1.1 (Intro) The Sketch of Sam Monroe
1.2 The Cajun Prayer
Jesse’s eyes darted around the room. He seemed reticent on the matter, which was odd given how eager he had been to implicate us as whatever supposed villains he’d seen.
“Well…” I said, drumming my fingers impatiently on a mahogany table.
“There were five of ‘em, or at least I think so, ‘t’sall real hazy, two real tall ones in hats with big brims, so I couldn’t make out the face, and three guys in khakis and golfing shirts.”
“Khakis and golfing shirts, truly Satanic…” Lucas quipped.
“Anyway they looked like foreigners and they were strong, big guys, crew cuts, two was carrying cases and backpacks and one was carryin’ some kinda rope.”
“Maybe Thorton is into BDSM. He does always say he’s tied up…” Chuck guffawed.
“Shh…I wanna hear this…”
“Well I musta followed em for about forty minutes or so, I made sure to stay back far…far…I didn’ like tha look o them tall ones with the hats, somethin’ was wrong with their hands, though I was too far away to tell wut.”
He seemed to have a hard time recollecting.
“Then I saw ‘em come to some kinda clearing with a buncha granite and such in it. They dropped all their stuff and started setting up somethin’. The guy with the rope tied it around three trees into a triangle and the two tall ones stood in the center of it, back to back.”
“Sounds like some high caliber LARPING.” Sam couldn’t help himself. “Didn’t you once go dumpster diving with a chub that was into all that Wicca shit?” He asked looking at Graham who was as creepy and unresponsive as he’d been for the past four hours.
“Sam, shut your fucking mouth, I don’t get to hear bullshit this good very often.” Lucas said.
“It ain’t bullcrap, it ain’t, I saw it, I swear, one o the tall ones pointed an arm straight down in a perfect kinda angle the other raised his and bent it at the elbow kinda a pointin at the sky with the weirdest gnarled finger…then…
They started makin’ sounds. Weird sounds, unholy sounds, they was nothin like that I had herd before, it was a sort hum and shriek and chant all at ones, low and pulsating, the three commando looking guys had set up some kinda box with a revolving sort of stone on it, and one was holdin a panel..I dunno there was a lot goin on but it was all somehow related…to them lights, cause soon, the whole place got real weird, real dizzy like, it was almost like stars and such had come to earth, it go real dark but I could still see trees n sky, n ground, and then tha ground, it got all inky, n them glowing christmas lights dun sorta ooze out of em and buzz about, and in the light o that buzzin…I saw…”
There was a long pause.
“I saw the face o tha tall ones under the hats, they was rong, not people faces, they had real rough lookin skin, and no noses, and the eyes were large, kinda like snake eyes…”
“Then I saw it look at me, and ….”
This time the pause was uncomfortably long. More than eight minutes of silence interspersed with prodding.
“Ok, so how did you end up in the Lodge, and how did you avoid our suppressive systems? That would be the ear-splitting pulse weapon we have to play with.”
“I don’t remember no sound except for that throbbin thing just before I dropped my gun and found myself all damp by that cold lake…”
“Yeah, but you got in here somehow…”
“I don’t remember…”
“Anybody leave anythin open..”
“Thass right…! Ya’ll is wicked I recall now makin my way on muh hands and knees and I saw two doors open to the dark and stairs…”
“The root cellar…” I said palming my face.
“I saw them pillars n skulls, n runes, n such yall had in there… yall is wicked too.”
“It’s not what it looks like.”
“Government-funded voodoo?” Pierce chuckled.
“I wouldn’t put it past ‘em.” Fabre remarked with rueful vehemence.
Just then the television flickered on.