The Feast
From SentryOutpost
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[edit] Synopsis
- from Biff's post here
Friday: Rowan and I dropped in Cass about the same time (5:00) We called Sid with the phone card at...whatever time. The pay phone depleted the card beyond use. It wouldn't take coins. The store was closed We went to the ForeSight management office to get our keys. Walked in and asked if there were keys for us. Name? Providence. Received an envelope labeled "Mr. Providence" which contained the key and 8 tickets to the train. We mentioned that there were 8 of us The lady said that was not correct, the cabin only slept 6. I reminded Rowan that 2 had canceled (only knew of Marv at the time, actually) We drove to the cabin and unloaded our stuff. Afterward, Rowan and I went back and forth between the cabin and the store waiting for the Midwest crew who arrived finally around 8-ish. We all watched some bad TV for a few hours. Then the girls went to bed while the guys finished up on 5th element. Around midnight, we received a visitor. A Dude in a vest smoking cigarillo's He gave us some maps and told us to bring provisions and not be late.
As it turned out, it was DC, but he didn't identify himself at the time.
The next day, we were all scrambling to get our provisions together and arrived at the train station around 10:30
The train was already packed full of tourists
Tonamel had found BA wandering about. She was waiting for DC for her ticket.
We gave her one of our extras since we had 3
We all boarded.
Chit-chat on the train.
We made a lunch stop at Whittaker where everyone got off the train.
BA went looking for DC, said she didn't know what he looks like.
When she asked us if we knew, we told her we only had a picture and the dude from last night didn't look like the picture. She asked how big the picture was, I showed a thumb and forefinger indicating small size. (no jokes here please)
I say "I don't know about DC, but that's the dude who gave us the maps"
They hug, then tension ensues.
(see pics)
We pump him for info. "blah blah, can't talk here, Emmet, feast, etc."
we got to the peak, grabbed the donkey cart, and loaded it with stuff
2 other dreamers showed up (DE(e) and JD)
In Art's pics, the chic with the hat and the smoke is DEE, the dude is JD. Both are sitting on the picnic table
The long shot of BA's ass is DC in blue, Map in the gray sweaty, Rowan between, then Tonamel approaching in the tan coat. Varin is behind Map.
The next picture shows me in the long blue coat (purple lapel) in front of BA with Rowan going off camera. The RR crossing sign is the path to the cabin. We lugged that damn cart 3/4 mile up that path
At the cabin, we helped pitch tents and prep.
Then, drama drama "hey you're the chick in our dreams"
We tried to make a fire and failed it several times.
(wet wet wet)
finally get some heat going (yay Rowan, firestarter)
Dee cooked chili
Don't know if DEE and JD were Dreamers or Hidden.
could be both?
they wouldn't answer that
they dreamed
they came to feast every year
The dreamers claimed they've been coming for over 10 years
I said "conclave" and DC and JD took off
They never went back to that
so we eat, and start yakkin'
I'm outside chatting with Dee when JD pops his head out and goes "you have to come in, Devon didn't know Emmet only comes in dreams"
drama!
so the interrogation begins
DC is still in the group (choraz)
trying to be the "lackey"
can't get out without concrete shoes
he's been/being paid (BA did his Tarot and revealed this)
some info comes out here and there
he asked about Miskatonic and why they were involved with anything.
Turns out Choraz was responsible for the deaths of the 13 faculty/others
BA gets creeped out, says she's sleeping in the cabin with Providence
(yay, right? Wrong)
So we hang out, tell ghost stories, other stories, lies, etc.
about 11:30 everyone beds down
right about the time everyone is good and asleep (1:20 or so)
SCREAAAAAAAAMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM
BA is bolt upright, we're all screaming, Varin bumps her head on the ceiling
(upper bunk)
BA yells "where's Devon"
we turn on lights
mapmaker is sitting in a chair and he's holding a hatchet
(call him molly or lizzy or something, choose the best)
(we had hatchets for the firewood)
I shine the light out to the tents
everyone comes in
dreams are revealed
Emmet didn't come in the dreams.
BA woke to a letter from Emmet: "it's your turn"
She goes to the cemetery, hope turns to life and flies off
BA steps on the pedestal and points to the sky
and "sees"
other dreamers saw a woman/girl whispering to her
dark haired
we don't know what was said or who she was
BA gave Rowan a hand written CL (Rowan has pics, I didn't get them)
BA says she's staying for the scream
dreamers: "no don't please don't"
DC says he's staying with
dreamers: "no don't please don't, emmet says scream is bad, must not stay"
BA decides to stay anyway.
next day...drama drama, secrets revealed
(DC told map that Choraz killed the 13 in the cave)
BA tells us she doesn't want DC there with her
so at the end of the train trip, hugs all around, see ya bye, detain DC
Rowan gives him the dear John from BA
(she has pics, not to worry)
so BA splits, DC is pissed
other dreamers distrusted us
but they were nice about it
the note to DC said "help providence"
[edit] Description
[edit] Part 1
I'm the one posting this, but Varin and Tonamel are helping me fill in the blanks. I'll be coming at this from my perspective, however. I arrived at Varin's place in Indiana about 5 AM, and after meeting Mr. Varin and lil' Varin, we drove off in her Honda Element. I'd only had 2 hours of sleep the night before, and she'd only had 6, so she did all the driving and I tried my best to keep her occupied and alert. We drove through to Ohio, stopping once for a break at a rest stop, and picked up Tonamel in New Philadelphia. He took over the front seat for me and I sort of dozed off for a good chunk of the driving until we hit Clarksburg. We ended up hitting the Elkins Hardee's for some dinner, the Citgo for gas, and the Wal-Mart for provisions, and made the final push for Cass. I contacted Sid, who gave me the cabin number before we lost cell coverage just south of Elkins. We ended up at the cabin around 8 and made our hellos.
The house in Cass (it was much more substantial than a cabin) was cold at times, but well-appointed. There was cable TV (only 12 channels, though, and 2 of them were CBS), a kitchen with a fridge, three bedrooms, and one bathroom. I ended up alone in a bottom bunk. We took some of the night to introduce ourselves, eat some of the many things that everyone else brought (I felt like such a mooch!), and watched some great television. The Chronicles of Riddick is really a cinematic masterpiece, with layers and depth and all that crap. After that came The Fifth Element, and at that point Varin and Rowan headed to bed.
After watching Bruce Willis zip around in future-NYC for a bit, and as the battle at Paradise began, we heard a knock at the door. Tonamel answered, and both Biff and I followed, and a man in a blue/green reversible vest was there talking quietly. He handed us a pair of maps, and told us not to be late tomorrow. He left, and we looked at the maps - one large topo map of the area, and a small aerial photograph of Bald Knob. The maps were made for one Devon Conrad, and we thought that it perhaps was Devon himself who had dropped the maps off. We didn't know for sure. I was pretty amused that the topo he gave us ended up being quite similar to one I had had made for the trip but larger. Mytopo.com is a popular site, I guess. Milla Jojovich and Bruce Willis started having sex on TV and that was our cue to hit the hay.
The next morning, as is the norm for me, everyone else had already woken up and gotten started preparing for the day. At one point I heard them hypothesizing about what was going to happen over the next few days through the vent in the floor of my room. The house is one of many historic houses from the days of the lumber operations at Cass, and was built for the days of kerosene stoves heating the house. The vent, then, provided a perfect conduit for sound up from the room below, and as I saw them, I figured I should be a little silly. I remembered that the toilet paper brand in the bathroom was "White Swan", so I ripped off a piece, wrote "Trussed" above "White", and wrote "Boo!" on the other side. I let it loose and it flitted down. After a few seconds they noticed it and laughed.
We packed up the Element with the stuff we had very carefully selected for our trip. Around this point I caught sight of a dog roaming around a few houses down. He came down to me as I was out there and I petted him a few times - a nice, sweet, well-tempered dog if I ever saw one. Tonamel left for the train station 10 minutes ahead of us (the station was less than 5 minutes away on foot). The other three drove over while I walked, as the Element only had three seats in it. The Element went over to the parking lot, while I went directly for the station, looking for Tonamel, Devon, or anyone else I thought might be coming with us.
I arrived and after a few minutes found Tonamel with a new friend, one Bridget Anne Butterfield, aka B.A. St. Feline. (An aside: in chatting with her, I found that it is indeed Anne with an E, but I'm just theorizing as to the spelling of Bridget). Tonamel told me that Bridget was surprised that Providence was more than one person. We wandered across the tracks to the parking lot to help the others unpack, and Bridget introduced herself to them. Also, she had thought Devon might have black hair, as he is a black cat in the Dream. We dragged our stuff and ourselves to the platform and, after looking around a bit, boarded the train. I caught a glimpse of someone who looked like the guy who gave us the maps the night before (accompanied by two others), but he didn't react when I asked if he was looking for someone. He may not have heard me, and he started walking away thereafter, so I just went back with the others.
Together, the six of us had a lot of stuff. Biff and I stayed with some of it at the end of the train car at which we boarded, while the others went to a more spacious area at the other end. None of us ended up getting seats, but we made do. Some of our stuff was in a slightly precarious position outside the railing of the car, so Biff and I spent a good chunk of time looking after it. At the other end of the car, Varin, Rowan, Tonamel, and BA got to know each other a bit. Bridget even gave tarot readings to them all, as well as to complete strangers. She claimed that her tarot cards (the Rider deck according to the box) were a family heirloom. Bridget also noted that she had greater success with tarot readings in the woods, away from technology, a claim that would be borne out by her eerie success with one lady regarding her troubled marriage and recently-deceased mother. As the train climbed the hill, first Biff and then I left the other to watch the stuff and went to the other end of the car to get a chance to talk to Bridget. After about an hour the train arrived about 1/3 of the way up the mountain at the first stop, Whittaker Station.
We got off the train and while Varin went off to go take photos of the old machinery in back and play with fuzzy caterpillars, the rest of us eventually spotted the guy from the previous night and moved towards him. He turned out to be Devon, and BA greeted him with a hesitant hug. We asked Devon about what the night would consist of, but he was mum, commenting that there were too many people around, and that he would explain more once we reached the end of the line and had split off from the simple tourists. Varin had by now returned with two fuzzy caterpillars, giving one to Bridget. The caterpillar quickly curled up into a ball and would not uncoil itself. Poor Bridget was sad that the caterpillar wasn't into her, and eventually gave him to me. I ended up setting him on a picnic table as we were leaving, and it was only then that he sprang back to life. DC didn't join us in our train car, but stayed where he had boarded, up towards the engine. Much of the remaining climb to the top of the mountain was spent shielding ourselves from the wind, talking to each other about whatever came to mind, looking at the late-season foliage, and wondering what was awaiting us at the peak.
It turns out that it was a wheelbarrow. This nefarious contraption would cause us all pain soon enough. So after the train reached the last leg of track, it uncoupled the caboose and locked it down. This would be the home of a family for the night, complete with coal-burning stove. We would not be this lucky. After we disembarked the train, we met back up with Devon, who introduced us to his friends Dee and JD. We loaded as much stuff as we could into our friend Mr. Wheelbarrow and made our way back down the tracks a bit. See, while we had gotten to the end of the railroad, the summit of the mountain, where our cabin was located, was another 130' higher in elevation, and perhaps a half-mile distant up a trail which started at a crossing slightly down from the overlook at which the train stopped. Biff was the first to fall to the wheelbarrow - while trying to get it over the tracks onto the railroad grade for easier pulling to the trail itself, he stepped into a ditch slipped on the gravel bed and fell. No harm done, but we realized this wheelbarrow might be more trouble than not. The trail to the top of the mountain was slightly muddy, rocky, and at times somewhat steep. Dee took this opportunity to deliver the first of many warnings about bears in these hills. Turns out that the drought conditions the area had experienced had taken its toll on the berries and other food for both bears and their prey, and so the bears weren't just out there, they were hungry as well. So with occasional calls of "Hey Bear!" we made our way up the hill, taking turns two at a time with the wheelbarrow. Eventually we decided that we would lighten the load and take stuff up by hand, leaving someone to stay with the wheelbarrow. I volunteered, and as people moved on, I figured I would try to move it a bit. Well, after my clumsy attempt to turn the thing around to better position it for one person (a maneuver so shoddily executed that I ended up bruising my foot a bit), Dee turned back and helped me take it up a ways. We eventually had had it, and waited for someone to come down. First JD then Devon came, and among the group of us (and possibly Bridget - I can't remember), we got the damned thing up the hill to the top of Bald Knob.
The clearing at the top of the hill was perhaps about 200' long by 100' wide, with the cabin set in the center. It was a one room building, with a wood-burning stove (and a chimney which, when working, made the room just bearably smoky), two bunk beds, and a table. Previous residents had left us with some spices, water, and other sundry items. The furnishings were rustic but perfectly fine for a night's stay. The entrance to the clearing was at the southeast end, and just to the southwest of the cabin, right outside the door, was a damp fire pit. On the opposite side of the cabin, at the edge of the clearing, was a firewood shed and an outhouse - one building, two doors. At the northwest end of the clearing was the fire lookout tower, a rickety structure missing it first ten or so steps. The ranger at the overlook and a sign on the side of the tower both exhorted us to not climb the tower, but by the end of our time there, most of us would have done so, using the brackets that formerly held the steps in place to make it past the stepless areas. JD was the first to climb it, as the sun went down Saturday evening. I climbed it the next morning, as the steps and metal was wet with the mist that had come through the area that night. The views from the top were great, although the fog obscured much of the scenery when I was up there. Also at the northwest end of the clearing was a "Ghost Path" - I initially thought that Devon had something in mind with it later on for us, but that was not the case.
After getting the stuff off the wheelbarrow, our first task was to start fires; one outside, and one in the stove. We grabbed some firewood from the shed, and then Dee asked me to get some kindling. I wasn't exactly sure what to do to that end - there wasn't anything small and dry in the shed. So I grabbed two pieces I thought looked good and brought it back. Dee found my pathetic haul hilarious, and I admitted that I'd never built a fire before. Most of my outdoorsness takes place over one day, so I've not had the need. Biff took pity on me and we gathered stuff from near the Ghost Path entrance. The big problem was, though, that aside from the logs from the shed, everything was soaked through and through. Thus any kindling we gathered outside was wet. When it became apparent that none of that would catch, we started peeling bark off of and chopping up firewood for kindling. Rowan took charge of the effort inside, and Dee headed up the outside fire building. I was outside with Dee, and although over the next hour or so we got fire for a bit, nothing ever stayed lit. The moisture in the air was seeping into the firewood, and the fire pit was soaked through and through. We tried adding paper, newspaper, and fire starters, but it took forever to get that fire going. Rowan had more success in the stove, and even gave us a few smoldering logs to help us out. A few people (Bridget for sure) had recommended overturning the ash to see if there was dryer ground underneath, and we should have, but didn't. We managed, though, and if Prometheus were there, he'd undoubtedly smile, except for the liver thing. I ended up in my clumsiness with the hatchet getting a few cuts and a splinter, but nothing bad at all.
As Dee started preparing the Feast - consisting of beef chili, beans, pasta, fresh bread, and slightly smashed pies (they were also casualties of the wheelbarrow), we started asking questions. Why were we here? What was going on? What did everyone know? In most cases, the answer to our questions would be "Wait until Emmet comes." JD, Dee, and Devon insisted that Emmet would come with all the answers to our questions, and that while he might not talk to Providence, Bridget and the others would ask him what we wanted. But there was definitely tension and surprise in the hours leading up to the Feast. Dee, for instance, insisted she recognized Bridget from somewhere. I (as likely did others) figured she was talking about her dreams, and I even suggested she sleep on it. That didn't trigger her memory, but as we talked, she finally realized that Bridget was who she had been seeing. She turned to JD - who she knew shared her dreams - with astonishment, only to be met with "I'd already figured that out." Poor Dee was kind of upset that JD hadn't mentioned that, but Dee quickly became entranced with the idea of there being multiple people having the same dream. She knew that there were some like her, but meeting Bridget just threw her spirit-sense up a notch. Dee was a very spiritual person and kept noting the clashing energy fields around Devon and Bridget. Bridget would ask questions, only to be met with "Wait until Emmet comes."
Before the Feast, I had the opportunity to talk with both Devon and Bridget. Biff and I helped get water for the pasta from the non-potable spring back down the trail a ways. Our chit-chatting with Devon wasn't particularly enlightening, however. He did say both then and later that he had immense faith in Bridget (or, as he called her, Saint Feline), and that, again, all would be clear when Emmet came. But talking with Bridget was another story. She knew I had talked a lot with Marie. She would too, in her dreams, at the coffee shop. When she said to me, "She's dead, you know", I answered honestly: "Yes." I've known it for a while. Both Bridget and I could feel it, and it hurts. It was comforting to have someone there to share the pain with. Bridget also told us about the guilt she feels over Kevin. Something else we could commiserate over. The pain she feels - you can see it in her eyes. Tonamel and Varin heard from her that she was extremely uncomfortable about Devon moving all of his stuff into her tent without even asking and asked if we were comfortable with her sleeping in the cabin. The answer was a clear "yes". Oddly, Tonamel asked Devon if he had asked Bridget for permission, and he insisted that he had, and that she was fine with it. It's worth noting that at point the two of them went off down the path to talk in private, and when they returned, she was yelling at him, claiming he "always acted like that" and something about his attitude. I don't recall clearly, to be honest. I wouldn't go so far to say that Devon had any ill intentions, but he was extremely protective of Bridget, and that grated on her.
Before the Feast, however, there would be one more startling revelation.
To be continued...
[edit] Part 2
Oops, I was wrong. There were no revelations before the Feast. Except, perhaps, that we forgot the tomatoes for the chili. Dee had to make due with Campbell's tomato soup that some thoughtful soul left for us. We sat down to dinner and dug in to the chili (which, to our relief, contained none of our flesh) and the rest of the food. We've thought long and hard about the Feast itself, and none of us can remember actually talking about anything. The only things that happened were: Varin remarking on the silence and asking "How 'bout dem Bears?"; the window flying open and someone asking if it was Emmet; and Varin holding up her steak knife to show she could take Emmet if the need arose.
Varin's bravado would not be necessary, however. As the meal wrapped up and we pressed to know more about Emmet's arrival, Dee and Biff went outside. Devon finally asked JD when we could expect Emmet, and JD replied saying that we just need to go to sleep. Devon was confused - since the feast was over, where was Emmet? Something wasn't right. Devon and JD went back and forth a bit, not quite understanding the other, until JD looked at Devon with disbelief and asked, "You don't think Emmet's actually coming here, do you?"
You can imagine the mix of shock and disappointment that fell over the room. Devon didn't quite understand - or didn't want to understand - the implications of what JD was saying. So JD spelled it out for him: Emmet came to them in their dreams, not the real world. At this point, Devon lost it. Not angrily, not loudly. He just sat there, muttering things to himself and no one in particular, seemingly working through the statement that JD had just made. JD now stood up. His frustration and dismay were visible as he said, "I knew this was a mistake." He had earlier mentioned that the other Dreamers had stayed away from this Feast because Devon and us were there, and that they had not many any friends by associating with Devon. JD said, "the others were right about you" and that this whole thing, the Feast, bringing us here, bringing Devon here, was a mistake. As he went out to tell Dee, he apologized to us, saying that he was sorry if were led to believe that we would be meeting Emmet in the real world.
Dee and Biff quickly reentered the cabin. To be honest, our memories of what happened until the next morning is a bit hazy. Parts of the conversation may be out of order or missing entirely. But the critical information is still here. I forgot to mention that Bridget had been insisting to Devon, JD, Dee, and us that she would stay for the Scream. All the Dreamers in the area leave for it - Emmet instructs them to, and the implication is that they would not survive it. They were aghast at the idea. Sure that he would side with them, JD and the others told her to wait for Emmet to come. But now, her resolve to stay was reiterated. In the discussion of the Scream, we found that Dee did not know what happened to people who stay. We then told her about the Miskatonic Massacre and the thirteen who died there.
I will forgo narrative structure at this point, because we don't have a fucking clue as to how all of this came up. But here goes:
- We asked them what Emmet was. What did he look like? Why do they trust him? They responded that it was a feeling, something they knew to be true. They said he was a man, and Dee said he looked scruffy, but elaborated no further.
- It came up that Devon had been present with Chorazos in Atlanta during the ritual. He wanted us to see what was in there. Probably because of this, yours truly created a picture-perfect rendering of the scene Sapagoo found. It would later (or maybe earlier) come up that one of the things that Devon had done for Chorazos was deliver hard drives from place to place. He claimed to have had very little responsibility in the cult, and that he didn't know what they were up to. He also claimed that he originally joined Chorazos because he felt something was missing in his life, and sought to fill the void.
- It came up that Kevin had been present at the ritual in Atlanta. This confused us greatly, because Kevin was dead before the ritual Sapagoo had found. Coupling this with the fact that Bridget keeps seeing Kevin in his dreams, we conjectured that somehow he was zombie-like alive in some weird way. This turned out to be misguided, as Devon subsequently told us that there were multiple rituals in Atlanta (that may have been different in nature than the one Sapagoo came upon). Devon said that he was with them for a few rituals, then.
- During the conversation, Dee's electromagnetic sensitivity came up. Varin pointed out that they were not alone in feeling this way - that there were web sites devoted to where the "Hum" is least felt in the area. Dee had not always felt this way - it had been getting worse recently, and Varin conjectured that it might be because of something that Chorazos was doing - Lucky5, for instance.
- While we were grilling Devon, Bridget pulled out her tarot cards. She read that Devon had recently accepted a large sum of money and regretted it. Quickly fearing for our safety, we wondered if we had been set up. I then proposed to JD that maybe the reason Devon was so upset about Emmet being only in the dreamscape was because he had promised to deliver Emmet to Chorazos. JD asked Devon about this, and he said no, that the money was for February, and that Chorazos would attempt the interrupted ritual Sapagoo found then during the full lunar eclipse. In continuing the tarot, Bridget concluded that Devon had backed himself into a corner from which there was no escape. He kind of started to freak out at this point, not knowing what to do. Someone commented that there was always a choice - but Dee held that his choice was at the beginning, when he decided to join Chorazos.
- It seems Chorazos is similar to the mob. Once you join, you are always a member, and squealing leads to the ultimate repercussion. He couldn't leave, because they would kill him. We were obviously concerned for our own safety, and Dee and JD were afraid that he had either been followed or were leading them to us. We assured them that we didn't ourselves know where we were going ahead of time, and so the chances of Chorazos finding us in the backwoods of Pocahontas County were slim. Devon reassured them that he took great precautions, and meant no malice - he simply wanted us to meet Emmet. It was at this point that JD unsheathed the dagger he had hidden in his boot, and raising above his head, took aim at Devon's heart. His aim was true and blood squirted all over the pie. Wait, no, just kidding. I did, however, make the argument that if Chorazos was on there way, we couldn't do anything about it.
After we finished dessert, we decided we needed a break from the action, and decided to tell ghost stories. Because, you know, we weren't scared enough. I'd been looking forward to reading from the ghost story book of the Appalachians we found in the cabin, but it turned out it was written by a college professor in the beautifully stilted language that only academics can produce. We're talking stuff about the gold standard, municipal politics, psychosocial crap and other stuff. However, others came to the rescue: Bridget, who told a few stories about things that happened to her friends; Dee, who told a slew of stories about the ghosts she felt often; and Varin, about the ghost that turned out to be a squirrel.
Then it was time for sleep. Foremost in Dee's mind after this had all transpired was for Bridget's safety, from dangers cultish, natural, or mystical. After discussion, it was decided that BA would sleep on the floor of our cabin. Emmet was coming tonight, and none of us really felt ready for it. As the room fell dark, I tried to fall asleep up in my top bunk. The smokiness of the room didn't help matters, and neither did the eerie feeling that came over me. As I was nodding off, I suddenly was overcome with a strong sense of déjà vu. I felt that I had been in that cabin before, with these six people. And I had the strange and urgent sensation that I had to jump down off the bed and protect Bridget. I can't explain it. It wasn't while anything else was happening, and I stayed in my bed. But it would rattle me a few hours later.
At 1:20 AM, the still peace of the night was shattered by a piercing, relentless, desperate scream. As we woke from our slumber, in the confusion we all screamed along, until we found it was Bridget, frantically flailing on the floor. As Rowan, who was sleeping on the floor as well, went to her side to comfort her, we all became very worried about our surroundings - particularly Varin, who upon waking in the other top bunk shot straight up and hit her head on the ceiling. Bridget cried out for Devon, wanting to know if he was OK. Panicked, Biff went to the window with a flashlight and called for them. They had already woken up from the screams, and ran to the door. My thought was that we would find the shredded remains of a tent outside (given Dee's continued comments about the presence of bears and how her and JD's campsite had been ripped to shreds by a bear a week prior), with the dead bodies of JD and Dee and no sign of Devon. Varin had a different thought in the confusion and early-morning terror: that JD and Dee would come to us with blood on their hands, and we would find their handiwork, Devon's corpse, outside.
And now, an aside. Much has been made of my so-called hatchetmania. I would like to take this opportunity to set the record straight. Given the many possibilities of what may have happened - evil cultists come to our door, a massive bear roaming through the campsite, murderous Dreamers following the words of an unseen and unquestioned advisor being just a few - I felt it prudent to be prepared. I did not, as some thought, have the hatchet under my pillow. No, as I jumped down from the bed, wanting to know what the hell was going on, as I waited for the campers outside to come to the door, I sat down in a chair at the foot of my bed. On the chair next to me was my hoodie, which I put on, and underneath it, I noticed one of the hatchets we had been using to chop wood. (Thanks, Varin.) Not knowing what might come through the door, I picked it up. That's all. I didn't "wield" it, it was just in my hand.
Despite our worst thoughts, Dee, JD, and Devon ran into the cabin, unharmed, but visibly shaken. In fact, in the rush, Dee lost her hat and one of her gloves. It turned out Bridget had had a bad dream. Perhaps we should have expected it, given that each and every dream sequence she submitted to Craigslist ended with her screaming and waking up, but it took us completely by surprise. She went into the details of her dream (a written version she gave to Rowan for posting on Craigslist). It started with her waking in her apartment, as usual, but instead of rushing out to the elevator, she instead found a note from Emmet. It simply said, "It's your turn." She left the building, went through the forest, and arrived at the winged angel Hope. Instead of the broken angel she had found night after night, Hope was now whole, and Bridget watched, the angel took flight and left the pedestal. Hope was gone. Wanting to know what it was that Hope had been pointing at all this time, Bridget climbed atop the pedestal and looked to the sky. What she saw there, she could not describe. She said it was like when at night you look at the cosmos, and feel it staring back at you; you feel so small and insignificant. When it looked at her, it was like it knew her.
JD, Dee, and Devon also had the dream, in a way. They entered the dream following her, trailing a distance through the forest. When they arrived at Hope's pedestal, they saw Bridget, standing atop it, pointing at the sky. But next to her, whispering something they could not detect into her ear, was a woman. Bridget insisted she was alone, and saw and heard nothing. But the three knew they saw her. They could not describe her well, only to say she may have been of dark complexion. The first person to spring to our minds was Marie, but no one but Bridget knows what she looks like, and she didn't see her. In retrospect, I am hesitant to say it was Marie, as it doesn't really make that much sense, but it's what we were considering at the time. Perhaps most upsetting to the Dreamers was that Emmet did not appear to them - only the note was found. At one point it was debated as to whether the note was really from Emmet, but JD and others figured that if it wasn't, then Emmet would have come to them and said so. Looking back, this theory seems unlikely.
We debated the meaning of the note, to no real end, but as a result of the dream, Bridget was even more convinced that she needed to stay for the Scream. JD and Dee did not like this at all, especially given that Emmet went missing at the Feast. Besides, they reasoned, there are dangers aside from the Scream. Bridget revealed that she felt that after the dream with the radio tower, she could handle the Scream, and that it was a risk she had to take. In the discussion of all of this, Devon volunteered to stay with Bridget through the Scream. It was clear to us, the Dreamers, and presumably both Bridget and Devon that he would most likely not survive the dangers the Scream would bring. This bothered him not, for he felt it was his duty, his calling to protect Saint Feline. JD and Dee urged Bridget to reconsider, but the best she would agree to was that she would sleep on it.
It was late, and our memories have failed us, but one last item of note before we fell asleep, this time for good. At some point the topic of our fallen friends here at the Outpost came up, in particular Kevin. Bridget, unprompted, mentioned that she had kissed him before he left. He just smiled in response, but she had always harbored thoughts that had she not kissed him, he would not have taken his own life. We consoled her, telling her that that was ridiculous - Rowan pointed out that in cases like these, everyone looks at their actions for something they might have done differently to have changed the outcome. I hope that offered her some comfort, as the night was cold, and she would have difficultly returning to bed.
To be concluded in the morning...
[edit] Part 3
The night brought no more surprises. We were all shaken, however, and sleep did not come easy. The howling wind, the moving shutters, and the smoke from the stove did not help. Neither did the thick fog that had come down upon the cabin, obscuring our surroundings and making trips outside require a partner. Varin was disturbed by a nightmare involving us atop the mountain, and Tonamel became physically ill, unable to return to bed. Bridget herself would not get back to sleep until dawn broke, and then I imagine she did not sleep well. I woke at about 8:30 AM to find Tonamel, still unable to sleep, sitting in the cabin with JD. I lay in bed for a while until the others woke.
Dee and Devon woke up as well, and with us all there, we found that none of them had dreamed again. Emmet did not come that night, except for the note that Bridget received, and this did not sit well with JD or Devon. But there was nothing to be done but break down the tents and pack up our things and return to where the train had dropped us off. We had plenty of time, as the train was not to return until after 1 PM, but we set straight away to work. The cleanup and packing wasn't glamorous, and everyone pitched in (although I, not having brought much stuff, was probably the lazy one of the group).
It wasn't all washing dishes, stuffing backpacks, and wondering what items were whose. We found the logbooks for the cabins and looked through them, reading about bear sightings the month before, little kids hating or loving the experience, and people lamenting that they brought too much stuff. Encouraged by the frequency with which previous visitors ventured up the lookout tower, I ended up doing so as well. The wind whipped through the windowless, wooden room at the top, but all around you could see the tops of the hills, some trees still clinging to their brown and orange leaves, peeking through patches of fog.
The log books also mentioned enjoying the Ghost Trail at the end of the clearing, and undaunted by one report of ghosts with funny noses and hatchets, Dee, Varin, Rowan, Biff, and I went out to explore it. The trail wandered through thick stands of trees, leafless at eye level but thick enough at the canopy to cast the forest into relative darkness; past upended trunks green with moss fed by the layer of water on everything and with the roots sticking out into the air; over rocks and near streams; under a wire that most likely was the border of the state park; and ending in a mess of deadfall and with a cabin Biff pointed out in the distance, but which I could not see. Alas, we met no ghosts on the trail - the only problems we encountered were a few slips and falls, and Dee tearing her skirt.
The night's sleep had not tempered Bridget's resolve to stay in the mountains for the Scream. The five of us knew there was no changing her mind, and despite JD's exhortations, we began working out the logistics of her stay. Dee impressed upon us the importance of safety outside of the supernatural - the Scream and Chorazos may be dangerous, but so are the rocky peaks, hungry bears, and the lack of contact. Devon again volunteered his help, and while Bridget didn't seem to like it, she went along with it.
As we continued to pack up, Devon took me aside, and asked if we could go over near the Ghost Trail to speak in private. I agreed, and we walked over, pausing to look up at Bridget, who had climbed the lookout tower and was looking down at us. Once we went a few feet into the woods, out of earshot but well within sight of the cabin, he told me that he had not come clean with us the night before at the Feast. Not only had he known about the Miskatonic Massacre, but he knew that Chorazos was behind it. The incident in the cave, at Shattered Finger Pass, was as we suspected no accident. Chorazos was afraid that the researchers were going to "muzzle" the scream and so must be stopped - and as a result, Chorazos "fed" the scream. He went on to say that Chorazos aimed to gain limitless power through their god, Yog-Sothoth. Devon didn't know any of this as he joined, and his distaste for what Chorazos turned out to be was clear.
Devon was not the only one with messages delivered in secrecy. Realizing that Bridget's sensitivity to electronics made it unlikely we would get an e-mail or phone call from her to let us know she was OK after the Scream, I gathered everyone's addresses and gave them to her. I deeply hope we hear from her soon. She asked something of us as well - she wanted us to distract Devon at the train station so she could go off by herself. She did not want Devon's company, and we agreed to help her out. She gave us a note to give Devon after she'd left. She also gave Rowan a note, which we read outside near the fire tower. It was the dream she'd had that night, just as you might have seen it in the Craigslists.
After we finished packing everything up, we headed back down the hill. The wheelbarrow was much easier to handle, given that we'd eaten and drunk much of what was weighing it down earlier. Biff and I handled the cart down most of the way, and Devon took much of the climb back up the railroad grade to the station. While Biff went to dump the trash, we waved to the children who had been staying in the caboose that night. The family there would later tell us of some eerie things (I forget exactly what) that happened around 1 or 1:30 the night before.
We looked out over the valley below at the wooden, slightly rickety overlook. You could see all the way to Virginia from there, but more interesting was the landscape closer in. Off to the left, partially obscured by the hills, was the Green Bank telescope, pointing to the heavens. Down in the valley we could see the smoke from the train coming to pick us up on and off, as it wound its way up the mountain. Green clearings lay in sharp contrast to the orange and red trees that populated the landscape. As the family from the caboose came out and snapped photos, their innocence and enjoyment of the vista provided a welcome respite from the frights of the previous night and from the job we had waiting for us back down in Cass.
Several deer, the first animals we'd seen on the mountain were out at the clearing, and Dee went up to them. Unfortunately, the children of the family in the caboose accompanied her, and she could not get as close as she would have liked - she didn't want to endanger the kids. We had originally sat down near the tracks, but bitten by the cold winds, we sought refuge in a tree-lined clearing uphill from the train station with a few picnic baskets. Tonamel stayed down near the lookout, and as we talked, we could hear his voice echoing across the West Virginia hills. As Dee remarked, his wonderful arias could have no better stage or sound system than the natural beauty we found that fall morning. As we sat atop the hill, waiting for the train, we chatted about music and pets and other unimportant things.
The train finally rolled into the station, after being able to hear the whistle through the still air for quite some time. As we gathered our things together, one of the rangers informed us that there had been a man in a Zion hat inquiring about the cabin - and had been on the train up with us the day before. Dee immediately was concerned for Bridget's safety, and quickly surveyed the train and tourists for anyone wearing such a hat. Although she found no one matching the description, our nerves had sharpened again after having been lulled by the landscape and the casual talk.
The train ride down felt much different than the one going up. Each car's brakes squeaked shrilly at unexpected times, sending a shiver down your spine. Many of the trees that had just the day before been sporting colorful leaves were now bare, and the wind seemed even colder than it had yesterday. I was personally frozen to the core several times over the weekend, and never fully thawed until I was well on the way home. But conversations eventually turned to the matters at hand. Devon and Varin went aside, talking about Bridget's plans to stay for the Scream. Although he repeatedly asked Varin to try and convince Bridget that it would be best for her to stay with him - he knew she was hesitant to do so - Varin was insistent that she should get a local non-dreamer to help her over the next few days.
As for me, I had noticed that Bridget had kept quiet thus far, looking sadly into the distance. We met at the side of the train car, and talked the entire way down. We chatted about many random topics - her home state of Maine, musicals, and the state of the world - but also about the task in front of her and the sadness that had transpired. I'm not exactly sure how to put my feelings about all of this down so far, so I hope you'll excuse the fact that I shall save my reflections of Bridget (and Devon) until the end.
As the train rolled into the station, we sadly realized that Providence and Bridget would have to say our goodbyes. She went around to each of us, hugging us and telling us "be seeing you." And as the train rolled into the station, Bridget and I disembarked, while the others stayed on board. I followed her as she walked down the platform, in an attempt to make Devon think someone was keeping an eye on her, but I heard a commotion from the train and saw that Devon had figured out what was going on. The other six forcibly restrained him, and after she had vanished into the crowd, Rowan gave him the letter she had penned. He read its exhortation from her to protect Providence, and, although visibly disappointed, seemed resigned to his fate.
As we got our stuff off the train, we said our goodbyes. Dee, frustrated, had left soon after we let Devon loose. JD and Devon, while not happy with the way the Feast had turned out, shook our hands nonetheless. We wished each other well, and went our separate ways. As I walked back to the house, I figured we would not see them again in West Virginia.
It turns out that wasn't quite right.
To be concluded (for reals) after dinner...
[edit] Part 4
Sorry about the delay everyone - I've had a lot of people here asking about my weekend. Now where was I?
We unpacked our things from the Element and sat down to try to relax ourselves. Biff had work the next day, so had to pack up and head back down south. We said our goodbyes, and saw him off. We'd not gotten much sleep the night before, so we ended up plopping down on the couches to watch some television. Rowan was curious about how USC had fared that weekend, but ESPN was stubbornly showing not golf, not poker, but poker players playing golf. When we somehow got tired of the high-stakes action, we made our way to one of two restaurants in town (and the only one that didn't close by 5) for some dinner. We admired the framed Jeff Foxworthy quotes on the wall, the line of Whoop Ass jerkies and sauces, and the pay-after-you-eat policy. The walk back was quiet, and we noted that as today was the last day the trains were running, the town had pretty much emptied out.
Once we got home, we turned on the television yet again, and found the gem known as Not Another Teen Movie. (I can proudly say I was the one to identify it, even not having seen it.) After it ended, I went upstairs to take a nap while the others flipped channels to the Bourne Supremacy. A little over an hour later, Varin went to the general store in town to try and make a collect call to Mr. Varin. No one was there to accept the charges, so she headed back to the cabin in the moonlight.
As they sat there watching the movie, panicked cries for help came from outside the house. They jumped from their seats and looked outside to find a man lying in the road behind a dark SUV getting pummeled by two guys. Rowan stood closest to the action, but didn't go farther than front stoop of the house. Tonamel thought he heard the man screaming, "Help me, Providence," but he wasn't sure. The danger level jumped as the driver of the car locked eyes with Rowan, and in that moment, the danger they were in became all too evident. They rushed back into the house, slamming the door behind them. While they were inside the house, the assaulters outside shoved the man inside the car, got inside, and drove off, so by the time they had opened the door again, there was no sign of them.
Remember that I had been resting peacefully while all this happened. It was a testament to the sheer terror of Bridget's dream that she woke me up so quickly - it took both Tonamel and Rowan to rouse me. Again, I wasn't sure what was going on, and the suddenness of all of it scared me out of sleep for the second time that weekend. When I made it downstairs, I found the three of them looking in the street for any sign of what had happened, or for anything anyone might have dropped. They told me about what had transpired, and that they felt that the abducted person was Devon.
I personally at this point went into defense mode. Summoning all my training gathered from the Discovery Channel, Law & Order, and countless action movies, I grabbed my flashlight (note: not the hatchet) and attempted with the others to secure the perimeter. We locked all the doors and windows, circled the house, and generally were freaked out about what might happen next. Varin and Rowan drove back to the pay phone in order to attempt the collect call once again (successfully this time), while Tonamel and I took the opportunity to secure the secured perimeter more securely.
Once they had returned, Tonamel and I needed to escape the house for some fresh air. I grabbed my flashlight, and we spent the better part of an hour wandering the town, looking for anything suspicious. All the houses were eerily dark, with only the rare car driving through the main road through town. The night was cool, but we were so shaken that it didn't bother us. We wandered over most of the streets of Cass, down to the train station, and around the parking lot. We probably startled some people in campers there, but otherwise didn't see a soul until near the end, when an elderly gentleman pulled up on the street behind our house and talked to us for a minute.
Finally we returned to the house. Although we were unsure if the kidnappers would return (we knew they saw us witness the incident), there wasn't much we could do about the situation except lock up and attempt to sleep. We did have one ally in Cass, however. Remember that dog I'd seen as we left the train station and as we unpacked? He took up residence on our front porch that night. Despite the name "Matt" on his tag, we knew what we had to call him: Providence.
The next morning, I awoke to the sounds of people packing up their stuff. We grabbed some random snacks to eat; I mainly nibbled on cookies that people had baked for the trip. The entire time we were packing up, Providence was running around the house, sitting at the front or back door. We slipped him some food - a little cookie here, some beef jerky there - and he was more than happy to take it. While the town initially stayed as desolate as it had been the night before, as the day went on more people came out of the woodwork - someone on the porch across the street, people in the park near the general store, a park ranger near the tracks - to ease us out of our paranoia and fear.
We spent the rest of the time in Cass wandering down to the ruins of the train repair yards and back. Rowan and Varin were disappointed by the fact that the general store had closed for the season - they'd been looking forward to getting squished pennies from the machine there. I wandered the other way down the tracks and found some rusting freight cars, one from an old naval air station and others from who knows where. At this point, having returned our key to the drop box earlier, it was time to head back home. Tonamel, Varin, and I said goodbye to Rowan, and our two cars headed different directions down the road.
As the narrow roads got wider and the livestock in the fields turned to parking lots and strip malls, we talked about what had happened this weekend. I kept looking at my phone, hoping to get service, and finally managed to send out a text message just south of Elkins once again. By the time we reached the Panera in Clarksburg, we'd gotten ahold of our loved ones and let them know we made it out alive. I noted the three voicemails left by Sentries - WolfHawk, Konamouse, and Taluria - and called WolfHawk back, as she was the only one who'd left her phone number. As we came back online in the Panera, we realized what Varin, Rowan, and Tonamel had seen outside our house was indeed Devon getting picked up.
The drive home was an interesting mix of reflection of the weekend's happenings (I wrote the first part of this en route from Clarksburg to Tonamel's, posting it there, and the second part from Tonamel's to Varin's), casual chatter, and sleep-deprived giggling.