The Mournful Few (IC)

C

Chris_Reaper

Guest
Original poster
Cayden stood with his back to the wall, the cavernous expanse of the sanitized hallway brimmed over with the echoes of the demented screams and moans of the of the deranged residents that were locked behind the numerous doors that lined the corridor. This was the Jedidiah Hollows state sanitarium for the criminally insane. Cayden cracked his knuckles in a nervous twitch as his eyes darted around, glancing to and fro at the unsettling Gothic architecture. Jedidiah Hollows was one of the oldest asylums in the continental United States, situated in a scenic part of the Adirondack Mountains. Cayden and his companions had been summoned by an old friend of Cayden's father to investigate a supposed demonic possession. Suddenly the group is approached from behind by an elderly black man, who wore the traditional garb of a Catholic priest.

"Sorry to keep you waiting, bureaucracy tie ups and all... " said the man.

Cayden whirls around, mildly startled by the suddenness "Son of a bitch, probably not the best idea to sneak up on somebody in a place like this Father."

The older man smiles "My apologies. Cayden my boy, it's a been awhile." he says as he shakes Cayden's hand.

"Likewise Father Druis. I was a little surprised that you contacted me, given my line of work and all. Tell me, when did the Church start overseeing nut houses for the criminally insane?"

"Well the Arch Dioceses has had joint contracts with many of the sanitariums in the area for a little while now. We work with correctional law enforcement to introduce an element of spirituality to the inmates as part of their rehabilitation." says Father Druis as he nods his head with a pause "But to the point I suppose. The reason I contacted you Cade is because I know of your work in this particular field and this specific case has me stumped."

"Well if it's a suspected possession case, why not just requisition a few Exorcists from the Arch Diocese?"

"Well there's a lot of bureaucratic red tape involved, like I mentioned before. Plus the Church has been taking a hard lined stance against cases of supposed possession. They won't deploy a team of Exorcists unless they deem it absolutely necessary. Quite frankly I was growing desperate and didn't know who else to call."

Cayden smirks at this "Alright than, well let's see what we're working with. Lead the way, Father."

Father Druis produces a large ring filled with jangling keys as he leads the team down the hallway to a secluded part of the corridor. He unlocks the door to one of the last entrances in the corridor, which leads to a dimly lit room. Inside the room there is a two way mirror and on the other side of the mirror there lies a haggard and disheveled man bound by a straight jacket. Flanking him are two burly orderlies tasked with keeping him restrained. The man in the straight jacket looks up, copious amounts of drool escaping his mouth. His eyes are fully dilated and his gaze is so intense, it's almost as if he can see through the mirror to the team in the other room.

Cayden crosses his arms "Well I'll be damned...Linda Blair eat your heart out."

Father Druis flips through a file in his hand "The subject was picked up about two weeks ago by local police. He was incoherent , all he kept repeating was the phrase "The reign of Baphomet is nigh..."

Cayden narrows his eyes slightly "Any I.D.?"

"None...we ran his fingerprints through just about every database in the system but came up empty. The subject is quite violent, so much so that we've had to rotate him on a steady prescription of high grade sedatives just keep him somewhat docile."

Cayden strokes his chin and looks over to Felix Pavarotti, one of his team "What do you think Pavarotti? You picking up any fluctuations on the Spectrum Reader?"

@TheUnworthy @RobinBriarwood @RedFox @Zora18
 
To some it might seem disturbing that he doesn't have a reaction to a place like this. His Grandmother before her health complications was in a place like this. This is something he was used to, he's learned to drown out the screaming and moaning wailing of agony. It's not that he is immune to sympathy, but he's currently focused on the task at hand. Listening into the conversation between Cayden and the priest. Though a bit distracted with his detection device. It's on the fritz. And in a place like this. Energy accumulates in places like this, stuck to the walls and heavy in the air. He cannot tell if the Spectrum Reader is picking up the priest, the patients, or the area itself. He beats the side of it.

He notices the look from another company member, "It works. I promise."

They just roll their eyes. He's known for his devices to be semi flippant. It's not entirely his fault. People don't want to believe that the area around them absorbs the energy around them.

Cayden "What do you think Pavarotti? You picking up any fluctuations on the Spectrum Reader?"

"This place is on the fritz," he responds, "I am getting readings everywhere."

He thinks he hears someone say, "that's because it doesn't work."

"It works fine," he remarks, "This place is charged with energy."
 
A sanatorium wasn't the first place Cassandra expected to be when joining the group of eccentric paranormal investigators. Without the memory of her friend going full-possessed and being purged by a covert group of demon hunters, she would probably be at a library or something. Somewhere more chill. Of course, this building was also incredibly cold, and she cursed herself for not wearing a sweater.

The group she managed to track down using a little bit of luck, and a lot of asking around, didn't fully acknowledge her yet as a member. She could tell. All groups take a while to accept new members, it was clear in high school as it was in college. The more-or-less de-facto leader of the group, Cayden, seemed to know people in weird levels of the church that dealt with exorcisms and demonology. That was exciting. Cass always considered religion to be a bit silly and pointless, but if evil forces truly existed, then perhaps they weren't so lame after all.

Father Druis seemed to be part of those mysterious echelons of the church. He said that the drooling straight-jacket man mentioned the reign of Baphomet being nigh. Wasn't Baphomet mentionned in a witchcraft book as being technically non-Satanic but often associated with Satanism... Scattered facts began to arise. Idol worship in medieval Europe. Heavy metal artwork. Alistair Crowley being freaky. The Greek goat god Pan.

Her musings were cut short by the technology guru, Felix Pavarotti, as he pulled out some contraption like a true mad engineer would do, with its wavy display and classic tech noises. He replies to Cayden, and says something about energy being everywhere. Something struck out to Cassandra. The word fritz. A brilliant word. Also a great name. Felix looked a bit like a Fritz.

She decided to make her presence known by asking about the scan, "Hey Fritz, what kind of energy does that thing detect anyway?"
 
On most days, a place like this would be well avoided for the sake of her psyche, a twinge of anxiety flickering in her mind for a moment. But Marinah Aamilah needed answers to many questions, and this was what she thought was the best place to look, even if it was absolutely creepy. A shiver slithering down her spine like an ice cube slipped down her sweatshirt

The woman was even more creeped out by the interior, It was exactly what she had been expecting of the place. Looked honest to god like something out of a horror film. The madman currently foaming at the mouth like a rabies infested hound didn't exactly help matters much, she avoided getting too close once she saw him. Unnerved.

Marinah wasn't a christian, but she was familiar with things related to the belief. She didn't know if this was comforting or just made things more disturbing for her

Only comfort she had was that she wasn't facing any of this alone, there were these other people with her
Marinah didn't know these people too well, they probably had their reasons for being here like her as well. Though for different yet similar reasons. Different reasons seeking similar goals

She suddenly felt a pressure along her left shoulder made itself known, a invisible weight leaning in, pushing lightly against her like an ocean wave. A gentle touch at the edge of her cheek. That's right, she'd almost forgot about that thing. The 'It' that currently was fond of following her around, her expression struggled to remain neutral. The others probably couldn't see or hear it, so no use making them knowing of it. Luckily it wasn't too close to the mirror to be seen

"He wants forbidden enlightenment" 'It' whispers in her ear, voice crackling like a dying vintage record

Marinah didn't know what it meant, since it rarely gave her context after it spat out such cryptic things. It didn't always speak like this, only when it tried to hint at something. She'd always have to guess though, and she assumed right now it spoke of the man currently at the other side of the mirror

Pushing the thought out of her mind, she changed the context personally and decided to assess something else. To distract herself

She turned her attention to Felix "Are you saying that thing can find ghosts or something" She asked, gaze flickering down to the device in his hands
 
Last edited by a moderator:
James didn't expect to find himself to ever be in a santorium.... but then again, his life had always been full of unexpected things. Well, it had been since that night eleven years ago. But he didn't like to think about and he certainly didn't talk about it with the group. He still found it strange to be on all technical accounts, the oldest of the group, surpassing even Cayden by about five years, when in all actuality, he was the second youngest member of them. Of course, he couldn't tell them without mentioning other things. And he wasn't ready to talk to them about that. Hell, to this day, he didn't even know what happened. He just knew he was changed by it. Damn it, he was losing his train of thought. It was a good thing that he could act wise.

What the fuck was that? He thought he heard the sound of a dying vintage record, but there wasn't a record player in place. Well, maybe he was being paranoid. This was a place where mad men and women resided. It was probably just putting him on edge. Though, there was a small part of him that believed he belonged here. A small part that wondered if this would be where he was if he had stayed, instead of ran. Okay, compartmentalize. Ignore doing that thing where he acted younger than he looked. He needed to put on an act. It was a good thing that he was a theatre kid when he was in elementary school and learned to slide into roles. Though, he had to remember who he was.... he didn't want to lose that at all. He would take a deep breath.

Wise, sage, member of the group who was a germaphobe,. Slide into that role. Become that man. " I think he has mentioned that it is supposed to pick up supernatural energies.... it's just a little fickle in working." He would turn to the priest and look over at him. " What type of violent? Is he trying to harm the other people in the room or trying to harm himself? Also, outside of the phrase, was he still talking before he got violent or did the phrase repeating stop when the violence started?" He would walk over to the mirror and place his hand over it. He looked over at the man, watching him.

He was going to continue to do this when he felt his palm on the glass. Fuck. He would quickly move his hand into his pocket, removing his glove and it falling to the ground. James would use his spare gloved hand to pick it up, see that it had another hole in it and shoved it into his pocket where he kept a dead cricket that he decayed before anyone could see it. He knew that the supernatural sometimes aggravated his powers.... something was definitely here. Hopefully he was quick enough that there had been no damage to the glass. He would watch the man, seeing if there had been a reaction. Had he or the orderlies seen the glove decay? Oh fuck...... maybe he could explain it as the cheap fabric. " Where did the police find him?" He asked as his final question. " Also, may we see the file?" He probably shouldn't handle it though. The longer he spent here, the more he felt his powers were going to be fritzy. He had been fine in the hallway.... whatever had affected the strange voice and Felix's device was most likely causing his powers to have a very negative reaction.

At least nothing else strange was hoping. Unbeknowest to James, the cricket in his pocket start to gain some life back. Hopefully that wouldn't be a problem later.
 
" What type of violent? Is he trying to harm the other people in the room or trying to harm himself? Also, outside of the phrase, was he still talking before he got violent or did the phrase repeating stop when the violence started?"

Father Druis looked over to James and casually hands him the file "The patient seems to exhibit general psychosis and has displayed a considerable level of violence to most of our staff, however we don't have any evidence that he's tried to harm himself, at least not yet."

"Alright well we're not getting anything done just standing around here. Tell you what, since there seems to be a lot of ambient energies around, maybe we can pick up some useful secondary readings. James, I want you to take the two noobs here and record any residual readings."

Cayden reached inside his jacket and tosses James two small devices "Take the portable FLIR and the EVP recorder, see what you can pick up. Hit every nook and cranny in the joint, I'm talking attics, basements, broom closets, all of it. Pavarotti, your with me. Father lead the way..."

Cayden and Pavarotti pass James and the two women, led by Father Druis. Cayden taps James on the shoulder on the way out "If you run into any trouble, report back here and we'll figure out where to go from there."

A few seconds later Father Druis escorts Cayden and Pavarotti into the adjacent room containing the bound man in the straight jacket. The two burly orderlies stand by the door, while the man in the straight jacket is hunkered in one corner of the room, drool still dripping from his mouth.

Cayden addresses one of the orderlies "Has he said anything else besides the whole Baphomet schtick?"

"Not a damn thing. In fact he's been unusually quiet for the past hour."

"We keep him on a constant cycle of Pheno-triptide every four hours or so. It's the strongest sedative we have." says Father Druis.

"If you want to know something, why not ask the source..." says the man in the straight jacket as he ominously turns his upward to look at the five men on the other side of the room.

"Well I'll be dipped, Pavarotti get on those readings, tell me what your picking up." says Cayden with a hint of excitement in his voice.

"That's the first time he's uttered anything other than his warnings about Baphomet" says Druis.

"Cover my flanks boys, I'm goin in." says Cayden as he slowly approaches the man in the straight jacket. Cayden stops a few feet away from the man and crouches down until he is eye level with the crazed looking patient "Let's have a conversation you and me huh?"

The man simply grins slightly and begins to emit a blood curdling laugh...
 
Cassandra, upon hearing her new duty, was ready. In fact, her years of exploring the nooks and crannies of friend's houses to confirm the nonexistence of ghosts can finally come in handy, in a slightly reversed fashion. Broom closets, Cayden mentioned, along with attics and basements. Absolutely.

"Alright Marinah, James, let's find some spooks. Shall we try the basement and work our way up?", she said, picking a direction she vaguely remembered seeing a staircase and grabbing Marinah's arm. Catching a strange hesitant glance from James she remembered, "Right, you don't do touching, no worries, I respect that - But come along then!"

The newly divided gang two sauntered along with their weird new machines. There was a stairwell, doubling as an exit, evidenced by a glowing green EXIT sign hovering atop the doorway. "This seems about right. If this place has a basement, that is." Dust settled atop the door frame, two swinging push doors, stark white, with metal lining the lower parts.

"Make sure the thingies - the ghost trackers - the... those things in your hands, are on. I've never used one but you seem confident enough."
 
Marinah looked over to Cassandra once the other woman started speaking. Her eyebrows creased in mild worry, though she did try her best to keep the concerned expression subtle, biting her lip

''Basement hunting with just three people seems a bit risky, don't you think?" Marinah mentioned, voice low, very uncertain sounding. The idea of prowling around a dark, possibly spiderweb infested basement was less than ideal. Ghosts or not, the thought alone was unappealing

"Besides, Shouldn't we not split up or something?"

'It' shifted to perching on her other shoulder, delight scattered in its gravelly voice "Lots of things hide in basements" The thing cheerfully informed her, as if she wasn't already aware of that fact. The spectre was practically squealing with joy in her ear

Marinah glanced over her shoulder. Well, tro anyone else it would look like it, but Marinah had the keen sense as to where the entity usually was, even though she herself couldn't actually see it

"Would you shush?" She whispered, but the only reply the entity gave with another giggle. Marinah had the feeling it might be messing with her
 
"I mean, we could wait for the priest or someone. But it's just a basement, slightly darker, slightly moldier. Besides, we are looking for so-called residual readings, not scrappy fights with demons.", Cassandra let go of Marinah's arm and gave a reassuring grin to James. She peered through the small door-window curiously.
"I definitely don't want to split up from you two, but we were told to explore the basement, I'm sure the boss wouldn't send us to die in the abyss so casually."

She pushed on the left door and walked on through, holding it open for the others. "After you?", she asked with a snarky smirk, hoping for the insistence to work its magic.
 
James knew that there was something to be said about the file being so casually. There had been a few perks to looking older than he actually was and this was certainly one of them. Nobody questioned him when he wanted something. He would skim through the file as he listened to the priest. All of these sound pretty typical of both the supernatural and crazy people. He often learned that the line often blurred between the two.

The second thing was that Cayden trusted him. He would catch the FLIR and EVP recorder, knowing what was about to come now. He was going to be put in charge. He would nod and flinched a bit when Cayden tapped him on the shoulder. " Yeah, I know the usual drill when it comes to finding trouble. I don't want to find it and will tell you the second that I do." Before he could get a chance to argue, the girls would be off. He would follow, looking at the screen and checking for things. He took a moment to pause when he thought he heard something. It was probably nothing. " We're probably going to find a lot of strange things, asylums often hold many secrets." He would tune the EVP recorder to see if there was anything being picked up.....

" So, after the basement, where do you want to hit up next?"
 
"I'd imagine we'd get the basement over with, and then work our way up. Unless we find... ah never-mind, let's head down!"

Cassandra imagined secret secrets in the basement, hidden passageways and rooms even further than there should be, filled with evil robed sycophants to be vanquished and brought to justice. More likely it would just be generic hospital paraphernalia, some closets, if they were lucky they would find some readings. But on the off chance there were more sinister things, implements of torture and more, she was ready.

She let the other two members of her split-group through the doorway and down the stairs, James in the lead, Marinah right behind, followed by Cassandra. As they descended, she hurried ahead a bit to walk next to Marinah and gave her a smile.

"You alright? Seemed a bit hesitant earlier. Don't worry, we will get to the bottom of this... Staircase. And this case." She leaned in to whisper privately, "Also are you avoiding someone, you're looking behind sometimes.. just concerned, but we're in this together"

Cassandra hoped James wouldn't hear, just to not cause any worries. The guy seemed serious, the type to not let any setback slide. The 24/7 gloved hands didn't disprove the hypothesis, only adding to his non-lax nature. If he heard, she assumed he'd pressure Marinah on the subject and cause even more stress. Of course, not having anyone to talk to would do the same thing to the slightly frightened girl.
 
Marinah was stiff, each step down those stairs was tense and reluctant. Old wood creaked and groaned under her shoes with each placement of her feet on the rickety planks, there was a real concern for a moment that the wood might break completely under her. She clung slightly to the handrail with one hand

Her eyes adjusted to the darkness of the basement. Yet, it was what she'd expected. A creepy, rundown basement with who knows what was roaming around there. If she saw some sort of creep, she'd freak.

Her attention turned to the other woman, blinking back into a more alert mindset "Huh? Oh, yeah, I just don't like the idea of going in some creepy, dark basement that's likely swamping with spiders and whatever else" She replied as she went down another step

Marinah flinched when Cassasdra mentioned her looking over her shoulder and all that. Damn, she thought that had been subtle

"So much she doesn't knoooow~ So close yet so far from the truth, clever clever" Came the sing-song voice of the entity in her ear . The woman had to force herself not to glare in the direction its voice was coming from

"I...It's nothing, don't worry about it" Marinah answered, voice quiet and unsure
 
"Gotcha. The offer to talk still stands.", she told Marinah.

Before they knew it, the trio found themselves in the basement, just past a layer of free swinging doors that objected to being pushed open. The basement was another long hall, but as opposed to the molding white walls of the previous floor, old cobblestone lined a wide hallway with steel doors cut into the sides. At the end of the hallway was a newer addition, a wooden door indicating something like a closet. The basement also neglected to put up signs, seemingly abandoned or unused, or simply made unassuming.

Water could be heard trickling through some unseen ravine behind, perhaps under the stone. An echoing drip assailed the ears, rhythmic and repetitive with the slightest variation every so often, throwing the mind off track. It smelled slightly damp, but not wet, as if there was a river on the other side of the walls, seeping into certain rooms, but the hallway itself was dry. The edges were grey with dust, lit by a jumble of electric lighting, the circuitry visibly running along the top right edge, held by hooks, every six meters another yellow light bulb drooping downwards off the wall. They were stable, not flickering as one would expect of neglected wiring.

Moths had made their way into the basement, feeding off something unknown and hugging their light sources. A few of the critters flew across the hallway and through the slot of a metal door to the left.

"Lovely place. I guess we'd better start scanning."
 
You must log in or register to reply here.
Top Bottom
Back