Carter screamed at me to hit the ground, realising what had happened a dropped to my back, my feet facing the dark expanse ahead of me, my head close to the edge of the pit.

As I fell, another loud crack and the bright spark of a muzzle flash sent chipped rock from the ceiling of the corridor down onto my chest.  I raised my pistol and fired several shots in response.  I knew I was silhouetted by the lights behind me, I just had to pray whoever was ahead, was a bad shot.  Carter’s light was not strong enough to reveal my attacker to me, gripping my gun tight in my left hand and bracing it with my right as tight as the large gash in my forearm would allow, I waited for any sign of movement.  Another flash sparked and I heard the bullet fly past my face and crash into one of the topmost mouths on the other side of the pit near where Carter was also lying down.  I sighted the flash an released two more shots at it, I scream echoed through the corridor and the loud blast of Carter’s shotgun echoed as it followed the scream.  A sound I had heard too often in my life, the sound of lead hitting flesh, as a thud then followed the scream, whoever it was, they were now down.

Carter scrambled across the plank to my side, lifting me from the ground, I told him I was fine as we moved down the corridor, our weapons training on the darkness.  As the tunnel opened, Carter’s light shone on the body of a naked man, a large 45 calibre hole through his neck impossible to miss, the many smaller holes of shrapnel from the shotgun littered his waist.  Looking closer, this man fitted every description of Brooks we had encountered, this must have been the man.

Carter told me to return to Frank for medical attention as the blood was now flowing from my wound.

Crossing back over the plank, Frank took my arm and tied a bandage that made me cringe with how tight he had made it, Gonchi moved across the plank and confirmed that Brooks was the man who now lay dead.  Once my arm was dressed, I moved back towards Carter only to find him further ahead, the faint sound of a woman’s cry filled the chamber we found ourselves in.  ahead of me I saw what looked like a large oak bed atop three stairs in the centre of the chamber dimly lit by candlelight, as if the fire was somehow shroud in darkness.  Carter was standing next to the bed, his shotgun raised, what appeared to be a pregnant lady sitting in front of him.  I called to him, as I did the woman moved slightly and Carter squeezed the trigger.  Running to his side, Carter was in a daze, his eyes glazed over, his hands shaking.  On the bed, a heavily pregnant body, its head turned to mush by the impact of the shotgun blast.

I marked myself with the sign of the cross before grabbing Carter and dragging him back towards the corridor.

This was clearly the dwelling of De La Luz and Mr Brooks, well, no more.

We entered the small section of corridor leading to the plank of wood above the pit of monsters, Gonchi, already a mess was in no shape to cross alone.  I reached up to catch the chain that had been swinging above the pit, grabbing it, I slung it around Gonchi’s chest and aided him in crossing.  Carter was next, his eyes filled with a sort of vague emptiness, barely able to hold his composure.  Once he was across the plank we moved to Frank who had barely moved, his eyes fixed on the far end of the corridor we had originally entered from for any signs of movement.

Another loud crack rang out from just out of view of the entrance to the corridor, Gonchi hit the ground in a heap, blood covering his right shoulder.  Frank, Carter and I all dropped too, watching as several torch lights began to scurry about in the room with the statues at the far end of the long stone walls.

Several more shots rang out as bullets impacted the walls all around us.  Frank returned fire and without thinking, I did the same.  Carter finally regained some sense of what was going on and let fly a blast from his shotgun.

A slight lull in the gunfire enabled us to hear the distinct voice of a Russian commanding us to come out unarmed.

I replied with another shot to where the voice seemed to be coming from.

Three Mexicans came into view, shooting wildly into the corridor.  Frank was the first to scream, a bullet had struck his head, grazing his left brow, I returned fire, seeing one of the flashlights hit the floor and roll as the shadow carrying it fell backwards to the ground.

The next few moments were a blur, more shouting, more gunfire, more death, I had killed at least three of the oncoming Mexicans, Frank at wounded at least one and Carter had rattled the rest with the sound of the shotgun echoing through the rooms and corridors.

Shouting from where the Mexicans were coming from led to a single gunshot out of sight, followed by another flashlight rolling on the floor.  Konovalov had shot one of his own men.  After that single shot, only two flashlights could be seen moving, a hail of automatic fire came at us, bullets flying all around us, I fired at the muzzle flashes and hit my mark, sending the gunfire from what I could only imagine was a Tommy Gun spraying into the ceiling above the shooters head.

Silence now, I looked about me to find Frank bleeding from several fresh bullet holes scattered around his body, his leg, his arm, his face, all bleeding, somehow he was still conscious and alert.  I bandaged him the best I could, I turned to Carter and Gonchi, Carter still a mess from his earlier ordeal had sustained a large wound to his left arm, clearly a clean hit, yet no bone damage.  Gonchi, cowering in madness and fear was unscathed during the gunfight, only clutching his initial shoulder wound.

The least affected by the gunfight, I rose after dressing wounds as well as I could, reloaded my 1911 with a full magazine and as quietly as possible, began moving towards the Mexican bodies.

At the edge of the large room full of statues, only silence, no one living remained, I checked the bodies only to find all of them Mexican, no Russian.

I made my way back to Carter, Frank and Gonchi, lifting Frank with my right and clutching my pistol with my left, I organised Carter to raise Gonchi in the same way.

We agreed that I would go up the stairs that the Russian and his men had come from, we couldn’t afford to let him escape, he would only become the next Brooks.  Carter and Gonchi were to return the way we had come, getting to the car as quickly as they could.

I stumbled up the stairs with Frank, Blood still pouring out of him, we reached the summit revealing a large and yet ruined inner courtyard.  The house around us was in no better condition, rooms open with tables toppled everywhere.  I placed Frank on the ground as concealed as I could, still gripping his pistol, he was to cover my back.

I made my way from room to room, checking for any signs of movement at all.  Noone seemed to occupy any of the rooms. Most of them were filthy, apart from two bedrooms. One of these was impeccable, where we found a telegram. The other was messier, but not filthy. In there we found another sheet of paper that I was unable to read until later.  Several minutes past, no sign of the Russian.

On the air, a single gunshot rang out.  It was coming from the ruins where we had entered the basement.

I ran as fast as I could to the ruins beyond the house.  I slammed my body against one of the large concrete slabs protruding from the earth, edging my way around the corner I could hear thumping and cursing.

I raised my pistol as movement came into sight.

Carter was on top of the Russian, his knees atop the Russians legs and stomach, pounding his face with the butt of his pistol.

I ran to Carter, pulling him off the body of what looked to be a very powerful man.  The Russians bald scalp was all that remained of his head, Carter had caved the rest into a bloody pit of mush and gore.

Carter looked at me and whispered that he should be ready to talk now.

Looking at the Russian, he was not going to be talking at all, his lifeless body still in the morning breeze.

I sat Carter down and looking about me, found Gonchi, a single bullet hole through his eye, the Russian had fired the single shot, it had killed Gonchi instantly.

I took Carter to the car, surprisingly Frank was already there, he had moved himself to the backseat where he lay across gripping his head with his free hand.

It was time to get out of here.