Götterdämmerung (7 page)

Eun saw all of this and lowered his shoulder, driving like a football player straight into the side of one of the monsters. It drove the beast into the one next to him and both toppled over. The young Korean spun about just in time to catch the arm of his own enemy, the claws of which had been just about to descend in a killing blow. “Not trying to rush you, Lazarus, but this isn’t going well!”

Lazarus heard his friend’s cry but he couldn’t move any faster than he already was. The air around The Unnervum was as thick as molasses and every step he took required a tremendous burst of strength. It seemed to take forever before his outstretched hand seized the crystal ball and yanked it off the pedestal.

That simple action had an immediate effect. The creatures that had been bedeviling his companions vanished as suddenly as they had appeared. The strange energy distortion that had surrounded The Unnervum was gone, as well.

But the worst of it was what was happening to Lazarus. He screamed, a soul-rending sound that was unlike anything his friends had ever heard from him before. They stared in horror as he fell to his knees, the strange crystal ball held tightly against his chest. His eyes were open but they were completely white, with no sign of the mismatched green and brown orbs that they were normally.

Samantha rushed to his side but she was prevented from reaching out to him by Catalyst, who swept her up into his arms.

“No! Do not touch him! We have to trust him to come through this on his own!”

“But what’s happening to him?”

“He’s communing with The Unnervum. It’s showing him something. I don’t know what it is but we have to pray that it’s going to help us get some answers.”

* * *

The mind and soul of Lazarus Gray were now some place beyond the mortal realm.

He stood before a lake of some kind but it was not water that lapped at the shore. It was thick and pus-like, with an odor that reminded Lazarus of an open sore. The sky was a muddy brown color and was completely featureless. The landscape was cracked and dry, with only a few dead trees to be seen.

Standing on the other side of the lake, far enough away that some aspects of his appearance were uncertain but close enough that Lazarus knew their voices would carry, was a man. He was dark-skinned in a swarthy way and he wore a suit of the darkest ebony. Indeed, parts of the fabric seemed to writhe and turn like a living thing, flickering at the edges.

“Where am I?” Lazarus asked. His words echoed loudly in the silent realm.

“You are in The Void,” the man replied and his words were oddly accented. Was he from the Middle East? Lazarus wasn’t sure. “And I am known by many names, some of which would be quite familiar to you. Suffice to say that I am oft-times a messenger and other times a delegate of greater influence. My masters… many of them are sleeping and others are quite far away.” The figure laughed softly. “It is good that you have come to me, Lazarus Gray, for my physical shell has been recently broken and I am banished from the world of man for a time.”

“Are you behind the suicides?”

“Not I. That honor belongs to Darhoth, she who is sometimes called The Mother of Pus. She has recently become aware of her surroundings once more and her awakening has set off psychic tidal waves that have touched your home city.”

Lazarus filed away that name in his mental inventory, knowing that he’d have to do some research. “I want it to stop,” he said.

“I imagine you do.” The dark figure moved slightly closer. “Things will calm down now that Mother is awake. She is on the move, you see, and will take precautions to ensure that no one will be able to track her. This will result in fewer sensitives reacting to her presence.”

“What does she want?”

“The same thing any Old One wants… chaos, disorder, death and suffering. The standbys.”

“You need to tell her that I’ll destroy her before I let her succeed at any of those things.”

A burst of laughter answered that declaration. “I like you, Mr. Gray. You remind me of The Peregrine in that both of you are so utterly confident in your abilities that you don’t even stop to look at things from afar. My associates are ancient beings. They were here long before any of your kind had slithered from the primordial ooze that birthed you. They will be here long after humanity is a forgotten relic of another time. Even if you defeat us today, what does that matter? We look at things in a far different way than you do.”

“If we defeat you today, we force you to wait… and then someone else can do the same. I don’t see a problem with that.”

“Of course you don’t.” The stranger waved a hand. “Whatever. I will make sure she knows your name and the nature of your threat. I plan to give her fair warning about all your associates, everyone who will come to take part in this league of heroes that you’re going to assemble.”

Again, Lazarus found the information he was being given quite interesting. Was this man referring to Assistance Unlimited, The Peregrine and Catalyst? Or were there more to come?

“You said you had many names but you still haven’t given me a single one,” he pointed out, hoping to draw out more useful facts.

“You may as well call me Nyarlathotep, Mr. Gray. That’s the name that your friend The Peregrine knows me by. Given our recent history, he might find it interesting—and, no doubt, a bit disturbing—to know that you’ve spoken to me today.”

A stirring in the lake of pus made Lazarus pause. He saw the thick liquid part and several tentacles rose up from below. The thick limbs swayed in the air, shifting to and fro like the head of a snake, before sinking back out of sight.

Lazarus suddenly felt dizzy. He swayed on his feet and his vision grew dim. Nyarlathotep’s voice reached his ears, sounding tinny and far away. “Take care, Mr. Gray. I’ll pass your words on to Darhoth, as I promised.”

Suddenly, Lazarus was back in the real world, once more occupying his physical form. He sat up quickly, immediately recognizing that he was back at Robeson Avenue, stretched out on a couch. Surrounding him, with concerned etched on their faces, was not only Catalyst and the members of Assistance Unlimited, but the masked vigilante known as The Peregrine.

Without any preamble, Lazarus looked into the eyes of Max Davies and said one word: “Nyarlathotep.”

CHAPTER VI

You Are Cordially Invited To Meet Mr. Death

Berlin

Heinrich Himmler offered only the most perfunctory of salutes as he strode through the halls of the Occult Forces Project. As soon as word had reached him that the Schneider Expedition—or what was left of it—had returned, he had grabbed a car and sped through the city.

At any point, he had dozens of important projects with which to occupy himself but he had taken a particular interest in this one. Dieter Schneider was a genius and if he could prove his beliefs, it could mean a tremendous benefit to the OFP from both a propaganda standpoint and from a financial one. The funding would obviously begin rolling in and then Himmler’s attempts to create super soldiers would be all the better.

To his surprise, he found Schneider in one of the experimental labs. The man’s daughter—a fine-looking specimen of Aryan womanhood, Himmler thought—and Lars Hansel were both alongside the professor. Several of the OFP’s top scientists were eagerly studying some sort of mucous-like fluid that was held in a beaker. Their excitement was so great that it wasn’t until Himmler cleared his throat that anyone even took notice of him. The man holding the beaker—Otto Luther, Himmler remembered—looking almost guilty as he brought the container tight against his chest.

Dispensing with pleasantries, Himmler acknowledged Lars with a quick nod of his head and then strode straight up to Dieter. “Welcome back, Herr Schneider! I am sorry to see that your party suffered such severe losses but I am hopeful that their sacrifices were not in vain.”

“I have good and bad news, I am afraid,” Dieter replied. Himmler noticed that the man looked slimmer than he remembered and his eyes were fearful and constantly in movement.

Himmler frowned and gestured for the man to continue. “Start with the bad news, if you would.”

“We did not find Valhalla… but we did find something that I think will prove to be even better.” Dieter gestured to the scientists, who were still staring at the strange fluid in the beaker. “I have brought this substance which can be used to create more soldiers for our war. It has an amazing effect on human flesh, mutating it in surprising ways and making it much more durable.”

“Interesting. And where did you find this… substance?”

“It came from a creature called Darhoth. She is an ancient entity devoted to chaos and bloodshed. She and her agent, Vulthar, returned with me.” He pointed towards the creature that wore his daughter’s face. “This is not Sonya. This is Darhoth, the Mother of Pus. Likewise, Lars is no longer with us. His body is being used as a living host for Vulthar.”

Himmler paused, thinking for a moment that perhaps Schneider had gone mad. But he had seen far too many amazing things in recent years to discount the story, particularly if his scientists were that enthused by the substance that had been brought back.

Turning his attention to the woman that resembled Sonya, he asked, “And is this true? You’re some sort of… alien creature?”

Darhoth grinned and the expression sent a chill down Himmler’s spine. It looked hideous, as if the entity had no true conception of what a smile should look like. “I am here to make your kind bleed and scream.” She reached out and touched Himmler’s cheek, her fingers feeling cold and clammy. “But I will give you and your master so much power in return for your service. You will not need fear me… not yet.”

Himmler reached up and seized her by the wrist, squeezing it tight. “You are mistaken. The Füehrer does not serve anyone besides the Fatherland. If you are what you say you are, then you will bow down before him, not the other way around!”

“Herr Himmler,” Dieter whispered, looking frantic. “Please. I know how it sounds but I would caution you to show respect.”

Himmler released his hold on Sonya’s wrist and stepped back, looking at her with disgust. “You need to remind your daughter of the same.”

Darhoth snorted in an unladylike fashion. Her right hand shot out with lightning speed, wrapping about the neck of the nearest scientist. Within seconds, the man’s skin began to crumble and shrink, until at last it fell away from the bone. His clothing fell to the floor amid dust and skeletal remains.

With the exception of Dieter and Vulthar, everyone else reacted with horror. The remaining scientists looked ready to bolt while Himmler himself uttered an exclamation that reflected his absolute shock.

“I can do that to you, too, Herr Himmler,” Darhoth warned. “But I do not want to. I want to help your precious Füehrer and in return, I want him to help me achieve my own goals. Our ends do not have to be at odds. Do you understand?”

Himmler took a moment to compose himself. When he spoke again, he tried to inject a sense of power into his voice but he failed somewhat. Unlike the Füehrer, he was not a natural ruler of men. “I will have to speak to the Füehrer about this. In the meantime, I would appreciate it if you could give more of that… fluid… to my men so that we may study it.”

Darhoth nodded, seemingly satisfied that her point had been made. She kicked at the dead man’s skull that lay at her feet. “The substance is my saliva, Herr Himmler. I have plenty more where that came from.”

She strode past the scientists, who gave her ample space to do so, and seized another beaker. Her tongue extended and several thick globs of liquid slowly dripped from its tip, oozing down into the container. Himmler found himself oddly aroused by the sight and he forced himself to look away lest he lose himself in the moment.

Dieter stepped towards Himmler and whispered, “I know how terrifying it may seem but her power… it is immense. Surely we can find a way to use it for our own ends.”

“Yes. And when all is said and done, we can dispense with her,” Himmler said, trying to think as Hitler would.

Dieter did not reply to that. He had seen enough of The Mother of Pus to know that it would take far more than anything the Nazis had to stop her if she succeeded in summoning more of her ilk. His soul was bound to her, however, and if push came to shove, he would not hesitate to stand at her side.

He had no choice, after all.

* * *

Atlanta

Nimrod cleaned the wound in his shoulder and hissed as the alcohol he’d poured over it sizzled and burned. He was furious to admit that The Peregrine had gotten the best of him. That had never happened before and it put his hard-earned reputation at risk.

Sighing, Nimrod looked around his apartment and wondered what he should do. He’d taken most of his earnings in recent years and put them right back into his operation, building up a network of informants and spies who kept tabs on various vigilantes. That was part of the way he was able to track them and observe their abilities. As such, he was still forced to live in rather squalid conditions despite his success. The days of being able to retire and enjoy his earnings still lay in the future. Being a cape-killer was expensive, he’d learned.

The payday for taking out The Peregrine would have gone a long way towards achieving his goals. He planned to retire to some Caribbean island, where he’d spend his days drinking expensive booze and having sex with brown-skinned native girls.

“But first I have to pull this off,” he murmured. He sat down next to his room’s phone and buzzed the operator, asking to be connected to a long-distance number. The man he was calling was based in Sovereign City, a town that had even more vigilante problems than Atlanta.

Within a moment, a gruff voice answered and Nimrod said, “It’s me, Fritz. The Peregrine got away from me and I’m laid up right now. I was wondering if you could give me an advance—”

Nimrod’s lips tightened as he heard the other man’s reply: “You have tried to play us for fools. We hired you to kill The Peregrine but you took a similar contract from the mob in Atlanta.”

“Both of you wanted the same thing. No reason why I shouldn’t get paid by both.”