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#101 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Staring into the green acid, the Jest rubbed his head in a failing attempt to sooth his throbbing headache. With a few blinks of his sunken eyes of exhaustion, he received numerous flashing visions from the memory of the beast. Seeing the red eyes scolding deep into his mind, he took a deep exhale of shakiness, as he rubbed away the sight of carnage. Still tasting heated blood and exotic flesh, he periodically whipped his mouth in hope of the taste disappearing. Holding his flashlight in the darkness of the sewer, ironically casting an even darker shadow outside of the funnel of light, the detective lingered in the abyss of blackness, as the birdman appeared. Informing Bela on the toxin of fear, the thin lad stared upon the figure before politely smirking the best he could. Wondering how the toxin activated the acid blood of the Sleestak, the detective noted to study the blood for clues, as he placed the vial in his tool bag.

Pushing himself to his feet, he glanced over the surroundings, growing weary of the constant dripping that partook in the background. As the mist of the running water ways flowed, the pool of funky green acid and bones streamed across the engraved lining of the brick floor, and into the watercourse. While the Jest checked the time in his pocket watch, he stepped over crumbled stones and debris, to gain the high ground, “…good to see ye still up and kicking, fella…almost feared the worst of ye.....it appears our foe hold more command than previously believed...”. However, he stopped at the sight of a figure in a black suit of dull normality.

No Caption Provided

In black shades and a plain monochromatic suit, a man stood at the top of the hole, in the middle of the hallway. With an emotionless face and drab hair, the figure did not bear the same uncanny valley appearance that green-eyed men from earlier that night. Very much human, the man in black was a member of the group that arrived shortly after the average authorities. With identification that oversighted the police, they nonchalant men were now all over the scene, removing the supernatural evidence from being recorded by the public. Closing off the alley that contained what was left of the three ahool bodies, the suited man removed his glasses to catch an eyeful of the detective. “…how did I know you’d be in the mix of this”, the man stated as Bela walked up the rubble while fetching his own ID, which gave him authorization. “…what’s going on here?”, the man looked to the two, sure that the investigator had some knowledge of the mess that was happening. “My partner and I are on a case…and, I believe someone summoned a Mothman…”, the supernatural investigator thought to the red eyes of the mystic creature, knowing that the being could be the one responsible for the cryptids that lied dead on site. As the suited figure stood straight in thought, a few more men appeared in the hall, prepared to handle the pool of supernatural acid.

d^_^b

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#102 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

Ghost Bird hastily covered his exposed eye. The less who know he is mostly human, the better. However, these men looked to be professionals in the area of urban legends. "Sir, I will pull up what I can about Mothmen." the birdman's assistant informed through the ear piece in his mask.

Looking at the Bela, Ghost Bird asked, "Who are these men? How big is this?"

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#103 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Staring into the darkness, the suited figure knew the pale detective might have a real danger on his hand, if his suspect could summon a foresight bringing creature like the Mothman. Bela turned his ear to that of his partner, catching his comment, “…an enigma of the government, these fellas are just clean up men…keeping the paranormal out of the public eye…ye’know, the fellows who show up to UFO sightings and stuff like that…it was only a matter of time before they’d present themselves…”. Stepping out of the way of a few of the blacked men, they headed into the sewer to clean out the pool of acid and bones, the young Jest walked up the ramp with his mind still stuck on the red eyes of the cryptid of neutral standings. With platinum contamination suits, the men began their work as the detective moved up to the agent that knew of him. “So, this whole ordeal is another one of your supernatural investigations, huh?…”, the shaded agent asked with a look to the two men. “Affirmative…I have a faint understanding of how heavy this is…but, I believe there’s may be some large hands in this…”, Bela was very well thinking this case was far bigger than he thought it’d be.

But, knowing he must continue on, he bowed to the presence of the suited man before departing from the hall. “Although, I must bit ye Adieu, sir…”, he stated before returning to the topic at hand. With his mind still on the Mothman, the Jest walked into the alley of muddy smells and cluttered movements, gesturing for his partner to join along, “I believe we may find the location of our mystery man, if we find the creature”. He held his ID while moving to the carcass of the Ahool, with the knowledge that the DNA of the beast could help him track the cryptid that summoned them all, the Mothman. And maybe, as he hoped, the summoning creature could lead to its controller. Kneeling before it, he held his watch in hand, with a deep stare to the fidgeting second needle, Bela pulled a lock of hair from the funked beast that lied in blood and guts before quickly returning to his feet. “…this many very well be at the surface of something fairly large…maybe”, he took a deep breath, before seeing more men walking into the alley, “We should probably leave…”.

d^_^b

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#104 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

Ghost Bird watched the men work. To him, it all seemed like a bad conspiracy theory. He believed gods and ghosts were as weird as it would get. Still, the thought of not being alone in madness was comforting. Agreeing to leave as soon as possible, the birdman pondered the possibility of his brand. When they were alone, he would ask, "Bella, are these servents of Morphisto connected to his realm in any way?"

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#105 Edited by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Wrapping up the lock of hair in a napkin before placing it within his case, the detective removed himself from the alley, stepping around the many suits and police alike. Lowering his head to thought, ignoring the crowd that had emerged, Bela walked towards his vehicle. Hearing the birdman’s question about Morphisto’s realm, the younger Jest thought about the act of getting there, as his footsteps tapped along the cold cobblestone pavement of wet brick, marking their exit from the crowd. Walking through silence, he deeply wondered about going into the realm that he’d never actually been to.

“I figure it could be possible…if they have a portal in use…..”, he muttered in broken speech, having never tried it, he thought about what it may look like, down there. Trying to picture it, his mind was suddenly interrupted by an external force of might. Freezing his morbid brain from experiencing anything along the line of the demon king’s home, he heard the voice of his mother’s soft voice, asserting herself into the center of his head. Denying him the opportunity to continue thinking of entering the hellish world, Bela gritted his teeth and grabbed his head in pain. As the bringer of his live strongly spoke a sincere concern in trying to keep him away from the danger of Morphisto, the pale gentleman held his composure, while approaching his car. “…bloody rubbish”, he muttered as he witnessed the mangled trunk of the vehicle. Knowing his alter ego was the cause, Bela walked around to the front door. “…First, we must figure if we could locate this Mothman…”, he placed his bag in the backseat, before opening his door. “If we find it, we could find who summoned and controls it…then, investigate for a portal to-”, he stopped in a cold freezing chill of his mother’s mental link, tapping into his mind and furthering her detouring remarks. But, trying to ignore them, the Jest sat in the car, starting it for a return to his office.

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#106 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

The birdman took note of what the detective said, orally and through body language. The connection between their enemies and the realm of Morphisto seemed more and more like their weak link. However, something was bothering Bela and that worried Ghost Bird. Entering the damaged transport, the birdman voiced his idea.

"Bela, my brands connect a wicked soul to my master's realm. I believe I can disconnect the wicked from Morphisto's realm this way." This theory came from the mark that appeared on his first opponent of the night. Possibly brands to gods meant more then property.

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#107 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

No Caption Provided

As the car pulled off the side of the road, the detective listened to the plan that his partner had to defeat the demon king. Disconnecting him from his followers, Bela figured it could very well work, to close the realm off from this world. “Ye may have something, I suppose…..we could close the realm, if we find the one opening it…”, he spoke up in the silence of the car's cabin, as the sliding of the windshield wipers filled the dim quietness with repeating sound. Pressing down the slick street of wet cobblestone and brick, the vehicle quickly moved away from the scene of the crimes and back towards the office of the Jest.

Quickly moving through the damp city, the driver rubbed his thin fingers against his face and through his hair. “I believe it may be possible to use the realm itself to find the ones opening the portal, itself.”, the pale Jest turned the corner. “Whoever’s behind this is drawing a lot of power, if they possess the ability to summon those cryptids…”, thinking about the Mothman, Bela continued driving on. “…we could cut off their power from the source”, he thought about going into Morphisto’s realm, before a chill travelled up his spine with the same velocity as the car that moved through the streets of brick and stone. Turning a few more intersections in deep contemplation of the idea, he thought to having never seen the devil lord of darkness. With many speculations to what the beast ruler may be like, urged on by the childhood tales of terror from his older siblings, the horrid expectations were always nerve-clinching to him. A place so full of wickedness and fright that it birthed into itself, it seemed like a paradox of recycling evils. A place that was best locked away from the earth, the young Jest pulled into the backalley of his residential building, knowing they needed to find the portal quickly.

And, upon entering the dark alley of cold winds and shadows, the running engine couldn’t fog the sound of a piercing guitar, the same way it did the frosty air that steamed up around it. As Bela shut off the car and exited the driver’s door, he noticed the purring engine of soothing lavender, rippling from the Black Beauty, which sat deeper into the dark alleyway. As its headlights glowed with a low illumination of hellish red brightness, the Jest knew the two demons were inside. “Well, I suppose we should get to work…..but, how would ye suppose we find this wickedness?”, he stated in a tired sigh, checking his pocket watch and seeing the extremely late time of the wee-hours of the morning, before asking the following questing in contemplation.

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Inside Bela’s Office / 3:48 AM

The simplistic pops of a drum could be heard coming from down stairs. In the back hall of the complex, leading from the far off restroom, the two demons laughed and muttered through the smoke of grassy cigs and incense. As the wooden corridor echoed with the slow-but-rhythmically sound beat of a hand drum, inexperienced in the instrument, the young girl sat on the waiting bench and carried on the tempo that she was told to. In a steady watch of her movement, she concentrated on the fluid repetition that drew her mind away from the poor situation. And, as her hands popped and patted and the conga drum, her eyed followed the sight of the two scruffy hoodlums. Swaying along with the hypnotic hips of the blonde-dyed Latina, as she raddled through folk tunes and calmed the pressures of the past with her fruitful dance, the French girl played with her head held high with the floating feeling of the music to carry her. As if she had forgotten about the nightly hours prior to this, she held the trance of playfulness, after finally opening her scared self up to the two demons.

No Caption Provided

Leaning against a closed trash can, the muscular biker held his black Gibson Les Paul with nodding precision. Picking at the steel cords of the bluesy riffs that cried from the low-turned amp that he had under his tapping boot heel, Blaze sucked a drag from his smoke before holding his breath with the soulful whine of the higher calls of the ES-335 guitar’s neck. As his lady danced before him with the sway of her Latin heritage, she sung a tune that her fairly intoxicated brain couldn’t fully remember the lyrics too. And as the group laughed at the error in her words, she hushed her companion with a sly rub of her hand through his sweat lubricated head of messed hair, before placing her fingers along her trumpet. And with a jazzy blow of crooning humidity, she continued the melody of the song (which was all she really could remember).

Pouring a musical mix between many varying genres of the islands that they sprung from, their playing bared the flavour of Jazz, Salsa, Reggae, Blues, Gypsy, and Chicano. Creating a thick folk sound that fogged the building with vibes of their intense joy, they carried the young girl on a wave of blissful escape, as the two demon played with their heartfelt voices of untamed training. Even getting the girl to sing a few lines of whatever she could think of, the two continued on as Bela entered the building. Opening the front door to see them jamming in the hallway before the restroom, he began to speak upbefore the hissing horn hummed and whaled to the paces of the Spanish tune that was in Harley’s head.

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#108 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

The birdman knew how to track wickedness, whether he wanted to or not. "When those who are wicked kill, the spirit of their victims usually remain." He looked at his hands hello with a small sigh. "As long as there is one restless spirit that knows the way, I can track evil."

Ghost Bird followed the music mostly, but made sure to stay behind Bela. Upon entering he saw Blaze playing the guitar to a song the birdman's old self would have been drawn to. "A man of many talents, I see." he complimented.

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#109 Edited by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

“Hey! Look who’s back, che…”, the greaser licked his lips upon the sound that he heard under the weeping song of his guitar, which'd been moaning for more than half an hour. While his lady’s horn blared like a seductive elephant, crooning through the halls to rippling wood, the macho baritone of Blaze caught her attention, as she turned to bask her slitherous eyes on the two returning detectives. “HEY!!! ¡Están de vuelta!”, she exclaimed before hurrying over. Nearly flying into a hug, she gripped at the pale detective, easily wrapping her arms around the thin figure. Holding tight enough for his suit to be dabbed with the sweat dripping from her toned figure, she hung from him with glee, “It’s good to see ya two’ alright…ey love?”. Looking to her companion, sitting in a drenched tank top and a coat of his own sweat, he chuckled and continued playing his guitar, before improvising an old 12-bar blues riff. “Hehe, mi almost fi think ya ti down-rot inna jail cell, he and Harley laughed at the thought of the two detectives being held in a holding cell with the likes of degenerates and scumbags.

Taking a drag of his white cig, the demon’s fingers picked and moved as he stared at the Jest. As the French girl left to the restroom, and the Latina took her placer on the drum, pounding away with thrilling pace, while keeping to his tempo, the rebel spoke again. “So, what bring ya bak here, boss?”, Blaze figured the two men would be in some haunted swamp, or something like that, “Ya, I’d think Tou two Vengadores de los perdidos’d be somewhere huntin’ down El chupacabra…hahaha!”. Looking to the guitarist, Harley cackled like a hyena in the cool breeze of night, as Blaze laughed at the liked-mind of her comment. “…Big Foot, Hehe…”, he retorted in thoughts, playfully filling a few thickened riffs with her drumming, as Bela held the contained lock of hair. Protected by a sack of paper, the two demons smelled the mystic fur and looked with dimmed smiles. “Ew, En el culo del infierno…that’s awful…..mi mierda”, she turned her face away, as the scent turned her ghostly stomach.

“…we had an encounter with a Mothman…”, Bela announced to the two, while fanning Blaze’s wolf away from the contained lock of hair. “Seems, our ‘friend’ can call upon some bloody bollocks worth of power…we plan on following the moth to the location of its summoner…”, he explained, as the two rebels eyed them. “How did ye two survive?”, Blazed asked before Harley gazed into the still unnerved eyes of the Jest, “Tou did it, did ya? Tou turned into that thing!!!”. Jumping to her feet on the bench, her honeyed lips donned a bright smile as both of the demons lit up with the thought of the monstrous creature being unleashed upon the world. “How was it…what was it like?”, she fanatically asked questions and giddiness, as if she missed the appearance of a major celebrity, before the detective got them back on track. Chuckling away from the subject of his shamefully notorious alter-form, the young Brit clumsily remembered his thought, “um, I—where’s Anna?”. Changing the conversation, he shifted his eyes to the upstairs hallway, leading to his office room. Wondered about his colleague-and-partner, the demons sustained their playing of their instruments at a low degree, “…nah, boss…lady che said she fi haf another case ti do…”. Attending to her own investigation, Blaze relayed the message to the Jest, “but, before she left, yuh mother came by…..’em fi started talkin’ ‘bout ye, dere was ah argument-”.

“…my mother?!”, the stunned Jest interrupted before looking around in shock of not sensing her presence around. Asking the two to explain more, wondering when she arrived and what for, Harley batted her eyes in thought, “…No lo sabemos, they were arguing when we got here.”. Continuing on about the discussion, “…usted ya sabe, tu madre…it wasn’t as bad as jefe made it sound. Madre began talkin’ ‘bout your marriage, it angered Anna…”. The warm Latina smiled under her heated caramel skin as her widened smile stretched across her face, “Sabes que, ya know tu madre.”. As the blues picked under their conversation, the greaser added onto the lady’s comment, “Ay, boss…che ain’t much of ah screamer an’ such. They fah spoke fah ah few minutes up thar. So, mi brought Lucy and Ley down here ti get outta fi dem ah hair…ya’know”. As Bela quickly moved up the staircase, “is she still here??”, the pale gentleman questioned his mother’s presence. “Tu conoces a tu madre, ya parents never use doors…”, Harley pointed attention to the fact of the Jests’ eccentric means of travel. “—at least not conventionally…”, Blaze muttered to her in a low tone of his throat, as she smiled back in thought, “…sabes que, makes ya wonder why their manor has doors…”.

As Blaze listened to the Jest rushing to the staircase with a huff from the yeilding stiffness in his bones, low enough for the demons to still hear it, the latina chuckled. "...I don't know what's wrong with a 'shotgun wedding'...", she questioned Mrs. Jest's opposition to the act that Bela married his would-be wife in, "...quiero decir, they're named after shotguns!". Looking to her partner, the macho rocker who rose his thick eyebrow, "Ye'know, she's not pregnant, right". Asking the question pertaining to Harley's choice of terming, it struck a realization of what the phase meant, "Ooh, so that's what it means...hm, still doesn't seem that bad...". Turning his natty head to the birdman, Blaze noticed the man's wrecked suit. "What de bloody !@$% happened ti you?", he spoke up in wonder before his lady filled in her guess, "...tou met Mr. Beastly, huh?!...wasn't it just amazing?". With a peppy showing of her pearly teeth, she looked to her love, "Jefe, tou remember when ya met Beastly, ey? He nearly broke tou, hehe...", Her comment gained a sharp twang of the guitar. "...that ting never 'almost broke mi'.....he fi bit mi spine, and I fah nearly made a barbeque dog treat out of 'em, seen?", he quickly retorted his side of the story, to much laughter from his babe, "...we must have been in different fight". She continued sneering before returning her colourful gaze at the birdman, "So, did tou see 'em...Mr. Beastly?".

-------------------------

Upstairs

No Caption Provided

The Jest left up the staircase and into his office, seeing no one in his fireplace-lit study room, he turned around to see his mother standing behind him. Leading against the stair railing, she stood in the shadow of the upstairs hallway. “Greetings, Bela dear...”, she smiled with a warming voice of nourishment, as her eyes of deep mysticism. Though of face and figure held the look of a woman of Bela’s youthful age, her exotic eyes bared the knowledge of an uncountable lifetimes worth of enlightenment. Dressed in a long flowing gown-like skirt that was tied around her motherly hips, in shades of blackish purples and greens, her earthy appearance was rich in her gypsy heritage. Basking in the music the seeped through waves of curly black hair, vibrantly swaying down to her shoulder. Cupping her motherly face of politeness, she spoke before her son could, “ye’know, those two sure are spiffy with their music, ey?”. With her strong southern English accent, Mrs. Jest complimented the two musicians, who’ve been jamming for the past half hour. “Mother, what are ye d-”, he was politely cut off by his dearest parent, walking past him. “…Yer dear ol’ father sends his ‘hellos’, and I prepared a batch of biscuits for ye, dearest…”, her well-fitted frame walked over to the window and closing out the chilling wind. As her son held his tongue, thanking her for the full plate of desserts, which filled the cozy fire-lit office with the rich scent of the freshly baked treats. “Mothe-”, Bela was interrupted again by the maturely peppy figure that birthed him. Turning to face her son, with her abnormally youthful face, “Ye’know, son…ye really should tighty up behind yeself. Heavens knows, I raised you better…”, she placed away some of his loose books, "Although, perhaps ye got this from your father, ye'know, dear, I still have to organize his study to this day.....it's despicable, really".

“Mother…mother!”, he followed behind her in attempt to stop her from messing up his workspace in her efforts to clean. “Mother, I’m working on a case, and it’s quite important that I see to it…so, may we please cut thi-”, he finally obtained her attention before being interrupted once again. “Ohw, that reminds meself of the purpose of me visit...I can’t allow you to visit Morphisto…”, she nonchalantly smirked into her viewing of the many trinkets that lied about in his home. “…allow me? Mother, it must be done…”, he asserted himself before his mystic overseer-of-a-parent. Returning her luring gaze to the young man, she stood firm in her announcement, “Bela, ye know you, as well as yer siblings, are forbidden from visiting that realm…you are perfectly aware of that…..your father and I are the only ones who may go there…it’s too dangerous and risky otherwise…”. Continuing to try to defuse her resilient stance, she stayed determine in her stance, refusing to allow her children to get too close to the venom of the demon lord that haunted their family.

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#110 Edited by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

Marriage problems were out of Joseph's league in terms of "heroics". He let Bela take care of that alone. This left the birdman to discuss his encounter with the detective's monstrous alter ego. "Honestly, I thought giant bird gods were as weird as it would get for me." he replied, confirming his fight with the werewolf. "What a mess. Too many wicked souls unclaimed today, that old crow is never going let me live it down." he sighed about his master's anger.

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#111 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Thinking about the giant bird god, the two demons laughed and licked their lips with the thought of the numerous weird things they’ve seen in their time working alongside the Jest. “…you should have been there when we met this giant winged squid-thing, with six eyes, and a tentacle beard, who lived at the end of the wo-”, the wide-eyed Latina remembered the many terrors she’ve seen after befriending the British family of mystics and magicians. But, as she spoke in detail length about the odder end of divinity, Harley was cut off by the sudden surreptitious means of getting her attention. Swiftly shifting his eyes and lightly nodding his head in a subtly of the slightest, knowing they weren’t allowed to speak on the many things they witnessed, Ed continued playing his guitar before looking to the sound the faintly poured from upstairs.

As their mortal friend returned from the restroom, reminding the Latina to refrain from the discussion of divinity, the demon sat her giddy figure back in the hall bench. Folding her legs into the padded cushions of Victorian patterns, Harley watched the girl sit with the same timidly dazed expression. Calm and bayed in her emotions, her peaceful smile gently eased across her face as the demon’s spoke. “…you’d think he’s more understanding, hehe…”, the slitherous woman thought about the birdman’s divine commander and his surprise of untaken evils, “…A menos que esté siempre enojado, o algo, mi mean, mierda, you’d think he’d be used to it, by now…”. The lady wondered if an omnipotent being would still have that much of an emotional connection.

Thinking of the numerous untouched evils that still roamed the world, and have did so since its beginning, Blaze laughed and took a drag from his grassy white cig, “Mi wonder wat him fah tink ah ti of prisons…”. Licking his lips and sticking the cig between the tuner of his guitar, the chuckling greaser picked his instrument before continuing, “…that otta ruffle him’ah feathers…”. Immediately getting a gigging cackle from his lady, she caught wind of the joke, “…HAHA, ow, I see what ya did…Eres ingenioso, jefe!”. Showing full teeth and squinted eyes, the two laughed even more as she imitated the gobble of a turkey and the caw of a hawk. Baiting the lad into laughing as well, he looked to birdman, “So, wat him ah do wit’ him fi anger…peck out ye fah liver?”. Wonder what punishment could be in store for the birdman, under the fury of his master, Blaze playfully jabs with further bird jokes, as Harley slid over in chuckling tears drew near the corners of her eyes.

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#112 Edited by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

The birdman could not help but laugh at the joke. Truth was, his god cared little for what people thought of him. Hell, he cared little for Joseph’s attitude, just as long as he got his damned souls. Looking up with a sigh, Ghost Bird answered, "No no, the pain from missing eyes would fade in time. My master believes the wicked should suffer." Looking at the two, the birdman explained, "I truly angered him only once, now I cannot shut out the pleas of ghosts. He figured it would be best to hear those I could fail."

Motioning to some dust on his suit, he continued, "Those I brand, like those at the bar, go to his realm upon death. An endless desert of ash and dust. They will wander endlessly, unable to sate their hunger, unable to sleep, and unable to truly die."

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#113 Edited by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

“Whoa!…”, the cackling demon plopped back her head in laughter, as her mouth released the steamy cloud of misty smoke from the cig. Flowing through the sound waves of her rolling voice, the Latina hummed off her words and leaned over to nudge the shoulder of the giggling girl, “... como el hombre de la canción ... en un horse with no name…”. As the air filled with the thick vapors of mind-numbing cleanser, the guitarist stood and looked through the accompany of instruments that lied in a line along the wall. Lifting a nice little nylon string acoustic lute to his chest, Blaze smiled at the hooting that Harley blew into her trumpet. With a lick of her lips, she playfully created the sound of short-winded smooching toots, bellowing out onto their French company. Puffing out clouds of tendril streams, easing the head of whoever inhaled the coloured mist that danced through the harmonic tune of sweet thickness, Harley smiled as the girl fell into laugher along with them.

“Guess wi all’ah be lucky, ey chere?”, he nodded to his lady, as he began strumming from the sweet strings of the aged instrument that was buried away in Bela’s closet. "Mundo travieso, jefe...", Harley smiled bad with a nod to the thought of the birdman's god being the distributer of pain, "...good ti know who we could thank, hehehe!". Thinking about the pain and agony that oozed from the heart of most, the thought of all who suffer being wicked made the two demons feel a bit better about their own condition. Less isolated in their plight of condemnation, Ed smirked through the wall of haze that coated his sweating head in the strong smell of flavour. As the three saw funky greens and purples pouring from the mix of music and mysticism, they continued snickering and cackling like hyenas. “los loco, mi sure it has to be a bummer, hearing the cries of the damned…”, Harley thought out loud before licking her lips and belting out words of Spanish. But, as she did so in her sweet voice of an untrained lowly background, the instrumental Blaze noticed the lamp growing dim around them. Furthered by the sight of his wolfish dog jumping to his feet and sprinting upstairs, the two demons slowly continued as the walls echoes with whistling hums. “Blue, whar ye go, boy?”, the greaser followed the rhythm of his lady’s singing, while looking to the staircase and seeing the Jest walked down to alert the birdman of the portal being opened.

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As Bela’s office flickered with a short circuit to the electricity of the building, the room lied in darkness as the canine ran through the threshold to see a yellow light swirling into a vertical circle. Over a fairly wide stone bowl of spiced water, the substance held the floating patch of fur before the kneeling mother Jest in a state of mirroring blackness. As Blue starred in snarling fashion, the madam held a rosary in her wrapped fingertips and bowed before the bowl. Spewing Latin in a silent whisper, Tabitha’s head of thick black hair lied before the sparking oval-shaped orb of light. Shining a glow across the somber room of quiet darkness, the warming portal opened to reveal a chilling wormhole into another zone. A pocket of time and space, Bela returned to see portal spinning like a vortex of force, sending loose paper tumbling around the room, as the walls rumbled and echoed with cricks and wrenches.

No Caption Provided

Holding his pocket watch, Bela stepped close to the portal, feeling a gush of wind and frost patting his face with each easing tap of his heel. Reaching his hand out, the young lad lifted the fire poker and slid it through, to test the safety of the vortex. With no sign of immediate danger, the Jest grabbed his bag and his guts and walked through, gripping his silver pocket watch. Staring at the ticking hands on the pad, he watched as they began spinning in a counterclockwise manner. As the pale detective felt his boot touch solid ground, Bela witnessed the windy flow of air that draped down from the open window of brick and stone. As the night sky peeked down upon them, the space was a fairly long chamber of stone corridors and cells separated by bars. Ripped, bent, and rusted, the bars trembled with the sound of leaking water, dripping from the ceiling above him. As a few wall-mounted touches barely lit the foggy hall, Bela pulled out his flashlight before turning around to see the opposite end of the portal, still displaying his office room. Met with the growls of the untrusting wolf, and the glare of the motherly figure who held the gate open, the young man walked forward in investigation of the region of mystery.

No Caption Provided

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#114 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

Following the greaser's dog, the birdman eventually entered Bela's office. There stood the portal and two women, the detective must have entered already. He looked at the spinning gateway and hesitated to enter. His armor was damaged, and his weapons were running low. He needed a plan this time. He turned to the ladies and asked, "May I ask for some advice, this situation is not something I deal with on a daily basis."

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#115 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

As the portal shined like a solar disk, riddling tendrils of light chasing itself into a circle of blinding levels of brightness. Glowing through similar views of the distant sun, it flickered from yellow and white, as the average eye tried to catch the zipping motion of the numerous rays racing in place. Generating a harmonious humming that whistled around the moon and echoed a droning pulse against the walls, its sound absorbed most of the opposing sound around it. Rattling the field of vision around it, the light that formed the image of the room swayed and bent to the heat of the portal. Numbing the sight of the images that created the room, shaping mirages of visual appearances, the funneling light affected all but the wormhole itself. As no answer could be heard in direct reply to his question, even the dog’s unearthly growl was absorbed into the droning hum of the vortex. Though, the center of the hole lied clear and silent in a absence of the same chaos that surrounded it, revealing the image of its opposing side in full distinction.

No Caption Provided

As the mirror within the oval displayed the dim dungeon, the hallway lost the roaming detective, who became absent to the view of the portal opening. As Bela stepped down on of the few corridors, stretching through the area of mystery, he noticed the increasingly windy smell of ash and bone as he followed the imprint of shoe soles on the dirt floor. The scent that flowed into the narrow nostrils of the pale figure was that of a wall covered in skulls and well-cladded pillars of bone. Long dead and isolated down in these chambers, the Jest halted once he met the view of the ancient catacomb burial sites that were closed off from the public. While the flashlight caught the shadows of the skulls’ eyes piercing at him in morbid attention, he immediately felt the cold shiver of the overwhelming amount of dead lying down below the streets of the city.

No Caption Provided

As the shaking of the tunnel leaked remanences of dirt from the ceiling, caused by the nearest passing of a subway car, more than half a mile away, Bela knew by the assistance of his watch’s return to normality that he was still in his own world. With a slip of his L-shaped flashlight onto his belt, while his free left hand was rubbing his throbbing head, he reached his right hand into his pocket and pulled out his rosary. Placing the beaded necklace around his neck with the rest of his talismans, the brunette took a breath of stiff air before walking forward through the series of bone covered passageways. Turning numerous corners and spiraling staircases, the Brit found himself wandering down into a silent chamber cell bars and chains. Open to entry, he stopped at the wet slick spots on the cold brick floor. Seeing into the dark room, the cryptid investigator noticed the silent mothman. Sitting upon a wooden swing, like a small caged bird, the creature stared at the solitary being.

Stepping down into the low swaying pool of black water, drawing up to his ankles, the Jest shined his light through the room and kept his eyes on the mothman. Moving closer with caution, the beast did not move one bit. Hovering above the floor on its swing, the aerial being sat in a state of condemned encasement. With Bela’s hand gripping his pistol, his other pointed the light upon grey-feathered monster. As the two stood within a quick few feet of each other, the only sound was that of the rippling water, the only activity was that of dripping drops of water and dirt. “What’cha doing down here, fella?”, he asked the animalistic cryptid, fully aware of its inability to speak back in reply. With no windows and one doorway behind the torn cell door, Bela wondered if this was a prison for the beast. Looking over the space further, he turned from the grimy walls of stone and returned his sight to the red orbs of the mothman’s face, “…indeed, I do believe ye could do far better, if I may…”. Speaking in a quiet tone of passiveness, the Jest eventually stopped to look into the creature’s large eyes. In a state of thought and mental connection, the detective wondered what the unearthly creature knew. Tucking his hands into his pants pockets, with slumped shoulders and a head sloped up in attempt to meet glares with the humongous being, Bela stood in the still darkness.

d^_^b

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#116 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

The birdman did not catch the advice over the portal's humming. The light blinded him temporarily before spitting him out in what seemed like a crypt. "Great," he whispered, "more voices likely." Mentally preparing for any anguished cries of the dead, he moved on. He traveled for some time through the tunneled corridors. As he began to think he was lost, the birdman began to hear a faint voice. Following it down some winding stairs, he eventually arrived into a chamber housing the mothman. Bela stood staring at it. Ghost Bird moved quite and quick to the detective's side. "It's not attacking?" he asked in confusion.

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#117 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Sitting on the swing of its cell, the detective could see the chain on the right ankle of the large beast, trapping it down onto the grounds that it was hovering over. With a lift of his hand, the Jest gazed up at the head of the figure. With eyes that contained the thought of many lifetimes, the silent creature sat still as the thin young lad placed his pale white fingertips onto the rigid feathers that lied upon the chest of the coated beast of mystery. Seeing the shimmering light that reflected from the gem-like orbs that the creature bared for eyes, Bela immediately witnessed the mind of the being, frozen in contemplation and consciousness.

No Caption Provided

Summoned and captured into a trap by men in tented blackness and shadows that paid resemblance to the abstract nature of wickedness. As visions of dark rooms and stuffy corridors filled his mind, the sight of a grand room filled his view with the cloudy monastery. Through a door that bent and swayed with molded wood, a circular chamber surrounded an altar that rode to a centering podium. Bela watched as the creature was captured and carried through the room. Pointed ceiling and off-kilter door thresholds, the shadows appeared to lie in a stasis of irregular shapes and methods that defied the clogged world of fear and seclusion that they inhabited.

As the screams of a few lingered in the side of the subterranean altar, the detective stood in the center of the memories that he could picture out of the mothman’s head. As three crucifixes stood in the dirt, three captives lied tied to the planked wood. Coated in cold blood that was not of their own, kneeling cloaked figures circled them with torches of heated flames and light smoke. Prayers of sadism and evils marked each planted plank, as the captives cried and moaned, Bela froze as the sight of one being the dug-up body of Dr. Crest. Unconscious and stripped down to his undergarments, the investigator noticed a young woman tied down beside him, under the dimly yellow torch lighting that formed a funky chiaroscuro applicant of dramatic contrast between thick light and shadows elongated mystery. As the young Jest viewed the three suffering figures in shock of the two men who lied tied above the floor, he assumed the long lady may be the second French girl that was kidnapped by the group. Turing away from the scene, Bela followed the murky men that led the mothman to its cell. Seeing the dankly tight chamber of the beast, a surplus of overwhelming images from the creature before being awoken by the call of the birdman.

Parting from the tall feathered being, Bela turned around to see his partner’s presence. With a stretch of his slumping posture, he addressed the inquiring figure. “hm, Mothmen aren’t fighter...they’re foreseer, summoning creatures to fight for them…”, his voice echoed through the room of aged brick and crumbling stone. “Besides, beastie couldn’t square if’d he wanted to…he’s chain’d up.”, the detective muttered as he examined the cuffs wrapped around its ankle. With a few seconds of thought, “…its quite paradoxical, I’d suppose…”, he muttered on about the cryptids' ability to foresee the danger that they themselves summon. But, he fore he could carry on, he thought of the acid that he collected earlier. Digging through his pocket for his vile of the funky green liquid, the mindful lad poured a few drops onto the silver curl of metal. As stream and sizzling bubbles popped, the acid immediately burned through the cuff, freeing the creature. As it stood in silence without movement or sound in reaction to the restraints being lifted, it simply vanished upon realization, leaving the two men in the wrecked cell. “…ye’re welcome…”, Bela exhaled in a low nonchalant tone, as he moved on to survey the rest of the room.

Walking around the room, he eyed the walls, swaying through the rippling water, and listened to the crumbling ceiling. “…I believe we may very well be within close proximity of their lair…..but, where to?”, he took a natural peak at his pocket watch before continuing the search of the room. Taking a few seconds of onlooking, the drab suited man noticed the water pouring in from a crack in the wall. Lining the bottom of the cell’s floor, a crater marked the inward bending of the brick wall. Rippling water discretely into the holding area, Bela stepped up upon the feeble surface. Kneeling before it, he felt a draft of airflow simmering from behind the wall, leading to the realization of an open area behind the unfortunately sturdy wall. “I don’t suppose ye could handle this, ey?”, he asked the birdman, after trying and failing to topple the barrier of stone and cemented brick. Standing up, the detective moved away and back to the entrance of the chamber. Assuring his understanding of the direction back, the Brit dug through his bag and prepared his equipment.

--------------------------------

Behind the Wall

A corridor of large clay brick and tattered wood led a path of dim torches and pouring water through a long evacuated and drained sewer system, the cold hall of air and wind ended in a small series of loose chambers and tunnels that led to the temple in Bela’s vision. Dripping debris of dirt and loose clay, the crackling flames created an atmosphere of heat through the the waving stream of water the filled a pool of black liquid. With the water coming from wells of water from the surface world above, it ran down the staircase of the temple and into the hidden sewer below.

d^_^b

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#118 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

Ghost Bird was surprised by the mothman's lack of violence upon release. It was a slave it seemed. As Bela examined the room, he began to wonder why his master sent him here in the first place. Punishment was the goal, but even that old bird knew galavanting around the world was ineffective.

"Hm, let me see." The birdman responded to Bela's request. Packing his five ton strength into a shoulder charge, he rushed towards the wall.

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#119 Edited by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Ramming through the wall, a great thud erupted as the bricks blew forward from the force of the armoured figure’s superb showing of strengthful might. Leading to the remains of the barrier to crumble into the slick mud that soaked the ground, dust and clay-filled debris jumped for the air and swarmed the hall, as the torches all blew out. As if the wind was haunting them with the presence of darkness, the moist passage of sewer smells and dungeon chills hit Bela with awareness as he immediately raced his belt-mounted flashlight into the blackness. “Graditudes…”, the young man muttered, before stepping through with cautious patient and a hand on his chest. Feeling the beating heart resting under numerous talismans of protection, the Jest saw walls of stale water residue and rotted fungi, smelled the horrors of the deep cavern system of the macrebe, and heard he isolated drips inking in from the cracks in the rocky roof. As rats scurried away in frightened reaction to the swaying puddles of water under the soles of their feet, the detective eased up a stone case of steps, embarking on a inclining rise to the alter room of terror.

Empty and silent, he darted his attention to the creeping sound of a hidden escape door closing on the farther side of the circular room, with a quick dismounting aim of his pistol. As large slabs of rock and stone constructed the walls of the gloomy area, Bela stared at the podium that stood in the center of the room. Stepping up the round layers of steps, his clicking shoes echoed against the solid surfaces of the chamber, as he examined the podium to see dust marks of a removed book of some sort. Candles and roses were left lying along the floor, leaving the pale Jest to wonder if someone may have heard them, and hurried to escape. Meaning they may be aware of the two’s intrusion, Bela knew they needed to be cautious. Moving to the far end of the room, where two open coffins lied, they were filled with a pool of draining blood and soaked corpse. “…seems we’ve found Mr. Crest…”, the Jest aimed his light down into the coffin, seeing the face of the dead villain facing up from the crimson red. The body of second coffin contained the suited priest of the secret society. Lying as dead as the former figure gabbed in gentlemanly fabrics, both men were drained of their lives’ essence and emptied into a series of engraved lining systems leading the blood into the ground.

Kneeling to wonder where the red liquid was leaking down to, the pale mindful lad looked up in time to see the lass hanging from the crucifix boarded to the wall. Blood sweltering out of the bruises of wrist and ankles tied by rope-burn and reddened skin, as her sore petite frame hung in pain and tiredness, her head drooled the mixture of bodily liquid and numbness. “ow my…”, the startled detective stood up at the sight of the drabbed hair of the slick ginger, and stared at the image of the writing on the surface around her. ‘G.n.S’, ‘He Will Rise’, ‘Earth Will Bow’, 'The Dead Lives in Us', 'Life Must Die to Awaken Fully', 'You Will Fall’, and other lines of words and symbols dripped blood down the walls around her. Assured that the lady was the young French girl that was kidnapped earlier, "...we should probably get the lass down", Bela put his weapon away.

d^_^b

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#120 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

As the dust cleared, the birdman caught the sight of a rushed escape. Candles and roses littered the floor. Cautiously, he moved with the detective towards two open coffins. Upon investigation and Bela's words, Ghost Bird finally saw the face of his target, this Mr. Crest.

Blood soaked and in the middle of some cult ritual, it all screamed bad vibes. The shivers only heightened when the detective pointed out the woman hung to a crucifix. Hellish doomsayings surrounded the surface around her as well as the intials G.n.S.

"Those are the initals I saw on the suits that attacked Blaze." he mentioned as he began to free the woman as gently as he could. As soon as she was down, ghost bird planned to deal with the corpse.

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#121 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Standing over the coffin-like tubs, full of drying blood and emptied life, the figure lying within them were left in their once-fine suits of luxury and class. Now withering like prunes drowned in the sourness of their salty essence, the two beings lied in a gory scene of their death. As the flashlight-driven Jest stared down at the blank expression on the once unstressed face of Mr. Crest, he kneel to dig in his bag. While the birdman helped the wounded lass off of the wall-mount, paying memorial attention to the writing around them, Bela grabbed a small skull bottle of liquid. “Yes, seems the G.n.S are within reach of something immensely dangerous…but what, that’s the question…”, he stated as he wet his right hand with a thick oil of red olive colouring. Blanketing his skin in the substance of enriched spices and scents, the investigating medium looked to the hand of the villain. Hanging over the edge of the tub’s scum-plagued rim, their touched hands began to glow a dim shape of greenish yellow, as the body of the Crest began to jerk and bounce in the splashing water.

Closed and reserved from all but the growing power of the mustering magic in his arm, the Jest watched as a green light busted up from the tub, pulling orbs of energy from the sky. Crest’s body, dead and lifeless, opened its pupiless eyes with urgency, before gapping open his mouth and screaming for mercy. While a light appeared in the thin air above him, an image of his soul, long left in a cold slumber of the afterlife, the conscious of the suited figure had returned to its original home within its blood-soaked body. Grabbing to the detective’s hand that held him in the stasis of life, Crest’s face was one of shock and gasp, as he searched for an explanation. “Wha! What-ho—where am I…what have you done to me?”, the aged body continued breathing dangerously, as if it was new to it, as the spirit looked at Bela with wide eyes before seeing the crimson blood of him, slashing as a result of his uncontrollable body. Hovering horizontally over his body, enough to resemble two faces of differing expression: pain and shock, the bloody one further begged for an understanding. “I’m dead—I’m not? Why am I here, why have you brought me here?”, his hollow force trembled from beyond this plain of the living, as the room rattled with each word.

“…hello Luther…I’m Bela Jest, detective…and it seems someone else has brought ye here for a purpose unknown to us…”, the investigator stated to a coldly stunned spirit. “—Jest?”, he muttered immediately in reaction, “yes, youngest of Olli Jest…”, before the retort of Bela’s. “Why have you awakened me, Jest? What have I done to deserve the face of mi foe’s baby boy…”, Crest stated with a small part in his ghostly lips, sink low to the surface of the tub body, Bela leaned over his bent knee, planting up against the rim. “ow, fella, seems like someone else is interested in yer resurrection…there have been a tremendous amount of activity going on, within the past few hours…”, the pale lad stated, facing down into the pool of swirling burgundies and reds, “kidnappings of innocent lasses, burning bikers, mothmen, haunted cemeteries…all for ye, mi good man…”. Drawing a crystal glare from the transparent eyes of the mystic spirit, Mr. Crest’s body continued gasping through the pain of his lifeless organs vibrating between live and death, the bioluminescent soul nonchalantly retorted with blandness in his lack of care. “And that involves mi, how?...you don’t possibly believe I would be involved with every loose-witted nut who tries to retrieve my body?”, holding the Jest’s attention in the lowness of his voice, Bela spoke quickly. “No, I want to know what is Morphisto up to? He’s planning something, I sure…”, he asked with a few seconds of pause, awaiting an answer, before Luther replied. “I have no idea, mate…..the dark lord locked mi away in the void of shadows, after I failed to defeat yer father…I haven’t had contact with him since I died…..”, the transparent spirit faded in and out of visible sight, echoing with his tone, as the detective held his lifeless hand in empty thought of the cold fingers that trembled under the metaphysical force of the past spirit.

d^_^b

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#122 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

After removing the woman and treating her wounds as best as he could, the birdman turned his attention to the newly arrived spirit. It seemed that Crest was more of a prisoner then a dark lord. This Morphisto shared the same "lock up the undesirables" solution as his master. Perhaps he could use that to his advantage. "Mr. Crest, it seems like you're a prisoner of this lord of yours. I think we can help each other out if that is the case." Ghost Bird offered through a false tounge. The birdman was not above false promises to criminals as long as it got the job done.

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#123 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Cold and retrospective, the soaked spirit dabbed his mind in the memory of his resting place. A realm drenched in darkness and sorrow, it reflected his life in its sincerest. “…I assure you, there’s nothing you lads could do to assistance my position of being…”, he spoke in a soothing tone of somber thoughts and understandings, as his soul grew pale, “the hollow yard of my slumbering chill is my fate. And, I’ve long accepted that to be so…..suits me for tampering with gods and immortals; even if joyful for all but an instant”. As his eyes stared at the sky, focusing on the other end of death, he took a deep breath, “…besides, the shadows have always been mi only friends”.

No Caption Provided

As the spirit fell into silence, well content with his statement; enough so to not have anything else to contribute to the conversation. Mr. Crest awaiting a return to his torturous isolation of introversion, while Bela sat in thought. Trying to think of a method of getting more information, his connection broke once he heard the sound of the second tub shaking. Causing him to let go of the macabre gentleman’s frozen fingers, the detective pieced over to see a purple fog spraying from the tub that held the blood of the former leader of the occultist club, Dr. Hallo’hween. Standing to his floating feet with the force of his own ability, the spirit glared at the room with much distress as he witnessed his dead body drained of blood. “What fi happen ti I?...”, he whimpered under his skullish face paint, as he held the appearance of a voodoo priest. Looking to the two living men for answers, “…how tis begot unto me?”, he called out in his patios of multiculturalism, in a similar dialect as Blaze. “…ye’re dead Doctor…..at least, ye’re supposed to be”, the young Jest announced to the man, while aiming his silver bullet-loaded revolver, ready to take a shot if need be, the weakened spirit fell to his knees within the tub. Obviously displaying a cold wonder of how and who could have brought this to the man who proudly led the G.n.S with confident power; “…dem fah set up I, me guess, ay? Stab mi back wit ah shard of betrayal…”, Hallo’hween bowed his head after seeing the corpse of Crest and the running blood that slithered down a funnel into the dirt.

“…who are they, Doctor?...these men who betrayed ye…..”, the sunken lad stepped upon the recoiled browned figure. Seeing his green eyes, stressed with the moist tears of all that he built being stripped from him, his mouth huffed with a want for vengeance, “…Iffa had ti be Virgil Gabriela…he was mi brother-inna-arms. But, wi be at odds fi de latest…..dat be all mi could tink of…”, he openly revealed his brother in robes, too traumatized by death to follow the code of the club, or hold loyalty to a potential thief. “…why would Virgil want with the leadership of the club? Have he displayed any intentions in channeling Morphisto?”, Bela asked in a thought of curiosity. Getting a slight chuckle from the ex-leader, “Mi fah hope not…de dark lord has been absent ever since fi ya papa an dat kid em’ah defeated him, much ago…..Virgil no draw on lord no bi…he fi find him luck dry…..”, the Doctor’s spirit muttered in memory, as his body sunk to the bottom of the tub, bubbling up crimson splashes. "No, no, no, he be after power, dem ah want...the poison of power, respect, luxury.....badmen like Virgil fah burn ti world, if a' mean 'emma get ti de top...", the Doctor stared into his face, rippling through the foggy mist of furky purple lights and dankness. Pondering the thought of what he would do, he heard the Jest ask for the location of the the suspect. "...cheek mi'a home, backyard, inna de bayou...last time mi fi see dem boys, they were down thar...", he sat in the water that affected him none, as his sniffing the scent of burning spices and fumes of another world.

d^_^b

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#124 Edited by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

Cursing under his breath the birdman went back to tending for the woman. He could not brand a spirit and his bait was not hooking. But, his attention was caught again as someone else rose from the bloody tub. Dr. Hallo'hween, a man who sounded like Blaze. After hearing what this doctor had to say, the birdman quickly ask the risen man before he could forget. "What does G.n.S. stand for. The brand blocks my own."

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#125 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Looking up from his sulking position on the rim pf the tub, the doctor eyed the birdman with dulled eyes of weariness. Ghull n’ Skull…..ghouls inna da dead amongst men, dat fi de way of thi G.n.S…..”, Hallo’hween’s deeply mystical voice flowed like smoke in the calm breeze, explaining the meaning of the cabalistic title. Catching the mind of Bela Jest, who was caught staring at the wall of cryptic messages, he turned his thoughts to the inclinations that came with the name. “…..is that what ye are doing, doctor?”, the detective thought to the buying of people, and connection to the realm of demons and ghouls. “ye supply host; bodies to the undead, ey?”, the lad figured in a brash haze of thought, upon the reason wraith, ghouls, and vampires were all working for them, “Nah bodies! Wi don’t supply host, wi gi dem essence…..blood. The somber spirit spoke with an alert tone, “…drough blood an’ earth, yuh can bond pretti much anythin’…body of spells, body of hexs, body fi de dead…”. Drawing the detective's eyes to the trails of blood leaking through needle-thin holes in the ground, composed to forge host for the dead, Bela wondered if that was what the tubs of blood was for. As crimson liquid sunk from the grimy drum-like tubs of tin, while the scribbled-up blood soaked corpses swayed in the remainder.

“…where does the blood go, doctor?”, Bela figured the blood was collected somewhere to form a capsule for someone of power. “Mi no know, detective…ye haf fi see…..”, the man muttered in a thinning of his coursed lips, as the young Jest grabbed his phone. Stepping to the girl, they needed to get her to safety before continuing. As his mind remembered the portal still being opened, Bela called Ed, left to a hold of isolated buzzes. “Ed, we’ve found the kidnapped lass. But, she’s in a bad way…would ye mind coming to pick her up?........just follow the smell of rotting flesh-”, he muttered before cutting the line to return to the task at hand. Looking around the chambered room of rock walls and chalky floors, “okay, so-where to, now?”, the investigating Brit walked to the wall and began observing it for signs of a hidden exit point.

d^_^b

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#126 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

The birdman pondered the information the good doctor had given. The power this group used worried him more then their goals. Anyone can get to the top of power with enough money and influence, but to use things like blood rituals? As he pondered, the birdman began searching the walls. With his ability to hear the forlorn dead, any secret path should be easy to pinpoint.

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#127 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Cold and stiff, the chalky walls of earthly dirt and soot stood strong enough to press back from any attempt that the Jest made to find a weak point. Pick and knocking at the rock, to hear an echo of hollowness, which would point to some opening of space, Bela continued into his subtlety failed attempts, as the birdman also searched. While the lass lied in a stilled state of patients, waiting for the warming demons to rescue her to safety, the detective’s armoured partner utilized his advanced cryptid talents to listen for signs through the dark surfaces of rusted metals, covered with hot dirt, drenched in dried blood.

A hidden doorway entrance did so lie behind the rocky wall, buried into the corner under the lower region of the room. It’d open into a lowering well of stone steps, damp and smoky, leading down into a series of airy tunnels and caves. Lying on the birdman’s side of the room, he’d walk over its thinned ground-path in time of his search. Loose enough to batter through with some force, the locked path would prove much for the figure who’d previously torn through the last wall of brick and stone.

d^_^b

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#128 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

Listening for a few minutes, Ghost Bird soon heard the ever familiar cries of forlorn spirits. They whispered from behind a wall in the lower region of the room. Upon examination, the birdman tried to bull through like before but with little success. The wall was tougher than the last. "Bella, I found our exit, but it will take some time to knock down. Look for an opening mechanism while I continue." he called to the detective.

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#129 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween:

Quickly moving to his partner’s location, the thin-framed Jest hustled across the room, focused on the assisting the birdman in breaking through the wall. As the stronger of the two pressed against the walls, the pale Brit kneeled beside the wall. Facing the cold stone and rock surface, he felt for a given, as he looked for any anomalies. Witnessing no such deferred of any indication of a lever or access point, the blackly dressed figure figured it was an intricately disguised pattern of bricks. So, he looked through his pocketbook of runes and charms. Digging through page of symbols and drawings of mystic meaning, the detective ended on an eye-glass spell, displaying the image of numerous Latin translations following the circle of the frame, Bela lifted his head and began to mutter onto the sight of his hands.

“Per speculum in omnibus lux est, in requiem tuam manu, ut offerrent super novam terram”, he crooned out the ancient language of Latin, speaking the hymns of the illuminated pages, the lad’s hand touched the walls, as a light spawned around his lengthy arm. A circling of light, gold and round in the form of a bands hovering around his arms. Rotating as he delivered the words, his hand shined with the brightness of a flashlight, piercing through the wall of stone with a light that allowed them to see into it. Searching from a mechanism around the door, he hovered his hand and followed the frame of the door, before seeing the lever on the right side of the enclosed entrance. “I see it…”, he stated before following it to the position of the padding. While the golden light lit the connection of stone pads and button.

No Caption Provided

A series of bricks that required a specific code to unlock, Bela returned to the pages of his book. Lingering his open hand over the bricks, he found a page and began to read off of it. “Per clausuris, et seris: et vincula, ostende mihi viam, in se cadere universa…”, his brightened arm of gold faded into brownish green, as the bricks on the wall moved forward into the sequence of buttons that unlocked the door. And, after it was through, a sound of heavy restraints sliding out gonged into the room, as the door easily pushed in and out of its framing, from the birdman’s force. Revealing the halls of stone steps leading down into a tight hall of clay rock and brick. Dark with mounted torches high above them, the roof was black with soot, and the floor was lined with dirt.

d^_^b

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#130 Posted by Dr_Halloween (635 posts) - - Show Bio

@superstay:

Ghost Bird could feel the door giving as the detective chanted his incantations and after a moments the way was open. The way was lit and filthy but at least they were not stuck. Looking down the hall, the birdman commented, "You know, ever since I took this avatar mantle, the weird just seems to find me." He turned to the detective as he started walking, "How about you?"

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#131 Posted by superstay (12360 posts) - - Show Bio

@dr_halloween: @dr_halloween: @dr_halloween:

“Hehe, when ye’re born into the family as mine, weirdness is a rather fond relative, whom refuses to leave…”, the cold smirk of the lad lingered along the corner of his parched lips, before he exhaled a hollow breath. Taking a gulp of his amber-shaded pills, Bela grabbed his flashlight and began his trek down the steps of stone and dirt, locked by the staleness of the muddy puddles. Centered in the middle of the constricted hall of earthen clay rock and warm brick, dark with mounted torches that lined before them, the rooftop was black with soot, and the floor was paved with dirt. As rats squeaked at the alarming presence of the tapping shoe souls of the pair, scurrying away in a hurry for safety, the detective followed the trail of pathways, walking through fragmented puddles of murky water.

Heading around a corridor of widening walls, they were plastered with the same skulls and bone fragments that formed the catacombs above them. Dripping with moisture from the ceiling, the skulls, which once homes the essence of a mortal’s thought, were not home to the insects and the rats that fed off of them. “…it sure is spine-chilling, how much life holds, while we live our quaint little fragments of life. Until we are granted sight to see, we may never know the disturbing vastness that lies beyond us…”, he thought to all that his father had written about, based on true misadventures. Further proven just by what he alone has witnessed, the Jest was well aware of the vastness of eternity that lingered beyond the multitude that his mortal brain could comprehend. As his eyes glanced at the shocked face of a rat, sniffing in the direction of the two from the safety of a walled-skull’s eye socket, Bela thought of the ignorance of the small critters of the wild. “…..ignorance really is blissful, as the squeals of the fat land-darting beings hurried for holes in the wall, “It’s chilling to look into the eyes of the likes of these rats, living the couple years that they do…..they’d never fathom the concept of a being like Morphisto, or the power behind this cult. The idea of otherworldly beings, heaven, hell, evil and grandiose concepts of immortality and eternal life...all very much outside of their unfortunate understanding...or maybe, fortunate understanding.”.

Moving through the hallway of crackling flames and bony shadows, the breeziness of the tunnel rippled with chills, once the investigating detective discovered a round tomb of emptiness at the end of the singular pathway. A dead end to the sights, the enclosed well was wrapped with skulls and encased with sawed bones and stones. Without their jawbones, they were leaking blood onto the flood, into a pool that was already a few inches tall. Nearly a foot in height, swirling with the loose dirt of the floor, Bela stood on the steps before the well. Staring into the blood before stepping down to study the room, he looked around the cryptic wall of macabre for any sign of the next clue. “…seems we may have a time finding what’s behind this end…”, he poured his light into the shadows and thought to what may come next.

d^_^b