Shadow Man [Anderson]

Subject: Shadow Man [Anderson] Sun Feb 03, 2013 11:40 pm

note - annamaria is an npc used for the purpose of this target thread

The skies hovering over the city of Bologna were cool and heeding of rain, but never showing for it. The air was humid, but otherwise the sidewalks and roads were dry, with most of the citizenry preparing for a downpour and bracing against the slightest chill. Despite the gloomy weather, people were still out and about, clustering at the Piazzo Maggiore around its Neptune Fountain, touring the Two Towers and visiting the Basilica di San Petronio. In a less clustered area of town, Annamaria stood outside a moderate white building, an obviously restored piece of older Italian architecture fashioned into a home-business combination. The Hotel Cervo Bianco was fresh to open, but there was... an issue.

The old hotel was once a home with an extensive wine cellar underneath it. The cellar was rarely used... and for good reason. The initial activity started just over a year ago, but it was nothing too particularly worrisome. By Paranormal standards, it just appeared to be harmless poltergeist mischief. It never went beyond the floor hatch that lead down underneath the home, so the woman never figured to do anything about it. As the months went by, however, staff that were asked to go down into the cellar either refused or quit after performing their task within.

Even more recently, a worker came up pale and horrified, with rather large scratch marks covering his back. Staff began quitting left and right, and with her growing business beginning to crumble just before it could start, Annamaria decided to go down into the cellar herself. She came back running, with three lacerations running across her face, bleeding profusely. She locked up the cellar, and didn't go near the hatch for a good month. She was quick to call a team of paranormal investigators, and just hours into the investigation, she was pointed towards the church, and she soon came across a number that directed her to Iscariot. She specifically asked to send the best they had, that she would pay everything she had for their help.

She stood now awaiting this man's arrival, the one who would get rid of the creature in her cellar and thus, saving her business. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her, in a dress, soft face scarred and tense with anxiety. She feared for her own safety as well as that of this exorcist.

Guest

Across the street from the humble hotel, an unassuming taxi pulled up to the curb and came to a gentle stop. Darkened windows hampered the view into the car's interior but trace silhouettes of the two occupants could be glimpsed by those looking with a keen eye. Payment apparently settled, the rear passenger door opened and the entire car shrugged as a great weight left it. A white gloved hand gripped the top of the door frame and the passenger pulled himself out of the car, towering above the vehicle and any pedestrian passersby. The tanned priest nodded to the cab driver and shut the door. A moment later the cab was gone, leaving only the priest who made his way across the street towards the hotel and the scarred woman awaiting his arrival. In his left hand he held a small black leather bag but that was all that could be said for luggage. Evidently, he didn't intend to be here long.

Standing before the woman that had sought out the help of the Church, the clergyman bowed his head in greeting. "Mah name es Father Anderson. Ah've been told tha' yer in need uv an exorcism. Tell me miss, whit exactly seems tae be tha problem?" the Iscariot inquired, gesturing towards the hotel with his chin. The report he'd received was minimal at best. Either the people that had investigated the matter thus far were honestly uninformed or for whatever reason had decided to keep the information from the Church. Whatever the case, Alexander was eager to see the problem firsthand and make his own decisions on the matter.

Subject: Re: Shadow Man [Anderson] Mon Feb 04, 2013 9:43 pm

Annamaria gave a gentle curtsy to the Priest as he gave his own greeting. "Salute, Father Anderson," she said, voice quiet and still. She stood back and opened the door, motioning for him to come inside, "Thank you for coming, Father... This way, this way." She lead him into the hotel, closing the door behind him after giving a worried look across the street once he was inside. When she began explaining, her voice was hesitant, "Well, as you may have noticed, Father... this building is quite old. We've been in the process of restoring it." Her voice was shaky with her accent, and she lead him into the kitchen, hesitating at the doorway at the sight of the cellar hatch just a few feet ahead. On the table to the right were a small stack of photos. She went about the process of laying them all out: all visual evidence of the activity.

"When it first started happening, it seemed... harmless tomfoolery. They called it a poltergeist. I didn't pay much mind to it because all it did was make noise, and nothing else. And it was just in the cellar," she began straightening particular photos of the dank hallways of the cellar, all of which containing a shadowy figure in their focus, "But as time went on, this playful spirit became nasty towards my workers... It frightened them enough to quit. My most loyal workers stayed and braved the nuisance. But they too eventually refused to go back down into the cellar." She picked up a photo of one particular worker with long red scratch marks across his back and held it up to him, "This, Father, is the problem. Whatever spirit is down there is attacking whoever goes down there, and it's getting worse. I went down there to investigate myself, and with... minor hopes of scaring it away... but it got me too. And drew blood."

She looked on towards the cellar, taking a deep, shaky breath, "It doesn't seem to leave the cellar, which is a good thing... But we can't simply just abandon the cellar. We need it for our business, and... I fear for the safety of my staff. I fear that... eventually someone will die down there. I had a team of Paranormal Investigators come... and they did an EVP recording... and it said the most horrific things." She visibly shuddered as she reached up into her hair, fixed up with bobby pins, and pulled out a small key to the lock on the cellar. "I'm told you and yours are the best at what you do... As much as I don't want to send you down there, we need to free this lovely house from the.. evil that binds it. Before someone gets hurt."

Guest

Accompanying the worried woman into the hotel, Father Anderson silently loomed over her right shoulder. His cool green gaze slowly moved about the room, checking for telltale signs of the unnatural. All in all it seemed normal. No strange cold spots, no odd markings or noises. At least, not until they reached the kitchen and those cellar doors. Immediately upon entering the room, Alexander could feel a subtle chill spilling forth from behind those old doors. Placing his bag on the table next to the pictures the woman had prepared, Anderson studied the collected information on the site. Judging from the earlier images containing the shadowy visage, it was clear that a relatively powerful spirit had chosen to inhabit this house. To be able to create a visible form such as that and even go so far as to physically attack passersby was a testament to the extent of its power and rage. Nodding, Father Anderson opened his bag and removed a small, gilded mason jaw. Within it was a blend of holy water and blessed oils within which several blessed wafers floated. The Iscariot set the jar on the table and reached into the bag once more, pulling out a small padded wand.

"Whit do ye know of the building's history? Previous owners? Accidents? Anything ye know is fine." Reaching out, he gently took the key to the cellar door and proceeded to the doorway. As he awaited the hotel owner's answer, he undid the lock and set it aside. Returning to the table, he removed the lid from the mason jar and placed it in the crook of his arm, holding the wand with his free hand. Now properly prepared to purify this house, the Paladin pulled open the cellar doors and paused at the top of the stairs. His green eyes hardened as he observed what little portion of the cellar was in view. It carried an entirely different atmosphere than the rest of the house. It was like an ugly tumor within a healthy body, a tumor that needed to be expunged before it had the chance to spread any further.

Subject: Re: Shadow Man [Anderson] Wed Feb 06, 2013 2:00 pm

Annamaria watched helplessly as the man opened up the cellar. She tensed as she stared into the abysmal tunnel that lead down into what felt more like catacombs than a wine cellar. "Dio mio," she said, clutching the cross necklace hanging down her collarbone. Soft wisps echoed from the opening, the faint haunting chortles of what sounded like the babble of innocent voices crept from splintered wood like a miasma. She shuddered visibly, before remembering his inquiries about the establishment.

"Ah, si. This was once a home belonging to a lovely couple from a century or so ago--Lorenzo Balboni and his wife Paola. They were of fine wealth and kept a lovely home throughout the years. They passed decades ago, but there have been reports of activity--of spirits resembling them. Nothing harmful, just doors opening, closing, windows shutting, or a man or woman simply standing at the window one minute and vanished the next." She stopped to consider her words. "...I believe that their spirits have moved on recently. I believe the madame before me asked for a friend of hers to come and encourage them to move on to the other side... And just shortly after, I took her place. That's when the initial activity started..."

She stopped again, to think. Those were the owners. But what of accidents? Deaths, perhaps? "That's all that I can remember off the top of my head. There may be something of note that I may have forgotten. If you'll excuse me Father, for just a moment," she said before leaving the kitchen towards another room for a short minute.

Annamaria returned with a small folder, flipping it open. It was a list of past servants, staff and employees--first started by the owners of the house and continued all the way up to this day. "Mm, here's a report on a gentleman that once worked for Lorenzo--what he did, it does not say... His name was Uberto da Tuscano and... from what the record says, he disappeared one day while working in the house. His body was never found and was sadly declared dead by officials."

Guest

Father Anderson paused at the cellar, awaiting the return of Annamaria and a bit more information on the spirit that was terrorizing this house. Glancing back over his shoulder at her, the Iscariot nodded, using his high collar to mask an excited smirk. Uberto da Tuscano eh? An abandoned soul trapped within these walls for years, yes, now things were starting to make more sense. All that resentment and loneliness had the potential to lend a vengeful specter great power given the right setting. "Thank ye miss. Tha' should make things a bit easier froom ere on out. After Ah reach tha bottom uv tha steps Ah'd like ye tae shut tha door behind me. Ah'll let ye know if Ah need anything else." Offering her what was intended as a reassuring smile, the Paladin proceeded down the stairs into the darkened cellar. Turning off from the line of sight offering by the staircase, the dipped the Baptismal wand into his container of holy water and flicked it out towards the walls. Walking slowly along the nearest wall, Anderson methodically sprinkled the blessed water over the walls, floor, and ceiling of the basement cellar. All the while, his deep voice solemnly recited the first of a series of Latin prayers utilized to purify locations just like these. Things would begin to get interesting any minute now, or so he thought at least.

Subject: Re: Shadow Man [Anderson] Sat Feb 16, 2013 12:31 pm

Annamaria watched, holding the files in her arms to her ribs, as he descended the decrepit steps down into the cellar. She wordlessly, though clearly hesitant, took a fire iron from a hanger on the wall and proceeded to carefully close the cellar doors, allowing darkness to descend upon the cellar. When the last peeks of light vanished from the steps, the air of the cellar began to thicken. Once the door had closed, the very nature of the cellar--once seemingly ancient with a stilled air of unease--took a drastic change. From the steps leading down a narrow hallway, the cellar branched off into a number of alcoves, all isles holding shelves upon shelves of bottles, old and covered in a layer of reeking dust.

Along the walls was a small cluster of cords, held to the surface by rubber strips, all connecting to a series of lights that ran along the ceiling. Most of the bulbs were broken in a series of seven, but the middle-most bulb was still in tact. Upon the closing of the door to the cellar, a small spark ripped through the air, and the bulb buzzed on, humming as the atmosphere took on its sinister persona.

The light emitted from the bulb was dim, but bright enough to form a spotlight on the floor beneath it, as if held in place by the shadow surrounding it. Within the surrounding shadow, small instances fluttered across the floor. No signs of previous life remained in the cellar once it all had passed, save for the concentrated energies of the vermin, all now seeking release from the evil that swelled within. A small flicker sprinted towards the priest, the tiniest hint of cold hovering at his shoes. Along with it, the smell of fear.

There was a sense then, from the opposite end of the cellar, of curiosity. The priest's presence had obviously not gone unnoticed, as the remains of the critters that failed to escape in time fluttered about in his safety, going no nearer to the presence just beyond the spot of light in the center. Of course, the residing master's delight in a visitor was soon to wear thin. Bottles began falling from their shelves, but not shattering, still filled with their respective tonics. They began to roll, a deep, ghastly hum accompanying their advance in an effort to instill fear--the feeding element.

The bottles rolled, and the crowds of cold about the priests ankles grew with hysteria, scattering as the bottles launched themselves at the priest in one fell swoop.

Guest

Green eyes watched the darkness carefully. Though his heart was free of fear like the untrained men that had ventured down here before him, he was experienced enough not to underestimate his prey. While the specter employed its' fear tactics, the Paladin continued his prayer, his voice rising in volume and passion to drown out the hum emanating from the darkness. Holy water flew from the jar held in the crook of his arm is droplets, scattering across the room as he watched the bottles carefully. Suddenly, they sprang to life through some unearthly force, flying towards him. Rather than balk at the violent greeting, the Iscariot deposited his baptismal wand in the container of water and swiped his arm across his chest to deflect the glass projectiles. His heavy arm shattered the bottles upon impact, various tonics soaking his sleeve and drawing a slight growl but failing to injure him. Undeterred, the priest continued on with his prayer, advancing into the spotlight provided by the sole light bulb. "Ah am God's representative, an earthly agent o Divine Poonishment! Come forth an show yerself spirit before Ah scatter yer remains tae the winds!"

Subject: Re: Shadow Man [Anderson] Tue May 14, 2013 4:46 pm

_{Oh my god it's so short, but it's here! Thank you for being patient with me, Andy... If you need me to change anything, please let me know!! I tried to keep powerplaying to absolute zero in this. If you think I need to make it more open, please say so and I'll fix it asap!}

Guest

OOC: No worries Heinkel. The wait was well worth it for a topic as enjoyable as this one. As always, if there are any issues with my post please don't hesitate to let me know.

With the final lightbulb destroyed by the mounting pressure of this unearthly force, Father Anderson was left to the blackness of the cellar but not before catching sight of the long limbed shadow stalking the walls with malicious intent. Tanned lips pulled back to reveal a set of white teeth accented by pronounced canines. Even as the ghost of the cellar gathered its energies, the beast dwelling within the priest stirred. The juggernaut was nearly ready to be unleashed. All he needed now was his target. Slowly setting the container of holy water on the ground, Alexander breathed deeply and loosened the muscles of his shoulders. "Ere it comes." he thought to himself a moment before the screech came followed swiftly by a flurry of clawed strikes.

The Paladin raised his arms to guard his face, forearms held in the shape of a cross. The attacks may have been tenacious but the paltry claws of a mere spectre were far from sufficient to put down something as durable as the Killing Judge. The guard was but a product of ingrained trainng as well as insurance to protect his eyes. Though he found himself in pitch blackness there was no way to tell how the situation to develop and a carelessly sacrificed eye was something he'd rather avoid. And so he waited, calmly feeling for the proper moment to response as the claws cut at his sleeves and arms. Blonde eyebrows twitched as he felt the moment finally arrive, moving as he felt a claw begin to tug at his arm in the begining of yet another attack. Relying upon touch to overcome his lack of sight, the Executioner snapped out his gloved hand to grab hold of the slender limb that had attempted to leave yet another cut on his tanned. Strong fingers closed around the clawed appendage like an iron shackle, bringing an abrupt pause to the assault.

The spirit's behavior showed that it was a fiend of shadow, more at home in utter blackness than the soothing glow of warm light. With that in mind, Father Anderson could only hope that the rabid smile warping his formerly calm face was visible to the abomination in his grasp. Letting loose a sadistic laugh, the priest's grin only grew larger as his green eyes opened wide searching the darkness for any sign of movement, anything else he could latch onto and rip asundar. Acting upon natural instinct and the swift glance he'd gotten of the creature's shape earlier, Father Anderson grabbed for the area of the darkness where he believed the spirit's face should be. "Hehehehe! Uberto da Tuscano, your soul is mine!" the mad clergyman roared, begining a Gregorian exorcism chant in latin addled by his natural Scottish brogue.

Guest

OOC: I'm so sorry Neria but I'm needed elsewhere so I'll need to put an end to our topic together. Once you get back I'll happily start another with you if you like.

The invisible specter writhed and screamed in the Paladin's iron grip, his gloved fingers digging into what should be the throat of the humanoid apparition. Releasing his hold on the spirit's clawed appendage, Alexander grabbed onto the neck of his prey with two hands and tightened the strangling pressure even more. An inhuman cry resounded throughout the cellar only to be drowned out by the mad cackle of the Killing Judge. "Blackened spirit uv tha pit! Ah ahm strong in tha Laird, an tha power uv Is might! Ah ahm strong in tha Laird an tha power uv Is might!" the clergyman bellowed into the ghost's unseen visage. The chanting of the holy man brought about a dynamic shift in the environment, the shadows retreating to the far corners as if in fear of the divine judgement thundering downward for the unclean soul that Father Anderson held so tightly in his grasp. Flashes of the spirit finally became visible, the long dead Italian's features were warped and decayed from years hounding the twilight existence of a spirit but his panic and desperation were very much human as he clawed hopelessly at Alexander's sleeves to no avail. "By Is Divine Authority an Wrath! Ah hereby banish ye ferever moore froom light and cast ye inta endless blackness froom wence ye came! AMEN!" with this final cry the Paladin released his left hand and brought the revealed spirit down with a crushing slam into the concrete floor. Driving the specter into the floor by the neck, the ghost shattered upon impact, it's immaterial body dissolving into thin air as hairline cracks flew outward in every direction from the site of its destruction.

The Executioner knelt there a moment, a wide grin upon his face before finally standing up straight and rubbing his neck with a chuckle. This assignment had been far more interesting than he had expected. It wasn't often that one came across a poltergeist with enough accumulated hatred and aggression to accomplish such feats. Regardless, the restless ghost had been put to rest as was proper and the worried woman upstairs could live on in peace at last. Recovering his tools, Father Anderson made for the stairs back up out of the cellar and knocked on the locked door three times to signal the young lady on the other side that the job had been completed. It was time to return to Rome.

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