Astanael

Tag: Terror

  • Terror on the Orient-Express
    William Wellington

    January the 6th, 1923, Lausanne (Switzerland)

    The door bell rang downstairs. Edward get up of his chair and said :
    – Pleas excuse me for a moment, I was expecting someone that you might want to meet too. I’ll be right back.
    The moment Edgar left the small and cumbered kitchen, a large man came in, opened a shelve, took a bottle and sat at the table. There was a long awkward silence, only ruptured by the noise of James that fled to the stairs, causing no reaction from the giant whatsoever.
    Henry tried a “hello” and some other greetings, only getting back a long and uncomfortable blank stare. Choura joined in, but after a few pointless minutes of one-sided conversation there was still no response. The colossus took a notebook and painstakingly started to wrote some words, then proceeded to show them to Henry.

    “Today is good day. Hello. Nice to meat you.”

    Henry shivers. Not because of the strange words, or the creepy typo. But because he saw now clearly the broken face of the giant as he lean into the faint light. Steel plaques hastily screwed to the skull, complete facial paralysis, deformed skull… He began to saw a story, the horrible tale of a victim of the great war, scorched by hellfire, shrapnel-mutilated and hastily repaired by a tired field surgeon in some god forsaken mud-filled trenches.

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
    Excerpt from the Terror on the Orient-Express Chaosium Call of Cthulhu RPG campaign

  • Terror on the Orient-Express
    A New player

    January the 6, 1923, Lausanne.
    06:45 am.

    Upon descending the Orient-Express, a cold fog grasped the four friends. pushing them to an open cafe just near the station. The bartender let them stack their heavy pile of luggage in a corner while waiting for the Grand Hotel carrier. They ordered a large breakfast, complete with chocolate dipped croissants, milked cafe, tea and a huge assortment of sweets and little Swiss chocolate squares. This warm and cozy pause is much welcome after such a journey, and the silence of morning in Lausanne was a bliss after the loud aver lasting ambient noise of the train.

    Aaah silence thought Henry… only troubled by the delicate tingling of faience, the song of a lonely bird and the strident screeches of car tires drifting upon snowed pavement.

    From across the place, a vehicle suddenly appears, coming from one the adjacent streets, probably leading down to the Lake. The car literally jumped in the air, and flew for what seemed an eternity before landing brusquely and starting drifting, closing in dangerously to the cafe, only stopping just a few meters before reaching the vitrine.

    Cihat was already up and ready to drag Choura away, when he felt the tight grip of the old russian on his arm. Choura was livid, and so was Carl. They were both looking intensely at the conductor of that just stepped outside of his vehicle.

    – Oscar ? He’s alive !? How could it be ?
    – No, that’s not him. Maybe… James ? His brother, the race pilot ? Oscar told me once about him, but how… ?

    The newcomer went straight for them, his fist tightly clenched. Behind him, the car was still smoking and clanking. On the passenger seat, what seemed like the real owner was livid and still hanging onto his seat as if his life depended on it. Something told Carl James Couteau has not bought the official story of the Lhassa meteor that cost the life of Oscar. This will be a hard and long talk. 

    Pencil doodle on A6 sketchbook
    Excerpt from the Terror on the Orient-Express Chaosium Call of Cthulhu RPG campaign