A Debt to Society (Reckoning of the Dead): GM- Ray

Settings and Time Period: London, January 1752.

Hook: The investigators find themselves shivering in Newgate Prison, debtors to society. When a malevolent creature attacks, the warden is willing to exchange their freedom to track it down… 

Mary Jones (Rob); owner, 57. Inherited the coffeehouse from my late husband, Gary, and ran it well for the past 12 years. Till my estranged brother-in-law recently returned from the Americas and sued me for ownership. I won the case but couldn't afford the legal fees.

Imelda Carpenter (Zahndra); Socialite, 31. Moved in some of London's most fashionable circles, till my latest ball broke the bank. Secured a loan from Lady Marylebone, who I thought was my friend, till I couldn't pay her back. Now a debtor in prison, a laughingstock.

Leopold Webb (Bill); Doctor of Medicine, 42. I served as an eminent physician for many years. But to be seen in Newgate would be a disgrace, had I not fallen so far already. Six months ago, I failed to save the life of a young child, and the vindictive father (Isaac Coombe) has harried me in court ever since.

Dr. Webb’s Memoir: To my son, Jacob, that you might understand my plight. While the warden set me a free man, my name (our name) and image are still tarnished. I cannot return home as that would jeopardize you and your mother. Sir Isaac Coombe will not stop in his pursuit of me. Therefore, I beseech ye, sail for the Americas and start a new life. If for no other reason, sail to protect your mother from the things I encountered to achieve my freedom. Let me explain…

Mere hours after sentencing, I found myself and two women shoved into a large cell already crowded with another 30+ ‘criminals’. At least the guards let us keep our coats to ward off the cold January frost. But the looks from some ‘criminals’ suggested we’d have to fight to keep our belongings through the day. We were like cattle milling about waiting to be bailed out. Hay lined the cell floors while a few torches flickered in overhead sconces. I prayed to God this housing only temporary; that we’d get real cells with bedding for the night. A blanket of our own. But then I saw others stuffing hay into their clothing for added warmth. How long would this go on?

Imelda saw the same and looked toward the hay. One corner already used as a urinal. She became vocal demanding, “Animals are kept better! I demand to be released. My family has called a lawyer from the Americas. He will…” The guards rattled their truncheons against the bars and yelled “sit missy. If no-one comes for yer, ye will be divided into gender dorms.”

Poor Mary… she just stood stomping her feet for warmth and cried as she knew no-one was coming to bail her out. I think Imelda’s mention of the Americas only reminded Mary of how she was in prison in the first place. I suggested we three huddle together like the others for warmth, shared body heat, but Imelda only paced like a caged lion.

And that is when we saw the red mist leech out of a wall and envelop a man leaning against it. At first, he was just standing with his hands tucked in his shirt for warmth, then flailing and screaming in pain. At first, we all just starred at his transformation: parts of him rapidly aging under the torch light while other parts shrunk as if reverse aging. His ears now almost paper-thin as a baby’s and his canine teeth transforming into baby-teeth. Imelda… poor woman [Sanity check-99]… also began shrieking and calling for the guards.

Meanwhile, Mary and I rushed into action to save the man. I used my removed coat to swipe into the mist and hook his leg so we could pull him out of the mist. Too late, he already dead. And the mist moved on sideways to another victim for it WAS a confining cell crammed with bodies. As I knelt beside the first body, cautious he might exhale some of the red mist (fortunately no), Mary rushed to help the other man. Brave to reach toward the mist knowing what it could do. She able to pull him out in time with only one of the man’s arms withered to the size of a child’s.

At least Imelda’s calls attracted the guards who at first called for order “Quiet Down!” Soon the gate was opened to allow 2 guards in who had to beat back the crowd trying to escape the mist. Other guards secured the gate. Only then did the first 2 guards see the mist which Imelda pointed out. Panic? Defense? They wavered their torches at it as they backed up. And the mist melted back into the wall. And I further noticed it made effort to avoid the torches in the sconces. It was a sentient creature! And fire was a threat and defense.

Soon other guards arrived to remove the dead body and lead the injured away. Some time later, a large man in a suit arrived, demanding, “I’m the warden in charge. What happened?” Most fellow debtors only cowered and pointed at the three of us. Mary stood forward and described the “dreadful red mist.” I took time to describe the wounds inflicted using my medical knowledge. Imelda… demanded, “If you are in charge, then it is YOU responsible for our safety. Let us out now.” I tried to intervene for her, “Please excuse her rudeness, she is in shock. But if you will, please provide additional torches for I saw how it recoiled from the fire.”

The warden departed leaving more guards near our cell. Apparently, he had his own medical doctor examining the bodies. Maybe an hour later, tough to tell time without my pocket watch and how the London fog hides the sun, the warden returned with an offer. “This red cloud you saw killed 2 of my guards in another prison area before it escaped into the streets. Which of you is willing to hunt the creature and destroy it? In return, I offer your debt removed and thus your release.” The warden was keen enough to see thru the vailed offers of a few debtors only wanted to be let out so they could escape. But he saw the truth in our offers. Imelda was the first. While see did not help drive the mist away or help others within the cell, she DID want to officially return to her fashion circles with a cleared name. Mary and I too offered for we thought we knew how best to deal with the creature.

And so, the 3 of us were led out of the holding cell and to the warden’s office. As we waited for our belongings to be returned to us, the warden signed letters of release with the caution, “I can just as easily draft new warrants if you fail.” Imelda asked what proof needed. “Silence from the streets that no more red-mist deaths occur. Now be gone. My guards saw the mist drift down the streets to the east.” Mary wise enough to ask, “We have no coins for supplies such as oil lanterns or weapons to fight it.” The warden laughed, “You think I’m going to give prisoners weapons?!” Imelda turned on her charm, “Lanterns will be enough to fight it. And once we vanquish it, you will be known as the hero on the streets. How you sent forces to deal with it.”

It was noon when the prison gate was opened, and we stepped back into the streets of London. Probably 2 hours since we’d encountered the mist in the cell. Guards described it moving “as fast as a man shuffling without care.” Still, long enough time for it to be miles away. No coins for carriage, and Imelda in her fashionable shoes not meant for walking. Our only hope, “Hustle and listen for screams.”

We were barely blocks from the prison when we saw the crowd outside a shop. Mary sensed the people agitated; not so much scared but worked up about something. We found 3 men laying in the streets in front of an Irish Coffee-house. They were in various stages of transformation and the crowd bewildered for they had not seen the attack. “We came across them maybe an hour ago. Talk to the owner inside for she claims to have seem something. And there are 2 more bodies inside.” Sure enough, Maeve described the attack, “A cloud came thru the wall and surrounded them. One then the other, each within minutes, before the thing drifted outside, attacked those other men, then drifted east.”

Out of all the stores and buildings along the street, why this one? Mary suggested to Maeve, “Do you have any enemies? Perhaps you should pack up and move back to Ireland for safety.” [trying to eliminate coffee competition or real concern?] Maeve could only offer, “Some days ago a man ran up a large tab and left without paying.” Meanwhile, I examined the bodies trying to discern a pattern: particular age, gender, health of those attacked? I was baffled. Mary offered a simple reason in that it was feeding.

We continued east and came upon Saint Paul Cathedral where its reverend was preaching upon its steps. Fire and brimstone. “Time is upon us, and the end is near. Repent ye sinners for I have seen the devil and fended him off with my faith and cross as my only weapons.” Clearly seeing his bandaged hand, we approached and learned his attack not more than an hour ago. I convinced him to show me his hand so I could treat but saw the mist’s handiwork [pun?] of old/grey/wrinkled aged skin. The reverend raised his elder hand and pointed, “The devil fled south over the Tower Bridge.” I asked for holy-water just in case it a viable weapon. The reverend offered the women his bible and cross… “carry forth God’s might to slay the devil.”

We continued down the eerie streets bathed in the London fog, fearing how easily the mist could blend in. Streetlamps did little to aid us other than cast a glazed hue upon the streets. A sudden scream guided us onward. Midway across the bridge rose a pile of bodies as if bodies being brought forth from the plague. I’ve never seen such collection. Horror at the thought the red-mist creature could attack so many at once. Yet as we stood and stared, we heard the faintest of sounds within the pile of death. We began pulling bodies off till we uncovered and freed a frail elder woman. Concern at how the creature had transformed her only to realize she untouched. She was already elderly through-and-through.

Mary had to slap the woman to stop her hysteria and tell her story. “I was just sitting on the bench musing about that terrible man, Darius Clay, when I saw him smiling and skipping across the bridge as if not a care in the world. The next thing I see is a cloud that attacked another man walking. Others rushed to his screams before they realized what was happening. The mist hidden in the fog until you are close. I just cowered in fear until you came along.”

None of us had heard the name Darius Clay before, so we asked Eleanor. “Horrible man. Always saying he would lay a curse upon those who wronged him. Yet it is he who wrongs others by leaving a wake of debts wherever he goes. He lives in Southwick Tower. I can show you.” Maybe it was Mary who connected this Darius to the welcher of the coffee-shop. I took pity on the poor woman and plucked coins from the pockets of the deceased to pay her for her troubles. As she led us, I pondered why she had been spared: her age, luck? The grace of God? Eleanor described the man as we walked: short, bald, thin moustache, green eyes. My thoughts wandered to visions of a leprechaun.

We paused before the tower Eleanor pointed to, before climbing the steps to his 3^rd floor room. I listened at the door and heard shuffling inside [Listen- 01]. As if someone moving furniture. I tried the door- unlocked. Looking quizzically at the women for a plan, I staggered in as if drunk finding the man on his hands and knees sliding a floorboard back into place. He rose in protest to my intrusion when Mary entered following suit, “So sorry sir. Me brother… always getting drunk and lost. He does this all the time. Come now Leo, leave the kind man alone.” Darius in protest as he rose to his feet, “I said get out of here now.”

Now I don’t remember which came first. My staggering into Darius and falling where he rose from. Or Imelda entering as if the room to be used for bible study as she held her bible to her chest. “Yes, this will do. We’ll need more chairs and snacks for the children.” She crossed over to the kitchen area searching the cupboard. Which drew Darius to her, protesting louder. Only for Imelda to hand him things she removed from the cupboard shelves, needed for cooking. Distraction for me to search the floor. Where I found the sliding board and a scroll hidden beneath. Mary at my side to help cover my actions. Darius spun to keep sight of everyone, “Begone before I call the police!” Imelda grabbed Darius as she cried, “Please don’t. Leo supports the family. He can’t go to prison again.” Enough distraction and time for me to glance at the scroll written in Greek before stuffing it in my coat. Mary helped me to my feet, and we backed out. Darius slammed and locked the door.

Once out of the building and around a corner, I unrolled the scroll for a closer look. [Greek 40 and Occult 40] I knew enough of the language, and enough threat the spell imposed, to not read it aloud nor in entirety. Enough to realize it a scroll of summoning. I soaked the scroll in lamp oil and was about to put light to it when Imelda stopped me. “What if we need it to put the ‘genie’ back in the bottle?” I hadn’t read the scroll enough to discount that concern.

We were torn between confronting Darius again or calling the police. Mary suggested fetching warden Smith. We hustled back to the bridge where we ran into a ‘bobbie’ to whom Imelda revealed, “Constable, arrest Darius Clay. He’s caused all those murders.” The man surprised, “I arrested him 3 days ago. You mean someone paid his debt and allowed his release?!” The constable knew exactly where the murdered lived and briskly led the way. Up the stairs and pounded on the door, “Darius Clay! Open the door in the name of the law.” But we only heard the man pleading with someone else inside. So, the constable put shoulder to the door to bust it open. Four tries and me helping before the wood gave in.

There, in the middle of the room, stood Darius facing the red-mist, pleading, “Don’t kill me. Kill those I command you to, such as these intruders.” The constable frozen in disbelief. I accused Darius of being a witch. And that’s when the mist enveloped Darius. Only then did the ‘bobbie’ react… and run back out the door. Mary grabbed a candle from a table and raised her cross while Imelda wielded her lantern. Myself? I pulled out the scroll again hoping to find answers in its last sentences. Over Darius’ screams of pain, Mary asked him how to banish the creature. But instead of seeking help, Darius mixed screams of pain with joyous belief, “When we bind, we will destroy this city. The only way to stop us is to kill me first.”

What was said as a boost, became our guidance. Imelda flung her lantern at the intertwined pair, lighting them on fire. I grabbed my tin of extra oil and threw it too, but my aim poor as I only started another fire on the kitchen floor. At least the mist was driven back some but still tried to attack Darius. Believing the scroll still with effect, I touched it to the burning mass, hoping by its burning I’d end the summoning and send the creature back to its hell. And to add to our ‘grabbing for anything’ to combat the mist, Mary set her cross on fire threw it. [Throw-97]. It too starting another fire within the room.

But by now, we saw the mist starting to dissipate. Not receding into the wall, but rather, breaking up and becoming less and less. And that is when we all came to our senses. “FIRE! RUN! Get the other occupants out.” We pounded door after door sounding the alarm. Blaming Darius for the fire. The other dwellers knew the man horrible and thus our story believable. We disappeared into the growing crowd and let the homeless residents blame Darius.

We ran for a little while before exhaustion and loss of that adrenaline rush slowed us. Originally, we intended to return to the prison to tell the warden. But now that we stopped, we re-thought our plan. We had release papers in hand. No need to return. We said goodbyes and went our separate ways.

EPILOGUE

Warden Smith looked out his window at the smoke rising to the southeast. It wasn’t long before news reached him of the fire. And a scared constable came forth telling him about Darius Clay and the attempted arrest. Accusations Darius responsible for the fire and the deaths around the city. The next day’s newspaper heralded Warden Smith responsible for leading the hunt for the killer and bringing justice and peace to the city.

BACKGROUND

Darius was arrested and placed in prison days ago. Where he attempted to summon the creature. When nothing appeared, he thought he failed. Rather, the creature’s appearance was just delayed. And followed the scent of its summoner at a leisurely pace, enacting its feeding.

Darius Clay, a cultist to Yog-Sothoth, summoned an aberrant monster, part of the extra-dimensional space itself where Yog-Sothoth resides. The being—or beings, rather— The Korgómin… is composed of billions of pink, microscopic organisms that feed off of its prey’s past and future. The Korgómin appears as a red mist that gently hangs in the air—until it attacks. When consuming prey, they literally eat the days the subject has lived, along with the potential days their life once held.