House of Cthulhu Ch. 01

Grau put the empty tea cup back on the table.

"We should get into gears, our guest will be arriving any minute."

He rose, and so did Sibyl. She took her coat from the chair she had tossed it over together with the empty shoulder holster.

"No, leave it, my dear. It would be a bit out of place. Besides, there is no reason our guest shouldn't see who you are."

Sibyl was dressed in a Vestis, the classic upper garment for a female Nightbringer ("we stick to tradition in that point"). It was a high-collared, tight-fitting kid leather waistcoat with lacings at its sides. The rather soft material granted protection against light cut and thrust weapons without hampering her mobility. Underneath she was wearing her trusty long sleeved thermo shirt, which had done a good job on the rooftop earlier this night.

A knock on the door.

"Come in!"

A servant girl appeared in the door.

"Härra Doktor, Countess Sawatzki has arrived."

~

The counter hall lay as dark and gloomy as before, but was now showing activities at the main entrance. One of the high double doors had been opened, and a small number of staff was bustling about. Crossing the hall at Grau's side, Sibyl saw a convoy of three cars outside. It was the one in the middle that caught her attention, an exaggerated Jaguar sports car. A servant was just squeezing himself behind the wheel to drive it into the bank's basement garage (originally meant for armoured cars). The black Jag's owner, however, was led into the hall. In the artificial twilight Sibyl made out the form of a tall female in expensive, fitted coat and skirt.

I wonder how she had managed to get out of that car in a halfway ladylike fashion.

"Doktor Grau...!"

The woman smiled and strode towards them, her long red hear waving, the high heels of her D'Orsays staccatoing on the marble. She raised her tightly gloved hand, and Grau greeted her by kissing it. Being unsure of how to behave, Sibyl stayed aside whilst host and guest were exchanging phrases. She was surprised of the woman's age: The Countess was young, maybe even younger than herself. Sibyl had expected some old witch.

Well, we got us a young witch...

"Countess Sawatzki, may I introduce our -- I daresay -- fledgling to you: Sibyl."

"Then this must be your youngster Nightbringer!" Sawatzki gazed at Sibyl with brilliant eyes, actually speaking with her dark, rich voice to her, not to Grau. "The one whom we owe the pleasing events of the last hours."

Sibyl briefly indicated a curtsey: "Countess."

How farcical is that?! We might have been in the same kindergarten group!

"A room is ready for you, Countess. You might want to rest before we begin."

"Oh no, my dear Doktor! You have suffered enough from my requirements. Am I correct that our lady Nightbringer will attend us?"

"Indeed. This is now part of her duties."

That last line was meant for me.

On several occasions Sibyl had tried to talk herself out of this particular duty. But Grau's decision was unmoveable ("we stick to tradition in that point, too"). Tonight she was to witness the immolation for the first time. And her uneasiness about it was not exactly lessened by meeting the person who would be in charge.

Albert Grau, all gentleman, lent the Countess a helping hand on the long, descending flight of stairs. Slightly lacking enthusiasm, Sibyl walked behind them down into the foundation of Vilms & Järvi.

~

The High Priestess

Two persons were already present in the dim vault when Sawatzki, Sibyl and the Doktor entered through the massive round door. The first was one of Sawatzki's personal guards whom introducing to Sibyl no one bothered. He had obviously prepared the room for the things to come. The second was Balogh László, a Nightbringer (as a Hungarian, his surname came first, so he was härra Balogh). He greeted the Countess in a respectful, yet swift manner. To Sibyl he said nothing, but pressed her shoulder encouragingly. With Sibyl and László, all Nightbringers currently in town were attending. It should be pointed out here that the House of Cthulhu was not limited to the very building of Vilms & Järvi, nor to this looming city. Countess Sawatzki, for example, had just travelled over two hundred kilometres and had never left the realm of the Great One doing so.

On the redhead's signal the group formed a loose half-circle, backs to the walls. Sibyl had manoeuvred herself next to the rawboned Hungarian for some moral support. Sawatzki stripped her short coat off, revealing an elaborated corset-like top with red embroidery, not unlike the carvings on Sybil's Vestis (except for the colour, of course). Her nameless guard took the coat to a corner and placed it neatly onto the sole furniture in the room. From this table he returned with a small brass bowl in his hands. Thin, strong-smelling smoke rose from the receptacle -- somewhat was mouldering in it like in a little brazier.

The Countess leaned over and inhaled deeply, even fanning the fumes with her hand. Soon the vault was filled up with the distinctive aroma of burning herbals, and it took only some moments for Sibyl to feel dizzy.

Luckily the guard took the bowl away, but Sibyl's relieve was short-lived: Two Askirtay in ceremonial armour entered, with the nude girl from the maisonette between them. Her terrible hood had been removed, but no one had worried to free her from the gag. Like most people, Sibyl had never really reflected on how tormenting a solid gag could be. Staring at the black sphere shining from saliva ("I thought these things were always red"), she realised that the poor girl had been strictly gagged for more than three hours.

Her jaws must be ablaze!

Beyond that, the straps holding the large rubber ball behind her teeth had cut deeply into the lips, pulling them back and distorting her once pretty face. Needless to say that the miserable girl was still in handcuffs.

Sawatzki, who had walked the half circle, brought her mouth close to Sibyl's ear.

"Do you like what you see?"

"Don't let my outfit misguide you, Countess. I'm far too vanilla for this."

The dark voice chuckled, then was gone.

As the naked girl was dragged to the centre, she searched for any hints of pity in the attenders' faces. When she looked at Sibyl, the young Nightbringer lowered her eyes.

The Countess beckoned the Askirtay to retreat, and the girl made a weak run for it. But Sawatzki only had to seize the ring piercing her victim's left nipple to force her onto her knees.

Why does that silly goose carry hoops through her tits anyway?

In her salad days Sibyl once had set forth to have her belly button pierced, but after seeing the needle she had decided her navel to be sexy enough.

With divaesque attitude Sawatzki began to recite an ancient incantation. On precisely defined points she paused to have the participants answer in equally arcane phrases. Sibyl murmured half-heartedly along with them. One last time the Countess called upon the Old One, then fell silent. Sibyl shuffled her feet nervously beside László.

Sawatzki grabbed the betrayed girl's head with both hands, her own face suddenly of a blank expression.

Although never witnessing it before, Sibyl knew the theory: This was nothing else than a hardcore version of the "Beholding", the initiative ordeal, in which the novice gained a glimpse of the true, horrid nature of the universe. There it would be just enough to turn believing into knowing, whereas the pitiful girl to the Countess' feet was to be given a deeper insight. Still only a grain of sand, yet enough to annihilate her unprepared mind.

The corners of Sawatzki's mouth began to twitch. Her lids flew open and revealed eyes rolled back into their sockets until only white was visible. Her victim gave a muffled screech, then trembled under an invisible attack on her sanity.

The doomed human being renewed her outcry, then bit into the gag. Her teeth sank deep into rubber material, jaw muscles trembling and protruding. Her whole body began to shudder in spasms, as if she were having an epileptic seizure. Blood appeared first from her nose and then from her ear canals.

Was so far morbid fascination part of her emotions, Sibyl was now fighting the acrid taste that rose into her pharynx. Before her, the girl's face was disfigured into a mask of utter dread, a soundless scream escaped her throat, then her skin became waxen, and her eyes finally gazed over.

Sibyl turned away and regurgitated behind László.

~

One could ask why the Greats should acknowledge the offering of a single sacrifice, for they had used to feast on whole words. All these entities, the Great Old Ones as well as the Outer Gods and the Elder Gods, were sleeping since ages in the darkest corners of the cosmos, dreaming of their bygone power. Nevertheless, worshipping them secured their immanent presence and furthermore gained substantial benefits. A strong stomach, though, was none of these.

Sibyl kept her gaze averted when the Askirtay removed the lifeless body. In the vault's centre the Countess, now with a complexion pale even for a redhead, struggled to overcome her disorientation and mental distress. After all, she had experienced the very same vision as her victim. She sipped from the glass her personal guard passed. It appeared to be water, but restored her condition surprisingly quickly.

Since the Countess made no attempt, Grau rose to speak:

"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Cthulhu R'lyeh wgah'nagl fhtagn."

"Cthulhu fhtagn!" the attenders answered him.

The immolation was over.

Needless to say that Sibyl was the first one who left the strongroom. However, after some steps she felt lightheaded again and had to lean against the impressive vault door. When Sawatzki strode passed her, the Countess' gloved hand caressed Sibyl's collarbone in an incidentally, almost unwittingly manner. As swift as this touch was, it caused a cold fire to run down the Nightbringer's spine.

~

Loyal to the House

Balogh László considered the old counting room his own. Here he used to brief his fellow Nightbringers, and here he stowed his equipment. Everything except of his weapons, for they lay in the armoury -- House policy. Only Askirtay on watch were allowed to bear arms within the building. After the ceremony one of them had informed him about the delivery, and the gaunt Hungarian had sent for Sibyl.

When the black-haired girl entered, he was already scrabbling about in Suydam's personal belongings, expelling blue fume. Sibyl reckoned that the greatest benefit László gained from following the Great Olds was risklessly smoking two packs a day. At least he was sensible enough to put his cigarette out when she arrived.

"Good morning, gorgeous," the tall, middle-aged man greeted.

"Morning."

Sibyl still looked somewhat off-colour, and the menthol flavour was evident around here. She had brushed her teeth very thoroughly -- after retching some more, that was.

"Feeling better?"

She shrugged her shoulders, unwilling to go into details.

"It is safe to say that the Doktor wasn't amused by my performance in the vault?"

"I told him you couldn't tolerate the herbals."

"It was how that girl—"

"She was doomed already. Touched from beyond."

"Hmm," she only uttered, then turned her attention demonstratively to the items on the long, waist-height table. "Suydam's stuff?"

"Your subcontractors left it at the gate."

"Mine?" Sibyl bristled. "Surely not. That ghoul folk is all your business."

"But the leader is always so eager to serve you. Tibór, I mean."

"You gave it a name?! That's sick!"

With a knowing smile László chose a leather-bound notebook. Its worn surface sported fresh, uneven imprints.

"Are these from teeth?"

"Well, some of the items had suffered during the transport," he informed.

"They tried to eat it!"

"You have to be lenient towards them," he bantered her. Noticing her sour face from the corners of his eyes, he decided to top it off: "I especially fancy that one wearing the mummified crow as a hat."

Sibyl groaned. It was no big secret that she hated ghouls with every fibre of her being, no matter how useful for the House some of them were, or how funny their hats might be.

The tall Hungarian opened the book at a random page and went through the lines in silence.

"Hey, me too!" Sibyl whined.

László read aloud:

"'I think I saw the inner city at the two magnetic poles. I shall go to those poles when the earth is cleared off, if I can't break through with the Dho-Hna formula when I commit it.' "

"Now I am really thinking I've done the world a favour by taking that wacko out."

"I reckon that our good Doktor knows what Suydam was talking about." The male Nightbringer flipped through the pages. "Last entry: 'I am pleased with my hosts' choice. Indeed my body shall be found in yonder mortuary the night after the Inviting.' "

"I don't think so..."

"However," László closed the notebook, "it may be of interest to see who will appear in said mortuary to hold wake."

He put the book aside to show it to Grau later, then went through the rest of Suydam's belongings. A wallet, a pocket watch, keys, some more documents of lesser importance.

"László?"

"Hmm?"

Sibyl leant forwards, rested her underarms on the table and her chin on her underarms.

"That Countess -- don't you think she is a bit...weird? Not the ritual part. I can imagine how terribly it tells on her. I mean: weird towards me."

He did not turn his haggard face away from the papers he was studying.

"Did you see her car?"

"Glimpsed it."

"During a closer observation, my dear, you will notice that it is right-hand drive."

"So?"

He managed to keep his grave expression: "This feature is welcomed by the Countess insofar as she likes to drive on the wrong side of the road."

"Huh?" Sibyl furrowed her brows, then her eyes grew wide with shocked understanding. "Oh, that's—! How gross! You mean, she..."

"She may deify the Outers and Old Ones, but in her spare time she worships Sappho."

"That's disgusting!"

"Yes, I cannot find words to express my revulsion..."

Sibyl frowned at him. She couldn't see anything comical about it. Men might be basking in the myth of latent lesbian tendencies inherent in all females. But as far as she was concerned, the thought of same-sex intercourse made her almost physically sick.

Do they use the term "homophobic" on women? I hope so...!

The girl pushed herself up and away from the table. It was time to call it a night. If László and the Doktor concocted something about the mortuary, she would certainly be the first -- third -- to know.

"It is now half past three -- I better get some sleep."

"Do so, little one. You are still not looking too good."

Sibyl was about to leave, but hesitated and turned to him again.

"Thanks for backing me up."

"Thanks for puking down my trousers."

~

Halfway to her room Sibyl stopped in the dim corridor.

My coat. Damn!

She turned and jogged up the staircases to the top floor. Surely Grau was still in his office, waiting for László's report. On this opportunity she would also find out whether the Doktor was still a little bit cross with her.

Sibyl was about to knock at his office when she heard voices inside. She almost jumped back as the door opened and Sawatzki appeared in the frame. Grau, who stood behind her and had opened the door for the Countess, looked at his protégé in mild surprise.

"Sibyl?"

"I left my coat..."

"Of course!"

He disappeared to catch it, and for the first time Sibyl was confronted with the young Countess alone. The redhead seemed particularly amused by Sibyl's initial reaction.

"I didn't mean to startle you."

"Uh...well, you haven't."

Oh dear, that was quick at repartee.

Mercifully, Grau reappeared with her coat and holster. Sibyl took them, thanked him and wished a good night to both. However, the Countess was not going to let her off that easily.

"It has been long since I was here the last time, Doktor Grau. Maybe preili Sibyl can guide me to my room?"

"Certainly, Countess. Sibyl, would you please escort our guest to her quarters."

Crap.

~

The guest quarters lay one storage below, and never had the way to them felt so long. The two young women did not talk, but Sibyl felt the redhead's strange eyes burning on her. Sawatzki seemed a bit tipsy, presumably she and the Doktor had celebrate their reunion with some little cordials.

"Perhaps I should not say that," the Countess suddenly spoke, "but Doktor Grau is full of praise about you."

Sibyl wasn't exactly delighted to be topic of their late night talk. Especially not since she had a suspicion as to who had the conversation turned on her.

"I am but one of many serving the House."

"So am I," came the redhead's reply. "What is the name of your family?"

She told her.

"An honourable family," the Countess knew. "Loyal to the House for centuries."

Sibyl opened the door to Sawatzki's room and stepped back, indicating that she had attended her duty.

"I am sure that you will find everything to your complete satisfaction. Good night, Countess."

"Preili Sibyl, I almost forgot to give you something back..."

Smirking, she raised her hand to the girl in black. Dangling from her index finger was the set of handcuffs. Sibyl's face turned fire-engine red. With a quick move she snatched the nickel bonds and stuffed them into her holster.

Sawatzki came closer, and Sibyl noticed the distinctive smell of absinthe. She had to raise her head to keep eye contact, for the redhead was considerably taller than her.

"We should really go to bed -- ('Not good!') -- to our beds, Countess."

Something sparkled in Sawatzki's clear eyes the very moment before she pushed forwards in an attempt to kiss the girl. Disgusted, Sibyl recoiled from her, and the Countess seized her flanks. With astonishing quickness Sybil freed herself, grabbed Sawatzki's right wrist and twisted her arm straight up. The pain racing up her shoulder forced Sawatzki to bend over.

"How dare you, wench...!" she screeched. "Let go!"

In this position she saw Sibyl reaching down with her free hand. She touched her boot leg, but realised that whatever she was seeking wasn't there. So she just clutched the red mane of her captive and pulled her head back sharply.

"You better not try that stunt again! I'm none of your depraved bedwarmers."

Sibyl pushed her away. Sawatzki steadied herself at the wall, rubbing her sore shoulder.

"Playing hard-to-get, huh?!"

Sibyl replied something under her breath as she grabbed her coat from where she had dropped it, and marched down the corridor.

The Countess staggered into her room and slammed the door shut. Until this attack she had been just playfully intrigued by Sibyl, but now that frigid bitch was in for it.

She would hear the wench scream under her touch -- if not from pleasure, then from pain.

~

Too bad her blade was locked away; it would have come in handy. Of course Sybil had not intended to injure the redhead, yet a honed edge had such a distinctive way to underline one's standpoint. The situation might have got out of control, but at least the fire cunt would keep off her now.

For the first time in twenty-two demanding hours Sybil closed her eyes for sleep. Secretly she feared dreaming about the immolation, but the dream that made her wake up screaming was of different nature. She would not remember its content, but the feeling of nameless horror would stay with her long after.

~