A God-given Rite

Memoirs of Bastian St. Cloud

Entry 1.0

The trouble started with a woman – as trouble is wont to do. It was a quiet morning at the shop; I was finishing up some cursory research into a potential new find acquired at an estate sale the previous week. The sound of the door chime signaled the presence of a customer. A Ms. DuBois was interested in one of the “special” items I sold – though she was vague about what, precisely, she wanted out of such an item. I can do vague; I sold her a trifling trinket for an exorbitant fee. As thanks for my discretion, she gave me an invitation to the grand opening of a new French restaurant. I saw it as an opportunity to make contacts.

I showed up at the place wearing a suit and tie I had kicking around and packing heat – one never can tell when one will need to shoot a mother fucker. I wasn’t expecting trouble per se – I was merely as prepared as I always was. My private vendetta against the creatures of the dark has grown somewhat more….involved…over time. I never go anywhere unarmed.

I was somewhat surprised to see Roads at the soiree – she usually rubs elbows with a different sort of crowd. She fills out an evening gown nicely, I must say. She was speaking to a gentleman named Joe. I have seen Joe around – he has some connection to the local underworld (criminal and supernatural alike) – but we were not very familiar with each other.

The three of us, along with several other guests, were ushered inside and seated. A veritable plethora of gourmet dishes were served to us. Had I known then what I do now, I likely would have set fire to the table and run for the door. I was happy enough, at the time, to shovel down food like it was going out of style. I soon began to feel rather out of sorts, however. Looking around, I noticed that several of the others guests were slumping in their chairs. Drugs. Before I could do much of anything, I blacked out.

I came to in a panel van with Roads and Joe (and about nine other guests). We were all still armed. After opening the back doors of the van, we managed to shoot out the tires of the moving vehicle and cause it to wreck……accidentally throwing a few of the other passengers from the back. 1 casualty, 1 severely injured. Couldn’t worry about it at the time. Had to survive.

We figured out that the driver had nothing to do with the abduction – he was a hired patsy who would have probably been killed. He was taking us to some “farm.” We had a choice to make – go to the farm and see what the hell these people wanted with us or try to go back to the city. We had too many people to move and a busted vehicle. We also began to suspect, much to our growing horror, that we had been served human flesh at dinner. This disturbed me profoundly….and angered me in ways I cannot commit to paper. After the things I’ve seen, the things I’ve done….some freaking cannibals had the temerity to fuck with me? Nope. I was going to the farm. Roads and Joe decided they were coming, too.

We snuck down the road in the darkness – eventually sighting several large bonfires in the distance. We began to hear a strange rumbling or humming in the night air and, as we got closer, realized there were at least a dozen people in hooded robes chanting some liturgy around the fires. Cultists of some kind? Didn’t really matter; we needed to figure out a way to get the other victims from the van to safety. We noticed a nearby house and managed to sneak over to it without being spotted (though with some difficulty). Once there, we noticed there were two vehicles parked alongside the house. While we hid, a cultist walked up and drove off in one of the two vehicles. Sarah broke into and hot wired the other vehicle while Joe and I took a peak inside the house.

A cursory examination of the place revealed several occult tomes and such lying about. A peek inside the fridge confirmed our worst fears – these people were cannibals. Mad as hell, I espied a propane fed stove in the shack. I told Joe what I had on my mind then I cut the gas line. After waiting a few minutes for the gas leak to get started, I tossed a lit candle (from the house) inside. Meanwhile, the noise from Roads hot wiring the car had brought several cultists running. They arrived just in time for the propane tank to explode – blowing them to hell as Roads, Joe, and I sped off in the stolen car. We had to catch up with the other car before it got to the derelict van.

Flooring the stolen car, Roads managed to catch up to and get alongside the other car in short order – just as it pulled to a stop next to the van. I leveled a gun at the driver of the other car from the passenger side window as we pulled alongside. He reacted surprisingly well and floored it when he saw the gun in his face…..but not well enough. I shot him as Roads pulled some kind of insane police maneuver and forced the other driver off the road – pretty much destroying his car in the process but leaving ours intact.

As the remaining cultists began to catch up to us, we loaded the injured/drugged people from the van into the car and tore off. I will need to follow up with an account of what happened once we got back to the city. For now, I need to get some sleep before the hunt continues.


Kibner azraelthran

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