Cross and Miskatonic University: Weakness


I have returned home to war.

I’ve been in the Pacific for a bit of time, fighting the Japanese and, if I’m to be honest with myself, enjoying my time immensely. Oh, I’ve drifted home every so often, checking on the town and my lands. Making sure nothing has gotten too out of hand.

I’ve returned to what I thought was peace and quiet, but I should have known better.

I expected a bit of the same – nonsense from the Hollow and perhaps one or two incursions by those in charge of Miskatonic University. What I did not expect, however, was the all-out assault on my person.

The men who sit on the board of directors at the university know me too well, I’m afraid. They know that I am far older than I seem and that I am, by my nature, bound to protect this place.

And so they set a trap for me.

One that nearly succeeded. Had they used fire instead of an explosive, they might certainly have ended me.

Instead, they made me angry.

They have gone from being a nuisance to something that needs to be eradicated.

It was the Fey who told me about the trapped child in the abandoned house on Coffin Road. They didn’t know there was anything wrong with the place. Why would they? They are unfamiliar with explosives.

I made all haste to the building, and when I drew near to it, I heard the voice of a child. The fear in the child’s voice was not feigned, nor was it a recording.

I did not think the house was a trap.

I did not think those at Miskatonic would use a child as bait.

But they did.

When I opened the door and stepped into the building, I saw the hole into which the child had fallen, heard its pleas, and when I moved in swiftly, I triggered the device.

I was wounded, painfully so, but what is far worse is that the child was killed.

It took me several hours to crawl out from beneath the rubble. Hours in which I heard the board members of Miskatonic congratulate themselves on the removal of my person.

In the morning, I’m going to hunt them down, one by one, and punish them.

Oh, what they’ve got coming.

#horror #fear

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Nicholas Efstathiou

Husband, father, and writer.

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