A Murder of Crows - Chapter 13

The very shadows of the mansion seem to be gathering around, coming in closer, trying to worm their way into our spirits.
"Three holy kings, four holy saints, at Heaven's high gates do stand, speak out and bid all evil wait, and stir no foot nor hand." (OOC: Prot. from Evil) The shadows seem to hold back, and I see the path to the trophy room.
"We must hurry, Trent, before it is too late for us to hurry - before these things find a way into us." I start towards the stairs to the trophy room, praying that my spell holds long enough...

Yes, it was as if somebody was scratching through the outer flesh and just scraping the surface of my mind. ich. Trent shudders. And then the feeling is gone. He didn't realise it but he had stopped to shake of the feeling. He suddenly looked up.
"Woh!"
He quickly runs forward to catch up with Karl.
"God, whatever... but if we can get the others out that will do for me, not just to right past wrongs but because we should and can, and I'll give god a kick in the ass if this house wins!"
The shadows deepen.
"Forget the shadows, go, get to the door!"
With his free hand he pushes forward on Karl's shoulder.
"I'm right with you! Go!"

At Trent's insistence, I hurry through the door and, almost instantly, wish I hadn't.
When I heard that it was a trophy room, I immediately had wondered what it was that Godfrey - who had always avoided animal hunting - would have in a trophy room. It took all my self-control to avoid becoming sick when I stepped in.

Trent steps into the room backwards, making sure that nothing else from the corridor follows them. Shutting the door he turns to look at the room and see what it is that has shocked Karl.
"What is..."
He just stands there, mouth agape.
He pauses as he gathers himself. He says nothing. His face sets in a determined grimace.

"It's time to die. Time to move on." I pull an assortment of powders out of my bag, and unsheath my blade - which is now glowing VERY brightly, in the dim light. I sketch a circle on the ground, surrounding Trent and myself.
"I'm going to TRY and exorcise the spirits of the room. If you do not wish to take part, I suggest that you step out of the circle. By the way - this won't be a Christian service. It will be one that I'm more familiar with - and you will have to watch for any spirits whether you are in the circle or not.
"I invoke this circle by the power of all that is holy. I invoke the Air of the north, the Fire of the south, the Earth in the east, and the Water of the west." As I speak, I place things at corners of the circle. Using a compass for orientations, I place a small handful of herbs on the northern "corner", and set them alight. I place a candle, now lit with my sword-cane, on the southern "corner". I place a vial of spring water on the western "corner", and a stone on the eastern.
"Trent, last chance. If you want out, leave now."

"Come what may, I'm with you."
He shifts slightly to better watch Karl's back.
'If anything is still right with the world, this place should not be.'His thoughts concentrate as he glimpses the mounted heads.

"Then let the circle be unbroken. I seal this circle by the power of the elements, four of which I have placed at their corners, and the fifth, the spirit, in myself, center of all things." I begin speaking words in various languages, shifting from gaelic to slavic to tibetan, and continuing to change it every few words.
"By the tongues of these places, whose people oppose you to their dying days, I bid thee, spirits, begone! I bid thee, spirits, depart to the other side of the Veil." The ghosts of the room begin to form.
"That our sacrifices are not in vain, that there is a good for every evil, and that there is a God in Heaven." Taking my blade, I etch a small pentagram in the air.
"That which is spoken three times binds. Begone. Begone. Be-" The assault begins, the spirits hurtling themselves at the circle. It stops most of them - but for how long? "Begone!" A cry rises up, and some of the spirits - including, thank whatever Gods exist, the two Legacy precepts. But there are others remaining - and my ceremony wouldn't be enough.
"Trent! We have a problem! I can't handle these last ones alone! Try your gun!" In the meantime, I swing with my blade, clearing the area as I step out of the circle, and get ready for the fight of my life.

Trent aims his revolver at on of the spirits and fires the first of Claude's special bullets.
"I hope you didn't waste your time on these Claude!" He mutters.
The bullet strikes the being's side, but unlike before it does not pass through, instead the spirit is hurled backwards.
Trent grins.
He fires at another spirit, hitting it in the head. It dissipates instantly.
The few remaining become cautious and mill around the sides of the room.
"Finish it, fast! I've only got two left!"
He turns pointing the revolver at different spirits, who dodge to the side when confrunted with the gun barrel.
"Thanks Claude!"

Finish it, he says. So cold, so tired... Wake up, damn it! I begin to shake off the effects of the spirit's touch, and take into account just what will happen if I don't start working.
"My mind to thine. My Will, shape the reality about us. Show me the Way, through Madness, to Power!" The Paka priest had used this incantation before he had loosed more spells than he should have been able to - perhaps I could, now, do something similar.
"Begone! You are not wanted here!" The cold has grown stronger - but this cold is not of the spirits, it is of the Dark - and my own mind, constantly growing weaker as I channel my own willpower into my spells.
"Creatures of the Dark, begone! Godfrey's power is gone in this place - he is no longer thy master!" Master - master - what is master? Ren - Renfield spoke of Master - but I serve not That. "Godfrey has lost his power here!" Proof - proof of darkness fleeing when it is all about - how am I to do that? I feel Godfrey's will forcing itself into my mind, trying to take over - or lay waste to it.
"In the words of God - Let there be Light! FLAGRATE!" My sword blazes with mystical energy, and I feel the shadows fleeing, dissipating. "By the sacred Name which can not be known by mortal man - I bid thee leave this place! BEGONE!" Screaming the last word, my mind begins to crumble - but Godfrey has left this place, returned...Home. Home - England - Alicia - Himmel - the cats... Must find something to focus on, to keep from falling to Godfrey - Home, home, must return home...
Repeating the word "home" to himself, Karl collapses, wrapping his arms around his knees and leaning back against the wall, rocking slightly, his eyes revealing a nearly shattered man.

"They've gone!"
Trent looks around, the spirits seem to have melted away.
"I don't know what you did..."
He turns to Karl, he thought that his companion had just knelt to gather himself. Trent bends down and looks into Karl's face.
"Damn!"
He holsters the pistol and picks Karl up.
"This is getting to be a habit, we'd better get back to the chapel." He says to knowone in particular.
He patts Karl on the back.
"Well done, anyway."
He pulls the trophy room door open and starts back. The hallways seem just as forboding, but with less actual menace.
"I still don't like this place."
He picks up the pace and gently whistles to himself.

"Come on my friend - Godfrey's grip on you has lasted too long. Let go - or let me free you." The spirit seemed to sway back and forth, almost as if it was looking for an opening. Then - it found one. I had whirled around to ward off another of the apirits and, in the seconds I was off guard, it got through. I felt the chill of the grave seeping through my bones as the spirit passed through me, and my hand grew numb, almost forcing me to drop my blade. I focused all my willpower on a spell I had been taught by one of the other Precepts, and the last spell I had prepared for the night.
"Spiritus Minitus Invustres Appare!" The chill left my bones as the spirit appeared, glowing with the life-strength it had stolen from me. I was still cold, numb, and moving sluggishly. But not too slowly. I swung out with Flagrate, cutting through the spirit and leaving a trail of ectoplasm trailing behind my blade. The spirit seemed to cry out, and it reached for me again. Fortunately, it couldn't seem to touch me - the spell must have worked to some degree, it was holding back. Perhaps enough time to get over the cold of its first touch - or enough time to end the battle. I pull a small bell out of my cloak, and ring it. A blessed bell from the Vatican, that I had received on a previous trip. Perhaps it would help... Yes! The weakened spirit seems to be fading - gone. Only a few left. I only hope that Trent can deal with them...So cold... Backing up to a wall, I lean back and try to regain my strength, trying at the same time to stay awake.

At last he can see the chapel ahead door, though he seems to be slowed, it is as if the air was so dense that he had to force his way through. Finally he reaches the door. He hits it with his free hand.
"Math! Frank! Let me in."

"Mon Dieu..." - I search my pocket for my wheellock and a piece of cloth I used to dry myself when I arrived here. Taking care to remove the orichalcum bullet, I fire an empty round, using the spark to set the cloth ablaze. The makeshift torch should last for some ten minutes. Now I can see...
nothing.
It's still pitch black.
"William! Where are you?" - I shout at the top of my lungs.
This darkness... It almost feels tangible... But it's so hard to walk in it.
And why am I so... tired?
And suddenly I realize it.
"William! It's Jean-Claude! Follow my voice! Don't stop walking, or the shadows will capture you! Don't give in to the fatigue! Do you hear me? WILLIAM!!!!"

Weasel looked around in panic.
Why did the lights go out?
He reached out, till his hands felt the wall. It felt.. wet. Sticky.
Then the smell struck him.
Something inside him roared to the surface, pushing aside reason...
"Blood!"
It flashed through his mind, and a sudden... need welled up. He stumbled back, pushing aside something in the darkness, that fell on the floor and made a shattering noise. He shook his head to clear the thoughs and smells, but even as he gained control of his senses he was already halfway in the process of transformation. He dropped to the floor, trying to force himself to remain.
But why not give in?
The freedom... the power... the surge...
With these powers battering his mind, Weasel curled up on the floor, as he slowly dwindled away and became something... else.

It's getting harder to move around. Like moving through molass.
"William? oh lord so tired... Wi-ill?"
Then I listen to a low, rumbling sound, as if my stomach were complaining about being empty. But it's not me.
"Oh Lord... William? Is... Is that you?"
Two small orbs of red light answer me in the worst possible manner.
"Oh, William..."

Weasel slowly opened his eyes.
He had no idea how much time had passed. Seconds? Minutes? Hours?
It was still dark, but it was a natural darkness. He could vagelue see walls.
The dampness he smell was also familiar.
Earth. Bones.
He sat up straight. He was in the mausoleum!
He jumped up, stumbled and almost fell, before he realized he was still halfway in change. He corrected himself ending up in a halfcrouch. He warily peered into the darkness, realizing that he would probably not see a thing had he not changed.
He could hear someone call out, a voice calling his name, but it sounded far away, like a thick wall seperated him from the caller. Still, it seemed so close...

The cold touch of the shadow-tendrils numb my arms... I can feel myself lowering the gun... It's like holding up the world...
"Greetings, Monsieur Lafitte. I was waiting your return."
The voice sends a chill down my spine. The dreaded voice, like a volcano barely keeping back its rage...
"Why did you bring me here?"
"You hurt my feelings, Jean. After all, we have a lot in common."
My heart burns up like a forest fire.
"I HAVE NOTHING IN COMMON WITH YOU!!!!"
I let the magical bullets fly, but they fail to reach their mark. I feel so tired...
"Just leave me in peace..."
"Peace? PEACE?!"
I feel tentacles strong as steel lifting me (and yet I see nothing) and tossing me aside like a wicker doll.
"You will know no peace! Not when I'm trapped in here! In this cage YOU PUT ME IN!!!!!!"

Through the dark tunnels, Weasel moved on all fours, sniffing the air.
There was a... presence.
He couldn't place it. The smell was familiar, yet he was sure he hadn't smelled it before.
Not like this.
The darkness became more oppressive as he moved deeper into the tunnels, until he met a winding staircase. A sound of moaning seemed to be heard from down there, and for a moment Weasel hesiatted.
Go back?
It would be so safe to go back.
To the light, the warm rooms in the house, the kitchen, maybe.
But there was the realization that safety was all an illusion in the mansion.
Carefully, sniffing the air for any sudden danger, Weasel started to descend.

I feel my limbs numb even before I open my eyes. The last thing I remember seeing was that shadowy tentacle coming right at me. I guess I must have hit a wall or something.
"Still alive, aren't we?"
The sepulchral voice stirs me from my sturpor. It's here with me. The Heart of Darkness. The corrupted fiend I once begged for my own mortality. The monster that took my daughter to sate its hunger. I open my eyes in time to see wispy shadow-tentacles slithering out a wooden door. Wait... Is this...?
"... the cellar? It's reconstructed?", I mumble to no-one in particular.
The cold voice answers from the threshold.
"Yes, Pirate. The cellar is whole again. I'm free again. And your friends are no longer safe from me..."
The door slams just as soon as I hear a bell toll. The clock. It's - what, three in the morning? Four? I can't be sure. But each time the bell sound, I feel my heart squeeze and tears burst from my eyes. Oh, Lord. This can't happen again. Not with these innocents. I did it! I killed Godfrey! I was cursed! I begged to the fiend trapped in this place to release me! I did it all! Not them... No, not any of them...
I try to get up, but I feel the weight of the world keeping my down. Around me, a pentagram made from powdered bone. Oh, dear God! Trapped inside a living house, while a mad fiend from another realm tracks down my friends.
Math, I hope you live up to your reputation...