Campaign of the Month: November 2014

Shadowrun - The Rat's Nest

Nightmare

Neil's Journal

2071-03-21, Saturday

If what happened to Whistler happens to everyone who’s addicted to Tempo and who dies, we’re fucked beyond believe. That thing just wouldn’t die and I’m not convinced it’s dead now, even after what must have been every cop in Snohomish taking a shot at it, not to mention driving a burning van into the Skykomish River.

I dream that I wake up and Whistler’s standing there, just looking at me. Or maybe it’s that thing that took his body, but in the dream I know it’s Whistler, at least a part of him. I wouldn’t know what to tell him. I don’t even know what to tell myself. I feel numb. If it weren’t for Ruby and the kids, I think I’d try and run away from this. Even though I know that it doesn’t work like that, but right now the thought of returning to the Nest makes me feel trapped. What I want is forget that this ever happened. Maybe forget that Whistler ever existed, but that would be too much like betraying him all over again. I keep thinking about all the things he will never do again or never got to do. It feels like cutting myself with shards of glass, over and over again because the pain is at least something. The only thing that’s left of him.

We all had a bad feeling about it, I think. Whistler tried his best to keep his usual cool demeanor, but I could see he was scared. We put him under and then we started to cool him down and stopped his heart. We hoped that this would kill the parasite and maybe, if it had been a parasite, it would have worked. As it was, all we did was make room for the spirit Whistler had been inviting in with his Tempo habit.
It took over Whistler’s body, made the body get up and walk around, the chest still cut open. It was frighteningly strong and it healed the incision while I watched. Diego almost attacked it with a scalpel and I’m sure it would have killed him. Ruby got him out, Simon had already run when I told him to and I ran as well, through the emergency exit. The thing followed me because it could see sunlight through the door. I have no idea what it actually wanted. It didn’t act aggressively, exactly, more curious, but I didn’t stay to find out. Spirits are strange and unpredictable as it is, even the ones who used to be humans. The tree spirit I met was friendly enough, but so very different.

I ran, tried to get it away from the clinic. I’m not even sure if it followed me or was just exploring the world it found itself in. In any case, it encountered a guy in a car who stopped and took a picture. The spirit went for him and the guy drove off as fast as he could, dragging Whistler’s body for a couple of hundred meters. I wish I could say that this was enough to stop the spirit, but by the time I reached the mangled thing that was once a human body, it had already started to put itself together again. I shot it, three times directly into the head and that did exactly nothing to it. I lost it then, turned and ran. We piled everyone into the cars, the squatters and the clinic people together, and we tried to get away as quickly as possible, with police sirens coming closer.
I’ve watched the footage of the police chase. The bullets did squat…but weren’t exactly well-aimed, neither. I wonder if explosive ammo would stop the spirit if it happened again. If. When. It’s only a matter of time, I think. I don’t know if we’re going to have to shoot every Tempo addict in the head when they die, but I wouldn’t rule it out. Our version of the stake, I guess.

I’m just at a loss what to do. Wait for the flood and try to swim.

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Bookscorpion

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