We had arrived in the fishman cult room unobserved, for the monsters were absorbed in their diabolical ceremony. In a short moment, the waters of the great pool stirred, and a colossal beast arose: Something like a bipedal eel, a fish-man-demon of immense proportions, matching the golden statues of the altar. The chanting increased in volume as the beast strode from the water and sat his obscene bulk upon the golden altar. It was the fish-god’s chair.
Our stunned amazement was broken by Police Sgt. Willis, whose military rifle thundered to life. His blasts ripped the demon’s eyes apart, sending it into a frenzy. The others of our group produced weapons as well, and I pulled Willis’s pistol from his hip holster for my own use. I think I acquitted myself well, considering that I have almost no firearms experience. I killed one of the fishmen, and wounded two others. The photographer used his large photographic apparatus to blind the fishmen with flashes, and I think that had he not done so, we may have suffered greatly. As it was, we slaughtered the mutants as they closed in on us.
As we fought, the great fish demon struck the three captive girls with its tail, killing two of them. It then vanished back into the water.
After a hail of gunfire, the fishmen were dead. The one surviving girl was beside herself with fear and babbling incoherently. After a brief talk, it was agreed that the doctor and I would accompany her quickly back to the sunlit world. The rest would hurry down another tunnel, seeking the rest of the missing girls.
The doctor and I fled with the girl we had rescued back through the dank tunnels. We had come a long way through these menacing sewers, and the way back was sure to take at least an hour. It seemed to go on forever, and we hoped to encounter other rescuers.
Suddenly, our hopes seemed bourne out, as we spotted a flashlight ahead of us. We encountered a large man with a light and a gun, hurrying in our direction. We greeted him gladly, but he leveled his gun at us.
(Here the story ends, and Fr. Duddlesworth’s account mysteriously leaves off. How did he present this story? Was he dictating? Who knows? I kindly invite one of the other players from the night to put the ending on the tale, as I was not present. Yet I’ve heard how it ended. If no one else recaps in a few days, I’ll tack it on myself.)
I found this account written in Sharpie on the back of a bloody Frankie Says RELAX t-shirt.
ReplyDeletewe fird and fired n2 the crowd of fishmen but they kept cumming. my .45 almost 2 hot 2 hold. one scrathd me. then they were all ded. girls ded. looked thru caves. found missing girlz... in kukoons, preg with fish-things. shot all them dead and burned place. left, up tunnel back to halfwayhouse. priest ded, doc dead, girl ded.... all shot. by shark i guesss. I cant take it anymore. tell kids im srry.
The tag on the shirt said it belonged to "Randy the Undercover Cop posing as an older street punk to find out about Shark who Randy thought was luring kids into a life of porn and sleaze."
Yes, it was a big tag. But those Frankie shirts were big shirts.
Thanks, Ed! That's what I was looking for.
ReplyDelete