Pyrrhic Kingdom by Keith D. Jones

Author:Keith D. Jones
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf
Tags: Stormsdream, Shakespeare, Lovecraft, Macbeth, Cthulhu, Contemporary Fantasy, Horror
Publisher: Stormsdream
Published: 2013-06-26T16:00:00+00:00

They sat at one end of the table, watching him. Pale faces as if it was their blood that had been used to stain the sheets and soak the bed. Old table of polished wood. They had eaten off of it only the night before. Now, they sat huddled around one end. As far from the kitchen door as they could reach. Andrew sat facing them. His arms and elbows resting on the table as if pressing it to the ground.

“I'm sorry,” he said, looking past them at the wall. “What did you say your names were again?”

“We could sit here going round and round,” one of them said. Dark hair. Thin face grown soft. Glasses. Frightened eyes.

“And, I still wouldn't know who you were. Much less remember.”

“We could still involve the police,” another one said. Graying, unshaven whiskers. Big ears. Big nose. Bloodshot eyes.

“Oh, do that,” Andrew said. “Let's bring those idiots into it. Mucking about in our affairs. The press following after. Is that what you want? Secret society exposed? How long before the first one called us quacks?”

“As if we could stop them.”

“Which is exactly what we will do. As I said, we release a statement. Tragic passing. Sudden stroke. Heart attack. Wife in mourning. Seclusion.”

“Think they'll believe that?”

“We've never cooperated with the police before, and we're not about to start. You.” Pointed at the graying unshaven beard. “Matthew. Malcolm. Whatever you said your name was.”

“Marcus.”

“Said you were a doctor, yes? Know people around here? Can attest to cause of death?”

“Yes.”

“Then, you'll prepare the proper paperwork. Death certificate.”

“I've never falsified a certificate before.”

“Never?”

“Never.”

Andrew watched him as if he expected at any moment to burst out laughing.

“Given the things we do?” Andrew said. “Our calling?”

“Never had to explain away a man's death at the hands of his fellow man before.”

“It's much the same thing, I'm sure.”

“They were monsters.”

“If thinking so will make you happy.”

“You're still assuming we will do what you ask,” the thin man said behind his glasses.

Andrew studied his face. Slowly. As if memorizing every angle and jagged edge.

“It's Alex. Arthur. Andrew. Arthur, isn't it?”

“Yes.”

“Arthur,” he said as if gathering his thoughts from the depths of time. “We are a very old company, and our ways are sacred to us. Handed down by God himself.”

“God did not intend us to murder each other in our beds.”

“He did, in fact.”

“Do not jest. Do not mock us. Our ways are old as time, and you will respect them.”

“I honor them.”

“Then how can you sit there-”

“Douglas did not honor our ways.”

They watched him as if he was mad.

“Douglas took people out of the field.” Returned their looks with unblinking eyes. “Surrounded himself with consultants and researchers. Starved the field teams. Let the darkness grow.”

“What are we without knowledge?” Another one. Balding. Pudgy fingers. No longer thin.

“Knowledge from the field.”

“We cannot forsake the past.” Desperate eyes. “Field reports. Research. Quantified. Yields perspective.”

“How many incursions in the last six months?”

Silence.

“Reports? Sightings? Mystery circles? How many?” They watched him. “Six, at least. And, we don't even know if it is a swarm.

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