Chapter 1.
Ethel Hallow walks the living room clothed in a black silky robe, a
hint of pale thigh showing when with every step. She yawns. The clock
reads quarter past three in the morning. What was she woken by?
Looking stunningly beautiful even after such a rough night she feels
she should wait for it to happen again. Cloaked in shadows, a pale
shaft of moonlight scorching the expensively carpeted floor, she
glances about from ebony corner to corner.
Chapter 2.Nick Hobbes, the enigmatic
but dark handsome young man lies on his side surrounded
by total pitch, like evil hands reaching for him from the
corners of the room it is all he can do to stay focused. The patter of fast, heavy feet somewhere in the shade, circling him,
waiting for him to drop his guard.
Lifting himself up cumbersomely he rests upon his gnarled staff
wearily, the emerald his only source of light.
He summoned this, this monstrosity through Coburn Trents
Goetia. The library's archaic text named 'Des Spirit
Del Culten' detailed the summoning of Azathoth only to
a point, he needed that other to aid him. Hobbes stole into Coburns pleasant dwelling while he was out with Ethel, a quiet drink
in the canteen with sweet talk and kisses.
Nick felt the throb of energy emanating from that codex. But it
was not Azathoth he called into this lonely,
destitute room. HE sent a representative, a representative
that thirsted for flesh and blood. It wanted him but
the protective incantations placed about the circle of
power were strong...now it waits for him to fall asleep so it can extend it's many maws and tentacles onto his limbs to slowly and
deliberately drag him from the circle.
The representative
lurches too and fro hidden in the perpetual night, every
now and then the lashings of tentacles macabrely feeling the air stir Hobbes from his fatigued state. Then it scuttles about him,
those feet rattling the stone floor ominously, that bent over husk
with flesh so grey like age old leather, that almost human face
twisted into painful expressions suspended by hooks and arrows. It
swivels it's beaded yellow eyes to him before vanishing again.
Nick waves his staff frantically at the thing intoning
a prayer from the Goetia which is held in his
left hand, a brilliant but short explosion lights the
dark for a second and the representative's laughing
plagues his ears. Swinging the cloak about his frame Hobbes begins again with his concentration, trying to fix onto Ethel and
call her to him for aid.
Chapter 3.
'Ethel... Help... The crawl spaces...'
Yelping, Ethel swings around, her fists clenched sparking with
electricity. Whos here, I'm a witch, the greatest witch that ever
lived...'
'It.....me Ethel, the crawl space...
Azathoth.' With that the static in the room fades and
her hair falls back nadir to her perfect head.'Hobbes?
Nick...!?' Receiving a flash or premonition her soul runs as ice at the sight of that thing pursing its lips and howling, those
torn, deranged, splintered lips revealing rows of jagged yellow fangs.
Dressed in the robe the young lady pursues the fleeting
static like a bread crumb trail till she descends
into the college's dank crawl space, Nick has a secret
hide-away down here where he practices his most dangerous
spells. She told him not to mess with Coburn's Goetia,
the combined powers of that and the library's text would be too much for him to handle, looks like she was correct.
On hands and knees she grimaces crawling through the
dirt but after ten minutes she has arrived before
that heavy iron door. Bracing her strength against
it Ethel manages to budge the huge hinges ajar to the
sound of that bleating wail. She hesitates. Again it
comes and peering in she sees Hobbes entwined within worm like appendages being dragged inexorably toward that gapping chasm mouth.
'Osartum, moratinum, benedictious-el magnificent!'
Flicking her hands toward the beast it yelps
as flash after flash appears before its eyes, blinding.
The flesh about the face shrinks and peels like melting
rubber and it finally releases its victim. Scooping him up and taking the Goetia, Nick grasping his staff,
Ethel heaves him out leaving the monster behind
the now locked door. A concentrated power surge plus
the reading of Goetia prayers submerge the circular
room in high level waves of energy, like water going
down the plug the representative screams and blasphemes as, it a tidal wave of power, it is broken apart and dissolved back to its
original plane of existence.
