Session 16 - Marcus's Journal

Tom, Will, Carter and I all continued our discussion as to how we would reach Bangkok, we didn’t want to fly the big silver beacon of investigation into the mainland.  Nothing screamed to the locals that we have arrived more than seeing a glimmering hulk of a plane flying overhead.

We decided that the best course of action was to fly in, however just by a different means.  We would fly to Hong Kong, then charter a small, private plane from there across Laos until we reached Bangkok.

Will seemed eager to go, having little experience recently abroad, he seemed to relish the opportunity.  Tom having been the only man to have travelled to the destination and returned, having learnt some of the local language, unfortunately his experience would be invaluable.  Once we arrived, we would be looking for a few key locations, the Island where “SS” seemed to be based out of, Daniel Loweman, who we can only believe is the Captain Walker of SS’s operation and the Fragrant Honey shop where the fights and nectar seemed to go hand in hand.

We decided to spend a few days gather ourselves for the expedition, Carter, never one to feel safe at any time, made for his usual dive bar, a place he know he could secure weapons and assorted equipment.  Tom did the same, contacting his networks of the criminal element in the city to try and achieve the same ends.

Will disappeared to his own goals, stating that he had a few things to check on in regards to his family being spirited away after reading of our exploits and being informed by Janet that is was most likely for the best.

I did what I thought was best, I headed to church.  Having spent much time over the past months thinking about the almighty powers in in existence.  Hours and days past within the walls of my sanctum.  The high ceilings echoing my thoughts like waves crashing on cliffs of reality.

Two days had gone by since we parted company, it was time to head back to Janet’s penthouse.

I exited the elevator to find Carter already half way through a freshly opened whisky bottle, Will had bunkered down with the books retrieved from Trammell’s house, Tom, nestled in a corner picking his teeth and nursing a glass of whisky.

Night fell fast, sleep was hard to find.  My mind was thinking over the countless volumes of text I had yet to read, not to mention the soggy scrapbook Tom had produced that had already thrown so many questions without answers in my face.

Morning was already blazing through the window as I was still deciding what books to take with me.  Several titles took my attention.  We were going to be in the air for a week, more than enough time to devour more than a few.

Making our way to the plane, Tom revealed a bag of large bowie style knives, we all took one, none of us had any idea what to expect, the last thing we wanted was to find ourselves stuck in a tight spot with nothing.

Carter on the other hand had produced results also, a bag of pistols, ammunition and shotguns, along with his personal favourite, 2 sticks of dynamite.

My recent fondness for American firearms led me to take a slightly worn Colt 1911 back onto my waist.  Strangely, I was the only one of us to not take a revolver, although my Webley was always loyal, the Colt seemed to show greater results when tested.

Bangkok was the wild west, recently going through a change of power, the King being overthrown and new government installed, we had no idea what awaited us on the ground.  Boarding our familiar plane, it felt like an eternity since I had been here.  Taking my usual spot, I took the first book from my bag, “The Temple of Furtea-Nya”, a strange text, focussing heavily on the Children of the night, to reach the temple, of Furtea-Nya, a blood soaked hand must touch the stone on the door of Lilies to create cracks into the gloom of nether existence.  This book was filled with 19^th century watercolours depicting altars of human skulls.  More depictions of what was known as “The greatest Treasure” a seed to what I could only describe as immortality to be driven into the minds of men like a spike, for those who are willing to experience the “Castle in the Sky”, again, a strange text.

Slightly puzzled, I re-read the book before deciding to move along to my next text, “Seeds of Forbidden Fruit”.  A text depicting Chinese practices and legends regarding the consumption of “The Feast of Peaches”, The Jade Emperor, some form of deity would choose and take with him his chosen followers.  The Jade emperor, described in strange and alien like forms would steal away the seeds of the fruit in the forms of men, their children and their children’s children.

The feast itself was to be eaten by the immortals, the peaches were in fact the flesh of the Jade Emperor, once consumed, often an immortal would plant the seeds of the fruit in the Monastery of Yian-Ho, mortals who then ate the fruit of the garden the seeds were planted in would become one of the immortals and join them beyond the monastery.

This book had some effect, the description of the Jade Emperor somehow reminded me of what I had witnessed in the Yucatan.  Something wasn’t right.

Resting my eyes briefly, I woke to the sound of Will and Tom clanking glasses as they enjoyed all of the luxuries of the plane.  Taking a drink from the bottle that dangled in Carter’s sleeping fingertips, I returned to my books, the next book on the list, “Seven Masks”.

A text collaborated of multiple origins relating to Ptolemy of ancient Rome.  However many seemed to be written several hundred years after his life and death.  Many of these collaborations depict separate individuals, however after closely inspecting each one, they seem to all be depicting the same being.  The black Pharaoh, Nephren-Ka, the last Pharaoh of the third dynasty, instigator of Cults across ancient Egypt and ruler who renounced the traditional gods before all traces of his reign were removed by his successor.  The Thing in the Yellow Mask, Leng Bao, a general of the orient, becoming separated from his forces and stumbling across a lone monastery, occupied only by a strange being in yellow s

ilk wearing a yellow mask.  Spending only a fortnight with the being, when he returned to the world, years had seemed to pass and all his men were long dead.  The Pale Death, a shapeshifting harbinger taking many forms and sporting albino features.  The Akousmatikoi Equation, reportedly discovered by Pythagoras, it was saif that whoever solved the equation would be transformed into a mask.  A man named Aniolowski was reportedly the first man to solve it however the text seems to depict him solving this equation in the future tense.  The Black Wind, located in Africa, a mask would manifest and unleash a devastating storm down from the mountain of the black wind.  The Crawling Mist, a mask that impacts your dreams, forming a thick mist that infects your mind and gradually draws closer to the dreamer.  The Empress in Red, who represents multiple figures in history, influencing many roman emperors and priests, the texts depicts that she is possible the author of the text.

All of these things sounded just like what we had found in Samson’s Trammel’s house. The Black Man, Nyarlathotep.

This book fascinated me, I wanted to read more however Will began talking to me, breaking my thought process.  Holding a stone out to me, he asked if it was mine, I shook my head only to hear Carter spring to life, arising from his drunken sleep.  Asking where he found it, Will could only explain it was lying on one of the chairs in the plane.  Carter swooped on him, snatching the stone from his hand, this was his stone, for some reason he seemed very nervous all of a sudden, almost angry.  As I watched Carter return to his chair, my gaze passed him and came to rest on the shelving unit at the rear of the plane.  Standing I walked to the wooden piece of furniture.  Inspecting it, something was here, something of mine that I could not see.  Looking around, a single stone rested in the top drawer, this was my stone, I knew it was, reaching for it and taking it in my hand, my head suddenly filled with pain.

The ritual filled my head, the ritual for summoning the aspect of Gol-Goroth, his words searing the words and incantations into my brain.  All I could think was to say No, this is not my God, this is not the real God.

I slumped back in my chair gripping my head as we began our descent into Hong Kong, the change over was fast, Frank had arranged everything, the small plane was absent all off the comforts we had become accustomed to.  Wanting to read more, the turbulence of the flight was enough to make me sick without the added stress of trying to read, doing what I could to sleep, all four of us had downed a bottle of something alcoholic to aid in the process.

During the final hour of the flight to Bangkok, we all decided to go over our initial plan.  We had an address for Daniel Loweman, based on the telegrams we had intercepted and recovered from Brookes’ house.  We also had two separate methods to enter the Fragrant Honey Shop, Trammell’s way and the mentioned method from the Nectar addict Carter and I had encountered in Los Angeles.

We Decided once we were settled, Will and I would look into Loweman, Tom and Carter for investigate the Honey Shop.

Landing was easy, for a country going through change, everything seemed quite calm, a city encased by maintains and water, rather modern for such a busy and condensed place.  Strangers to this place, weapons were going to be difficult, deciding to leave most on the plane, all we took with us were personal side arms and knives hidden under shirts and clothing.

Frank had arranged for a hotel, not glamourous, but usable for what Carter and I had been used to in our travels, the last thing we want to do is stand out.  Tom took the lead when it came to communicating, we traversed markets in search of clothing to fit in, also purchasing carry bags for all manner of gear, water, books, everything.

We reached the hotel before long, the sun blazing in the midday sky as we sat in the main room and devised our movements.  Tom told us that cars were a luxury, rickshaw was the best way to get anywhere.

Will and I devised that we would head to the address mentioned on the Loweman letters, 1370 Charoen Kung Rd, Bangkok, while Carter and Tom would head to the Pha Nakron Province where the Honey shop was located, we were to meet back at the hotel before dark, no one was willing to go anywhere in this strange place at night.

Leaving the hotel, Will and I made our way to the bustling street, as I walked, I couldn’t help but notice that almost everyone had some form of tattoo, not the total coverings of the men we had seen in Savannah brandishing machetes, but it was clear that this was the origin of such individuals.  We found a rickshaw and gave the address of our destination to the driver who spoke extremely limited English.

This mode of transport was strange, long and for some reason, tiring.  After several stops and multiple native outbursts of what I can only imagine was profanity, we came to the street.

Will and I exited the Rickshaw.  It was simple, we would walk down the street on opposite sides, keep watch of the house and meet around the corner.  This part of town was different, residential, at least an hour by foot out of the bust city and market area, this was almost, quaint.  The street was full of townhouses, somewhat similar to the quiet outskirts of American suburbia, however clear differences set it apart, the lack of motor vehicles was the obvious one.

Walking past the address, everything seemed quiet, no signs of life, no lights inside, all curtains drawn behind closed windows.  To my surprise, a Spanish missionary was walking towards me, his face showing slight optimism as he came closer.

As the missionary approached, I called Will back to me, both of us engaging with the Spaniard and after a brief conversation, we were following him to his outpost, merely a block from Loweman’s residence.

At the mission, we devised a plan, my face being more recognisable, Will would take my bible and some beads borrowed from the Spanish mission and knock on the door as I waited not for away, on the other side of the road.  Will would immediately move on, no waiting unless the door opened instantly.  This would give us an idea as to Loweman being home.

The plan was in effect, Will knocked on the door as I watched on, nothing, not a single sign of life from inside the residence.  We met on the closest corner and began to do a lap of the block, to our surprise, the rear of the house was an open yard with a slight rock wall leading to the rear landing of the house.  A two story building, yet easy traversed to access the back door.  Neither of us willing to go closer, two figures approached from the far end of the street, both local man, both chatting to themselves in their native tongue.

Will and I decided to withdraw back to the mission, as we did however, we looked behind us once back on the main street to see the two natives bashing on the front door of Loweman’s town house.  We watched for some time until they withdrew, no answer to their calls.

This was enough, he was not here, we decided to meet back at the hotel with Carter and Tom to arrange a night visit.  This should be easy work.

Navigating back through the streets via rickshaw, we arrived back at the hotel to see Tom and Carter awaiting us.  We told them of the plan and investigation we had conducted, it was clear that it was the easiest target we had seen in months.  Tom was always keen for some ‘close investigation work’, however Carter was less enthused, wanting to take shotguns and all manner of weapons with us.

After deciding it was the best thing to do, Frank organised a car for us to return in, faster and easier than rickshaws carrying four westerners.

Carter and Tom then began to report on their days activities, they had located the Honey shop after going through somewhat of a Labyrinth of markets and residences, they had witnessed children no older than 10 years old being encouraged to fight each other until everyone was bathed in blood, this was a strange place.  They had arranged for their rickshaw driver to meet us tomorrow night, as that was the next fight night based on the information Carter and Tom had gathered.  Tonight however, was reserved for Mr Loweman.

Dusk was approaching when the converted town car pulled up to the hotel, Carter threw his bag filled with shotguns, crowbar and dynamite into the trunk, slightly more than I was comfortable with.  The plan again was simple, we would park at the Spanish mission, Carter and Tom would wait at the back of the house, I would be on the corner to signal them to enter if the door was answered to Will again posing as a missionary.  Once we were in, the investigation would start.

We arrived in quick time, no asking for direction, the driver of this car, clearly learned in the ways of the neighbourhood.

Deciding first to show Carter and Tom the area, Will led off first with Tom, walking him around the block before returning to the car, I followed with Carter, we both had the feeling that this was a little too easy, however maybe that was just our guts talking, it had been a long time since anything was easy.

As evening was well and truly here, our plan was put into action, Will was pounding on the door, the only difference, an interior light shining from the downstairs living area and the familiar sounds of music heard by Carter and myself at Samson Trammell’s house.  Someone was home, and most likely, ingesting nectar.  Will continued to pound as I signalled Carter and Tom to move in.  After a few more moments, Will and I moved to the back of the house to see Tom and Carter already on the porch, ready to move into the house.

Will climbed the rock wall easily, I however managed to twist my ankle as I placed my feel on the wooden deck area.

Carter was waiting, kicking in the door, his shotgun scanning for targets.  Sounds of exasperation came from the living area as I entered, Carter was standing over a man, bleeding from the mouth from Carter’s strike.  The man on the floor, Daniel Loweman, viles of nectar on a table next to the lounge, his pants around his ankles, he was using the nectar from Los Angeles.  Will and Tom moved through the house, making sure there was no one else home before returning to the living area where Carter and bound Loweman and placed him back on his lounge.

Carter began his interrogation, violence and brutality, his usual approach, it was Tom who seemed ready to also have some fun in that regard.  I moved throughout the house, noticing its cleanliness first of all, it was spotless, nothing out of place, moving to the office located upstairs, the only thing strange was a small clay oven full of ash, something seemed wrong, this had no business in an office. Only a few other items were of interest, some letters, a few telegrams and some kind of ledger, regarding the funding of expeditions all over the world. The only other questionable thing was a small, locked trunk under the bed, calling for Tom and Will, they hauled it downstairs, clanging as they walked, glass was the only thing that could be hear inside.

Returning to Carter downstairs, it was clear Loweman was not willing to talk, not even after Tom and Will had both had a free shot at Loweman’s jaw, he was still not willing to talk.  Carter pried open the box from under the bed, full of nectar viles, Green, Orange and Blue, a simple not on top.  The green was from the local dealer named “Thawi”, specialising in aggression.  The orange, clearly Loweman’s favourite, Los Angeles, hence his pants down appearance, the third, blue, the note suggesting a cheaper nectar manufactured in Malta, also for sexual use.

Loweman was furious that we had disturbed his private supply, however his lips only began to loosen when I started picking up the viles on the table next to the lounge, smashing the first, he began to talk.

“SS”, Savitree Sirikhan, the name on the note in the box of nectar, that was her.  Loweman was the banker, he had travelled across the globe, everywhere from Egypt to China, all in search of whatever it is they seek.

Detailed taxation reports of Ko Kruk Island, where we believed SS to be based, as I picked up the second vile, there were hardly any secrets to tell.

Satisfied with what we had learned, Carter hit him again to put him out, the rifle butt of his shotgun now smeared with blood and the imprint on teeth before they were strewn all over the floor.

We returned to the hotel, the papers and information from Loweman giving us a new point of investigation.  I had refrained from causing the man any physical pain, I knew now that Tom was more than happy to take up arms, something I had never been comfortable with, only out of necessity and personal survival had I done what I had to in Mexico, Los Angeles and the Yucatan.

The day past quickly, we all knew that tonight was the potential danger, entering the fight club with little to no understanding of what we were going to encounter was a difficult thing to face. Will seemed to be the most anxious, despite his previous enthusiasm, the thought of the brutality we could be witnessing made him sweat more than I expected.

We decided that Will and I, being the two least likely to be useful in a fight would enter the Honey Shop via the Circle of Excess, observing our fellow fighters Tom and Carter, praying for a good outcome.  Tom and Carter would enter via the rustling of money, descend into the arena and hopefully come out the other side unscathed.

Before we knew it, the time had come, Carter’s rickshaw drivers were waiting.  After 20 minutes through the uneven streets, Carter and Tom exited, looked at us, nervous thoughts emitting from their eyes before making their way to the entrance and disappearing inside.

After a short wait, I turned to will asking if he was alright to continue, his enthusiasm slightly returning.  We entered the building, explaining our intention, met by two large and tattoo covered individuals both brandishing machete’s we were instructed to a small door that led to stairs, stairs leading downward.

The panic had struck me, we were heading down, was this the way to the observation area, or to the pit, had we got it wrong?  Carter had been sure that this was the way to the observation area, the Circle of Excess, where we would rub shoulders with hopefully some of the important players.  Why were we heading down?

As we descended, another small group of machete carrying men awaited us through yet another door, leading us through passage ways and courtyards before entered a large steel plated entrance.  On the other side, a room of some sort, a preparation room, stained with blood and the awful smell of rotting flesh and bone.  On the far wall, three other men, dressed in cloth sat hunched in against the wall, all scared and feverish.

This is not where we wanted to be, we had indeed got it wrong.

A man entered, carrying a large box of material, he instructed us to undress and fashion for ourselves loin cloths to wear in the arena.  Both of us shocked, Will and I both looked at each other, sizing up the men at the door both carrying machete’s, we had no choice but to do as commanded.

Within a few moments another man entered, his body gaunt, his features old, teeth filed to points.  He looked at Will and slightly chuckled, looking at me he was fascinated by my facial scar and his chuckle went away.  He enquired as to our visit, if it was our first time, I nodded, as did Will. Not concerned with our answer he simply smiled again and spat a goodbye remark.

As we got changed another man in a fez entered, carrying a large plate of assorted food and drink, beer and spirits, rice and meat, he gave us the name Xuc, his official title was unknown.

As Xuc moved to exit the room, one of the men who had been hunched against the wall dashed for the door.  Seized by the machete wielding guards, he kicked at one, only to have his foot removed with one swift swing of the blade.  Screaming he was dragged to another door, opening it, a set of stairs lit dimly filled my view, stairs leading up and away, to where, most likely the place where many meet their death.  

Will and I stood shocked.  Minutes past, maybe hours before the side door opened again, the old man with the filed teeth entered, he looked at both myself and Will once more.  His gaze piercing, yet we did our best to be unafraid, in my head, my prayers were raging in all tongues and verses I had ever heard.

The man extended one bony finger at Will, without a word the two guards seized his arms and dragged him towards the entrance, powerless to stop them, Will and I locked eyes, the fear was tremendous, yet we both knew, hold fast, have faith, fight hard, there was nothing left to do.