The Great Darkness

As Voodoo Sam brought up in her piece on Congo Rite Vodoun (You use a VoCoder to dictate that bit Sam? LOVE the accent, Hon), the issue of what is and isn't a Ghost or other Spirit Of The Dead gets problematic. While they act in some ways as ichorous-Loa, in other ways they're closer in behavior to the classical "demons" of Western Folklore... and there's reason to believe this borderline condition exists in several other types of Spirits as well. Most often they tend to be parasitic beings, feeding on both ghosts and living sentients. The few documented species have been lumped into the "Nephelim" class of Ghosts, but the bulk of Necromancer's apparently don't care much to work with them, due to the dangers. There are, of course, exceptions: Faust's lesson seems to have been lost on 'em, and there exist plenty of Magicians who're willing to sell their souls to Demons for Power, and Hellbound Necromancers are past having ANY sense, kind of by definition. I have very, VERY little hard info on most of this, unfortunately... or fortunately, depending on how ya look at it, I guess. A little while back I helped a just-gone-Hellbound Necromancer break loose... or, well... so I thought. As it happens, he apparently reclaimed his soul and spirit, but I got a rather frantic call from him a month after I'd helped him relocate. When I got to his hideaway, all I found was a LOT of blood and gritty black ashes... the furniture was destroyed, as was the computer he'd used to send, through a series of cutouts GP couldn't manage to trace, the following document. It's not pleasant reading, but represents the only source of info I've ever found dealing with the nastier Things hiding Way Out There in the Astral. It also gives a first-person account of the incredible dangers of even the lightest brush with wielding Necromantic Magics. I've edited it a bit, cut out some of the more personal references, and things that have been covered elsewhere in this Doc, to ease the load a little. -- Silence.

Heya, Chummer... Started writing this when I heard the buzz on Shadowland about GP's new project. Sort of a penance and expiation, in the hopes of keeping anyone else from making my mistakes. I was going to give it to you when you got here, but I'm thinkin' it's a bit late for that. I can hear 'em, in the walls. Warded this place tighter'n a Humanis Hoop, but... The walls are already inside the first line of wards. I'm glad you got me out, Omae. Never think not. But you can't go down as far as I did and EVER really ESCAPE. They've got chunks of my soul, and they can find me, no matter how far I run, no matter how deep I hide.

It started out innocently... well, no. Not Innocently. It started in death.... When Susie died in the car accident, really. But MY part started out with good intentions, at least. Of course, NOW I remember what they say about THOSE. I just hope enough of me makes it through what they'll do to me to be with her again. Anyway. The beginning. I was a Decker. Pretty good, nothing nova-hot, just a console jockey for a Corp. Shiawase's Seattle Offices, punching data. I was newly married and looking forward to Susie'n I's daughter being born. Then some skag decided they didn't like Shiawase's employment policies or some drek, and wired a few cars in the parking deck with speed-armed bombs... on the way home, the front clip of our car blew up... the burning car started to cartwheel down the highway, and something in me refused to die. I Awakened, hurling myself into the air and out of the car with an instinctive spell. Suse... well, never mind. She died. I didn't. And I couldn't get my mind around it.

Shiawase was OH so sympathetic... time off, help to deal with my grief and train my new Awareness. YadaYada an' all that drek. So, I went from Corp Decker to junior league wage-mage, but I couldn't get around how much I missed Suse. At first, I threw myself into my studies... not so much to the sense of wonder so many magicians talk about, just to escape from the pain of reality... but after a while, it wasn't enough any more, and I drifted. Then... I heard about Dr. Yvgenie's Plasmic Resources Project. A project designed to prove conclusively that ghosts WERE the spirits of the dead. I grew obsessed with the faintest possibility that I could bring ANY of Suse back to be with me. It was a Grand Scientific Project, and I got myself transferred there out of... well, True Love is the Best of Good Intentions, right? Right. Dr. Yvgenie was a commanding, forbidding man, but he seemed to sense my desperation immediately and took pity on me. That's what I thought at the time... later... I was a blind, reckless fool who could be used easily, and he knew it.

Frag... at heart, I was still a console jockey -- getting up to speed on the project was a feast of information, and carrying as it did the hope of reuniting with Suse... I devoured any files and books Dr. Yvgenie gave me, from current research at the Zenshöan Center, to mouldering old texts, all in the name of "winnowing the verifiable bits of information from traditional lore." And of course running experiments to test which tales were documentable knowledge, and which were myth. Magical experimentation isn't the cut and dried thing that most strictly scientific tests involve. But I had no background to know when Dr. Yvgenie drifted away even from that... I worked hard, blinded by visions of Susie. The aches and pains, the instability in my own aura... it all passed beneath my notice, as Dr. Yvgenie "shared his own personal research" with me. Research that he said didn't fit into the Project Parameters, so he was unable to pursue it. Of course, if I wished to follow up on it on my own time, with my own facilities, he'd be glad to do what he could... I fell for that too. For his stories of the Metaplane of The Dead, that a man could be guided to, and if he were strong enough, win back from, bringing another with him.

«««Word t'the wise: Dark Promises aside, as far I could find, that's drek -- I've never run across anything even CLOSE to a reliable account of anyone succeeding with Orpheus' trick, or even getting as close as he did before getting killed by it. So, for those who've lost people, I'm sorry to dash your hopes, but I'd as soon dash your hopes than have to bury you TOO -- Necromancy CANNOT resurrect the Dead. -- Silence»»»

I dreamed of the legend of Orpheus, and swore I'd rewrite the ending. ANYTHING toward that goal became acceptable. When Yvgenie slyly insinuated that only a close pact with a Free Ghost would enable the journey, I swore away my soul and didn't look back for... far, far, too long. The first said I was too weak, I needed to strengthen my ability to handle the spirit world. I devoured ghosts to steal their strength for my own, and ignored the decay in my aura and the uneasy glances of my colleagues as the ectoplasmic taint within me grew. The next ghost I Bound permanently said I had the power, but not the breadth of skill, and "helped" me to learn the broad and limitless skills of channelling ectoplasmic energies. When I was "let go" by Shiawase, it didn't faze me, because Yvgenie "took pity" on me again, and introduced me to a friend who could support me and my research...

The ghosts I could gather now were weak, faded things, and my "friends" "reluctantly" told me of a way that I could gather yet more power... not ghosts of mortal men, but darker, older, stronger spirits... so I did the research, studied things... Back in the 20th century, they used to talk about the problem of violence on television, that the constant violence 'desensitized' people to REAL violence. I can't say about media, I'm not a psych. But the things I studied, the whispers of the ghosts already bound to me, ate away at what I was. Ate away at my humanity... not in some philosophical or metaphysical way, but I came to see the Living men and women around me not as akin to me, but obstacles or aids in my quest to reach Susie. So, when the only thing I could conceive of to bind one of the Old Ones to me was a human sacrifice... I didn't hesitate except in my selection, and as her blood drenched the circle of summoning, something darker than night DID answer my conjuring... and took me over, body and soul. I... mercifully, I remember little of that brief time. When Silence and his fellow runners destroyed the Circle of Hellbound Necromancer's I belonged to, only the final destruction of my Demon master allowed the tiny spark of humanity within me to survive. Fragmented and disoriented, I still managed to abhor what I had become long enough to kill Dr. Yvgenie, the Circle's leader, and save the embattled runners.

In return, Silence handed me over to the Spiritual Healers of his tribe, and I managed to heal my spirit enough to, technically, survive. It's been two months now, and I've been on the run from the Things seeking me for 4 of those weeks. When shadows around me began to distort, and I could hear their whisperings all night, I knew it was far too late to save me. I began to write everything I could remember, so that my doom could still serve some slight purpose. It might be enough, a small piece of my soul reclaimed that might survive to rejoin my Susie. I was told so MANY lies, that even though I've tried to winnow through to the truth beyond to pass along to anyone trying to slow the fall of Night, be wary of trusting ANY of it. I don't KNOW. I WON'T know until it's too late to pass along anything. But it's time to transmit now, I can see them rippling around under the wallpaper.... It won't be long at all until I find out if she's waited for me. The remainder of the file are the profiles I've put together. Once you've Fallen, the only Light at the end of the tunnel is the Express Train To Hell. Good luck...

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