oh god oh god oh god oh god…. what is happening to me? How can a dying spirit call to me and have my body respond while I am asleep and unaware? How can that be? What have I done? Who have I wronged? Why?
Calm down Darling… calm down… start at the beginning and maybe you can make some sense of things…
I woke from a dream of blood and screaming to find myself standing in gore, clutching a woman’s severed arm to my chest. Candles guttered and sputtered and burned breaking up the darkness around me and i could see the mutilated and decapitated corpse at my feet… the head sitting upon a small, battered table. I dropped the arm in horror and fell to my knees disgorging everything that was in my stomach from that evening’s dinner. Shaken, I cast around looking for PopPop… one question on my tongue… “Did I do this?” His denial was so firm, so certain it was like a physical blow. The comfort from that answer was short lived as panic began to sink in and I frantically began looking for a way out. The door out of this chamber was closed and when I reached to press down the handle I felt a small surge of power and a momentary shock but the door opened at my firm push. Beyond was a cellar of some sort with barrels and bottles and another door leading up… but barred from this side… puzzled but still mildly panicked I lifted the bar and moved into the the dimly lit room beyond. This room was long and narrow and there were pallets and tiny red lanterns along the walkway… an opium den… Some of the pallets were occupied, but I kept moving… sitting next to the door at the end of the room was a man slumped and slouched… and dead… with a dagger wound in his chest. This door was locked… from the inside… I turned the key and cautiously moved out into the alley, got my bearings and quickly and quietly, scurrying along the shadows made my way back to Al’s.
When asked, PopPop was confused and could not explain to me how I had gotten into that little room. He knew that I had been called by the woman’s death, that he was able to follow me, but would not have been able to pass through the door without me. I cannot explain how I got in there… all doors locked behind me… one lock something I cannot comprehend or replicate myself.
Back in the comfort of Al’s I rummaged for a whisky bottle and proceeded to down a swallow or two… then the sobs came and everyone else woke up. I did my best to explain and in the act of doing that got my spine back. Cleaning up and dressing, the four of us headed out into the night to investigate. It was easy enough to get them back to the little opium den in the dark alley, easy enough to show them where I started… Then, with my aetheric devices at hand I took photos and took closer looks, finding a button in the blood that had an aetheric aura, so I plotted it into the compass and we began to follow… but in the following we found footprints in the dust, and indications that something lay behind the barrels along one wall. Behind we found a passageway that lead up into a small room occupied by large black dog like creatures… although they were not natural and seemed to be dead, but not dead. They were tough to kill, and when they did die they gave off black, sulfurous smoke. Beyond them was a door into a warehouse. We moved through the warehouse following the compass, only to discover British soldiers looking for us.
Deciding retreat was the better part of valor we retraced our steps on the run, closing doors behind us back out, down and once again through the opium den, then small streets and alleys back to Al’s.
Here we sit, waiting for day and the arrival of Gwen in the hopes she might have some advice. Adriana has retired to the library looking for answers and I have retired to my journal looking for my own.
I hope she finds some as I’m not having any luck.
I expect a new voice will join the old familiar ones any time now.