Gray is from the novel Shadows of Old Town by T. Olsen. References to, or interactions with, other characters are merely interdimensional, and constitute no assumption of canon or ownership of intellectual property.
Shadows of Old Town can be purchased here: https://books2read.com/u/m27XdR
T. Olsen can be found here: https://linktr.ee/tamiolsen
I needed to find a way back to Sangarie. The last few days had been an eye-opening—and oftentimes terrifying—adventure, but the disappearing bar the night before reminded me how dangerous this place was. I wasn’t supposed to be here.
I dressed in the black leather armor the trio had given me, but I was planning on giving them the slip today. I needed to go back into the dungeon and find my way to that fog-filled tunnel and go back the way I came. The armor might help if the strange tentacle returned… and whatever it was attached to.
I strode through the subterranean streets of the Saturn Hotel, trying not to stare at the collection of strange races and creatures around me. Most were carrying cups of what I’d learned was called coffee, greeting each other for another day of the convention festival.
A tall man dressed in a robe and a pointy hat bumped into me from behind, apologizing breathlessly. I checked my belongings, but everything was there. The man slapped a piece of paper against my chest and peered desperately into my eyes. “Have you seen the librarian?”
I raised an eyebrow. “I don’t think so?”
He sighed and started to dart away, but I grabbed his arm to hold him still.
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Characters are getting out of their books. Why did it have to be horror themed this year?” He tugged his arm out of my grip and ran off, leaving the piece of paper I held.
I glanced at it, and it seemed to be a list of things to do if you encountered what they called “a Lovecraftian horror.” Mostly not engaging and reporting to authorities. I crumpled the paper in my fist and tossed it into a blinking barrel labeled for trash. I had enough problems without talking to the authorities here.
A voice from behind me made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. “The oldest and strongest emotion of mankind is fear, and the oldest and strongest kind of fear is fear of the unknown.”
I spun and looked at a well-groomed man in a brown suit. He clutched a pile of books in his arms and used a finger to push his glasses further up his nose. His eyes darted around the street, clocking every strange creature that passed by, his feet shuffling nervously.
I frowned, going against my better judgment by responding to him. “Are you talking to me?”
He grimaced and looked at me more closely. “The most merciful thing in the world, I think, is the inability of the human mind to correlate all its contents. We live on a placid island of ignorance in the midst of black seas of infinity, and it was not meant that we should voyage far.”
This man gave me the shudders. I put half a pace more between us. “I didn’t mean to voyage this far. All I want is to go back.”
He nodded. “We’re working on that.”
My brow creased and I backed away farther. “What should I do, then?”
“Just stay away from Cthulhu and his denizens.”
The name meant nothing to me. Before I could ask more, the man caught sight of something in the distance and scurried off faster than a pickpocket in the Old Market Square. I cursed and tried to keep track of him, but it was no use.
A hand gripped my shoulder from behind and I nearly jumped out of my skin. I pulled a knife from the sheaths at the small of my back and grabbed the hand, twisting it and spinning to aim for the hollow of the person’s armpit, and stopped just short of stabbing Clancy.
He cursed and shoved my blade away. “Great Gygax’s beard, boy! Why are you so jumpy? We aren’t even in the dungeon yet.”
I tossed a look over my shoulder in the direction the librarian had gone. “Lots of weird shit going on this morning.”
The man looked at me blankly.
I sighed and slipped my knife back in the sheath. “Do any of you know who Cthulhu is?”
His expression went from shock to unease, then into guilt. I glanced at the others and they all seemed to have the same mix of guilt and unease. I frowned. “You do.”
Clancy turned me around, walking toward the dungeon entrance we typically used. “The thing about this convention is it somehow pulls in things it doesn’t intend. This year it’s all manner of horror characters. We’ve been doing our part to keep the dungeons clear for attendees.”
Claudette interjected. “And we’ve appreciated your help, even if you’re an unregistered character.”
I scowled at her, not sure why I was offended by the name “unregistered character” but certain I didn’t like it.
Clancy pulled my attention back to him. “Point is, we’re cleaning out the monsters so Ed can concentrate on helping to fix it all. The librarians are running all over trying to figure it out.” He straightened and stared past his crooked nose at me. “We could still use your help.”
I thought about the fog, and the tentacles, and the paper shoved into my chest earlier. It sounded like someone was trying to send things home that didn’t belong here, and it might be safer waiting for that to happen than braving the fog again. I nodded and took a steadying breath.
“Yeah. I guess I could do that.”
The big man grinned. “Perfect! Now let’s go kill some things!”
Comments