CinePlex 12

Hello Dear Readers,

After the encounter with Horatio Grey at the train yard, I decided to take some time off and re-evaluate my approach to uncovering the unknown and the effect it has the new network of friends I’ve been building.  Unfortunately fate had other ideas!

I decided to go see a movie.  A favorite American pastime!  (Suzie, remember when we used to sneak out to the movies after Mom and Dad passed out on NyQuil?). Kevin's Crossing has a small art-house movie theater with only one screen.  But it has such a long and dark history that I thought I would save it for another day.  There is a twelve-screen multiplex over in Telford, so I took three buses and arrived at the gleaming edifice of plaster and neon lights.  On the bus ride over I made an effort to count the graffiti I saw.  The ‘Shh’ graffiti seems to be waning currently, which is a good sign for the people of Kevin's Crossing, but I bad sign for me and my handful of readers.

Also, I've begun taking the flashlight with the mystery bulb with me wherever I go.  It has yet to have any result, but I await the opportunity to try it on the ‘ not a real cat’.  I can feel it's presence, lurking just outside of view.

But I digress.  I arrived at the movie theater late in the evening and purchased a ticket for whichever movie started next.  Once inside I purchased a large popcorn and box of sno-caps from a disinterested teenager.  I then followed the number on my ticket to the corresponding theater.  On my way, I stopped in a restroom and saw what I believe to be a crude illustration of Jak-Jak urinating.  While Jak-Jak is a cultural stable in Newton, this is the first time I’ve seen his influence outside of town.  Interesting.

I entered the theater and sat and the middle and enjoyed my candy as I waited for the movie to start.  As I waited for the previews I noticed the handful of other patrons in the theater had all nodded off in their seats.  At the time I attributed this to the opioid epidemic that is plaguing small towns across the country.  But then I began to experience a tingling sensation deep in my pineal gland.  I looked at my watch and noticed that it was past the start to of the movie, but the screen was still blank.  I wrapped my fingers around the flashlight in my pocket but continued to munch my popcorn.

Then like clockwork, two entities drifted in from opposite sides of the theater and paused in front of the screen, about ten feet apart.  I looked around the room but everyone else was still suspiciously unconscious.  I could tell instantly that I was in the presences of primordial furies.  Neat!

The entity on the left was a gaunt figure with grey skin and no clothing except for a hood.  From its outstretched arms hung several censers on chains.  The chains hung from rings that were embedded in the withered flesh of its forearms.  They swung about as it gestured, filling the room with a heady incense.  On the sides of its face were blue sigils that I couldn’t quite make out in dim light.

The entity on the right was hunched and covered in a tattered cloak.  “Open wider,” it gargled.  The voice sounded like a faraway echo.

“We are here to discuss the possibility of renegotiating the terms of the Treaty of 1887, yes.  As agreed upon during the Treaty of 1887, yes.  We have met in a neutral location, outside the contested area, yes.”

“The floodgates open,”

“The observer is not here yet, no.  We can not begin until all the conditions are meant, no.  And that one,” it pointed a long pointy finger directly at me but did not turn.  I’m glad I did not get a soda, or I would have peed myself, “is not unaware, like the others.

“Tainted by her glands” rumbled hunched figure.

“It is, yes.  It has peeled back the veil and been washed in the light, yes.  It shall serve as the observer, yes.”

“The flow is unabated”

“Let us begin, yes. You represent the Dwellers Below and I represent the Consortium of the Screaming Skies and Whispered Rooms, yes?”  Dwellers below?  I wondered, my excitement growing.  Could this entity have some connection to the tribes below?  Or whatever unnamed beings inhabited the supposed tunnels beneath Kevin’s Crossing?

And could the Screaming Skies be the sound of metal scraping against metal?  Whispered Rooms, like ‘Shhh’?

“The blade is honed,”

“Then let us begin, yes.”

The thing on the right rose up in anticipation.  “We reject your offer to renegotiate the terms, yes,” the thing on left said.  The thing on the right hissed and shuddered violently.  I remembered the flashlight in my pocket.  I began to inch it out of my pocket.  Suddenly the heads of the sleeping patrons in the movie theater rolled back, jaws slack.  They spoke as one, but clearly.  It was not the people themselves who were speaking to me.  “That would not be a good idea.  You’ve already seen too much.  Your mind would be flayed on the yowling void of existence”.  I put the flashlight back in my pocket.

“Open wider,” the Representative of the Dwellers Below repeated.

“You have nothing of value this time, no.  You have no leverage, no.  The conditions of the treaty will stay in place as they are until the next agreed upon review, yes,” said the Representative of the Screaming Skies and Whispered Rooms. The thing on the right shook so hard that I thought it would fall apart.  A burbling noise, like water bubbling through rocks, came from it.  “You knowingly agreed to these terms, yes.  You were warned that your chances of success were very unlikely, yes.  And your takeover failed, yes.  Now you must live with the conditions, yes.”

“Mountains become dust.”

“That may be, yes.  But not today, no.”  The Representative on the right vanished.   Gone, like someone had turned on a lamp, dispelling a shadow.  The gaunt figure remained.  It pointed another long finger at me.

All the heads rolled back again, mouths slack, and spoke.

“You will serve as a living record, yes.  You will be paid for services rendered, yes.”

Paid?  I wondered.  As if this barely describable experience wasn’t already payment enough.  Then it too was gone.  The heads of the people in the theater hung at their chests.

After several minutes they began to wake and the movie began.  The people seemed none the wiser to what had just occurred.  Instead of staying, I decided to make my exit and get so fresh air.  I had finished the popcorn and shoved the sno-caps into a jacket pocket.  I had already gotten a far better show than any movie could provide.

I exited the building and walked across the street, heading nowhere in particular.  I wondered what I had just observed.  Two entities of unknown origins decided to discuss that terms of an agreement that was based on the outcome of something that had happened 1887.  What had happened in 1887?  And why didn’t I fall asleep like the rest of the people in the theater?  And why did that make me a candidate to be the observer?  Why was an observer necessary?  And most exciting of all, what would I be paid for my services.  I could hardly wait!

Again, I feel as if I have gotten a large piece of the puzzle.  The pictures on the pieces seemed to go together, but the shapes don’t match at all.  I will have to remain vigilant. I must find out what went on in Kevin’s Crossing/Newton in 1887.

Then I saw an odd sight.  Trapped inside a parked car was a tabby cat with the diamond shaped tag hanging from its collar.  It was pawing frantically at the window trying to escape.  It was looking in the direction of the theater.  I walked over to it and pulled the flashlight from my pocket and pointed it at the ‘not a real cat’.  It withdrew from the window and tried to hide.  I sighed and put the flashlight away.

“You’re too late, it’s already over.  But I covered for you,” I told the ‘not a real cat’.  It looked at me for a moment, then began to paw at the window again.  I tried car’s door and it popped open.  The ‘not a real cat’ leaped from the car and shot across the street towards the theater.  Next time I see that ‘not a real cat’ I'm gonna have questions.

I headed toward the bus station as I wondered what possible gift I would receive from an unknowable eldritch abomination.  Bitcoins?  Neat!

I’ll keep you updated.