Post by Dunwik on Jan 18, 2023 20:24:24 GMT
December 25th, 1913.
Platt's motorcade slowly trundled over the bridge in downtown Miskatonic, surrounded by light security and curious crowds to gawk at the generous, obese Grand Chairman. Some were fascinated by his tremendous bulk, others sought favors from him, and only a small few had malicious intent. These men, six in number, distributed briefcases among each other, looking like some banal drug deal, beneath the notice of anyone or anything, but as Platt's vehicle trundled towards them, they opened their cases, drawing submachine guns.
Platt's driver, recognizing the danger immediately, slammed his foot on the accelerator of the vehicle, and time seemed to move in slow motion. The engine screeched and squealed, spitting out sparks before failing with a sudden burst of black smoke, and the gunmen raised their weapons. As they brought their weapons to bear on Platt, the corpulent man in the white suit seemed to shift, liquify, and then expand rapidly.
The crowds, the driver, the car, and the gunmen were soon swallowed in a wave of flesh that rapidly spread through Miskatonic.
House was standing in Arthur's office, watching the Minister of Science stare out the window. House walked up to him, curious.
"Any moment," Arthur muttered under his breath, before the ground suddenly trembled. House stumbled, but Arthur remained standing, his short frame giving him the stability to weather the odd quake. While House started looking around for the source of the danger, Arthur immediately turned his head, a deep and foreboding sense of dread creeping up his spine.
"What was that?" House asked, "earthquakes?"
"No," Arthur said, "we failed."
"What? What do you mean?"
Arthur wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes, sighing deeply.
"Mr. House, I'm sorry. I lied to you."
"What are you saying?" House asked, "did you set me up?" His voice was calm, despite the danger. Of course, he'd foreseen this possibility, and prepared to shoot Arthur dead.
"No. I lied about my motives. Platt wasn't defective in spawning. He was merely storing vitae."
"Storing..?" House's eyes widened, "that would mean-"
"He was a fleshwalker, yes. I didn't understand the danger until this moment, and I was waiting... ah! He must've started to Ascend now. He'll be spreading through the city, consuming it. His vitae store should double every hour until he has eaten all of Dunwik. From there, I can't calculate how fast he'll accumulate more."
House turned to the door. Arthur grabbed him by the wrist.
"Platt's expansion will accelerate. If you flee, you'll only die tired. If my calculations were correct, you'll die before you can get to the docks. He wasn't far from here."
House's eyes narrowed and a cold sweat started to run down his neck, his heart pounding in his chest. Arthur was a madman, but Arthur was no fool.
"What... what do we do?"
Arthur closed his eyes, "we have a couple of minutes before he reaches us," he said, suddenly biting his thumb, tearing a bleeding wound into it, "I've no other choice. In my coat pocket, there is a small booklet. Open it and read the words."
House grabbed at Arthur's jacket, pulling the small booklet aside. He opened it and saw nothing but gibberish. Arthur, meanwhile, started drawing an intricate pattern on his forehead. House took a deep breath in and started to speak.
"Rex phaulos...? Rex tenebrous? Antichristos... rex... mundus?"
"Faster!" Arthur demanded, "we don't have time!"
House spoke quickly, unsure of what bizarre combination of Latin, Lengan, and indecipherable tongues he was even speaking. His voice grew to a fever pitch as he reached the last line, feeling a bizarre power course through him, as Arthur's skin slowly flaked away, revealing some unspeakable, indescribable thing beneath. House's tongue started to writhe in his own mouth against his will, burning and flaking away as he continued to desperately shout the bastard incantation of a dozen tongues.
"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Satan Dun'wyk wgah'nagl fhtagn! Sator arepo tenet opera rotas! Antichristos! Antichristos! Antichristos - Isaac Arthur!"
What was left of Dr. Isaac Arthur faded, and House drew back in sheer terror. Shimmering walls of a color incomprehensible and indescribable threw long and jagged shadows over the office, his abominable form causing House's eyes to water. He couldn't put words to the malign and unspeakable form, a searing radiance and ethereal darkness at once, a horrific abomination of the human figure but otherwise unrecognizable for anything of the world. As House's eyes started to melt out of his skull, he realized that he ended the world.
Platt's motorcade slowly trundled over the bridge in downtown Miskatonic, surrounded by light security and curious crowds to gawk at the generous, obese Grand Chairman. Some were fascinated by his tremendous bulk, others sought favors from him, and only a small few had malicious intent. These men, six in number, distributed briefcases among each other, looking like some banal drug deal, beneath the notice of anyone or anything, but as Platt's vehicle trundled towards them, they opened their cases, drawing submachine guns.
Platt's driver, recognizing the danger immediately, slammed his foot on the accelerator of the vehicle, and time seemed to move in slow motion. The engine screeched and squealed, spitting out sparks before failing with a sudden burst of black smoke, and the gunmen raised their weapons. As they brought their weapons to bear on Platt, the corpulent man in the white suit seemed to shift, liquify, and then expand rapidly.
The crowds, the driver, the car, and the gunmen were soon swallowed in a wave of flesh that rapidly spread through Miskatonic.
House was standing in Arthur's office, watching the Minister of Science stare out the window. House walked up to him, curious.
"Any moment," Arthur muttered under his breath, before the ground suddenly trembled. House stumbled, but Arthur remained standing, his short frame giving him the stability to weather the odd quake. While House started looking around for the source of the danger, Arthur immediately turned his head, a deep and foreboding sense of dread creeping up his spine.
"What was that?" House asked, "earthquakes?"
"No," Arthur said, "we failed."
"What? What do you mean?"
Arthur wrinkled his nose and closed his eyes, sighing deeply.
"Mr. House, I'm sorry. I lied to you."
"What are you saying?" House asked, "did you set me up?" His voice was calm, despite the danger. Of course, he'd foreseen this possibility, and prepared to shoot Arthur dead.
"No. I lied about my motives. Platt wasn't defective in spawning. He was merely storing vitae."
"Storing..?" House's eyes widened, "that would mean-"
"He was a fleshwalker, yes. I didn't understand the danger until this moment, and I was waiting... ah! He must've started to Ascend now. He'll be spreading through the city, consuming it. His vitae store should double every hour until he has eaten all of Dunwik. From there, I can't calculate how fast he'll accumulate more."
House turned to the door. Arthur grabbed him by the wrist.
"Platt's expansion will accelerate. If you flee, you'll only die tired. If my calculations were correct, you'll die before you can get to the docks. He wasn't far from here."
House's eyes narrowed and a cold sweat started to run down his neck, his heart pounding in his chest. Arthur was a madman, but Arthur was no fool.
"What... what do we do?"
Arthur closed his eyes, "we have a couple of minutes before he reaches us," he said, suddenly biting his thumb, tearing a bleeding wound into it, "I've no other choice. In my coat pocket, there is a small booklet. Open it and read the words."
House grabbed at Arthur's jacket, pulling the small booklet aside. He opened it and saw nothing but gibberish. Arthur, meanwhile, started drawing an intricate pattern on his forehead. House took a deep breath in and started to speak.
"Rex phaulos...? Rex tenebrous? Antichristos... rex... mundus?"
"Faster!" Arthur demanded, "we don't have time!"
House spoke quickly, unsure of what bizarre combination of Latin, Lengan, and indecipherable tongues he was even speaking. His voice grew to a fever pitch as he reached the last line, feeling a bizarre power course through him, as Arthur's skin slowly flaked away, revealing some unspeakable, indescribable thing beneath. House's tongue started to writhe in his own mouth against his will, burning and flaking away as he continued to desperately shout the bastard incantation of a dozen tongues.
"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Satan Dun'wyk wgah'nagl fhtagn! Sator arepo tenet opera rotas! Antichristos! Antichristos! Antichristos - Isaac Arthur!"
What was left of Dr. Isaac Arthur faded, and House drew back in sheer terror. Shimmering walls of a color incomprehensible and indescribable threw long and jagged shadows over the office, his abominable form causing House's eyes to water. He couldn't put words to the malign and unspeakable form, a searing radiance and ethereal darkness at once, a horrific abomination of the human figure but otherwise unrecognizable for anything of the world. As House's eyes started to melt out of his skull, he realized that he ended the world.