Cthulhu in Anchorage Alaska 

Agent Carmichael asked the group to check out a request from an old friend, Ken Hito. He did some work for the company about 10 years ago. Agent Carmichael was his contact with the company and over the years developed a friendship with Ken and his family. He knew most of the players in a group of artists that were getting into some really weird shit. Human sacrifice was the force dejour, that and some really bad painting…

Ken’s daughter is missing. He sent her to his brother’s home in Still Mountain near mount Handemo. She was there for about two weeks then disappeared. Ken is adamant that somehow demons are involved (see Ken’s letter to Agent Carmichael).  Fatbast3rd starts researching Japanese demons. FB isn’t very happy about what he finds… basically all Japanese demons are like little gods and there isn’t much in the mortal realm that can touch them.

Even Samantha gets into it and asks Ms. White about requisitioning some holy water… I think it really bothered Samantha when Ms. White asked, “what spiritual denomination?”

Samantha:  His letter said “demons.”  If I’ve learned anything over the last few months, I’ve come to the conclusion not to take anything these people mention as simply hyperbole.  I don’t know if I believe in demons or not, but nothing in my past has led me to discount the concept of “evil.”

After some discussion, Father O’Hara arrived and they went out for a drink (big surprise there) and some conversation. Thanks to Father O’Hara, Samantha opts to take some Catholic Holy Water and some Shinto as well.

Samantha: It’s all about world view. I know that evil exists.  Therefore, good has to exist as well—if only to give definition to evil.  I wasn’t assured that the other kind of holy water would be forthcoming.  Therefore it was best to come equipped with something.  The conversation with Father O’Hara confirmed my belief that it doesn’t matter if I believe, all that matters is that HE believes in it.

Unfortunately, they don’t stock the Shinto holy water, but Father O’Hara has a contact in San Francisco at a Buddhist temple that will be able to help.

Siss has been working on a new more compact version of her improvised rocket launcher. All of the parts have been sent off to the machinist and electron geeks build the parts. Oh, and her new toy a two bore, 34mm gun…  In the interim, Samantha set Siss off on making a delivery device for the holy water… a ‘holy hand grenade’ if you will…

Samantha: Yes, I really labeled it that.  It had to be said in a concept that was clear.

Siss comes up with an ingenious method. Powered by a standard CO2 canister for a pellet rifle, it will spray a pint of holy water 15 feet a full 360 degrees. Pull the pin, standard 10 second delay, or set the timer for up to 5 minutes or proximity (movement sensor). Pretty impressive…

Samantha starts digging into the work that Ken did for the company 10 years ago. The players from 10 years ago that are still alive are in jail and will be till they die. No chance of parole. That is one dead end.

A look into the Village of Still Mountain revealed another juicy tidbit… TemCo is sponsoring the observatory there… They spent about 10 million building it and are currently sponsoring “academic research” at the facility. Dr. Arthur Wix has been hired as the Astronomer in Residence at the Observatory.  A cursory background check on Dr. Wix shows that he is considered a bit of a crackpot by his peers. Seems that he tends to jump to conclusions a bit too easily…

Samantha decides to let FB take the wheel for this trip. The company sent him to a defensive driving course in the time between missions. Samantha is feeling a bit better about the group now that they have all received some basic handgun instruction. Making sure everyone spends an hour a week on the range is the next goal… nothing worse than a team member standing behind you with a handgun and you ‘know’ they don’t have a clue how to use it!

After the short trip to San Francisco, they finally arrive a Ken Hito’s apartment (see Map download). Samantha knocks on the door and it opens… This is never a good sign. Everything seems normal, except for the cats… they are quite hungry. The cats herd Samantha into the kitchen and she opens the fridge to find something to give them… that is when everything went sideways.

The ‘body’ that fell out had no skin on it. The cats immediately started to feed on the body. Samantha managed to get them off and into the bathroom with some cat food and water. Further investigations found the skin from the body. It had been removed in long strips and draped over an unused canvas in the studio…  That must have hurt like a son-of-a-b**ch.

They also found one of Kay’s old diaries (see diary download) and a book on Hypnosis. The only thing that seemed to be missing was a book of poetry (see book list download) written by Kay’s mother (she died a few years ago from cancer).

Ever since arriving at the apartment, Samantha can’t seem to shake the feeling that they are being watched. Their next stop is the Shinto Shrine on the outskirts of the city. Father O’Hara’s contact Mishi Moto at the Buddhist Shinto shrine agreed to meet the group at the temple. After about an hours’ drive, they finally arrive.

Upon arrival, Mishi Moto is summoned and after the exchange of some pleasantries, he escorts the group into the temple… Samantha immediately notices that the feeling of being watched is no longer there. After some discussion, the group lays out their carried weapon… Samantha really impresses everyone with the quantity that she is carrying. And they get a quart of blessed water and their weapons get blessed as well.

After leaving the shrine, the feeling of being watched returns… At one point, Samantha zones out and seems to be flying high above the car looking down on it. About the time she starts to poke around a bit, she seems to get forcibly ejected from wherever she was and back into her body, leaving her with an incredible headache…

A bit later it happens again, this time Samantha wants to smack back.  She’s not exactly sure how to do it, but she focuses all of her anger into it. The next thing she knows, she is back in the car with a smirk on her face… Score one for the good guys…

Samantha: This was really starting to get irritating.  Being watched is one thing.  This was something entirely else, and I most certainly didn’t like it.  Spending the better part of a day and a half with this thing following us is downright maddening.

The drive to Still Mountain was really uneventful. At least until they get there…  At just about the time that they could look down into the small valley, cockroaches… big, nasty cockroaches start pouring out of every air vent and from under the seat… Sis starts to freak out… She doesn’t like bugs… Samantha grabs one of her ‘holy hand grenades’ and fires it off…

Samantha: I thought it was as good a time as any to see if the things “worked.”  Amazingly enough they do work as intended, and I don’t mean the mechanics of it.  I have enough faith in Sis to believe that part would go off.  That the roaches disappeared, well, that was enlightening and potentially useful.  It’s nice, sometimes, to have an opportunity to field test a theory before the fat hits the fire.   I’ve also noted for future reference the bug phobia.

Just a bit of a safety tip here… to get the range, extremely fine jets of water at very high speed were needed. One side effect of it is that the jets of water can cut or even put an eye out.  You definitely do not want to be holding one of these when they go off… it is going to hurt.

Amazingly, the cockroaches vanish, and just as they start to recover from the ordeal, a jet black horse with a heart shaped chunk torn from its side appears out of nowhere running straight at the car... The horse’s ribs are visible and it appears to be bleeding liquid fire… A grating, not-quite human voice fills the air: “Your secrets are mine!” FB performs some good evasive maneuvers and ends up crashing into the side of the mountain rather than driving off of it. But just seconds before the horse was to collide with the car, it vanishes…

They finally get to the Gentle Rest B&B run by Hideki and Amika Saito. Amika checks the party in and gruffly states: “There is only one cabin available, cabin 4…Take it or leave it.” Samantha takes it. Amika informs her that it will sleep four and has two bedrooms. “Breakfast is provided. 8 am. Sharp. ” And hands Samantha the key.

After getting some lunch at the local diner, they get directions to Nakamura’s house (Kay’s uncle). He is out back with his bee hives when they arrive.  After introductions, he shows them Kay’s room and lets the go through her things…

They find a diary (see current diary download) and a shoebox with 23 photos in it. The diary is in the same style as the one from Kay’s room in San Francisco. The photos look like ones she had taken since she had arrived. Looks like lots of local people and even some with her in the pictures… In every picture, she is always dressed warmly and though other parts of her outfit change, she is always wearing a bright red scarf.

GM's Note: Thanks to Trish. She wrote up a little on her character's thoughts (see the journal entry below) about the way this mission is heading and how her character is rationalizing it all...And in case you hadn't noticed, she is pretty much the only player that is add her two cents in on my story...Thanks again...

Sam’s Personal Journal by Trish

You know how you go through life on some very basic assumptions that seem to define your very foundation as a human being, a person?  Mostly I mean hardwired stuff like being right handed, so you reach for things with that hand, or wearing your watch on your left wrist, and never thinking anything about it—until you try to change it, that is.  There are other things too, probably things you grow up believing that are an inheritance of sorts, like you’re an accomplished artist because your mom taught you how to draw when you were a child, really developed that interest and those skills in you early.  You go through life not surprised that you wound up defining yourself by those skills, and forming your life around them.   In many ways, it’s comforting.

Until it all falls apart and you realize that maybe things were never what you perceived them to be.  When I was a child, before my mother died, she spent her time with me teaching me skills that were, charitably, things that I find incredibly useful now.  I couldn’t tell you for sure what she did for a living. It’s probably hard for anyone to understand, but I don’t think I ever asked.  I know I wanted to know, but somehow, it never seemed like a good idea.  Later, when I was older, I told myself that she was an agent.  I’m sure I convinced myself of that, wrote a whole mental history for myself that assumed that’s how she met my father, why she “emigrated.”  For all I know, it might even be true.  If it was a lie, it was one I liked better than believing that she was a simple thief.  Well, if she WAS a thief, I’m pretty sure she wasn’t a simple one.

Things fell apart.  Things always fall apart.  This has to be a mathematical formula or law or something.  No doubt the geeks could come up with something to reflect this truth.  It shouldn’t have taken me by surprise.  Given the lead up to it, I should not have been surprised, but the human capacity for self delusion can be boundless, and I fear that I am no exception to that rule.  It started when I realized that I was being watched after we left the apartment.  I’m no stranger to knowing things like that.  I remembered my mother, very early on, coaching me, telling me to trust my feelings when I got them, and then how to hide myself and to sneak.   The California mission made things happen too fast to adequately evaluate—the finding what was watching, the decision to strike out at it mentally—those should have been clues, but apparently my lack of perception is very high, or I need the dramatic moment, which says something about my character that I still want to ignore. No, my personal epiphany came when I read Hito’s letter to his brother, on the bee ranch.  I guess I just had to have the rolled up newspaper smack me in the face.  Kay had the ability read minds, and probably other, more powerful abilities.  At this point, I couldn’t even deny that such a thing was possible, because in a blast of self realization bright enough to make me put on my shades again, I knew that I did it too, to a small degree, and that I always had. My mother wasn’t teaching me how to be a spy so much as how to control…other things.

I wondered how terrible would a child be with abilities like Kay’s and no idea how to control them?  If there really was a demon around, I’m pretty sure that she’d be the juiciest target anywhere near this place, and that would explain much.  I really needed a priest, and most definitely not for a confession.