This story takes place in the United States in 2010, however this is an alternate timeline. In the year 2000, an underground eldritch cult, based in northern California, succeeded in tearing a hole in reality and bringing forth unnamed horrors from dimensions far, far, far beyond comprehension. In the ten years since then, nearly all of humanity has either joined the cults in service to the unholy masters that now roam the darkest places on Earth or been erased from existance.
You are one of the last survivors of humanity, living in one of the few untouched/protected areas. It is a fortified mountain town in the Rockies, with about three hundred citizens, all armed to the teeth, living life in constant fear of the abyssal creatures and depraved humans that now stalk the globe. Your name is Castle. Originally from London, you were on a family vacation in America to celebrate the new millenium when the first rift occurred. You were only eight at the time, so you didn't really realize what was going on. By the time you figured out something was wrong, your parents had already been murdered by cultists. You managed to hide away, using your small size in order to fit places most adults couldn't. You wound up in this town with a group of refugees a few years back, and have lived there ever since.
Life has been tough. Not only have you grown up an orphan, but you've also been taken far away from home. Also, you're fairly sure you're the last hipster left on the planet. Your dry sarcasm and bitter cynicism has left you with little friends in the mountain town, now called Freedom, Oregon.
It's your birthday. You're turning 18 today, that means you get to go on a foraging mission for the first time. You've crossed town to the giant front gates of the wall, crafted from salvaged metal from cars, trucks and aeroplanes. There are three other young men in the group, as well as the beared, gruff middle aged leader of the group, Smilin Jack. You've always liked Smilin Jack, because he never smiles. In fact, of all the citizens of Freedom, he's about the meanest sonofabitch around. Right now he's dressed up in a military flak jacket and pants, with large Army boots. He's holding an old hunting rifle in his hands, and has several huge knives tucked away in his belt. The other boys are all wearing leather jackets with footpall pads, or shinguards and hiking boots, holding switchblades or pipes. You stroll into the circle of them, smirking. The mood is tense. Jack takes one look at you and starts cursing.
"Oh for fucks sake..." he says. "Are you trying to die? This is not the time, nor the place to be dressing like an ANOREXIC GIRL!!"
You shrug. You dressed up as best as you could for the hunt. You're wearing your tight grey jeans, black converse high tops, a blue plaid shirt and a fedora. You even went so far as to bring a baseball bat!
"Well fine, Castle." Jack says, seething. "But if you get hurt out there, you will find NO pity here." he sighs. "Alright boys, come on in."
The other three boys step forward nervously.
"As you know, we're goin' out there to get some food for our village. This means that yer gonna have to leave the safety of yer mamas tits and be a man for once in your sissy little lives. I don't know why I always have to take the newbies out for their first runs, but I do. I hate it, and I hate you. This ain't gonna be fun, and it ain't gonna be safe. In fact, I reckon at least two of you are probably gonna die."
The other boys glance around with fear.
"The thing we're hunting is called a Ghost." Jack continues. "Any of ya ever seen a panther before?"
One of the boys nods
"And what did it look like?"
The boy starts stuttering "It's a... a... b-big.. c-c-cat?"
"Sure. A panther is just one big 'ol pussycat. 'Cept it's got fangs and claws and could break yer neck with one crunch. Now, for you little girls that's probably pretty scary already. A Ghost is like a panther, cept it ain't got no fur, and it has a looong arm on its back with a human hand and four yellow eyes that can see every single muscle in your body twitch. It's got teeth longer than yer puny little forearms, and its claws could tear right through yer bones." He pauses for dramatic effect. Good 'ol Smilin Jack. "But that ain't the worst part. Oh no. This thing's one of them demons. That means its got a whole slew of tricks up its disgusting sleeves. I ain't gonna say this more than once, so listen up: These things can distort your vision by making eye contact with you. You will see them two feet to the right of where they actually are, and you will swing at the wrong place and then you will DIE. So don't look in their eyes, and if you do. Swing. Right."
There is silence.
"Hahaha, well let's go find us some dinner!"
Jack signals a watchman sitting on top of a lookout tower on the gate. The watchman nods and starts turning a crank, opening up the main gates. Jack walks out the gates, and you follow. The gates seal behind you.
"Welcome to Hell, boys" Jack says.
You follow him for an hour, scouring the mountain for any signs of life. The trees are shrubs that litter the mountainside are strange and warped, having been touched by the insane miasma that covers the world. Suddenly, Jack stops in his tracks. He pulls out his rifle and begins to whisper.
"There... Can you boys see it?" He says, pointing to a small space in the distance. Lying on a rock in the distance is a fleshy, disgusting quadruped. It has a swishing tail, but even more creepy, a swishing arm on top of its back. It appears to be sleeping.
"Well... This is yer boys' hunt... Go ahead and figure out how to kill it. I'll be sitting here waiting."
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Okay so this is a game where you all make suggestions for Castle. The story I have vaguely planned was inspired by Cthulhutech. Look it up, it's rad. Anyway, go ahead and let's ROLL.
Author
Topic: Eldritch Irony (Read 2823 times)