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.

Session 17 - Marcus' Journal

It was dark in this strange dressing room, Will had vanished for some time.  The only sounds I could hear were the slight groans and mixed cheers from some distance away.  An hour passed before the door opened again.  In walked the two Thai men brandishing their machetes, dragging behind them a bloodied and battered, half dead man.

They dropped the body to the floor before leaving the room.

All had gone quiet again except for the laboured breathing of the corpse on the floor,  keeping my guard up, I moved closer to the man, his head rocking back against the wall.  Will.

His body covered in a mix of dirt, sand and blood, his left arm carved open and gushing blood.  His face and torso bruised and battered.  He spoke softly against the echoing walls, explaining that his fight was far more brutal than I could imagine, looking at what was left of him, I was steadily reminded of my time in the alley with that Private Investigator Jack.

Over the course of the next hour I paced frantically wondering when my time would come to walk up those stairs and possibly to my doom.  The only visitors to come remotely close to the doors were the guards, all heavily tattooed and brandishing a mix of clubs and blades.

I don’t know how long I slept, I had dozed off on the bench in the centre of the room, to my shock, Will was pacing around the room, straps of cloth tied firmly around his arm to stem the blood.  I had awoken to the sound of a knock on the door, Xuc was back offering a breakfast of rice.  Not wanting to die on an empty stomach, I took the rice without question.

Another hour past, there was no sign of getting out of here, the sound of doors opening and closing along the corridor were the only sounds echoing in the darkness.

More doors opening and closing, the occasional scream from somewhere down the hall, how long had we been here now, I had lost track.  Xuc had returned, the only questions being asked were from will, requesting a needle and thread to sew his arm back together.

The reality of the situation was becoming ever more present, was I going to be let out, or had the worst happened, we had been spotted and known to those who ran this establishment.  If that were the case, Carter and Tom, only God knows what has become of them.

It wasn’t long before more screams echoed throughout the hallway, somehow though, strangely familiar.  I knew that tone of voice, Carter, he was alive, but for how long.

Xuc returned and ushered will out of the room, promising to stitch his arm and return him to the room.  Knowing that Will was losing blood and turning a lighter shade of white, I let him go without questions.  Always doing my best to be polite to Xuc, he seemed to be the only person here who did not look at us as enemies.

Hours past, Will had not returned.  More doors slammed and footprints echoed in the darkness of the corridor as I continued to pace around the room.  A small sliding hatch in the main door slid open, something I had not noticed about it before, a strange tone of voice echoed through it, talking in a laboured accent, a westerner by the sound of the voice speaking to the local thugs.

The voice then spoke at me, the accent, German.  My back was to the door, he continued to speak at me, asking why I was here, he knew who I was, he knew who Carter was, his questions were as the identities of Will and Tom.  Explaining that they were tourists who wanted to see a fight, I knew he didn’t believe me.  I turned slowly to see him, he was a giant, at least half a foot taller than me, his physique was powerful, much like the Russian Kornovalov in Mexico.  This was clearly the Captain Walker of Bangkok.  I continued the conversation, speaking of the gods that ‘SS’ serves and how wrong she is.  He shrugged my comments off and told me that he is here for the money, not the gods and the nonsense that follows them.

After about 10 minutes talking to him, he disappeared down the hall and the latch slid shut, he wasn’t going to let me out, he wasn’t going to do anything but let me rot down here.

Another day passed, I continued the daily routine of prayer, pacing and worrying.  It was around lunch time that the screaming and bashing started, someone was being beaten, badly.  I looked more closely at the bench in the room, its long slats held in by failing nails.  Knowing that if I did nothing, I would soon be doomed, I slammed the bench with my foot, freeing one of the long planks if wood, about three feet in length and narrow enough to swing as a club, I rested it back in place on the bench, if someone was coming for me, I at least could arm myself, however futile it might be in the face of three or more men with machetes.

After the screams had died down, footsteps and the unmistakable sound of something being dragged.  The footsteps got closer and the bolt on the door to my prison clicked open.  Four men threw another bloodied body into my company, Carter.  His body was broken, naked and covered from head to toe in blood, excrement and mud.  The four men, all brandishing clubs, turned to face me, grabbing the beam of the bench, I beckoned them to try.  They did so, all grinning as they advanced.  The first man was mine, swinging my weapon as hard as I could, collecting him across the face, his teeth spraying across the room followed by trails of blood, I turned to the second man only to see his club for an instant as it crashed into the side of my head, I was done.

I woke in pain, my whole body, nothing felt normal, the first blow knocked me out, I have no idea how long they continued to beat me for, all I could feel is that it was clearly for some time.

I had a sack on over my head, my hand bound, my legs bound, naked, I was outside, I could smell the air, I was near water, the smell of the salt in the water was encouraging, if not for the circumstances I found myself in.  I lifted my head only to fell something else slam into me.

Waking again to the gentle rocking of the seas, I was still bound and gagged, I was in a boat, was I going to the island of SS? I raised my head once more only to feel hands grab me and yet another blow.

I could feel the sun, it was showering me in warmth that I had not felt for days, my hands and legs were free, my head still covered.  The voices of my captors seemed to ramble in an uncontrollable fashion, their hands on me, gripping my arms to keep me still.  I was on my knees, the feeling of grass swaying in the breeze around me, there was something calming about where I was.  The hands left me momentarily, only to be replaced by a foot kicking me in the back sending me into free fall, I feel for a short time, I screamed briefly before landing in a pool of shallow water, ripping the hood from my head I looked up to see a large grate closing above me, I was in another cell.

The cell was about four meters deep, its walls rock and mud about a meter in diameter, as if this was a well that had no purpose, the iron grate above me also seemed to have chains connected to it.  In the air around me, giant bugs crawled everywhere, on my skin, buzzing around my head, in the water at my feet, was this where I would come to rest, was this where I was to die?

I climbed as best I could to the surface, the grate was not moving, pressing my face to it I could see there were chains connected to four wooden posts in the ground, in the distance, there were more posts, there must be more cells.  I called out to Carter, my only hope was that he was here somewhere.  The response came, Carter was alive, he seemed to have the same idea, he must have been about 10 meters from me, he had climbed as I had to the surface to get his bearings.  Before I could ask anything of import, my legs gave way and I fell back to the floor of the well, I was exhausted, I was weak, naked, hungry and cold, being slowly eaten alive by these bugs that seem to never stop, if there is a heaven, there must be a hell, had I arrived finally?

Night came before long, the hours passed like lifetimes as I sat, semi submerged, powerless in this place.  I turned to all I knew, closing my eyes and praying for salvation, there was nothing more I could do.  Flickering light showered my cell, the light of a fire.  I climbed the walls of my cell again to see a monstrous fire raging a few meters from me, around it, the outline of a woman, a naked woman, chanting and worshipping the flames, my eyes blurred as the heat from the fire washed over me, enough to knock me back to the ground.

Waking to the feeling of my skin on fire, I ripped a large insect from my chest that seemed to be feasting, squashing it in my hand.  Looking to the ski, a figure was standing at the grate.  My eyes blurring in the contrast of darkness mixed with the single source of light.  It appeared to be a woman, a young woman, dressed in a floral summer dress, I couldn’t help myself, calling her by name, Savitree, she did not respond, she only watched.  Vanishing from view, I could hear Carter also address her, the muffled noise made quite impossible to hear down in the darkness of my prison.

Night came again, another fire lit the dim air, the woman who seemed so vocal by the flames and so quiet in the daylight had resumed her chanting.  I heard Carter calling in the distance, his voice seemed to stop the chanting momentarily.  Weak and cold I again made the climb to the top of my cell, Carter’s voice was just audible, he had begun some chanting of his own, I recognised it, it was the chanting learned from our ordeal in the Yucatan.  Watching the woman, she picked up a long speak from the ground and walked over the where Carter must have been, the spear at least two meters long, towered above her, the blade at its peak, broad and shimmering in the fire light.  She began driving it into Carter’s cage, his chanting stopped but no screams.  After a few moments, the spear disappeared from her hands, it was lost to her down the cell.  I slipped again sending me to the bottom of my cell, that was it, I was done.  I woke still in the darkness, Carter was screaming, his voice piercing and chilling.  I called back to him, demanding to know what was happening.  He did not respond, silence took over the air.

Another hour past, chains above me began to rattle, I called to the sky, demanding to know what was going on.  It was Carter’s voice that answered, beckoning me to climb as he had gotten out of his cage and was removing the chains from mine.  Without question I climbed again, in time for the grate to slide open and reveal Carter staring at me, his face was pale, his body still bloodied and beaten.  In his hand however, he brandished a large blade, snapped from the head of the spear that I had seen in the hands of the woman.  He aided me out of my hole, the fire still alight, but failing, both of us cold, we threw all manner of wood we could find on the fire until it roared to life again.  Looking around the fire, there were several pits like the one I had been imprisoned in, all empty, save one or two that revealed bones at their base.  On the grass around the fire, all of Carters belongings, all charred and burnt, whatever had happened, it was clear to me that I was to be left to die and that Carter was who she was after.

Looking outward, we were on the peak of a small island, water on all sides.  Carter gave me the long wooden staff that was the spear, minus the blade, I also pulled a branch from the fire to use as a torch for our decent down to the water, hopefully to discover a boat or some mode of transportation out of here.

Our decent was slow, a small walking path was barely visible by the light of the torch.  After about half an hour or walking I noticed something in the undergrowth, a wire, a trip wire.  Stopping Carter from walking straight into it, it was connected to a large swinging branch filled with spines and spikes.

We traversed down further for another half an hour, now cautious of where we placed our muddied feet.

Pushing on, a snap of a branch ahead threw Carter and me into alertness, still moving downhill, we moved cautiously, something was out here with us.  A voice in the dark rang out, two voices, Tom and Will, they had found us.

They sprang from the side of the walking track, both looking worse for ware, however, clothed and armed, they presented us with a bag of mixed contents, clothes, weapons, food and water.  I took one of my shirts from within and doused it in water after first drinking half of the contents, I was parched beyond belief, the water running down my throat filling me with new life.  I used the shirt to wipe my body, a mixture of blood and muck covering the shirt.  After a few minutes of repeating the procedure, I began getting dressed, the clothes, standard and loose, clearly some of Tom’s, I was complaining however, tightening the belt and stuffing a couple of the magazines from the 1911 pistol I pulled  from the bag in my pockets.

We moved slowly back down the hill to a small clearing, enough space for the four of us to talk and eat.

Will was the first to talk, explaining how he had been sewn up by Xuc before being put into a cell with Tom back in Bangkok, the two of them did everything they could to escape before attacking Xuc and two guards who summarily beat and sliced up Tom.

It was Xuc who even though being attacked, still let them out, taking them down into the bowels of the fighting pit, explaining he wanted to feel safer yet refusing to leave his job.  Down in the depths under the pit, a mouth, a large mouth, the devourer of all the dead flesh that is surrendered through the fighting.  Tom also spoke of how he was desperate to escape, having been imprisoned in the past, he did not do well being confined.  In his desperation, he was strung up to a wall in a cell after his escape attempt.  Convincing Xuc to release them, they were taken to a room filled with all of their belongings, mine and Carter’s and anyone else who had fought and never been seen from again.  They had made their way back to the hotel, Frank had taken over, at the news of Carter and my disappearance, Frank apparently went to work on Loweman, learning of the location of the island.  They had arrived not long ago, Will had already been attacked, the fresh blood on his shoulder proving it.  A spear from the forest had glanced him.

They had passed several destroyed ships on the docks of the island, they had also passed a Mansion in the distance, some way back down the trail and off a few hundred yards through the trees.

The decision was simple, do we run or do we pursue?

Carter and I then explained what we had endured, the beating, the cages, the island, the woman all of it.  However Carter went further, he explained that the reason he was escaped was nothing more than a challenge, he had grabbed the blade of the spear, in doing so, he had cut his hand.  The woman who was indeed Savitree had let him out, explaining to him that they were to do battle.  He told us she was covered in mouths, on every limb, barely a patch of skin remained save her face.  He was to do battle with her, his mouth against hers, as he spoke he raised his cut hand, to our horror, instead of an infected, sliced hand, a cracked mouth with blackened teeth licked its lips under the light of Tom’s flashlight.  I rose to my feet instantly in shock, as did Will and Tom, what were we to do? Amputate, shoot him, was he too far gone?

Will pushed for the mansion in his argument, his method of thinking, destroy the woman, she did this, maybe her death would remove it.  Having no other alternative than to cut Carter’s hand off, we decided the mansion was where we had to go.

Moving back down the path, Tom led the way, it wasn’t long before another spear flew from the darkness and struck Will in the back, his scream shocking in the darkness.  I ran to him, plucking the spear from his back and compressing a piece of torn shirt to it, I patched him up as best I could in the darkness before we pushed on, his determination was commendable, but he needed more attention.

We approached the mansion from what seemed to be the rear, its large open grounds revealing a truly magnificent sight, this mansion was massive, designed to house its masters, servants, gardeners, easily over 100 people.

Between us and the large garden terraces, a small shed and a greenhouse blocked our view, refusing to split u and investigate in pairs, we all moved to the greenhouse, its glass fogged as plants had grown wild, growing through many of the window and ceiling, I looked at Tom who was at the door who returned my gaze, I shook my head slightly, we decided that this was not somewhere we wanted to go.  Moving to the shed, I had taken the lead, its old, wooden door locked but giving way under my heel as I kicked hard.  I took one step inside to see all manner of tools hanging from the walls and ceiling, however it was the floor that shocked me.  The cracking under my shoe made all the more terrifying when my eyes looked down.  This was a tomb, at least a dozen skulls littered the floor, bones everywhere, whoever these people were, there were many of them.  Stepping back out and closing the door, I told the others that they should not enter, telling them of the bones, they agreed and we pressed further onward towards the mansion.

Traversing the rear gardens and approaching the large oak double doors of the rear of the mansion, everything seemed to be in disrepair, not a single tile was intact, no window unbroken or cracked.  This mansion was fast becoming a ruin.

We pushed open the large doors to find ourselves in a vacant and grand ballroom, easily the size of the hanger we had first met Janet and Frank in.  No a single sound came from inside the mansion, we fanned out across the floor, all moving quickly through rooms and openings, an abandoned and vacant dining room, study, observatory, music room, all falling apart, the wallpaper lifting and curling, the floorboards raised at rotting.  Everything here was dead, the only signs of life, the fresh rat excrement in the corners of the rooms.

We were now faced with two choices, upstairs or down.  I never liked heading downstairs, reminding myself of what we found in the basement of Samson Trammell’s estate, yet I was outnumbered, downstairs it was to be.

It was a maze, corridors filled with side rooms, we were down here for close to an hour checking ever room possible.  The living quarters for the servants, the play areas for children, sleeping areas for children and adults alike.  Every single space was silent and disturbing, no life, yet the remains of a once thriving enterprise.  Children’s toys lay dust covered and strewn across the rooms, the black stains of dried blood littering every wall and floor.  Whatever had happened here, it had long since passed.

Finally leaving the downstairs area, we moved up through the ground floor to the level above.  Entering the front section of the upstairs, again, many rooms were empty and wasting away, however the master bedroom at the front of the house was different, lived in, clean, this must be where Savitree resides, we were in her home, in her room, we were in her domain.  Searching the room, Will discovered a key hidden near the wash basin, a key with no lock, yet.

Moving through the rooms, another empty bedroom, void of any life, the only sign that this was once occupied, a severed hand laying clenched in a fist on the floor.  Tom was clearly struggling, this was too quiet, something was off, we all felt it.  Another large bedroom, this one however greeted us with a human skull resting atop the pillow on a neatly made bed.  A strange noise emitting from it.  Carter and Tom took the lead, rolling it over with the barrel of the shotgun he was holding, Tom recoiled at the cracked mouth on whispering on the back of the skull.  Breaking it with the butt of his weapon, the skull turned to pieces under the blow from Tom, however the piece with the mouth, remained whispering and intact.

Moving to the next room, another master bedroom, the first signs of something living, there ahead of us, sleeping soundly in bed, an old woman.  All of us trained our firearms at her, Carter was the first to call out, calling the name Savitree, the old woman rose in a panic, demanding to know who was there, her eyes white, blind.

Tom, speaking the language discovered that this woman was Ravi, Grandmother to Savitree.  We spoke to her as Tom would translate, she was scared, hiding something, she knew something, she knew what had happened here.  Why had Savitree kept her alive?

After putting her in the wheelchair next to her bed, we kept moving through the upper floor of the house, the old woman stating that Savitree spent most of her time in the library, as we made our way to where it was, she grew increasingly more panicked.

The door was locked, Wil however produced the key.  As the door swung open, Ravi whispered, she told us how Savitree had killed everyone, all who lived here, men, women and children, she was a monster.  Entering the library, the fear of what resided in this locked room melted away, this room was enormous, floor to ceiling, 20 feet high shelves covered every wall of the room, filled to the brim with books on everything I could possible imagine.  The information within this library could not be amassed by myself in 30 lifetimes, yet here I stood in the sanctuary of a crazed woman, all information I could ever want to know at my fingertips.

In the centre of the room, a large circular revolving table covered in handwritten notations, piles of books and at last, a complete set of the Revelations Of Glaaki, the one thing Carter and I knew of that sparket the interest of what he had spoken to in the Yucatan.  All the notes on the table seemed to be sorted into content, if I was to study here, that would be the first place, her notes on what she believed, all categorised, just waiting for me.

We all knew what we had found, knowledge, to know our enemy and combat them with a greater understanding.  Yet, this enemy was still here, on the island somewhere, waiting for us, more importantly, waiting for Carter and his mouth.

Tom had come to the conclusion that this library was the source of Savitree’s power, if we wanted her to come to us, why not burn it all.  A fair assumption, however the information contained here could equip us with more power and knowledge than we could have ever hoped to achieve elsewhere.  It was decided that we would indeed burn something, we filled the bathtubs in all the master bedrooms with books and papers of no importance and began lighting them, making sure the smoke and flames could be seen to be emitting from the windows rather than the chimneys, once Savitree realised that we were burning her precious library, she would come, at least we hope.