Killing The Messenger
JP with Jaxx, Redsword, Trustno1 and Cindy
Sartre asked, "Alyssa, can you look on your phone and see if there is any occult history to this building? Let's slowly make our way downstairs, We can take the stairs."
It took no time for Alyssa to pull up information on the building. "The building's original owner was Robert Elias. Apparently, the building belonged to the Theosophical Society. The Theosophical Society is the organizational body of Theosophy, an esoteric new religious movement. It was founded in New York City, U.S. in 1875. Among its founders were Helena Blavatsky, a Russian mystic and the principal thinker of the Theosophy movement, and Henry Steel Olcott, the society's first president. It draws upon a wide array of influences among them older European philosophies and movements such as Neoplatonism and occultism, as well as parts of Asian religious traditions such as Hinduism, Buddhism, and Islam. Some intellectuals belonged to it like Thomas Edison and Yeats. The group still exists but is mostly located in India. " Alyssa reported.
Ekaterina smirked elegantly as she replied, "Oh that is not good. It sounds like this place was made to be haunted. I would not be surprised if we ran into a green ghost raiding someone's fridge and leaving a trail of slime like a snail." Agent Powers gave Ekaterina a smolder and then asked, "Huh? Did that really happen?" Ekaterina elegantly smirked as she replied, "No.....at least I don't think so. It was in an old movie I saw a few years ago." Agent Powers then looked at his gun then around the area as he said, "Now that you mentioned it, I wonder if my bullets work on ghosts."
Alyssa smiled at the reference. "I guess we are like the Ghostbusters, in a way. " She thought. "I think it would be hard to shoot something that's incorporeal."
Agent Powers then gave Alyssa a smolder before he said, "I should contact my father to see if we have a countermeasure for ghosts. Normally I would ask Choi or Sung about this stuff but our schedules don't match right now." Ekaterina nodded as she said, "I should reach out to my master for similar advice as well."
Alyssa nodded. "Any info or equipment would be good. When we get back to the RV I'll try to find stuff on the web." The hacker meant the dark web but that didn't need to be said.
"Let's slowly make our way down the stairwell." Sartre said.
"Who wants to lead the way?" Asked Alyssa.
Agent Powers gave Alyssa a smolder and then said, "I'll take point." Ekaterina said, "I'll take the back."
Alyssa gestured with her hand, "Well, then Max, lead the way."
Agent Powers readied his Holy Golden Shotgun as he was on guard and led the way. He has a smolder in his eyes and his bulging muscles popped as he was holding his weapon ready to blast the first monster that popped out. He was conditioned to be fearless by his father, so he rarely panicked in the face of danger. Ekaterina covered the team from behind with her mini pump shotgun with the same holy shells that Agent Powers was using. She had the insects scouting the area around them just in case any danger approached them.
As they walked down the steps, they could hear a shuffling below them and see a glow of green against the dark backdrop of the walls.
Agent Powers paused as he aimed his shotgun. Then he gave the target a smolder before he said, "If you don't want your head blasted off I suggest you announce yourself in the next three seconds!......One!.....Two!...."
Alyssa was behind Max and too short to see much but the green glow was noticeable even by her vantage point.
Sung, in the middle of the group, could not see what was happening, but he had not heard any shooting yet. Hearing Agent Powers talk, he could feel the tension in the air. Something had gotten Agent Powers' attention. He readied himself as silver mist started to build around his feet.
From the depths of the stairwell, a sound rises—a wet, dragging noise, like something heavy being pulled across the floor. It’s slow and deliberate, echoing eerily in the tight space.
Then, it appears. A figure lurches into view, its rotting hand gripping the railing with bone-exposed fingers that drip a glowing, green ichor. The flesh on its body is sagging and torn, revealing patches of raw muscle and the gleaming white of bone beneath. The green glow doesn’t just come from its eyes—it seeps from its very being, oozing out of cracks in its skin and the jagged wounds that cover its torso.
Its face is a grotesque mask of death. The skin has pulled tight over its skull, cracking in places to reveal green-lit bone beneath. Its mouth hangs open in a macabre grin, filled with jagged, blackened teeth that glint with the same unnatural light. When it moves, it does so with unsettling jerks, as though strings of some unseen puppeteer yank its limbs.
The glow intensifies with each motion, casting shifting, sickly patterns on the stairwell walls. Its chest heaves unnaturally, as though it’s struggling to breathe despite having no need to. Beneath its shredded shirt, symbols glow faintly, carved into its exposed ribcage—arcane glyphs pulsating in time with the hum emanating from below.
As it reaches the landing, the zombie pauses. Its head snaps up with an audible crack, and its glowing eyes lock onto the team . Then comes the sound: a deep, guttural snarl that vibrates the very air around you. It takes a step forward, leaving a trail of glowing green slime on the concrete, and then it lunges.
The air fills with the sharp stench of burning ozone and decay as the creature’s glowing ichor drips, sizzling onto the steps, each droplet hissing like acid. Its movements are unrelenting, driven by some dark force as it closes the distance, arms outstretched, its fingers twitching with a predatory hunger.
Agent Powers began firing his 12 gauge Holy Golden Shotgun loaded with holy rounds repeatedly. He then said, "Sung get ready! Kat start shooting!" Ekaterina took aim and began firing her white phosphorus rounds from her 12 gauge pump mini shotgun at the enemy. Her bullets ignited as they were exposed to the oxygen in the air and impacting her target. Then as he was still shooting his shotgun, Agent Powers reached into his pocket and pulled out a white phosphorus grenade and pulled the pin out with his teeth, then mumbled to three before hurling the grenade like a fastball at the monster.
The fetid stench of decay mingled with the acrid tang of phosphorous in the damp, suffocating air. At the bottom of a darkened stairwell, the undead abomination stood, its rotting flesh pulsing with a sickly green luminescence that seemed to thrum in time with the pounding heartbeats of the team. Shadows clung to the narrow space like cobwebs, broken only by the baleful glow emanating from the creature. Its sunken, maggot-filled eyes locked onto the intruders, jaws unhinging in a primal snarl that echoed like a dirge against the concrete walls.
The first shotgun blast rang out, a thunderclap of defiance against the unnatural. Flesh and sinew exploded in a mist of ichor, chunks of green-glowing meat flinging away into the shadows. The creature staggered but did not fall. Another roar of buckshot followed, and then another, each punctuated by the unholy shrieks of the abomination, each blast tearing more of its cursed existence away.
Even as its tattered body wavered, it lurched forward, propelled by some dark force that refused to relinquish its grip. That was when the phosphorus grenade arced through the air, its silvery casing catching the pale moonlight for the briefest of moments before landing with a deafening crack.
A white-hot inferno erupted, searing the shadows and forcing the green glow into submission. Flames licked hungrily at the zombie’s form, peeling away its corrupted flesh and revealing the blackened bones beneath. Its screech reached a crescendo, not of pain, but of something far worse—a soul trapped in a final, desperate scream of hatred.
As its broken body crumpled to the ground, silence descended, save for the faint crackle of embers dying in the stairwell's stagnant air. The glowing mist that had once animated the creature began to seep from its gaping mouth, rising in wisps of viridescent vapor. It swirled with an almost sentient malevolence, curling and coiling like a serpent tasting the air. Then, with a final hiss, it dissipated, swallowed by the uncaring darkness.
It was then that one of the team noticed the clenched fist of the corpse. Amid the blackened, charred remnants of flesh, there was something incongruously pristine: a piece of paper. It was yellowed with age, but otherwise untouched by the inferno. Its edges curled slightly as though beckoning the brave or the foolish to unravel its secrets.
The air hung heavy, thick with the promise that this was no mere coincidence.
"Alyssa, can you get that paper?" asked Sartre, In the chip, "Im testing your leadership skills my hacker."
Alyssa hung back a moment to make sure the creature was really dead, then went over to it and took the piece of paper. She walked back to the group, carefully unfolding the yellow sheet.
"Alyssa, that was not a wise move," started Sung, walking towards her. "How do you know if that paper is not cursed? It came from someone cursed. Just do not pick up things you don't know about," Sung said, his tone firm, his eyes watching her hand and the paper carefully.
Alyssa almost said that it could go along with the curse of having the dark follow her around - but the look on Sung's face made her instead say. "I have a weird feeling it's not, but you're right I should have been more careful."
As Alyssa unfolds the paper it reads: