Session 08 (Agent Jude)

The email came through in the evening, I was already half way to Charlie’s place when I got the page.  I turned around and sped back home, booting up the computer to see that my recovery had taken too long.  My team, J-Cell was already in the field.  Something must have gone wrong for A-Cell to be calling me in.  They knew I was still recovering.  I was to fly to Williamsport, Pennsylvania on a red-eye.  There I was to meet with K-Cell.  Fuck, something must have gone wrong; not only me going in, but another cell too. I couldn’t help but wonder if I was expecting to see the bodies of my cell rather than rendering aid in a situation.

Charlie was pissed, this would be a roses and chocolates job for sure. Hearing the words ‘whatever’ from a woman, never a pleasant experience.

The red eye was easy, flying wasn’t the problem, touching down in Williamsport. Waiting, that was the problem, but it didn’t take too long in the airport lounge before I realised I was being watched. Not what I was expecting, a tall, muscular, young African American. Trying not to be noticeably obvious, a little had when we were the only ones in here.

I picked up my bag and made for the washroom, rounding the corner. I dropped my bag beside me as I started to take a piss, under my jacket, my hand gripping my .40 calibre and pointing it at the doorway from under my arm.  The big guy entered. The last time a guy like this came at me, it was with a shotgun in my back.  He entered one of the cubicles, stopping to glance at me first, once inside, he said it, something about a good night to be at the opera.  Who talks like that?

It was clear he was who I was waiting for. I could almost smell Fed on him, judging by his stance, and personal presentation, he didn’t seem like a typical field man, maybe an instructor, not your typical door kicker, but he was big and looked experienced.

He introduced himself as Agent Knight - who was I to ask questions, he seemed legit. It wasn’t like I could ask for ID.

I called Jason as I approached the hire car desk, he was in town. Jason, Jasper and a couple of Friendlies. No Jagger. I wanted to get more info, but all I got was an address.

I hired a car and got to talking with Knight. He seemed like a pretty decent guy, he sounded like he knew what he was talking about. I asked him about his cell - they all seemed to gel well - not like us. Jason, dictator, Jasper and I, the dog’s bodies, Jagger, the medic.  No one really had a great understanding of each other or how to work together properly. This K-Cell seemed OK - at least Knight did. more experience than us, that was obvious, I just didn't know how to read him, he was too quiet, a silent confidence about him, like this was all just a walk in the park.

I pulled up at the address Jason had given me, a hotel, checking in and dumping my bag, Knight did the same in the next room down.  Knocking on the door number Jason had given me, it creaked open to reveal Jason and Jasper, both looking tired and angry.  I asked them what I was doing here, only not as politely as I should have, Jason gave me the run down.

Investigating a house - 1206 Spooner Avenue.  Built in the early 1900’s but something about this house was wrong.  Jason found a book detailing that the occupants had begun rituals and sacrifices in the house, worshiping something known as the ‘Black Man”.  It was the sort of thing I had seen in bad horror movies, some sort of sacrifice is supposed to happen, someone gets cold feet and everyone ends up dead.  I was pretty close, however the house seemed to be what’s killing people, It has been burnt down, but apparently rebuilt by a man with no knowledge of how he came to build it.  The house was controlling people.  Even Jasper stated that when they went inside, they found him drinking 6-month-old coffee with cigarette buds in it, and he didn’t know why.  People had committed suicide in there, killed each other; all manner of evil.

Jason’s instructions were, don’t go in, especially armed. The house would most likely make us shoot each other, or ourselves.  He continued to fill us in on how to stop everything, it wasn’t good, Jason was going to make a sacrifice and cast out whatever was in there.

Great, just what we need, Jason going dark side. Again…

It was decided, Knight and I would find someone who fit the bill of dirt bag. Someone fucked up enough to warrant "taking one for the team". Jason was going to study how to do what he needed to do - Jasper, he looked like shit.  He needed sleep.  I took him aside for a minute before starting any plans with Knight.  Jasper was a wreck, he had been having trouble since he arrived in this town, his words were to the effect of "Don't drink the water". Every person he had run into in Meadowbrook was trouble, rattling off names of people. Brian, Yarrow and something to do with Brian’s mom.  I couldn’t help it - I slapped him on the back and told him that he was supposed to be a professional, shit happens and its our job to make it right. Simple.

I turned to Knight and we entered my room, discussing what we thought was appropriate. He wanted to take the time and find someone deserving of this sacrifice. We were on the same page, however time was against us. 48 hours - that was it.  After a lengthy discussion, we settled on a plan. Pimps were always good for removal - men who controlled women, children and drugs.  We decided to hit the streets, it was still early, only 1am.  All the girls would be working.  We took the car and headed into Williamsport, a good 20 miles from the hotel.  There they were as expected on the street corners and in the alleyways.

We canvassed together, approaching girl after girl, something was off, they weren’t talking. I wasn’t reading something right, something in the back of my mind, Jasper, everyone here is wrong, something is off.  No luck, no luck at all.

It was 3am when the low rider slowly cruised up the street we were on and parked a few meters behind our rental.  The occupants, four Hispanic males, one brandishing a baseball bat, the girls had made a call, we were not welcome.  As the four men got out of the car, they began throwing insults, I returned them in kind, my Spanish taking them by surprise.  They were aggressive, very aggressive, Knight got back in the car as I stumbled around acting drunk.  These were the types we were looking for, if one of them got personal, I could probably take at least two before they knew what hit them. I wasn’t sure about Knight, but he still had that calm expression on his face, intimidating enough, I'd hate to see him angry.

The baseball bad slammed into the window next to Knight’s head on the far side of the car as one of the Hispanics threw a wild hook at my head. Dodging it and tagging him back across the jaw was simple.  It was my peripheral vision that concerned me. Knight was out of the car, on the ground, he had taken a hit to the side of the face. As I threw another jab at my attacker, collecting him in the throat, gunfire rang out. Knight had pulled his piece and fired.

Everyone flinched, the Hispanics running back to their car. I pulled my Glock. Shit! This is my service weapon - my registered weapon.

The man in the front seat was reaching for something. Within seconds I was looking at a shiny revolver being raised and the burst of muzzle flash as he fired it. I fired once in return, my shot hitting the windshield just below the roof. Too high.  I fired again and the car began to pull into the road, making a b-line for Knight. Again my shot went wide, hitting the side mirror.  Fuck, what is wrong with me?

Knight wasn't having much luck either, despite his controlled breathing, stance and general professionalism in the situation, shots fired to no effect, as the car began thundering towards him.  Knight calmly stepped back out of the way, up onto the sidewalk, as the car sideswiped our vehicle and sped off. I took one more shot at the rear tyre, squeezing the trigger. I saw the ricochet off the chrome bumper. Jasper was right. This place is off.

The sound of sirens began to echo in the distance. I panicked. Shells! Pick up the brass.  I scrambled to collect our spent shell casings, three of mine and four of Knight’s, Government issue, .40cal, Glock 22.  I jumped into the driver’s seat and took off - it didn’t matter where we were going, just away from here.  We got back to the hotel, enough time for Knight to throw some ice on his face, he was clearly annoyed, he had suffered the same feelings, I could see he knew he should have done more at the time. I knocked on Jasper’s door, he was dozing, answering the door with a vacant look. I explained that he was right, this town is strange, we needed to go, a third man is always better. We also needed the bag of goodies.

I wrapped my personal stuff up again, placing it in the trunk of Jason’s car, the bag of guns collected from O-Cell and green boxes was here, Jason had brought it.  I knew what I wanted, Agent Oliver’s Colt Python, that will do, plus the trusty Glock 17, however the Python was going to be the main stay, no brass to pick up.

Armed and feeling a little better, Knight and Jasper climbed into the backseat, of the car, the front window shattered by the baseball bat.  I drove us back to the neighbourhood, it was 4am, everything was wrapping up.  Perfect timing for us to see a man slapping women before getting in a car and driving away, that was our guy.

Arriving at his house, we waited some 20 minutes before we decided to enter, hoods on, gloves, breach and extract, simple, Jasper and I in first, Knight on backup.  Jasper did the honours, kicking the door clean off the hinges, I turned right into a living area as Jasper made his way through the foyer of the two story house.  I ducked a swinging chair from a screaming, semi naked woman only to twist my elbow at her jaw, the short, fast jab landing perfectly, knocking her out cold.  From further in the house, I heard Jasper grunt. His favorite thing was there - a dog.  I cleared the room and turned back to the foyer to see Knight run past me low and fast, almost military in technique, I followed him to see Jasper on the floor in the kitchen, wrestling a Rottweiler.  Knight letting fly with a boot to it's head, Jasper punching it in the ribs - enough to send it clambering out the back screen door. Movement to the left!

A man on the staircase, a muzzle flash, a bullet punching a hole in the floor next to Jasper’s head. We all moved to cover, Jasper rolling out of sight of the stairs, Knight and I taking up positions where we could keep a line of sight - a second shot as Jasper called out for the man to surrender or the girl dies. Undeterred - a third shot.  I saw him, every shot exposing his shoulder, chest and thigh.  I squeezed the trigger of the Python, the 357 slamming into the mans chest, sending him backwards, bouncing off the wall.  No one hesitated, we all stormed the stairs, Jasper leaping over the man and clearing the rooms upstairs concealing two more naked women.

Knight disarmed the man quickly as I applied pressure to his chest wound. Fuck! I had been aiming for the shoulder!

Clean entry and exit wound, no bone, no obvious organ damage. How the hell did I hit him and miss everything vital?  Knight ran down the stairs and into the kitchen, returning with towels and cloth to apply pressure.  I called to Jasper to extract, the three of us hauling the babbling and bloody man out to the car, the neighborhood erupting around us.

As we sped off, Jasper was doing his best to interrogate the man but it was pointless. He offered us anything for a doctor - girls, drugs, guns, anything, it was purely survival motivated.  The tattoos on his chest and arms telling a similar story, this was a small fish, an evil fish in a small pond. Small pond Williamsport, but even a small fish can be terrifying.  He would have to do, if we could keep him alive for 24 hours.

Knight taped the man’s hands, feet and mouth. We shuffled him into my hotel room bathroom, dumping him in the bathtub, slicing off his clothes down to his underwear and wrapping him in towels and blankets. We patched the wound as best we could, packing the exit wound with gauze, taping the entry wound.  He was still trying to scream. I had to do it. I took a few of my pills from my pocket, shoved them in his mouth, gave him a gulp of water, then knocked him out hard with my left hand.

I was done for the night, we all were, the clock struck 5am when we all crashed out, I didn’t want to see anything else for a while, waking at 11am to the sound of Knight entering my room with a bag of greasy breakfast for me, some heart-smart omelette bagel for himself. I was still puzzled by him, he seem to be almost, looking after us, but he was no observer, in the house with the Pimp who currently resided in my bathroom, he was smooth, clean, trained.  More than I could say for half my team.
After a shower I joined Jasper at the entrance to Jason’s room, knocking on the door and entering, he was surrounded by strange and unnatural markings all over the floor, he looked like death.  Well he looked like that anyway, but more than usual. We explained we had his sacrifice, and looked at him for further instruction.

He handed Jasper a list of things he will need to get the job done, everything was collectable from any local hardware shop, leather straps, bootlaces, metal pins, easy.  We were to meet at Spooner Avenue tonight, as Darkness was starting to fall.  We needed cars, my rental was screwed, Knight and I needed new wheels.

We took off to the closest shopping centre, somewhere lots of cars, lots of confusion and lots of space.  Within a short time, we both drove out with old, yet running cars, mine belonging to someone much larger than me, there were more fast food wrappers inside than there was at a truck stop.

1206 Spooner Avenue, Jason laid it all out a block away, Knight and I were on perimeter duty, no one comes close to the house, cops, neighbours, no one, use force to stop them.  Jasper and Jason would enter the house, I would back the car with the pimp in it up to the garage, they would open the garage, take him in, I would return to perimeter and we wait for them to do what needs to be done and come out, Simple.

I pulled my car up to the garage as Knight sat across the street shotgun across his lap, watching closely as Jasper and Jason walked up the concrete bath to the front door, the garage was locked, they had to open it from inside.

They entered quickly to avoid suspicion, I sat patiently, this house was evil, apparently, it was surely going to offer resistance. Seven minutes, nothing, no garage door opening, so noise, just nothing.  I looked out my windscreen to see Knight already opening his door, I was in silent agreement, something was wrong.

I moved along the side of the house towards the front door, sounds of a struggle coming from within.  Fuck, who was killing who?

I called out to Jason with no response, I looked at Knight who clearly didn’t know what to do, both of us conversing with no words, go in, or stand by.  I leaned back and threw by boot into the door causing it to swing open with a crash, peeling back from the door, Knight took point with his shotgun, immediately shining light on the foyer, his finger sliding onto the trigger from the guard, ready to fire.  In front on me, Jason straddling a man I had never seen, bashing his brains in with his bare fists, a bloodied axe on the floor a few feet away, further away, Jasper, blood pooling around him, face down on the carpet.

I couldn’t afford to hesitate, I threw my pistol to Knight and screamed at him not to come in as I ran for Jasper, a large axe wound in his back, his head also sliced open, he was breathing, just.  I knelt on his back with one leg to apply as much pressure as I could to the wound on his back, looking around the dark room, a grabbed at a table cloth covered in stains hanging from a nearby sideboard, wrapping it up and pushing it into the gash in Jaspers back, taking my belt off and wrapping it around his Chest to hold the makeshift bandage in place.

Jasper was groaning, Jason soon stood over me, asking if Jasper was able to continue, to my surprise, he replied, wanting to get up and carry on.  Jason told me to get the man inside, again not hesitating I moved into the kitchen on my way to the garage, as I took my first step on the tiled floor, every hanging pot and pan fell to the tops of the marble counter, causing more noise than a shotgun blast.  I couldn’t stop, this was not good, but I knew I couldn’t stop.  Through the Kitchen to the garage, several old and dust covered pieces of furniture filled the space, along with an old fridge in the corner.  As I reached out for the garage door, the smell of burning meat filled my nostrils, I glanced at the fridge only to be met by the sight of a figure screaming silently as he glowed with electricity, a man being electrocuted to death, his flesh burning from his body, I recoiled slightly, closing my eyes tightly, feeling for the lock of the garage door.  I hit the latch and the door began to roll up, Knight was on the other side, heaving at the rollers to get the door up.  I opened my eyes to find no trace of the burning man, snapping myself out of it, I grabbed the bloodies pimp from the trunk and threw him into the garage, slamming the door behind me.

Knight threw my pistol across the car perfectly finding my hand as he took off to his own sedan across the road, I caught it and placed it on the passenger seat as I started the engine.  Driving back up the road to my position to cover from anyone getting to close.

More waiting, the sky seemed to dim slightly, then brighten, everything seemed to shift for a moment, the glass of my window seemingly taking on a purple tinge for a moment.  Take a pill, take a fucking pill.

Looking down, I pulled my bottle of pills from my pocket, sliding one under my tongue.  As I looked down to replace the cap on the bottle, a car in the rear-view mirror, a black sedan pulling into the driveway of 1206 Spooner Avenue.

I revved my engine, burning a 180 into the bitumen. Knight was on the front lawn, taking a knee and scanning the immediate surrounds with his shotgun, three others surrounding Jason, escorting him into the car from the garage.  I pulled across the driveway as I watched two men get in the back with Jason, the third, the driver glaring at me as I pointed my gun at his face from across the bonnet of my vehicle.  Knight called out a warning to me. Not wanting to back out of the stare down with this new threat, I finally relented and glanced at Knight who not only had the shotgun pointed at me with one arm, but an outstretched open hand also. In the split second it took to return my gaze to the driver, he was already in the car.  Knight was calling to me, calming me down - it was alright - this was K-Cell. Vaguely satisfied, I ran past the car and into the house as Knight moved to shift my car out of the way. I had to find Jasper, I hadn’t seen him come out.

In the main bedroom, the walls covered in ugly mirrors, I found him lying on the floor, breathing shallowly. He was still alive. I picked him up and began to walk him out as I heard a car speed off and Knight entering the house. He set about quickly collecting all of the evidence of what had happened, everything Jason had used, bagging it up and throwing it in his car before assisting me with Jasper.  Despite first ignoring Jasper, Knight knew the protocols, secure all the evidence first, he was slick.

I parted ways with Knight shortly after, he was to go and meet with his cell and Jason. I asked him for the professional courtesy of giving me an update, to which he agreed, it was clear he was a fed, his training, calmness under fire, even the way he moved, I don't know what it was, but we worked well, better than I expected.

I threw Jasper into the back of Jason’s car, there was no time, I had to dump him at a hospital, no ID’s, nothing, just a wounded man.  I sent a text to Jason, if he was to ever get it, his car would be parked at the storage units in Springfield, keys under the tyre well.

I dropped Jasper off at the closest hospital, disappearing out the door as the nurses and doctors took him away.  The drive took forever. I took another pill. What had happened in there? Nothing good. I’m just glad I wasn’t in that house any longer than I had to be.

I wonder if Charlie preferred red or white roses, chocolate or wine? I’ll think of something.

Epilogue Operation Iago (Agent Jason)

May 12th 1996, 11:39am

With a grunt Jason sat up on the lounge. Even though it was summer, it was chilly in the hunting lodge in White Mountain National Forest. As he got up, he stumbled over a few empty bottles and cursed. He looked around for his cane, finally finding it under the lounge. He limped over to the table, grabbed his cigarettes and lighter and hobbled over to the kitchen where he made coffee. 
He sniffed, smelling something off. It took him a moment to find the source, as the plates were stacked quite high in the sink. He didn't even remember leaving half a glass of milk in there, but, by the smell of it, it had been there for a while.
Annoyed by it, he limped towards the front porch, spilling coffee over his fingers as he picked up a bottle of Scotch along the way.
Sunlight, filtered through the dense canopy, greeted him as he opened the door to the lodge. He turned round, squinting to make out the time on his grandfathers clock inside. Almost noon. He took a deep breath, noticing the mess inside. Food, overflowing ashtrays, empty bottles, dirty clothes... a good thing his old man didn't visit the lodge much lately...
He put the cups on the oak table and sat down, hooking his cane over the back of a chair.

"I'm out of milk..."

Norman looked up from his chair, where he was cleaning a shotgun. On the table was a hunting rifle, taken apart. It looked like he was getting some of the parts mixed up, but Jason knew Norman would be able to easily separate the parts later on and get everything back in working order without any issues.

"That's OK, pal, I have mine like your soul. Black as pitch and bitter."

On the other side of the table, Nancy was leaning back, her head against the logs of the lodge. She had her eyes closed and seemed to be listening to the sound of the birds. She turned and smiled as he put her cup in front of her, looking at his stained singlet.

"You OK, Jason?"

"No." He sat down, unscrewing the top of the bottle, pouring a generous amount into his coffee. He raised an eyebrow at Nancy, who shook her head. "Norman? You want some?"

"Never before lunchtime"

Jason took a sip from the mug, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I can't shake it. It fucked me up. I feel empty. Drained. Like a sponge squeezed out and left in the sun. I just..."

He stopped and started to sob uncontrollably , his frame shaking.

"Fucking Christ, bawling like a fucking toddler. Unbelievable!" Norman threw the shotgun onto the table in front of Jason as he got up, chucking a handful of shells into Jason's face. "Here you go, pal, that will sort it all out. No more worries. No more Bad Men scaring you or sucking you empty or whatever the fuck bothers you today. No wonder the Group is in a sorry state. If this is all they have to work with..." 

Nancy moved over and put her arm around Jason's shoulders, sitting with him in silence. After a few minutes Jason took a deep breath, reached for the bottle and took a decent swig.

"It's going to be the end of me. I realize this now. There is no way we can ever win this fight. I saw that when i looked into the hood of the Black Man. I had done the ritual by the book, every step of the way. Jasper couldn't take it when He appeared. So I just poured myself into it, to dismiss him. And it just laughed. Like it didn't mean anything..."

He stopped for a moment, looking out into the forest. Norman stood with his back to him, smoking.


"I don't know what I expected. Fear? Panic? Anger? At most, it was annoyed. Annoyed when I refused to sign the Black Book. But it... it just let me finish the ritual. It just stood there, holding out its ebony matte hands, warning me not to do it. But it never tried to stop me, or attack me. And when I said the last words. It just laughed. Like it knew something I didn't." 

He let out a big sigh.

"Perhaps it knew someone else would summon him again, blinded by whatever promises or power they'd receive by doing so. Knowing that next time we wouldn't be there to stop it. Knowing it had an eternity of time..." 

He looked at Nancy, sitting there with that typical sad look on her face. 

"It's all we can do, Jason. We search it, fight it and try to stop it. Agents get killed. Agents kill themselves. But if we don't do this, who will?"

"I know, Nancy. It's all I can think about. Clearing my head, and getting back into it. It's all that matters. I don't give a shit about my job anymore. The only thing that matters is the next Opera. And the one after that. And the one after that. And so on. But first I need some time. Recover. Regain my strength. So I don't end up like Jasper or Jagger. I'll be alright if I just have a few more days."

Norman lit a second cigarette and handed it to Jason.

"Doubt it, pal... Now, tell me about that Agent Banshee and your punch-up... From what I heard it was a sight to see. Retard versus cripple, mano a mano, to the death!"

Jason whinced and finished his coffee, got up and headed to the door. He stopped for a moment before going in.

"You've heard the saying 'The darker the night, the brighter the stars'? I wonder if Dostoyevski ever considered when he wrote it that some... malevolent being...  might actually be looking down upon us from between them... Doesn't seem so hopeful and positive anymore, does it?"

He closed the door behind him, leaving them outside.

Operation IAGO De-brief

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From:          <JASON> 
Sent:          Thursday, March 21, 1996 6:15AM
To:            <A-CELL>
Subject:       Operation Iago Debriefing

Debriefing Operation Iago, J-Cell, March 14th to 18th 1996

Released by K-cell.
Operation Iago successful. Threat neutralized.
Agent Jasper in bad shape. Severely wounded and mentally unstable. Refer to Agent Jude for status on Jasper, as they were together when K-cell took me away.

Need to disappear from the grid for a while. Sort myself out.
Will not be able to be contacted until further notice.

Jason

DELETE this message after reading.
<PATH REDACTED>

Session 08 (Agent Jason)

Monday, 18th March 1996, 11:03pm

“Mind your head…” 

One of the guys with the balaclavas pushed Jason roughly into the back of the car. It stank of cigarettes and old, greasy food. As soon as Jason had gotten in, the other guy jumped into the car next to him, poking the barrel of a pistol into his ribs. Two more masked guys entered the front of the car. As the driver was about to pull out, another car swerved and pulled into the driveway, boxing them in.

Jude.

He jumped out of the car, gun raised, aiming at the two people in the front.

“Just fucking ram him, Klaus”, the guy next to Jason said. Klaus, behind the wheel didn’t say anything.

He could see Knight walk up to Jude, clearly trying to explain something, while showing his hands. It took a few second, but Jude stood down, nodding to Knight. With a final look at the car, Jude got back behind the wheel and removed his own vehicle.

As the dark blue sedan pulled out of the driveway of 1206 Spooner Avenue, the three men removed their balaclavas. Jason didn’t pay them much attention. He sat slumped, staring at his blood and gore crusted hands. They were shaking. Strange… that had never happened to him before.

The guy behind the wheel looked in the rear-view mirror

“It’s going to be ok, Agent Jason” 

He looked to be in his 40s, a lean face with blue eyes.

“Just sit back and enjoy the ride, old-timer. And avoid sudden movements, they make me nervous…”

Jason turned his head sideways to have a look at the guy who was holding the gun that was painfully jabbing his ribs.  Big guy, bearded, probably early to mid-thirties. Jason caught a glimpse of the guy’s eyes as they passed a petrol station. He had seen that look before. When he looked in the mirror…

The third guy, sitting in the passenger seat up front, shoved a bag in between them.

“Donut?”

Jason looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. Blood and tissue was crusted on them. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was just so tired…

Monday, 18th March 1996, 08:25pm

They had opened the door and headed straight forward. Jude and Knight, back-up sent by A-cell, were waiting at the garage to bring the guy in. Jason had told them to stay outside, as it had been clear before that the house did play tricks on anyone entered it, enough to drive one insane and kill himself. That’s why they both had plugged their ears and left any weapons behind. Last thing he needed was Jasper getting spooked and shoot him in the back.

They had made it about 4 meters into the house when he felt, rather than heard, a loud thump, and saw the beam of Jasper’s flashlight go wild, swaying wildly back and forth, and then spinning. He turned just in time to see Jasper hit the ground on one knee, clawing at his back. In the blink of an eye, Jason saw the large fresh bloodstains sprayed around Jasper’s feet. In the fraction of a second that it took him to take it all in, his light reflected on the head of a log-splitter that came down, this time hitting his cell mate in the shoulder, right next to his head.

Time stopped. The first thing he thought of, as Jasper’s body slowly tipped sideways and hit the floorboards, was that he couldn’t do this without him. The ritual clearly stated two had to invoke and summon the Black Man. Second, he realized he was unarmed against something wielding a large log-splitter with ease. Then his flashlight lit up the one wielding it. Yarrow… Fucking Yarrow!

Time returned to normal and Jason bodyslammed the Friendly (…) to the ground. They both went down, and rolled into furniture, pulling down sheets and boxes around them. His flashlight was gone, and it was hard to see what was going on, as the only light came from two flashlights that were rolling across the floor now. He got back up, as quick as he could, but Yarrow was quicker. The axe hit the wood only inches from Jason’s head. He kicked at Yarrow’s leg, resulting in a grunt, while he grabbed the handle of Yarrow’s weapon. They both pulled at it, wrestling for control of the only weapon in reach. Jason took it, only to lose his grip on the blood-slick handle. They rolled away from each other, and got up, Yarrow moving too fast for a guy his size.

Jason felt a massive blow hitting his side and could feel at least two ribs cracking. Yarrow had hit him, but his aim had been bad, and the weapon had connected with the side, rather than with the sharp edge. Jason dropped down, pulling Yarrow off balance, forcing him down on the ground with him.

The fight turned into a vicious brawl. Jason was gouging Yarrow’s eyes, while he tried to strangle Jason by the throat, clawing at the skin. He could feel one of Yarrow’s eyes pop and pressed his thumb deeper. It was clear this wasn’t going to be enough to stop the academic. Jason had seen the man’s eyes a few seconds before as the beam lit him up. This wasn’t Yarrow anymore. Something else was in control of him now.

He kneed him hard in the groin and reached out for the log-splitter. This time he had the drop on the madman, and he was able to swing the weapon hard, making it crash into the bulk of the man’s torso. This would have killed any man, but as he pulled himself up on the edge of the counter, he could see the body move again. He pulled the axe out of Yarrows chest, making a sucking sound as it left a gaping wound that exposed crushed organs, and he swung it at the things head. Jason felt the slick handle slip again as the back of the axe-head crashed into Yarrow’s face, shattering teeth and cartilage. The weapon spun away, coming to a standstill under a sideboard.

Jason dropped himself onto Yarrow, straddling him as he landed blow after blow onto the man’s battered head. He could feel his fists sinking into the pulped face, shattered bone cutting his knuckles, but he kept going, pounding his fists deeper and deeper  

Suddenly light fell into the room. As he looked sideways he saw Jude, weapon drawn, and Knight, scanning the room over the barrel of a shotgun. Only then he realized he had been calling for Jude all along. He reached up, fumbling to remove one of the earplugs with blood and gore covered fingertips. He wiped the blood out of his eyes, looking at Knight and pointed at Jasper.

“Do you have medical training?”

Knight shook his head, scanning for other movement in the room.

“Jude, patch him up. I need him alive for another two hours.”

Monday, 18th March 1996, 11:54pm

“Wake up”

Jason felt a sharp pain as the barrel of the gun was rammed into his broken ribs and let out a groan.

“Ease up, Krobar. Help him into the barn.” Klaus turned the engine off and got out of the car, heading towards the door of the abandoned barn.

The big bearded guy got out and walked around the car, opening Jason’s door.

“Fuck this, Klaus. Let me just put a bullet into Agent Jerry Atric’s skull and we can all go home.” He grinned at Jason “Need a hand getting out, old man?” 

Jason ignored him and gritted his teeth as he pulled himself out of the car. He followed Klaus into the barn and sat down on wooden crate. Krobar and the other guy were making noise outside, removing items from the boot of the car. The shabby and overweight agent with the greasy hair, addressed by Krobar as Kodiak, came in with 2 large collapsible water containers. Krobar dragged a few go-bags in, as well as a couple of six packs. He dumped it all on the floor and dragged a few chairs out of the shadows towards the centre of the barn, where Klaus lit a couple of camping lanterns.

“Take a seat, Agent Jason. Kodiak, bring some water so he can clean himself up.”

Jason slowly scrubbed his hands, which were still shaking, then washed his face, still covered in blood from his fight with Yarrow.

He got up and took his shirt off.

“I’ll need a first aid kit”.

Klaus nodded to Krobar, who left the building, returning a few minutes later with a kit. Without saying anything, he got to work on Jason, bandaging his ribs, and cleaning the deep scratches on his throat. When he finished, Jason sat down and looked at Klaus.

“Why don’t you start from the beginning, Jason?”

Jason told him in broad lines about the issue with the house, the effect it had on people and how he had found the diary, and what it contained. He discussed the fact that from what his cell had investigated, only the performance of this ritual seemed like a permanent way to stop the threat. HE told them he had called A-Cell, and given them that information, and that they had called back and told him to eliminate the threat.

At that stage, Agent Knight stepped through the door, joining the other. Jason continued, telling them Friendlies had been involved who were at that stage sent away, leaving only himself and Agent Jasper. He had called for back-up, which was sent in the form of Jude and, nodding at the Agent, Knight.

“A-cell had given me 48 hours to finish the Op, so I sent Jude and Knight out to arrange a body, as the ritual required a human sacrifice.” He stopped for a second and looked at the Agent.

“I left them with strict instructions not to disturb me, as I needed the rest to prepare for studying the ritual. The next morning, I contacted them and was informed they had done their part. I started to go through the text and study it, which was harder than expected.”

Jason lit a cigarette

“It just didn’t make sense. There was no way this would work, it was just …” He shook his head “Gibberish…”

He took a deep breath.

“I took a break and started all over, and somehow, slowly things seemed to make more sense. I can’t explain it. It’s like a puzzle. You look at it and can’t make out what piece should go where, and all of the sudden, you see what you didn’t see before. Anyway. I finished studying the ritual, gathered the necessary equipment, and told the others to get ready by nightfall.”

Knight handed a small parcel over to Klaus. He opened it, and pulled out a bloodied bronze knife and bowl.

Jason nodded. “That’s it, those items were needed for the dismissal.”

“We went back and I instructed Jude and Knight to stay outside, Jasper and myself would go in and open the garage to get the body inside. We had witnessed the effect on people who went inside, and I needed them to be a clear-minded as possible. When we went in, there were… complications. A friendly involved in the Op had gone back inside and was taken over by whatever force present there. Jasper was wounded, the threat neutralized.”

Knight leaned over to Klaus, whispering something. Jason ignored it and continued.

“Time was of the essence. I told Jude to get the body inside, before more damage was done. Jasper was patched up, as I needed his assistance in the ritual. It clearly stated two people had to do it and pay ‘the price’.”

He stopped for a moment.

“We dragged the body to the bedroom. I started the preparation, drawing the circle and marking the symbols. Jasper lit the candles. There was an attempt of the Force to stop us, but that didn’t work. I recited the words, over and over again, Jasper repeating them as instructed. It didn’t work. We started over again and noticed a marked difference. It became colder inside, and there were faint noises. At the right moment, I made the sacrifice. And that’s when He appeared.”

He lit another cigarette.

“L’Uomo Nero. The Black Man. Like a ball of shadow, stretching out until is form filled the room. A presence cloaked in black. Holding a black Book. I had read in the ritual that this is what needed to be done. You summon him, he offers a book, and you sign your name in it and he’ll give you whatever you ask for. The sight of him broke something in Jasper. He lost control and fell down. This was a problem, as there needed to be two of us, to dismiss this entity. I decided to go ahead and do it by myself, there was no time to do anything else. I spoke the words and made the signs to break whatever hold this Thing had over the house or whomever died in here. It told me to stop, warned me not to continue, cursed me. I finished the ritual, and it disappeared. I could feel some kind of weight being taken of the house. I’m sure what I did succeeded.”

He looked at the other Agents.

“That’s when you burst in. I take it you removed all traces and bodies. I started to erase the patterns on the floor, but you interrupted me. The house might need observation, or you can try and burn it down, it didn’t work before. Perhaps, if this Presence is gone now, it will burn?”

“So… I feel… like a grapefruit, after it’s been juiced. There’s something missing. Something’s gone inside. You do what you need to do. I don’t give a shit.”

Klaus looked at his notes, leaning against a wall. He left after a while, pulling a mobile out of one of his pockets.

Jason nodded to Kodiak

“Think I could get one of those beers?”

With a sigh, the guy got up and walked over to the six-packs, handing a beer to Krobar and Jason, taking two for himself. They drank in silence, until Klaus returned a few minutes later.

“We’re keeping you under observation for a few days. I’ll leave tomorrow, but Krobar and Kodiak will stay here to make sure there are no issues with you.”

“Fucking hell, Klaus, I’m not doing baby-sit duty again! Christ, you always saddle me up with this shit!”

“48 hours, Krobar, then you let him go and make yourself scarce”

Jason sat on the chair, shoulders sagged. Thinking about what had happened. What had been sacrificed. All he could see what his ex-wife, Sam’s face.

Krobar came back into view, a Mossberg on his shoulder, smoking a fat joint, which he passed to Kodiak, and turned towards Jason, pointing the barrel at him.

Jason ignored him, lowered himself onto the floor and curled up in foetal position, and closed his eyes.

Agent KODIAK

Agent Kodiak
Age: Late 30s
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Light Brown
Height: 180cm
Weight 120kg

Description: Unkempt. Overweight. Incompetent? Sometimes it's easier to hide in full view.
Dismissed at first glance this shabby small town detective has the highest clearance rate in the county. Probably get a promotion the day he commits to shaving and tucking in his shirt. That and showing up on time.
He might wear his pistol like an afterthought, but it's clean and well used.
Agent KODIAK was killed during Operation ACHILLES in the car park of  Truman Memorial High School, Lafontaine, in an explosion, while trying to dispose of Green Box evidence.

Agent KNIGHT

AGENT KNIGHT

Age:  Mid 30's

Eyes:  Brown

Hair:  Black

Height:  194cm

Weight:  106kg

Description:
At first glance Lincoln is an intimidating large black man. He counters the otherwise intimidating exterior with a smile and welcoming attitude that comes across as casual and natural. He is beyond physically fit due to a training regime that keeps him in peak condition. His father was killed in combat and he is dedicated to not letting that same fate befall himself, but don’t make the mistake of thinking he is a coward, he is quite the opposite and believes that mental and physical preparation is a key component to victory.

Lincoln is commonly referred to as “a capable professional” and “a good reliable man” by his peers and those he has helping through his career. His motivation is to fulfil a simple mantra to take the righteous path for the greater good which he derived from the words of his aging grandfather that resonate in his mind every day.

"Don't end up like me, go and make a change in this horrible world"

Agent KLAUS

Agent Klaus
Age: mid 40s
Eyes: Light Blue
Hair: Dark Grey
Height: 192cm
Weight: 85-90 kg

Description:  Tall and lean, constantly leaning against walls, door frames and furniture, with a somewhat passive demeanor. Often wears loose fitting clothing, to disguise his lean physique, as well as the numerous arms he never seems to be without.
An easy going individual yet his attention always seems to be on the unseen, constantly scanning for anything unfamiliar.
Klaus’s background although never understood in its entirety, has been pieced together over the years, his time working for the government landing him in many situations where anonymity has been his only friend.
It was clear that he was paranoid, his constant muttering to himself, when overheard had revealed talk of ghosts and beyond, yet when it came to a job, he was always on point.

Agent KROBAR

Agent Krobar
Age: mid 30s
Eyes: Green
Hair: Brown stubble or shaved
Height: 183cm
Weight: 100-105 kg

Description:
Tall, heavyset and muscular.
Penetrating stare and body language that comes accross as very threatening. Often makes people feel uncomfortable.

Is never seen without scabs healing somewhere, most of the time on his knuckles and face.
Once people get to know him, they give very conflicting opinions on him. Some think he's very reliable and couldn't wish for a better guy to have next to them, other claim he's a loose cannon and does not deal well at all with authority.
On one thing they all agree: the guy's intense.

Session 07 (Agent Jason)

Sunday, 17^th March 1996, 7pm

Jason pocketed the Agency cellphone and lit a cigarette. He inhaled deeply as he looked sideways to where the van was parked. Jasper was there, taking a nap in the back of the van, while Yarrow and Sinclair were having a chat. Elizabeth was standing aside a bit, clearly not fully at ease. Unlike Yarrow, she had done well. Exceedingly well. She had done her homework on the info Jason had given her and returned with intel that they could act upon. To be fair, her help had led him to the book, and as far as he could tell it was the most helpful information they had found so far.

He watched the Friendlies, as the wind picked up a bit and blew some debris across the parking lot. An old newspaper made a rustling noise as it flew towards him like a crippled bird. He checked the phone. No messages. Buttoning up his coat, he wandered over to the abandoned little playground. Just a few swings, a slide and a roundabout that make creaking noises as it moved in the wind.

It was dark now, and the only light was a flickering streetlamp at the entrance to the car park. He lit another cigarette, closed his eyes and went over the recent developments. When that piano had stopped, the parameters had changed altogether.

Friday, 15^th March 1996, near Midnight

He whispered to Jasper 
“Whatever gets done here, one of us needs to stay outside, to keep a clear head, as the house fucks around with your mind. And it must be one of us, rather than one of them.” 

He tilted his head to Yarrow and Sinclair behind them. Jasper nodded and looked back inside. Jason put his hand on Jasper’s shoulder.
“You have the lead on entry here, it’s your call to continue or abort.”

Jasper nodded and climbed through the window. Jason had the impression Jasper felt forced, like he didn’t want to lose face. Perhaps because of Yarrow and Sinclair?

Jason was about to climb in too, when he felt the window coming down. He frowned and pushed back. As he did, there seemed to be a larger force pushing the window down and it took all his strength to stop it from closing or breaking his hand. He whispered Jasper’s name, who noticed what was going on and made a hasty retreat. Back outside, they heard a phone calling from somewhere inside.

Going over the Rules of Ranging, Jason made a decision. Don’t go in if they expect you. 
He doubted there would be a lot of danger outside the house, intel showed that people killed themselves while inside, so it should be safe to have a look from where they are. 

“Change of plan. Recce only, let’s check the windows on this side of the house. Jasper, you lead. John, Emil, stay behind me.”

As he turned around, he noticed Yarrow talking, describing for the benefit of the mic on the camera what he was seeing. Fucking tourist… no doubt all their faces would show up on the tape at one moment or another.

They made their way to the next window, Jason covering Jasper as he lead the way, then taking a position from where he could have an overview of the garden. He nodded to Yarrow to bring the camera up to the window.

“Jason, can you see a kid in front of you?” hissed Jasper, something in his voice giving away that something was wrong. Jason looked again, not seeing anything.

“All clear”

“Fuck…”

After another few moments of Yarrow and Sinclair trying to get a decent reading on their equipment, they moved on to the next window, this time of the bedroom where Agent Garret had died. Jason kept his mouth shut but had the impression all of the lugging around of equipment might be a waste of time. IF it was registering anything, it was going haywire at the moment. Either the whole til was a heap of bull, or there was too much going on in the vicinity, and as a consequence, making the reading chaotic.

Jasper opened it the same way he had opened the other window and pulled the curtain aside. Once he had checked the room and found it empty, he moved aside slightly so Yarrow and Sinclair could do their thing. They were talking back and forth, spewing a lot of pseudo-scientific stuff, and ended up rolling a coin inside. This got them all excited, disturbed even. From what Sinclair said, the coin had rolled towards the mirror… and through it.

Jason kept an eye on all this. The Friendlies seemed eager, like kids on a school trip that’s about to turn into a disaster. “We don’t know enough to go in”, he muttered as they moved their equipment back to the porch again. Sinclair was insisting on trying something. He wanted to make contact with Garrett. Jason thought it over. He really didn’t want to get Sinclair to go in. The Group still insisted on trying to reel him in as a full-blown Agent. He still hadn’t made his mind up on what kind of review he would give the guy, but that would all be moot if he went in there now and got ripped open from throat to crotch by an “Interdimensional Astral Walker”…

“Ok, John, go in, and we’ll do what you suggested, tie a rope around you. Stay in the Den, so we can see you. If we feel something goes wrong, we’re pulling you out.”

They had opened the door, and John has carefully walked in. He looked around and said something. Jason didn’t clearly hear it, but it sounded like “I’m here, Arthur”. Next thing, the door started closing. They were able to keep it open, and John quickly made his way out. As the door closed, they heard a phone ringing. Enough.

“We’re going. We need more intel before we can do anything here.” 

The rest, even Yarrow, agreed with this. The equipment got loaded back into the van, while some of the others were having a peak through the front windows. He got the others to sit up front while he stayed in the back with the equipment. As soon as they drove off, the first thing he did was to remove the tape from the camera. He needed words with Yarrow.

They made their way back to the hotel, and Jasper ditched the van a street away. As soon as they got to their room, Yarrow hooked the camera up. Jason dug the tape out of his pocket and held it out to him. As Emil tried to take the tape, Jason held on to it, looking him hard in the eye

“This is not a study trip for university, Yarrow. Nothing of what you tape is to be viewed by anyone. You’re here for the benefit of the Group, nothing else. If I catch you sneaking any information in whatever shape or form away from this Opera, you will regret not getting your car breaks fixed last time it was in for maintenance…”

Emil’s eyes widened. “Are you threatening me?”

Jason locked his eyes on him for a few seconds, then let go of the tape. The man didn’t say anything but was clearly shaken. Good. Jason hoped this sorted the Ghostbuster out.

After that he could barely keep his eyes open. Jasper was already snoring, and Sinclair and Yarrow were engrossed by what they saw on the screen. Jason observed Sinclair for a bit. He was hard to form an opinion on. It was clear that he was used to getting his way. He didn’t say much, but Jason felt that Sinclair had issues with the dynamics, probably even with his leadership. Control-freak? Possibly. Or perhaps so confident in his abilities that felt that everyone else was inferior or less able to sort this out. He could relate to that. But the man would have to learn how things worked in the Group. Not a popularity contest, not a fucking democracy. And thinking back on how things were when he started, he thought he was still pretty easy going on the FNGs. Compared to Norman at least… He would have had a ball with these two…

Saturday, 16^th March, 9am

During breakfast they quickly went over who would do what for the rest of the day. Sinclair had received a call from the local police and was supposed to meet them. He wasn’t sure what they wanted, but it would relate to Garrett. Jason sent Jasper off to work on a van, make it look like a Cleaning Service, as well as getting them suitable outfits to fit in as cleaners. If anyone noticed them or the van, they would realize what they were doing inside. And no one wanted to dwell to long on that…

Jason would go to the County Seat with Yarrow and dig in deeper. They parted ways and he rang Elizabeth Tucker, to see if she had been able to find anything. She had located three pieces of furniture, two in Meadowbrook and one in Pittsburg. They agreed to meet the next day, she would take the lead in any talks to the owners, and Jason would be there as her assistant or a magazines photographer.

Jason was able to get Yarrow to part with some money before they went in to the County Seat. The kid behind the counter, Anthony, greeted them, and when introduced, he pointed out they closed at noon. The cash should come in handy in a few hours.

They started digging through the files, looking into the names that Sinclair and Jasper had dug up the previous day. They had done a good job, and it didn’t take long before their search unveiled more information. Around noon, Sinclair contacted them. Apparently, things were not OK. Jasper had been around to Brian’s mum, and back to the garage. People had been scared and they had called the cops. Somewhere, Sinclair’s car had been seen. John had been able to satisfy the cops questions, but it was sloppy. Jason called Jasper, filled him in and told him to stay out of sight, or put on some kind of disguise.

When Sinclair showed up, he was joined by Anthony, who had decided to help out in exchange for a few console games and the promise of more cash, if they were able to find all the information they needed. Around 4pm they felt they had found everything there was to find. They made their way back to the hotel, went for something to eat and compared noted on the way people had ended up being killed in the house. In the end, Jason felt more was to be found on Isabelle Wheeler. She and her husband had built the house, and apparently, she had died of a wasting disease. Not an accident, not a suicide.  After that, anyone buying the house ran a serious risk of being killed in it by… something. A recurring piece of information seemed to be that people killed themselves when they considered themselves "home" or when repairs to the house had been finished. The mirrors in the bedroom were mentioned a few times. Jason would make a point to focus the team's attention on them, when they had a chance. Outside of this information, Jason hoped to find something in the Wheeler furniture. 

Garrett had mentioned it. He never got around to checking it, it seems. And if there was any Wheeler furniture left inside the house, he would already have inspected that already and he would have mentioned something in his notes. A letter. A picture. An inscription. Anything that could shed a light on what was going on here. Because, regardless of the information they had right now, Jason did not feel they had any actionable intelligence.

The others agreed that they would go and visit the house during daytime, when it was safe. Jasper had organized boiler suits and masks, as well as bags to transport any equipment Yarrow needed. They would easily be able to make their way in without drawing any attention. Jasper had spent the day making stencils for the side of the van, even made a Kwik-Kleen logo, with a telephone number underneath it. Jason had passed it on to A-cell, asking if they could have someone answer it, in case locals or cops had any questions.

Sinclair was spending his night in the better hotel, as they thought the cops might keep an eye on him. Or at least check if he had spent the night there. Yarrow would take his room, and all agreed to have an early night.

Jason woke up with a start and grabbed his cellphone. Sinclair.

"What's wrong, John?"

"I just got a call from Yarrow. He's inside the house. But it sounded strange, like Garrett's calls."
"Stay on the line, John"

Jason got up, giving Jasper a nudge while he pulled his hoodie on and stuffed his pistol in the pocket.
Without saying a word Jasper did the same, clearly used to this kind of middle-of-the-night-shenanigans. They went out and  made their way to Yarrow's room. Jason banged on the door. No answer.

"John, I'll call you right back." He hung up and called Yarrow's phone. They could hear it ring inside. He looked at Jasper, and they were about to kick the door in as the phone stopped rining. Jason brought his cellphone back to his ear.

"H-h-hello...?"
"For fucksake, Yarrow, open the door!"

A few moments open, "Banshee" opened the door for them. 
"Everything ok, Yarrow? Why didn't you answer when we knocked on the door?"
Yarrow stared at him with a dazed and confused look, opening his hand to reveal some earplugs dotted with clumps of earwax.

"Christ... keep those out of your ears while you're on a Opera." Jason turned away with a look of disgust. 

He called John back, as he and Jasper made their way back to their room, wearing noting but boxer shorts, a hoodie and boots.
"All good John, Yarrow is here. Sounds like it gave up on the Garrett approach. We'll see you in the morning."

Sunday, 17^th March, 10am

Jason met Elizabeth Tucker at the diner. Friendly, nice looking, and professionally dressed, he let out a sigh of relief. Perhaps his luck had changed. They made their way to the piano shop. Earlier, he had seen the others off, after making clear that Agent Jasper had the lead now. Again, that feeling Sinclair was unhappy with his decision. Jason understood Sinclair was considering himself or Yarrow to be the ones who knew what they would be doing in the house, while Jasper was only muscle. But Jason felt that he needed a full Agent in charge there. Better yet, an Agent he was sure would have no issues to put those two down if need be. He had told Jasper he’d check in on a regular base, and if anything serious happened Jasper had to contact him right away.

Elizabeth drove them to the Jacob's Music. They spend about half an hour there, looking at the piano. They both felt there was nothing untoward with it. It was old, but in good working order. They had coffee, then headed over to the other place. An elderly lady owned the Wheeler’s end table.

Jason called Jasper, who said weird stuff was going on and they were looking into it. That was unexpected. They all had seemed to think that the place would be fine during the day. Apparently, it wasn’t. He told Jasper to be careful, and to vacate the house if things became dangerous.

He drove to the old lady’s place, and they were met by her and introduced to her friends, one with a long-suffering husband in tow. Jason exchanged some pleasantries, and Elizabeth took over, asking to see the end table. As soon as he saw the table, Jason felt they might be on to something. The top had an inlaid Triskelion pattern, which features in a number of folklores and occult traditions. Closer inspection revealed a number of dancing figures around the edge of the table, seemingly led by a larger black figure. This design had an oriental feel to it. Jason looked back at the sitting room, and Elizabeth took his meaning without anything being said, and made her way there, distracting the old lady. Clever girl.

Jason looked at the top again. He noticed a minute asymmetry in the top. It was made of three parts and was just ever so slightly unaligned. Carefully, he slid his knife behind the panel and slowly twisted. The panels aligned and there was a soft click. The top opened, revealing a few items inside. Jason put Elizabeth’s briefcase on the end table and carefully transferred the items from the table to the briefcase. There was an ancient looking bowl, with the triskelion design in it, as well as a very old knife and a black, leather-bound diary. A quick glance showed it to be old, but not ancient. It was written by Isabelle Wheeler. He closed the briefcase and the end table and made his way to the sitting room. After saying their goodbyes and reassuring the old lady he would send her a copy of the American Antiques magazine which would feature her end table, the left the house.

As soon as they were on their way he rang Jasper. Things were getting really weird  apparently and Jason told him to get ready to leave. Ten minutes later Elizabeth and Jason drove past the house, just in time to see Jasper, Sinclair and Yarrow leave. Jason could tell they were shaken, some unexplainable things must have happened inside. He told them to make their way to the parking lot at the playground in the park to discuss further.

They had done so and filled Jason in on their inexplicable experiences. Disconnected phones ringing, Jasper drinking old, filthy coffee, with a cockroach in it, as if it was the best thing he had ever tasted, cries of a cat that couldn’t be found. Sinclair had spoken to a woman on the phone, who had been asking for a number of the deceased owners by name. When he called her Isabelle, things took on a darker, more threatening tone. Other things had been going on, all of them explainable.

Jason filled them in on what he and Elizabeth had found and started read out the full 80 pages of her diary to everyone present. This took a while, and Elizabeth was able to translate the phonetic Italian into English. There it was. Isabelle and the Crone had been doing rituals and magic over a period of 30 years in the house. But when push came to shove, she had turned away from what she was doing, and her illness returned and claimed her life. The Black Man which was summoned, still had a hold over the house, and whatever that thing or power was, Jason felt sure it was responsible for all the suicides and 'accidents' in the last forty years.

The diary also held a ritual to summon as well as dismiss the "Uomo Nero". It involved blood sacrifices. Hypergeometry and medieval metaphysics. Jason closed the book and put it in his pocket. Everyone was a bit quiet after that. He walked away from the van and dialed the number for A-Cell. After a few ring someone picked up and answered with a distorted voice.

"Yes, Agent Jason?"

He filled them in on what had happened over the last 48 hours, the activity at the house, what they had found at the County Seat, and eventually what was found inside Isabelle's end table.  

"It looks like this has been going on ever since Isabelle refused to go all the way with this ritual, Sir. And the diary does hold a "ritual of dismissal" as it is called in there. Metaphysics, requiring blood sacrifice. From what I've read, the summoning can be done over a period of 13 new moons, by making sacrificing animals. Or, it can be done quicker, human sacrifice is guaranteed to work immediately. For the dismissal however, human sacrifice is necessary, as it 'brings forth the Black Man'. I fear the only way to eliminate the danger the house poses is to..."

"Stand by, Agent Jason". A sharp click ended the conversation. 

Sunday, 17^th March 1996, 7:10pm

Jason stared into the dark sky, smoking another cigarette. The noise of the cellphone notifying Jason that he had a message snapped him out of it. His hand reached inside his pocket, automatically pressing the buttons to open the message. He looked back at the van, then to his phone. Even before he looked at the screen, he knew what the message said.

"ELIMINATE THE THREAT"