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WESLEY’S DIARY - PART 4
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CONSTANTINOPLE - FEBURUARY 22nd 1923
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Hanging Around in the Mosque Once we are all firmly chained to the walls, the guards leave the cell, locking the doors behind them. Time passes. Absurdly, my scientific mind, trained to an obsessive and pedantic necessity to record details and outcomes systematically, begins to tally the number of fallen in the previous battle. I arrive at a figure of somewhere between 100 and 150 cultists. Greater accuracy, I determine, would be impossibility due to the number eliminated and unidentifiable thanks to the explosives used. We may have failed in our task to destroy the simulacrum, and have played ourselves entirely into the hands of our foe, but we will without doubt have left a significant impression on the Cult of the Brothers of the Skin which they will not remember with fondness.  Massacre At The Mosque Mehmet Makryat Drops by to Gloat I am awoken from a semi-conscious state. A figure has entered the cell; a broad and conceited smile plays across his face. It is the unmistakable mien of Mehmet Makryat. The same face of the three copies we found murdered in London in what seems like an eternity ago. Although physically unimposing, Makryat comports himself as a man who radiates statesmanlike power, an image which he clearly wishes to cultivate in the dapper suit he is wearing. "Good morning Gentlemen! I believe I owe you a number of explanations as to the nature of your actions since you departed from London. You have certainly given me a few surprises along the way! In fact, I don't mind admitting that you even had me a little worried about the wisdom of my decision to select you as the executors of my plan!" A furious Trent manages to shout a torrent of abuse at Makryat: "LET US GO!!!!" Makryat allows his vision to linger on the chained prisoner, before glancing briefly at Smith. "I don't think so," he smiles. "But I would perhaps hear from you if you know anything about Fenalik." A few comments are made which we hope will unsettle our jailer, but alas to no avail. Makryat then proceeds to launch a long gloating monolog about his successes in tricking us into bringing him the simulacrum. Allegedly, the simulacrum is a template for man. Fenalik then found the simulacrum and it was taken from him by Makryat's father Selim. "My father was happy with trifles, but what use is a skin beast against a tank or a zeppelin? I needed to find a group of men who were suitably equipped to pull off this operation - so I set the whole thing up."  Fenalik's Lost Toy As soon as I saw you in London, your suspicions, your organised and coordinated appearance at the gathering, to which you came fully armed, I realised that you were perfect. However, I made mistakes: You tarried long in Paris and I feared that Fenalik may have found a way of getting some parts of the simulacrum from you. I still don't understand how Fenalik managed to live so long. But no matter - now you are here and I have the simulacrum. The Brothers of the Skin will no longer need to hide their presence. Now I can wear any man's skin and also control the Skinless One. In a word: Power. I have the ultimate power to achieve that which my father was too petty minded to comprehend. I am going to London where I will first recharge the suit and then I intend to take the identity of a powerful figure of the British Empire. This will be my first step on the road to achieving total world power and the enslavement of all mankind.  King George V And Family "But enough of my plans: What of your fate? Whilst I enjoy a pleasant journey across Europe on the Orient Express, what will become of you my valiant friends? Mayhap you have noticed that you have been feeling somewhat unwell since you first took possession of the simulacrum? I'm afraid to tell you that this is simply the beginning of an irreversible process of decay which afflicts all who hold and possess parts of this artifact for too long. I shall release you from your chains so that you can fully appreciate your torturous demise. It will be an agonizing and slow process and I bitterly regret that I will not be here to witness your suffering. Your flesh will decay and your intellect will darken; and then, in what I consider to be a delicious irony of fate, you will consume poor Smith here, who played such an instrumental role in my plans. Eventually, transformed into rotting and malign beasts, you will turn on each other and consume yourselves. So, I guess that about wraps things up then. I shall be on my way and bid you all a fond farewell. My father would have fed you to the skinned beast, but I think this is a much more fitting end as reward for your heroic acts. One last thing, your efforts would have been for nothing in the end: The simulacrum cannot be destroyed!" With a parting sneer, he leaves the cell, striding forth purposefully. Unchained, we attempt to escape from the Shunned Mosque As all the pieces fall in to place whilst we contemplate the words of Makryat, and a clear picture emerges of the truth behind our actions - the betrayal and manipulation, and the fact that we have played a key role in helping this madman achieve his aims - it is almost as if the final threads of sanity snap one-by-one, plunging us into a bottomless abyss of lunacy. Yet out of this abyss rises a single voice. It is a voice unwavering in its resolve. And the voice is the voice of Revenge.  Professor Smith Is Alive, Just Smith somehow manages to maneuver his torso into the center of the cell: "My friends, I must apologize for leading you into this trap. Allow me to make amends by helping us to escape from our current predicament. The guards here fear above all else a thing called 'the Flapping Man', an apparition in a cloak of skin which embodies the spirits of the dead in wretched skin and bones. Perhaps we can fool the guards into believing that this apparition is here and so take them by surprise." Two Brothers of the Skin ascend the steps of the minaret to our cell. A key turns in the heavy lock and the door rattles and opens. They begin to unchain us, one-by-one, keeping careful guard over us as they do so and ordering us to the back of the cell as we are released. As soon as we are all but one released, we suddenly rush the guards, holding Smith and using him as a kind of 'Flapping Man' to terrify them. It works and they flee in horror, dropping their knives as they do so. As we exit the cell we can hear shouting and screaming from below. What on earth has happened?  Brothers Of The Skin The 2nd battle of the mosque. Pini is killed. Unable to make out what all the noise is about downstairs, we decide to go and see for ourselves. We cautiously descend the spiral stairs. A glimpse through a gap in the door reveals a scene of further chaos. Amongst the carnage of the previous battle, the Brothers of the Skin appear to be fleeing in terror from some bizarre form: The Flapping Man! Several of us rush into the room, leaving only Pini behind who decides to look elsewhere. The Flapping Man brutally disposes of one of the Brothers before turning to us: "The hearts beneath are what can defeat even the gods!" he bellows. He seems to recognize that we have a common cause and races off in pursuit of more Brothers of the Skin." Just as he is gone, a Brother suddenly appears - wielding Donnelly's BAR! By some sudden twist of good fortune, the gun was already jammed - the Hindu hurls his knife at the cultist, narrowly missing - a fist and knife fight ensues with more cultists joining in. Eventually they are defeated. We locate our weapons and begin to distribute them when more brothers attack. We attempt to seal the doors to the chamber but eventually they burst through and are met by a deadly volley of machine gun and small arms fire, with the first wave collapsing in a bloody heap. Behind them it is possible to make out Pini as he grapples with a brother; unable to help, we can only look on in horror as a single shot is fired into his head. Simon Grand is the first able to act and quickly takes careful aim with his shotgun at Pini's murderer, scattering the contents of his scull across a wide area with a blast from each barrel. We make quick work of the remaining brothers and can hear the sound of the approaching police. The international police arrive. We plan how to intercept Makryat. The British police officers are clearly shocked by the scene they witness as they enter into the main chamber of the mosque. The history of Constantinople is built on bloody battles and conflict, but I would wager that it has never witnessed such intense slaughter and carnage within such a short space of time and within such a confined area as what has happened here this night. We are brought out into the morning light and patched up. Pini's corpse is carefully wrapped and brought to a police vehicle. Rutherford assures us that Pini will be transported immediately to the Mount of Olives in Jerusalem, Palestine: A worthy resting place for one who has paid the ultimate price in this battle against an ancient evil. "You rescued my son from the certainty of a cruel fate, for that, you can be assured of all the help I may provide," insists Rutherford, patently affected by recent events.  British MP's, Late As Ever Rutherford explains to us that he can provide us with a type of diplomatic immunity that will at least keep us safe from close investigation at any border or customs controls, protecting our vast array of weaponry and explosives from prying eyes. The Simplon Orient Express is to leave Constantinople for Calais this evening. There is no time to lose if we are to apprehend the fiend Makryat. At the station there is the usual chaos which we have grown accustomed to in this lawless part of the globe. Our keen paranoia drives us to maximum alertness; to our frayed senses everyone crowding the platform is a brother in a disguise or some other fiend sent to kill us. We are allocated our last-minute berths on the train with some of us in the Paris car and some in the Calais car. It is with heavy hearts that we watch the suburbs of Constantinople slip away into the dusk. We have failed in our mission and Pini is dead. But we may yet have an opportunity to gain revenge for our fallen companion. Tune In Next Week. |