# Zombies D20 Modern (Updated 8-12-05)



## johndaw16 (Feb 24, 2005)

*Friday, September 29th*

The laptop screen flickered faintly as its batteries slowly died.  The fading electric light gave the abandoned Jeep's windshield an eerie glow.  In the pulsing orange of the hazard lights the words College Creek could barely be read off a roadside sign.  

This is what the Jeep's driver was reading before he abandoned it...  

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Email sent on 9/15/2005 (approx. 7:30 PM)

Hi AJ, 

Julie Stey, one of the members from this area has relayed some info to me on a possible case. 

Apparently one of her friends has some "guests" that like to turn on a music box late at night in her 3 yr old daughter’s room. It scares the heck out of the little girl. They also make other audible noises throughout the house. I told Julie that instead of writing everything to me in IM, I would call her this evening to get all the details. I will let you know what I find out. 

Take care, 
Steve 

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Email sent on 9/15/2005 (approx. 11:20 PM)

Hi AJ, 

Update on the house...I just got off the phone with Julie, I believe this house bears looking into. Here is what I know: 

Amanda (a single mom) and Susan (daughter) have been living in the house about 2 months. Almost immediately, Amanda noticed Susan would no longer sleep through the night and would come into her room saying she’s scared. There is an old fashioned music box melody that "plays" faithfully every night from 12 mid - 3am. *There is no music box in the house.* When Amanda or Susan is upset the music will get progressively louder. Julie says she has heard the music too. Unattended objects have a tendency to disappear or move on their own. There is a smell as if "an old person" is sometimes in Susan's room. Amanda’s seen the outline of a male in her bedroom. The garage door sometimes opens by itself. Lights go on and off in sequence by themselves. Apparently just a few nights ago Amanda told Julie that objects were flying around her room by themselves. Amanda’s cats will hiss at "things" that aren't there. And starting just this past week... Susan's voice is deeper at times; she is cruel and uses language not associated with a little 3 yr girl. One night Susan was being extremely difficult as most 3 yr olds can be at times but Amanda asked her why....Susan said "because I like to see you cry".  This all definitely sounds like something we’d want to look into. 

Some history on the house....built in the late 20's or early 30's. A man hung himself in the garage back in the 50's and an older woman died in what is now Susan's room. The previous owner's fled suddenly in the middle of the night according to the neighbors who now own the home. Currently Julie is trying to gather some more background. 

Getting back to the “man” this is what Julie’s discovered in her research....according to those who knew him he wasn't a nice man.  He was by all accounts one of those treat women like crap kind of guys, probably thought he was hot stuff or something. Amanda describes him as: James Dean or Billy Zane looking, not thin but not built, 28-32, 5'11"-6'1", very dark hair in a T-shirt and black or very dark blue pants probably jeans.  That is at least the guise he’s chosen when he appears in front Amanda.  Susan’s description is much simpler; “he’s simply the monster that lives in the garage”. 

Julie is going to call Amanda and set up an initial visit. I probably won't talk to Amanda until we get over there....hopefully on a Monday so i can stay there till after midnight to hear the music.  I will let you know as I gather more info. 

Take care,
Steve

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Email sent on 9/20/2005 

Hey AJ (this is a long one), 

I received an emergency IM from Julie regarding Amanda and her daughter....things were really heating up, especially with Susan and the "music". Apparently Susan has been ill lately and the doctors have no idea why she is sick. She will run these very high temperature spikes that appear within minutes for no explanation, stay elevated for awhile and then dissipate just as rapidly. Luckily I was able to setup an initial this past Monday, combine what happened there with Susan’s illness and I’m starting to get worried.  Here’s what happened…

I arrived at about 9pm. It is an older home as I said before...one level. The garage (where the man hung himself) is a detached unit that used to be a beauty salon. 

Walking into the house you enter the living room....Amanda’s room is just to the left....Susan's room is the next door on the left just inside the combination Dining Room/Kitchen area. The laundry room is in an addition at the back of the house. A bathroom is shared between Amanda’s and Susan's room. As I walked into the house and met Amanda Susan emerged from Amanda’s room...she won't sleep in her own room and I can't blame her. 

I introduced myself to Susan...she was shy at first but warmed up to me fairly quickly. I moved into the Dining Room/Kitchen and heard the "Music" for the first time. As soon as this started, Susan started "laughing"...not a little girl laugh but a sort of maniacal laughing with a deep tone. She was staring at us with her head tilted down and looking up at the same time and doing a ring around the rosy around her mom.  The music and Susan’s behavior lasted a handle of seconds before they both stopped.  Susan immediately began crying and was nearly hysterical with fright.  This was about 9:15pm. I attempted to locate the source of the "music" which to me appeared to be coming from the vicinity of the refrigerator in the laundry room. I spent the next 15mins taking pictures.

I finished my picture taking and I went into Susan's room to place a VOX recorder. While in there... I felt a presence...something to do with under the house or outside of it. Then I went outside to check out the garage while Amanda and Susan stayed inside. 

As I rounded the front of the house...I saw "him" go into the garage. He looked just like he was described to me before. I ran to catch up and rushed into the garage...nothing....I noted a ladder leading to a space above the garage. At 1010, I entered what used to be the old laundry room before the addition...nothing really eventful there. I then entered what used to the beauty shop....again nothing eventful there. Lastly, I climbed the ladder going upstairs...It was freezing up there; I took a bunch of pictures but didn’t see anything. I sat there for a few minutes to see what would happen all I noticed was a cobweb toward the right middle, stretching from the rafters, going straight down just a few feet in front of us. I sat there a few minutes more then climbed back down and left the garage. 

I sat with Amanda and Susan in the living room and got out my notebook. I asked Susan to tell me about the monster she saw. Susan said he was unhappy that he didn't have a home...and we needed to take him to Chucky Cheese's (yes...we laughed at that one ). I asked her if there was anyone else who talked to her...Susan said yes...I asked how many...Susan counted on her fingers 1, 2, 3, 4. Susan said they were all lost and needed help. Am I freaking you out yet? 

The rest is pretty uneventful expect for some points.  We gave Susan my small blue flashlight to play with because she liked it....it worked for about 15 mins and then the brand new batteries went dead  Also when I was leaving and I went to get the VOX from Susan's room.....it's batteries were dead too. These batteries did not come from the same package, were different brands, bought at different stores, all new. A bit more disturbing was when Susan began playing with the organ that is in the living room...and I swear AJ...she played the first 3 or 4 notes of the music I heard earlier that night. 

Anyway...I’ve rambled enough...and I am sure I missed something to tell you...but I left at around 1245am. I feel...no I know that something is going on there...and it is messing with this little girl, who ....and I am stating the obvious...is very gifted.  Let me know your thoughts....we really need to do something soon. Oh...btw....no fever on Susan the whole time we were there...she fell asleep about 12:15am 

Take care,
Steve


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## johndaw16 (Feb 25, 2005)

*Ghosts of the Past: Prelude*

*Tuesday, Sept. 19th*

Early afternoon, at a private residence in Newport News 

Mark McDaniel sat in the house's dining room idly drumming his fingertips on the glass table top.  He made sure to be off work early today, he wanted to be sure that he got back before Amanda did with Susan.  Mark glanced at the digital clock on the stove, 5:23 PM, almost time.  He stood up put a stern frown on his face and started to rehearse what he was going to say one more time... 

5:34 PM

Amanda cursed one more time under her breath as she caught the fifth light on Warwick Blvd. on her way home.  She originally planned on being home a little early so she could have a hot dinner and a cold one waiting for her new boyfriend Mark.  He’d been so understanding lately, accepting Susan’s odd behavior and even agreeing to sleep in her room for the entire two weeks he’d stayed with them.  

_Maybe this weekend I can get Julie to watch Susan for a bit and I can make it up to him._

The thought of Julie brought a frown to her face.  Her best friend hadn’t approved of Mark, their relationship, or the fact that he’d moved in with her in such a short time.  Julie kept telling her that she had enough problems to handle without adding the complexity of a boyfriend into the mix.  She’d even had the gall to tell Amanda that her time might be better spent paying attention to Susan...

5:56 PM

As soon as Amanda walked through the door she knew something was wrong.  Mark was standing in middle of the living room, arms crossed and frowning.  

“Where’ve you been?” Mark stepped forward uncrossing his arms and taking a seat on the couch.  “You think you have time to sit down and have a talk?” 

“Oh uhhh sure baby, I’m real sorry we’re so late. Traffic was killer.”  Amanda rushed into the kitchen grabbed a juice and a Fruit by the Foot for Susan.  “Honey here you go why don’t you go play in Mommy’s room? Ok.” 

_Good she’s already worried; this is going to be easier than I thought.  I’ll finally be getting laid and have that brat kid sleeping in her bed._   Mark got up for a beer and leaned against the kitchen wall.  “Don’t you think it’s a little strange for your boyfriend to be sleeping in your _child’s_ room for two weeks straight?”  

"I know Mark, I'm real sorry 'bout all that. It's just that she's still really young, afraid of monsters. You know."  Amanda tried to lay a soothing hand on Mark's chest, but he just took a step back and turned away.  

"C'mon Amanda she's almost four now she's got to learn to sleep on her own sometime.  It's a bit ridiculous."  

"She's not that old Mark, don't you try to tell me how to raise my child" 

"I'm not saying that baby.  It's just that...I'm really trying here, trying to get to know you two.  And its not easy." 

Amanda's head fell at those words.  She had heard the same thing before, and everytime it still hurt.  "I know its tough, and I know you're trying.  I'm...I'm sorry."  

Amanda cursed to herself, she could hear her voice quivering and feel the tears coming.  _No not now if you cry again you'll scare him off for sure.  Stop it!!_  But it was too late and the tears started to come, silent ones slowly leaving a hot wet trail on her cheeks, ruining her makeup.  

Mark turned around when he knew Amanda was crying, he had to remember to wipe the smirk off his face.  She was so easy to play.  That was when he saw Susan in the doorway.  He took a step towards her and knelt down.  "Hey sweetie, do you want another juice?"  

But something was _wrong _ with Susan, _very wrong_.  Her face was screwed painfully into the parody of smug grin.  Her eyes glowed with a sickly yellow color.  And then she began to laugh, a deep bass laugh, rich and echoing.  

"What the ****!!!"  Mark stumbled back nearly knocking Amanda over, dropping his beer with a crash of  shattering glass.

Susan looked up at Mark still chuckling slightly.  "Awww...Don't stop now...I like to see her cry."


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## (Psi)SeveredHead (Feb 26, 2005)

Post characters!

I know you said it's fiction, but you also mentioned _D20_ Modern, so I guess you have game stats for the PCs. (And if not, please remove the D20 from the title.)

I'm a sucker for any modern adventure, so expect lots of page views.


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## thatdarncat (Feb 26, 2005)

I'm more disappointed about the lack of zombies. But very well written so far


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## Paxr0mana (Feb 27, 2005)

We were promised Zombies!


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## johndaw16 (Feb 27, 2005)

First off, thanks for the praise thatdarncat, its my first attempt at a SH or any actual writing, so bear with me.  

Second, sorry about the lack of zombies guys.  Thats what my players dubbed the game after the first week of playing.  The name stuck so I titled the SH Zombies for the benefit of my players (however I think if threw anymore zombies at my group they might try and hurt me   ).

SeveredHead I can't promise character stats soon, but as soon as I get enough time on my hands I'll post them.  The first two post are fiction and don't actually feature any of the PCs.  Future posts will involve the PCs and leave the realm of fiction and move into actual gameplay, and as soon as that happens I'll try to follow it up with some stats.  

John


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## johndaw16 (Mar 14, 2005)

*Ghosts of the Past: Episode I...AJ's Letter*

This is a transcription of the letter that A.J. Morton left wedged into the gate at the Scufflefield House, addressed to Rich, Jessica, and Meredith. 

Guys, 

I'm not one to ask for help but in this case my mere journalism isn't enough.  I'm worried so I'll be brief.  A little more than two weeks ago a friend and subscriber to the Red Herring emailed me a story and possible scoop.  His name's Steve, he's an important local organizer of the VaGHRS, so he's got a lot of experiance with the paranormal under his belt.  He got involved in what I think is a pretty intense haunting at a N. N. residence.  Lately though, as I'm sure you already know, the local paranormal environment is in some sort of turmoil.  A lot of reports have come across my laptop and I'm worried that something went wrong with Steve and his work.  Since his last contact on the 20th, he's been MIA.  He's unreachable by any means, even my Ouija board and 8-ball are coming up blank!!!  I'm working a case out in Williamsburg and the counties, but you should call my cell so we can set up a meeting.  

c-757-269-5508

AJ


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## johndaw16 (Mar 14, 2005)

All right so I'm about to jump into the actual events and action that involves my PCs, so I figure I should give a little bit of background on the game for anyone thats interested.  The campaign began as a one-shot horror game using the at the time "new" d20 Modern rules.  The one-shot scarred the heck out of my players and they were itching for more and begged me to make it an actual game of it, so Zombies was born and has been running strong for nearly a year and a half.  

Zombies has really only been my second full-fledged campaign as a GM, and overall I've been really happy with the results.  I've been lucky enough to have three extremely talented players that have been able to really get into and bring to life their respective characters.  The cast of characters currently is: 

Richard "Rich" Fiorella - PC
Jessica Baker - PC
Meredith Gray - PC
Portia "Po" Santiago - GM NPC 

This story hour starts in the middle of the current campaign and doesn't contain any account of the characters past adventures.  I'm just not prepared to start at the beginning of the campaign.  I'm too far past it to remember what happened with much accuracy and my game notes are pretty abyssmal.  Anyways the SH is stepping in at the beginning of the next and what could be the final big story arc for the game.  It revovles primarily around an old enemy of the party, a demon by the name of Dantalion.  The party ran into him early early on and hes been a constant problem for the PCs ever since.  Dantalion particularly hates Rich and does everything within his power to frustrate, taunt, and generally terrorize him.   

As for the general mechanics and style of the game itself.  Like I said it uses the d20 Modern rules.  Mind you there a quite a few house rules in play and I generally haven't stuck too closely to some elements of the rules.  A few notable game system things going on are the magic system (a variant of the Medallions SH magic rules), WP/VP system, and the lack of a mechanic representing wealth.  The style I try to get at is one thats gritty and real, with a very mysterious sort of horror.  I've blended things like vampires, fey, Lovecraftian themes, demons, and of course TONS TONS TONS of zombies into the stories.  I generally don't like to follow the typical preconcieved ideas that my players have concerning things like vampires or fey just to keep things new, fresh, and surprising (for example vampires have NO problem hanging out in full sunlight IMC).  

Another note and a bit of thanks that I need to give. I've lurked here on the SH boards for some time now and I've read a lot of SH's and I've gotten a lot of ideas and inspiration from various stories.  Just a short list off the top of my head includes, Sep's SH, Medallions, First Sight, and the Drunk Southern Girls SH.  There have been many many more and I thank all the authors for their amazing work.  That said I've yoinked some elements and put them in my game, I hope no one minds.  It's just that some ideas are too good to pass up.  I recommend all the mentioned SH's they're all great and whatever things I imitate in my game and post will definately not hold a candle to the original works.  

That said we just all got back from spring break and tonight was our first game back.  It was a short uneventful one that sets up a lot of the action to come.  I'll hopefully have a full update and write up posted by Wed. or Thurs.  _I hope. _  Well that was way longer than I thought it'd be, oops.  Later. 

John


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## johndaw16 (Mar 21, 2005)

*Ghosts of the Past: Episode I...Good Morning, Sunshine.*

*Sunday, Oct. 1st*

The house smelled like bacon and fresh brewed coffee.  The kitchen curtains were drawn and mid-morning sun warmed the air.  Bowls and spoons clattered, Amber happily slurped her OJ from her favorite Ghostbusters mug.  

This idyllic domestic scene was however lost upon the likes of Rich, Jessica, Mer, and Po.  They sat tightly huddled together, bent over something unseen upon the kitchen table.  

Po passed the letter around to her friends, letting them each read it in turn.  The letter (and the term’s application to this particular piece of paper is rather generous) circled the small group.  It really was no more than a faded piece of legal pad paper, hurriedly torn from its bindings, stained from Doritos, missing a large corner, and crumpled from being stuffed into a pocket.  She explained as they read, “Ander’s gave it to me this morning when I woke up, he found it wedged in the front gate.”  

“I thought Rich and his uh…antics with his shotgun scarred this kid off? What’s he doing back?”  Mer sat up and gave a jaw popping yawn, trying to summon up some sort of interest this _early_ in the morning.  

“I don’t know he seems to be asking us for some sort of help with his friend.  But I don’t know what he expects us to do about it.”  Jessica passed the letter on with a look that said her morning was ruined.

Po gave everyone seated a concerned look.  “Well he seems to know something.  And Rich, when you put this and your dream together it looks like there’s something going on.”    

Jessica and Mer echoed one another, “What *dream* Rich?!?!” 

Rich shrugged and handed the Sunday Daily Press towards the two ladies.  “It was last night, in the middle of my…_normal_ dreams; I got a visit…a visit from Dantalion.”  Mer’s breath caught in a hiss, and Jessica’s coffee cup hit its saucer loudly, they both looked at Rich in surprise.  “He said he left me a present in the morning paper today, Po and I read through it and the only thing we can find is this headline about Hilton Elementary.  Sorry, I forgot to tell you guys when AJ’s letter came up.”    

It took Jessica and Mer moments to skim the article and get the gist of what was happening.  

*Unknown Disturbances Close Local School*
Newport News

Early morning church- goers were given an unpleasant surprise as they drove down River Rd. and by Hilton Elementary today.  This small local elementary school is now the site of Newport News’ oddest unexplainable phenomenon.  Early this morning books, chairs, desks, and whole lunch tables created a frightening racket as they crashed through windows and against school doors.  Flashing lights and a flooded basement persist in defiance of city officials terminating power and water service.  However, the most disturbing sight greeted locals at dawn, with the macabre sight of a young black man being hung on the school’s front steps.  City officials assured residents that everything was under control, and that closing the school was to facilitate a proper cleanup.  Local churches generously offered their facilities to accommodate the displaced…​
The article continued on to recount the local urban legends surrounding the school. And true to the Daily Press’s questionable and sensationalist reporting, claimed on good authority that the disturbances were all the result of unruly ghosts.  

“C’mon do you really believe all that bull**** in that letter?  He’s just watched too much X-Files and Buffy.”  Mer couldn’t believe they were actually bothering with this nonsense at this hour.  She was rapidly losing her patience. 

“Well it can’t hurt anything to just give him a call guys.”  Po picked up the letter, looking at AJ’s hastily scrawled cell phone number at the bottom. 

With minimal further debate, everyone agreed to give AJ a call.  Reluctantly Jessica dialed the number, waiting through a half dozen rings before someone picked up.  As Jessica spoke her expression went from confusion to concern.  After a brief conversation she handed the phone to Rich.  

“He wants to speak to *you*.”  

“What’s the matter Jessica?”  Rich gingerly took the cell phone, as if it were an adder ready to strike.

“I think it’s Dantalion on the line.” 

Rich put the phone to his ear with a grim look of determination.  “Hello?” 

“Good morning Rich.”  A silky smooth almost sultry voice answered Rich.  “How are you, did you sleep well last night?  Pleasant dreams maybe?” 

“What do you want? Where’s AJ?”

“Ahhh...AJ is unavailable right now.  I just love to hear your voice in the morning Rich that’s all.  I don’t _want _ anything.”

Rich laughed out loud, almost insanely.  “What? You like to hear my voice in the morning?  You're crazy you think I have anything to say to you.  Goodbye.” 

“Goodbye, Rich.” 

*CLICK*

“So AJ's done for, Dantalion has him for sure if he’s answering his cell phone.”  Rich dropped the phone in disgust.  

“I wish he had talked to me more, I coulda thrown him off or something.  Told him that we weren’t going to help AJ.”     

“What do we do now?” Mer asked.  “I don’t want anything to do with that demon anymore.  Like we all said before this really doesn’t involve any of us.”  

“We can stick our heads up our a**es again.” Rich ruefully suggested.

“And we all saw how well that worked out last time.”  Po scowled at everyone else.  “We have to do something; we can’t just leave AJ or anyone with Dantalion we all know what he’ll do.”  

“We know that Po.  God only knows what he’s done.  I’m sure he’s already dead and disemboweled with his intestines tying him to a cross or something.”  Rich surprised everyone, even himself with the vehemence in his voice.  He paused to collect himself.  “I’m…sorry Po.  I’m just getting tired of everything Dantalion’s done.”

“Can’t you do something to him Rich, with your magic?  Put him in some sorta demon box.”  Jessica looked hopeful.  

“Hell half the time I can’t throw a fireball when I want to, how am I gonna put a demon in a box?”  

“Where do we start then?”  Mer sighed.  

“We got to find out where he’s at.  Williamsburg and the counties are pretty damn big.”  Po scanned the letter again looking for anything that’d help them.  “We know he has that comic shop maybe someone will know more there.  We should look up who the hell the VaGHRS are and the Red Herring too."	

Shortly they had all piled into one of the house cars, planning to visit Main Street Library and maybe see just how bad things were at Hilton Elementary...





***So that took longer than I expected, writing up a relatively mundane bit of the story like that takes me a long time.  The Red Herring is a e-zine that AJ runs in addition to his comic shop, its all about the occult, paranormal, conspiracy theories, and aliens.  The VaGHRS stands for the Virginia Ghosts and Hauntings Research Society, and it actually exists but under a new name now.  I attached two pictures of Hilton Elementary to the post.  One is of the front facade of the building as seen from River Rd. the other is just a picture of one of the schools hallways.  The urban legends about the school really are pretty ridiculous but the basement is really supposedly haunted.  There should be more posts coming shortly, and I've got another session tonight.  Later. 

John


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## Puppy Kicker (Mar 21, 2005)

Dang it johndaw, you got me hooked already.  I like the writing style (and of course the setting scores a bunch of extra points with me.  )  Keep it going.  I fully expect a robust and thriving story hour to read in a few months!  

PS - Any chance of getting some of the back story written in so we can see where the PCs are coming from, maybe little memory sequences or something?

PS version 2.0 - I like the included pictures.  I think it adds a lot to the story when there's a visual element to aid in the description.  pogre's SH cinched my loyalty that way.  Keep it up!


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## johndaw16 (Mar 21, 2005)

Good to see you reading Puppy Kicker, having you hooked and looking for updates puts some pressure on me to keep writing.  Using the local area as a setting has worked out really well for me.  Like I said I grew up here so I know all the ins and outs of Newports News and living in Williamsburg at W&M has helped too.  As for background on the PCs, I've got two talented writers as players and one has already said they'd be willing to write a memory or two for posting so you might get your wish.  I just wouldn't expect it anytime soon.   Tonights session went well and got into a little bit of action, so hopefully it'll be posted sooner than the previous one.  Later. 

John 

P.S. I enjoy pictures a lot myself, especially for a Modern game expect some more coming since I have access to plenty of digital cameras.


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## rich_fiorella (Mar 25, 2005)

*Dantalion's appearance (1)*

Hello All!  

I play Rich in our terrifying little "Zombies" campaign and my GM asked me to post a bit of backstory here for your general enlightenment.  Hopefully the dastardly intArweb will not eat THIS post; in order to try to avoid more wanton destruction, I'm going to break this post up into parts.  So, here you go - Rich's first encounter with Dantalion: 

***

It had only been by a concentrated effort of will that Rich had been able to keep from vomiting upon entering the crime scene.  If this was what a promotion to detective meant, he wasn’t sure he wanted it.  The girl’s parents (it was assumed) were on the walls.  She herself had been laid out on the table and opened up.  The inside of her was empty.  Sixteen years old, maybe seventeen.  There were pictures of her in the hall entryway: blow-dried hair and braces.  

Everything pointed to cult activity.  They’d found bodies buried in the basement.  Rich had discovered a hidden room behind the fireplace (he couldn’t get over it, the whole thing like some b-grade horror movie) with a book in it: _The Necromicon._  Among the straightforward illustrations of horrific acts was one that looked identical to what had been done to the girl out in the living room.  And then there was this that his partner Gabe had just discovered, beneath the charred patch of carpet.  

Rich and Gabe bent in to look.  “It’s a circle,” said Gabe.  “Been carved into the floor.”

Rich shook his head.  “Do you think—”

A girl’s voice:_ LEAVE NOW._

“Did you hear that, Gabe?”

Gabe looked back at him, silent.  

_Get out!  Get out!  He’s coming! 
_
Rich stood up suddenly, away from the circle.  The walls seemed to lurch at him again, as they had upon his entry.  He was aware, in a way that he had not been before, that they were the only two here, taking a further look around after everyone else had taken off.  It was quite dark outside.  

“Hey, um, you know, it’s getting late and my brain’s feeling sort of fuzzy.  You want to take a break, go grab a cup of coffee?”

Gabe stood and smiled at him.  “No Rich,” he said.  “I do not want coffee.”

Rich backed out of the room.  Gabe’s voice seemed wrong.  The girl was still screaming in his head: _What are you doing, you idiot?  I told you, get out get out!  Please, leave!
_
Sense (he was just getting freaked out by the blood on the walls, lack of sleep) warred with instinct (you survived that time in the swamp because you trusted your gut, _get out now_), and the detective lost to the animal.  He turned and walked quickly down the hall.  He had to get out of the house.

He was at the door; his hand was on the knob.  He heard the click but by that time it was too late to avoid it: the thing that slammed into his shoulder, spraying blood across the white door in front of him.  A tiny, strangely lucid part of him thought: _ah.  Now I’m decorating the house too._


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## rich_fiorella (Mar 25, 2005)

*Dantalion's appearance (2/end)*

It had been his right shoulder that was hit, and the numbness traveled down the arm into the hand on the knob. Work, turn, he demanded of his hand, but it slipped against the smooth surface. He glanced back, saw Gabe grinning, his Beretta balanced at arm’s length. 

“Surprised, Fiorella?”

_It’s him!_ wailed the girl in his head. _Idiot, why didn’t you leave when I told you? _

Terror surmounted the numbness; he clenched the knob, flipped the deadbolt, and fell out of the house as he heard the gun again fire. This time Gabe missed; Rich landed at the base of the three short steps, crabwalking backward onto the sidewalk. On his feet again, snatching for his gun.

“You sure you want to do that, Rich? Firing on an officer’s a pretty serious offense. They’ll never believe you.” 

Rich and Gabe fired simultaneously: Gabe took the shot, unflinching, in the thigh, and Rich felt a bullet graze his ear. 

Rich ran for his car, Gabe right behind him. He leaped into his old sedan, fumbled for his keys, and turned the ignition so hard that the engine groaned. Gabe had gotten into the other car. Rich yanked the gearshift into reverse. Halfway out of the driveway Rich felt himself flung sideways; the crunch of metal. Gabe had jammed him into a tree. He scrambled to the other side of the car and out the back door. He flipped open his cell as he ran, calling for backup as he panted: “Something’s wrong with Gabe; he just fired on me; acts like he’s drugged up – on crack or something – got a bullet in him, acts like it’s not even there.” _They’ll never believe you, they’ll never believe you._

Another shot. Rich screamed obscenities and dropped the phone on the asphalt. At least the dispatcher was hearing this. “Hell, Gabe, what the f-ck are you doing?” 

_It’s not Gabe anymore,_ Rich, said the girl’s voice. _The demon took him._

Rich brought his Beretta around behind him and let off another shot. It took his partner in the shoulder and Gabe just shook his head. “Bad idea, Rich.”

And came after him. Rich turned and ran; he was not particularly good at running. Hell, he’d been little more than a traffic cop until that incident in the swamp. Slightly overweight, high-school education, mediocre job performance. But it had been okay. Really, what was wrong with a decent house and a decent roommate and the occasional barbeque in the backyard? Did you need more than that? Why on earth had he ever wanted to be a detective? Why had he ever decided to go back to school? 

_Are you really this f-cking stupid?_ the girl was screaming at him. _Get off the street, move your fat ass!_

Rich turned and cut between two houses. Beautiful houses, really: the whole neighborhood was two-story buildings with manicured lawns, similar façades. He ran back along the high wooden fence, across a yard with a pool in it, scrambled over another fence, was running through yards that had automated security lights and plastic swingsets in primary colors. 

He emerged onto yet another residential street, indistinguishable from the other save for the lack of yellow crime scene tape. He could still hear Gabe behind him. Then, with relief, he heard sirens; saw blue lights reflected against white siding. 

The car slewed to a stop and two cops jumped out. Rich saw Gabe run past him, now focused on the newcomers to the scene. “Hold it right there!” shouted one of the men. 

“Hey! Hold it!” He leveled his gun.

Gabe swung his own firearm up. Rich knew Gabe had only two bullets left: just enough. The first cop dropped. The other man fired on Gabe, but it was, of course, useless. He had bent to rip the sidearm from the downed cop. Rich saw the other policeman, too, go down. It was obvious that both the men were dead.

Gabe went around the car, presumably to get the other weapon. Rich knew now that there was only one option for him. If he didn’t succeed, there was really nothing left to do. So now, all or nothing. He ran straight for the open driver’s-side door. He jumped over the dead man. Gabe spun around, now holding two Berettas. Rich dove into the car as the shot whistled overhead, and, not bothering to close the door, wrenched the car out of park, slammed his foot onto the accelerator, and screeched down the street. A bullet shattered his back windshield. He pressed the gas pedal harder.

The men were dead because of him. Because he had called for backup, they were dead. Rich pulled one door shut, leaned across the passenger’s side and slammed the other door. The car swerved slightly. 

He sped out of the neighborhood; didn’t let his heartrate down until he’d made it onto Warwick Boulevard. 

What had just happened? Where did he go now?

“Who are you?” he tried out in the cold interior of the car. Orange fluorescent light from streetlamps pulsed across his windshield. 

Maybe he was insane. Maybe he was honest-to-God schizophrenic. Maybe he had been the one who shot those cops, and he was just too much of a mess to realize it.

_You know that’s not what happened._

The girl’s voice again. 

“Who are you?” 

A pause._ I’m…my name is Mary._


“Where did you come from?”

_I…I don’t know. You were just…there and I just…I don’t know. I needed a place to go._

“Are you…were you…that girl in the living room?”

The voice was emphatic: _no._

“Then, one of those others, under the house?”

_I told you I don’t know._ Her voice became caustic. _Why are you worrying about_ that? _You’ve got a demon chasing you._

“All right, so, what the hell is going on? What happened to Gabe?”

_You saw what they did to that girl. You saw the circle and all that mess on the walls. They called him in. That f-cking moron thought he could handle a demon. He couldn’t, and now he’s loose. _

“Are you saying Gabe’s…possessed?”

_Are you slow or something?_

“So Gabe’s possessed by this demon. What now? Where do I go?” He thought, suddenly, to go to a church. Demons couldn’t stand holy ground, could they?

_Dumb, dumb, dumb. Doesn’t work that way, Rich. He can kill you just as easy in a church as anywhere else._ 

“I thought—”

_It might work if you actually believed, but I don’t think you do._

“I _could_ believe…”

A sensation which felt rather like a rolling of eyes. 

“We need to get rid of this car, for one thing.” He was already thinking in terms 
of “we.” 

_Get used to it, Rich. I haven’t got anywhere else to go. _


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## Peterson (Mar 25, 2005)

Wow.  What to say?

How about _Nice!_  Yeah, that's good.

Great storyhour - really, and I love your inspirations (Medallions, Drunk Southern Girls, etc)

Peterson


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## johndaw16 (Mar 29, 2005)

*Ghosts of the Past: Episode I...Good Morning, Sunshine...cont.*

*Sunday, Oct. 1st* 

Everyone tried to look casual as they walked into the Main St. Library, but they still stood out like a sore thumb in the crowd of parents and their kids.  Mer grimaced, her hands twitched as she tried to keep herself from taking a drag off her flask.  At her insistence they all sat at a corner computer upstairs.  

A few key strokes later and they were all reading over the latest headlines of the Red Herring.  Mer shook her head, how could anyone actually buy this garbage.  It was obvious AJ didn’t know a thing about how _it_ really was.  

The website had a slick design, theme music, CPU draining graphics, drop down menus to useful things like: Report a UFO, Alien Abduction Helpline, JFK Conspirator Most-Wanted List, and a Ghost Sighting Counter.  A digital supermarket tabloid on steroids ready to spam your hotmail account; the irony of it wasn’t lost on Mer.  Here she was, a *real* vampire, in a library surrounded by book club kids and their doting parents reading a worthless e-zine that spouted nonsense about the _unseen_ world.  Had she been this naïve too?  This oblivious to everything that went on everyday around them?  

Po interrupted her thoughts, “Hey, look at this guys.”  She clicked on last months issue; the leading article read _A Real-Life Fantastic Four_.  “Looks like AJ wasn’t kidding when he wanted an interview, he’s made us all some sorta superheroes.” 

“F***, that’s just great.”  Mer closed the page, going back to the main page.  “Like we need more attention, personally I don’t want to be the subject of some nut-jobs comic book fantasies.”   

Mer searched around and found a link to the comic shop that AJ owned, the Bazaar of Wonders, at the bottom of the Red Herring site.  “Nothing like a bit of free advertising, right?” 

They found the address for the shop and wrote it down, North Ave. and Warwick Blvd. barely a five minute drive from the library.  Rich took the keyboard, brought up Google and typed in the acronym VAGHRS.  A few seconds later they were all looking at the homepage for the Virginia Ghosts and Haunting Research Society. 

“Man, you’ve got to be kidding me.”  Mer looked at Po.  “There’s more people like AJ?”  

“Check to see if there’s any information on that guy Steve, AJ mentioned.”  Jessica pulled out the letter, double checking for a last name.  

Rich shook his head after a few minutes searching, “There’s no members list or anything, there’s just a mention of a guy named Steve in one of the haunting reports.  That’s all we got.”        

Po shrugged, stood and pushed her chair in.  “Looks like that’s all we're gonna get too.  Let’s hit that elementary school and see it for ourselves.  Then go to AJ’s shop and see if we can get any clue of where he’s at.”  

They all slipped out of the library as fast as they could, ignoring the evil eye from the librarian at the front desk.  Mer relaxed as soon as she was out, releasing the knots of tension she unconsciously held in her shoulders and neck.  It was a short brisk walk across Warwick Blvd. and down Main St. to the school.  They passed through the 1920’s era military housing that made up historic Hilton Village: quaint little yards, steep roofs, and arched front doors.  They joined the small crowd gathered on the sidewalks and around the Hilton Presbyterian Church.       

The sight that attracted the crowd was surreal.  The small school was in shambles.  Nearly all its windows were broken glass glittered like diamonds in the yard.  Papers, pages from books, and pieces of magazines fluttered from the windows, as if a ticker tape parade just blew through town.  Window frames rattled as whole desks hurtled through the air to break themselves upon the steel frames.  A small rivulet of brown water leaked from beneath the front doors winding its way to the gutter and eventually down to the James.  The lights flashed and flickered constantly trying to give the wide-eyed onlookers seizures.  

On the church lawn, standing in an arc facing the school, a small crowd of people held hands and gave prayers up to God begging for peace to descend upon the school.  Policemen stood in a harried line on the sidewalk in front of the school.  They shared worried glances shifting between the crowd and the menace of the school.  Traffic on River Rd. crawled past the school, as rubber-neckers took their fill.  News vans lined the other side of the road, antennas and bad hair sprouting like weeds.  

“Wow…for once guys I think the Daily Press might be right on the money.”  Po forced her way through the crowd, only stopping when she stood on the curb.    

They silently observed the havoc.  The disturbances continued unabated, random and unexplained.  The four of them stood there with a feeling of foreboding, wondering if this was really Dantalion's doing.  Rich stirred, shoved his hands in his pockets and turned. “There’s nothing we can do.  We’re not going to be able to take a closer look with all those cops hanging around.  Let’s just get to that shop and find AJ fast.”


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## johndaw16 (Mar 29, 2005)

*Ghosts of the Past: Episode I...Serious Breaking and Entering*

*Sunday, Oct. 1st*

The Bazaar of Wonders comic shop sat on the corner of Warwick and North Ave., in a building that looked half private residence, half warehouse.  The shop occupied only the first floor of the dilapidated brick building.  A worn wooden sign hung from its faux wrought iron mountings the only indication a shop was there.  A large window display advertised a Magic tournament and held a painstakingly designed Warhammer 40K battle.  A doorbell buzzed the group in; an awkward acne-stricken teenager looked up, surprised by the visitors.  

“Uh…Hi, can I help you guys with something.”  The kid looked sheepish as if he wasn’t even sure he was supposed to be behind the sales counter.  

Everyone looked expectantly at Mer; boys were after all her area of expertise.  Mer rolled her eyes, but stepped forward.  “Oh…yes.  Hi, what’s your name?”  

“I’m…I’m…my names Robby.” 

Mer glanced over her shoulder, starring daggers at her friends.  She turned back to Robby, sauntered up to the counter.  “Hi, Robby.  Some of my friends were telling me about this game...Magic.  Do you know anything about that?”

"Uhh...umm..."  Robby struggled to put a sentence together.  

Po and Rich laughed as Mer played Robby like a pro.  Rich leaned over to whisper to Po and Jessica.  "While the kid's distracted I'm gonna give this place a look.  Let's see if we can find anything." 

Rich started to wander the little shop, moving out of Robby's sight.  
_You know Rich, you're not so hot with girls either.  I've seen Po and Jessica tie your tongue in knots too.  _  
_Shutup, Mary. I'm trying to work here.  _  
_Then may I suggest you pay a little more attention Rich, there's magic here.  _ 

Rich paused, gawking around.  _Really!?!?_  Rich took a deep breathe, preparing himself for it, collecting his thoughts and concentrating.  He then closed his eyes, imagining the little shop in exquisite detail.  When he opened them again everything looked different.  

Rich slowly turned, looking about.  He can see the blood red miasma of rage and death clinging to Po and Mer, barely kept in check, lurking within.  He sees the coruscating hues that drape Jessica like a mantle, and the blazing white that shines from her eyes.  More importantly though, Rich can see other auras unfamiliar ones, there is a light blue glow on the half dozen security cameras, and on the glass of the front door the word BEWARE glows in red.  

All the magic stunned Rich, AJ must know more than they thought.  There was just no way he could be as clueless as he seemed and have enchanted, granted _marginally_ enchanted, security cameras.  "Hey, guys.  I took a look around and there's more to this place than we thought,  all the security cameras are enchanted.  It's minor and I'm not sure what the enchantment does but its there."  

"What?! Are you serious?"  Jessica looked just as surprised as Rich felt.  

Po gave a shrug.  "That just means we really need to take a closer look here.  That's up to you two.  Now watch Mer and I give this kid blue balls for a week."  Po left with a wink and a grin.  She sauntered up behind Mer possessively wrapping her arms around Mer's waist.  Po wet her lips and nibbled Mer's earlobe, distracting Robby _and_ Mer.  "Baby is this nice boy giving you what you need?"  

Robby's voice trailed off, as all decent thoughts left his head.  Rich and Jessica took the opportunity to slip off and check out the storage closet and a set off stairs in the back.  The stairs led up to what looked like a small above shop apartment.  Rich climbed up pausing at the door, Jessica followed close behind.  "Should I try it?"

Jessica rationalized for the both of them.  "Its not like we haven't done worse before.  And besides it's for AJ's own good."   

Rich gripped the doorknob and gave it a twist.  It just giggled, solidly locked in place.  "It's locked, give me your key*."  

Jessica stepped up and dug in her purse for a moment.  She produced an antique silver skeleton key, well worn and with a deep patina of age.  She slipped it into the lock, and with a click opened it.  Rich gave the door a shove swinging it open.  Before he could take a step alarms blared and lights flashed alerting every one of their trespass.  "S***!" 

Robby jumped at the awful noise of the air horn.  He ran to the far side of the counter tripping over a box of comics.  "Hey!! Hey, you can't be up there.  That's private.  My boss is gonna kill you guys, or well more like sue the pants off you."  

Mer and Po jumped, both just as startled as Robby.  Mer recovered first, caught up with Robby and snagged his arm in a tight grip.  "Hey, Robby.  Don't worry about them, just keep helping me."  She looked him in the eye and could feel his resistance draining away.  Robby was like a cornered mouse falling prey to a cobra.  He just stood there face slack, jaw agape.

Mer had always been good with people, _charming_.  But since her turning she'd become even _better_ with people.  She didn't understand it but people would just fall for her, overpowered by her will.  Po couldn't explain it either; she just said it came naturally to Mer, a manifestation of her powers.    

Rich peeked back down the stairs to make sure everything was ok.  _Theres no telling what those two will do._ 
Rich pitied Robby, he really had no idea what hit him, he just stood mute, staring at Mer's chest.  Rich shook his head and got down to some serious breaking and entering.  He paused at the top of the stairs, searching with his hands until he found the air horns mounting.  With a sharp tug and the splinter of wood he ripped the offending horn from the wall.  The horn died with a squawk like a plucked goose.  

AJ's apartment was a simple single bedroom, single bath affair.  It had a large combination dining/living room and a small kitchen.  The whole place was layered in strata of refuse and garbage.  The kitchen featured Domino's boxes, Doritos bags, and Zebra Cake wrappers.  The living room was littered with everything from dirty socks and dishes, to Diet Coke cans.  Piles of comics, cards, and role-playing books were stacked in precarious piles.  Newspapers, magazines and clippings carpeted the floor like leaves in an autumn forest.  

Jessica looked around in disgust.  "How are we going to find anything in all of this?" 

Rich began to gingerly pick his way through the living room, making his way towards the two computers on the far wall.  "Let's see if we can find anything useful on these.  Then we can tackle the rest."

Jessica nodded and stepped up to the second computer.  A Windows screensaver password screen greeted her as soon as she moved the mouse.  She sat in thought for a moment looking around her trying to judge what AJ would use for a password.  "Rich this is hopeless; we can't just guess a password like this."  She realized how impossible this would be as she looked around.  AJ's tastes were bizarre at best and as paranoid as he was he likely had an obscure password.     

Rich scanned the room, cursing AJ's paranoia.  He tried to put all the skill he acquired in the force to use.  He needed solid investigation skills to find anything in this mess.  Rich's diligence was well rewarded.  He found peeking out from under a pile of X-Men comics an e-reservation for an Econo Lodge in Williamsburg.  The confirmation date read 9-27-05.  

Jessica searched through the papers on the desks looking for anything of note.  As she scanned the countless slips of stickies and scrap paper notes she found the name and number of a contact in Williamsburg, a Sherry Turner of the Berkley Plantation.  

Jessica and Rich turned to one another and simultaneously said, "Found something!!"  With a laugh they exchanged pieces of paper.  

"We can call that hotel and see what room he was staying in.  And maybe this Mrs. Turner will be able to tell us what AJ was doing up there."  Rich tucked both pieces of paper into his pants pocket and resumed rifling the apartment.  A final look around turned up a small worn notebook covered in notes for Red Herring articles, the name Steven Giapolis and an address were written on the open page.  "Bingo, you find anything else?" 

"Nah, just more garbage and geek gear." 

"Ok then lets rescue that kid from the ladies downstairs before they drive him nuts." 

By the time Rich and Jessica came downstairs again, Robby spoke in single syllable words only.  Po and Mer were leaning on the sales counter arms around each other asking him question after question about the game of Magic.  Rich waved the notebook and the two pieces of paper in the air.  "Ladies lets go, leave the poor kid be.  I think he's seen more than enough for one day from you two." 

Mer gave Rich her best Who-Me? look and batted her eyes at him.  "You know you get what you ask for Rich.  Remember that."  

The group left as quick as they'd come.  Leaving Robby dazed and confused, and strangely aroused.

Rich passed the clues they'd found upstairs around and described everything upstairs.  "Looks like that'll be enough for a start.  The hotel narrows our search down, and hopefully Mrs. Turner will be able to tell us a little about what AJ was working on."  

Everyone climbed into the car, as Po started it up to head back to the house.  Jessica pulled out her cell phone, double checking the number for Mrs. Turner at the Berkley Plantation.  With luck there'd be some trace of AJ left in Williamsburg.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
* - Ok so I forgot to explain that one until now, duh.  The key is a unique reward Jessica earned for herself on a surreal trip to the realm of the fey.  It's a simple magical key, able to unlock any mundane lock.  It's powers come with a price, Jessica just doesn't know what that is yet.  Its been incredibly useful so far for the group, even though they try to use it sparingly.


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## johndaw16 (Apr 28, 2005)

*Ghosts of the Past: Episode II...Toe-Tapping Tourist Town*

*Sunday, Oct. 1st...5:30 PM * 

The EconoLodge sat on Richmond Rd., one hotel in the long line of tourist pleasing establishments in Williamsburg’s commercial center.  The group broke into pairs, Rich and Jessica followed by Po and Mer.  Their arrivals spaced by a few minutes wait.  They met in the hotel hallway just beyond the ice machines, everyone’s nerves a bit on edge, dreading what they might find in the room. 

“You know we should get concealed carry permits one day.”  Jessica commented, as she caught Po adjusting the sawed-off shotgun beneath her baggy hooded sweatshirt.  She turned to Po, “Do you know any good ways to break into a hotel room?” 

Po smirked.  “Yeah, there’s my foot.”    

The reservation confirmation listed AJ’s room as 216; they called ahead on the off chance someone was there.   No one answered.  If AJ was there nobody was betting he’d be in any shape to talk.  The elevator ride was tense and quiet.  They hit the second floor filing out of the elevator ready for business.  Everyone crowded around the door to 216, checking left and right for witnesses.  

The door frame rattled from Po’s kick, the sound of it echoed down the hall.  Subtly just was not her strong suit.  Rich and Mer flanked Po, guns up.  Jessica held back nervously looking either way, hoping no one was around.  Luckily most of the guests were at dinner or out still with tour groups.  Po stepped into the room, slowly pulling her Desert Eagle from the back of her jeans.  

Po sighed and put her gun away, “There’s no one here.  It’s just AJ’s junk.” Everyone started to squeeze into the room.   

Jessica pulled the door shut after everyone, hiding them from any passerby.  The room, like AJ’s home, was a mess.  Pizza boxes and takeout cartons spilled from the woefully inadequate trash can.  Crushed Doritos dusted the bed, clothes and luggage sat piled in a corner.  A half finished two liter of Coke sat next to the phone book on the bedside table.  

Rich picked his way through the room, using everything he’d learned in his short stint as a detective for the NNPD.  Everyone followed Rich’s lead and minutes later the entire room had been combed for clues.  

“I wonder why it’s so cold in here?”  Jessica went to the AC by the window, rubbing her arms.  Goose bumps running down her arms.  

“I dunno, but there’s nothing here that gives us a clue where AJ’s at.”  Mer stood in the middle of the room, her frustration apparent.  “Let’s get outta here.  This is just a dead end” 

“Wait!  Come look at this guys.”  Jessica was bent over the AC unit, looking at the floor just in front of it.  

The smell of burnt fabric was what caught her attention.  Jessica’s fingers traced the outline of a footprint in the carpet.  Probably a size ten, only the imprint of the toes and ball of the foot showed.  The foot had burned the carpet, the synthetic fabric melted and fused together.  Her gazed traveled up the AC unit, _there_ on the small temperature knob.  A finger shaped imprint melted into the black plastic of the knob.  

“*He * was here.” Jessica looked back to everyone else.  

Her assumption needed no other confirmation.  Dantalion had been in the room.  In the group’s estimation AJ’s chances of survival were odds that no bookie would take.


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## johndaw16 (Oct 12, 2005)

*Ghosts of the Past: Episode II Toe-Tapping Tourist Town 2*

*Sunday, Oct. 1st...5:56 PM* 

The group easily slipped unnoticed out of the Econolodge.  They said little as they left by a side exit, everyone eager to just get away.  A hint of discouragement lingered in everyone's thoughts; nobody liked AJ but leaving him in the hands of a demon was just..._wrong_.  The trip to the hotel was their only solid lead, and it'd turned out a dud.  Back to square one with no direction.  

As they approached their car to leave, Po felt someone watching them, the slightest of premonitions.  She scanned the hotel lot. 

"Guys, we've got an audience.  A kid, behind those Astro-vans."  Po whispered as she slid into the driver seat of their Mercedes sedan.  "He looks pretty harmless.  Let's see what he has to say for himself."  

As the last door shut, Po got the Mercedes moving.  She reversed out in rush, barely missing the fender of a Bronco.  Po cleared the parking spot and straightened out, she paused shifting into drive just long enough to cut the reverse lights and to check for the kid in the rearview mirror.  He was careless, peering around the van to watch them leave.  Po smiled, she had him.  She dropped back into reverse and goosed it, the Mercedes leapt back in a whiplash inducing 90 degree turn.

Po smiled warmly this time as she stepped from the idling sedan.  This kid had some nerve, he hadn't bolted, even though it was obvious he'd been caught off his guard.  

Rich spoke up first.  "Hey kid, what were you doing watching us?"  

"You're them aren't you?  You're the friends AJ was talking about."  The kid nervously looked over his shoulder as he spoke.  "Can we...can we talk somewhere else?"  

"You know AJ? Figures."  Rich jerked his head towards the Mercedes.  "Get in, well talk over dinner."

As they piled back into the car, Mer began to complain again.  "This is just great, now AJ's convincing other geeks of our celebrity status."  The boy shifted in his seat, uncomfortably aware of Mer's angry glare.  

The Chili's was just beginning to fill up with late season tourists, eager for a quick bite to eat.  The group settled into a corner booth, insisting that they squeeze into the small table.  They were nearest to the bathrooms and kitchen, and as far from anyone else as possible.  After fending off their bubbly waitress with orders of coffee all around, they got down to business.  

The kid's name was Eric.  He was sort of pale, average height, slightly overwieght, unruly hair.  His outfit was...absurd, a black fedora, black trenchcoat, black tapered Wranglers, and a black Darth Maul t-shirt.  Eric looked like he'd fit right in at AJ's comic shop.  Regardless though, he wasn't dumb and he'd recognized everyone off the descriptions AJ had given him.  Once the coffee came and introductions went 'round, he began his story.

"I'm a friend of AJ's.  I'm a suscriber to the Red Herring and have helped him out on some of his pieces in the past.  He gave me a call a few weeks ago, he said he needed help with some major work for the Herring."

"What was he working on up here?  It's got something to do with ghosts doesn't it?"  Rich leaned forward, jotting quick notes on a scrap of paper Jessica had dug from her purse.  

"Yeah it's got a _lot_ to do with ghosts.  He'd been working jointly with some pals of his in the VaGHRS on a flurry of hauntings cases in the area.  They were mostly at colonial sites, you know old ghosts of tragic southern belles or something."  

"So then why were you asked to help?  What did you do?"  Mer asked, barely veiling her suspicion.       

"I'm getting to that.  So...like I said these ghost cases had been at all these colonial sites, up until a week or so ago.  Then some new ones popped up on campus, at William & Mary."  Eric looked Mer in the eye.  "That's where I come in, AJ needed some help getting access to the school.  I got him into academic buildings and dorms.  Helped him research the cases, question witnesses, stuff like that."

Po sipped on her coffee amused by Eric's apparent spunk.  "Then what happened?  Where's AJ now?"  

Eric shook his head in despair, his youth finally beginning to show.  "I...I don't know.  I haven't talked to him since this past Friday night.  I got a call from him that night, it scared the hell outta me."  

"Wait, we got a letter from him on Sunday morning.  He came to our house in Newport News the night before and left it."  Rich dug the ragged piece of paper out.  "He wanted our help.  Something must have happened this morning or late last night."

"He was freaking out on the phone, he had abandoned his Jeep on the parkway on his way back from some onsite work at Yorktown.  He said someone was following him, but he thought he'd lost them in the woods around Jamestown beach."     

Po interupted Eric again.  "Who'd be following him?  Who'd he piss off?"

Eric spun the rest of his story, telling the little that he knew, and adding his own two cents.  AJ's curiousity had been especially piqued by the William & Mary ghost cases.  And for the past week his focus had been almost entirely dedicated to the campus.  On the phone Friday night AJ had admitted that he'd broken into a girl's dormroom looking for clues.  AJ suspected the girl of being involved in some sort of conspiracy or cult, that was actively trying to rouse the ire of local ghosts.  

AJ had said he had proof that something was "causing" the hauntings, something magical.  But he needed more time to put together who was responsible.  He thought whoever was following him on the parkway must have been trying to stop him from getting any closer to the truth.  

After that AJ had hung up, telling Eric to keep an eye on the hotel and call him back if he saw anyone lurking around the Econolodge.  That was the last Eric heard from AJ, and until the four of them had shown up he'd seen nothing at the Econolodge.  

"Great cults again."  Po paid their small tab.  "Looks like we got our next step.  We gotta head on campus. Right?"  

"It's no cult Po, I'm willing to bet its all Dantalion.  If he really is responsible for whats going on in Hilton then he could be causing all of this too."  Rich leaned across the table and pulled Eric forward by his trenchcoats lapels.  "Listen to me...VERY CAREFULLY! You got to stay out of this, you'll only end up getting hurt or worse.  Thanks for your help and everything.  But just forget about all of this, and only give us a call if you need help."

After Chilis they drove Eric back to his dorm at Dillard.  He gave them his campus ID, the dorm number that AJ had broken into, and a list of the ghosts on campus.  Eric spent the rest of night slumped in his favorite bean bag chair, clutching his cellphone, chewing Bazooka, afraid to get a minutes sleep


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## johndaw16 (Oct 12, 2005)

Well there you guys have it a little bit of thread necromancy.  I've long neglected this piece.  All summer its sat around and I'm only just getting back to it.  I thought the campaign had come to a close after graduation and the play group breaking up.  But good fortune has given us all a chance to get back together this coming Friday and start playing again.  Hooray for small miracles.  And on that note I pulled out some of my old notes on the game and decided to start catching up this SH.  Another post should be up by the end of tomorrow and hopefully another before the weeks out.  The SH is about 2 sessions behind where we'll be picking up the game this Friday so if I can buckle down I have a chance to get everything current.  These recent posts are going to be a bit foggy and quick since its been months since we played, so please bear with me as I struggle through them.  Thanks for reading. 

Later, 

John


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## johndaw16 (Oct 14, 2005)

*Ghosts of the Past: Episode III Campus Run-Around*

*Sunday, Oct. 1st...6:15 PM * 

They black Mercedes idled on Landrum Dr., Barrett dormitory looming over them in the grey evening.  A few students wandered the brick paths, the strumming of a solitary guitar drifted over the whisper of the exhaust.  Rich turned in the front passenger seat to face everyone, "I say we make a circuit around the dorm, check everything out you know.  Maybe I'll be able to sense something useful*."

The group started their slow circle around Barrett, ambling along the jumbled brick sidewalk along Landrum Dr.  They didn't standout like a sore thumb necessarily; Mer and Jessica were both college age, Po's age was inscrutable, and Rich could pass as a townie**.  But their _faces_ gave them away, no friendly banter passing back and forth, just silent determined concentration like a mask.

They made it all the way around the dorm, their footsteps leading back to the front porch.  Rich pulled out Eric's student ID, "Guess that's it, we gotta go to 124." 

The double doors unlocked with click as Eric's ID slid through the reader.  Room 124 was on the first floor, right wing of Barrett.  The door had a bulletin board covered in pictures of Johnny Depp, Beckham, Delta Gamma sorority heraldy, a scattering of notes, and two name tags.  Kaitlin Green, and Ruth...somebody, her last name obsured by a barechested Beckham cutout.  

"So Eric said this dorm was all girls right?"  Po looked at Mer, giving her a knowing wink. 

"Please you two, honestly can you think of something else right now."  Rich reached over Mer's shoulder and gave the door a solid knock.  "Let's see if anyone's home."  

They nervoursly fidgeted in the hallway for a minute, knocking once more just to make sure no one was answering.  Jessica slipped her key out once more, and they all slipped into the room as fast as they could not wanting to test fate any longer.  The room was fairly spacious, decorated in what could be labeled as mainstream American consumerism, with just a touch of fake sorority glamour thrown in.  

Everyone spread out, sifting through the room's contents.  Jessica bent over Kaitlin's laptop, reading the screen.  "She's in the shower.  She's got an away message up.  We should get out of here fast.  She's got a meeting with a Professor at 9 tonight, so we got a chance to come back."  

Mer looked up from the floor where she'd been searching beneath the beds.  "Who would lock their door while they were in the shower?" 

"Someone who's got something to hide?"  Po shrugged and looked to Rich.  "What is it Rich? You look uncomfortable." 

Rich held up a hand for silence, his eyebrows knit together like some great black catepillar.  "There's something here...in the closet."  Rich eased the door open  studying the jumble of clothes, shoes, and junk.  

Concentrate Rich, its in there but faint. I _know_ Mary just let me concentrate for once!  Rich stared into the dim of the closet letting everything blur, his eyes unfocused and then...it appeared.  A slight strobing light, the color of anti-freeze.  

"I've found it."  Rich gingerly dug through Kaitlin's belongings careful to leave everything just as he'd found it.  He emerged from the closet a smile lifting the corners of his mouth.  "It's just a Swiss Army knife."

Rich studied the small knife for a few moments, turning it over in his hands and examining the single fragile blade.  "This knife, it's not actually magical...I think its just been near a strong source of magic.  Conjuration to be exact."

Rich's declaration was met with blank stares.  Go on Rich you got to tell them what that means... you do know what it means ?  Of course I do Mary!    "Guys, conjuration is used to call something up from somewhere else, its how Dantalion came to this world I imagine."  

"Well if AJ thought this girl was in some cult, maybe the cults been conjuring ghosts.  Maybe unknowingly," suggested Jessica. 

"Yeah like in between soccer practice and sorority meetings right?"  Mer headed to the door, listening a moment before opening it.  "We need to get outta here, we'd be screwed if Kaitlin came back to us snooping in her room."

They decided to give Eric a call to see if he knew some way to obtain Kaitlin's room phone number and where they could get a map of the campus.  Eric sent them towards the Williamsburg library saying they could find everything they needed on the William & Mary webpage.  The group had just under three hours before Kaitlin's meeting, and they were going to see as many of these "hauntings" on campus before they went back.

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*Rich is the sole spellcaster in the group and as such he possesses the ability to sense magic intuitively.  Again a very handy skill to have.  The magic system is a slightly dumbed down version of the Medallions SH magic system used by OldDrewId, its an awesome set of rules and is real simple.  Many thanks to ODI for putting it up, my game definately wouldn't have had the same flavor without it.  Take a peak I bet you'll like it.  

I'm behind schedule already, seeing as this update is a day late.  Oh well. Attached are some pictures of the exterior of Barrett and the room number for  124 in Barrett.  I have more pictures to accompany future updates as well.  Hope you guys are enjoying.  

Later, 

John


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## rich_fiorella (Oct 23, 2005)

John, you arse-wipe [yeah I had something else here and they covered it up with smiley faces], Rich's eyebrows do not look like a big fuzzy caterpillar.  They're just...healthy and Italian.  Yeah, that's it.


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