Cthulhu Armageddon by C. T. Phipps

Author:C. T. Phipps [Phipps, C. T.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, post-apocalyptic western
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2016-08-22T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eighteen

For a brief moment, I was aware of my present state in my flashback. The discovery that Peter Goodhill was a servant of Ward made me think about my encounter with him in Richard’s garage. Peter working for “The Necromancer” explained a great deal, from his unusual friendliness to why he’d suddenly decided to join the Dunwych after a post-desertion career of self-serving behavior: Peter was nothing more than a plant by the old sorcerer-scientist.

Peter was a means for Ward to gain information on any plots the Dunwych might be formulating against him. Any guilt I felt towards nearly beating Peter to death evaporated, replaced only by the regret that I’d not finished the job. I had precious little time to think on the revelation because my memories resumed with a feverish dream-like quality.

I remembered being punished for my almost successful assassination of the insane scientist. Doctor Ward was a master of inflicting ungodly pain upon a human body. When he was not doing so, bizarre medical tests involving injections and spell-work were performed.

I had read encounters of encounters with “Grays” and the Plutonian Mi-Go species, where men were abducted and subjected to traumatizing scientific experiments. Those stories were the closest thing I could think of to compare my experience to. Blessedly, Ward feared me so much that he kept me doped up on a cocktail of drugs so strong I could barely feel much of what I endured.

There were other things too, things I could barely recall because Ward began to experiment with possession. Scattered images filled my head of elaborate gladiator contests. Battles where he wore my body like a suit, using golden revolvers to fight various monsters of his own creation.

I vaguely recalled Jessica fighting in these contests as well, something which only increased my hatred of Ward. I took no pleasure in the victories I remembered; each one signaled the Doctor gaining a greater control over my form. It was close to eight days before I regained control of my body. It took that long for the drugs to pass from my system and to recover enough mental strength to drive Ward’s presence from my mind.

I could not say for certain what gave me the willpower to perform this feat. I believe, in part, it had to do with my desire to protect my family and see again those I loved. Also was my care for my surviving squad mate, Jessica, and the knowledge a terrible fate awaited her were I not to break free.

When it finally happened, primordial scream escaped my lungs, filling the room. “Ahhhhhh!”

A female voice whispered in my ear, “It’s alright, John. I’m here.”

I did not immediately look to the source, instead taking in the chamber around me. I was in a dungeon, a genuine one unlike the laboratory I’d been imprisoned in before. The room was surprisingly spacious, albeit filthy. I was in a single large chamber with a row of iron bars separating it from rows of similar chambers outside.

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