New Story: The Experiment

[Lagwolf]

The Sage was standing with the plain-clothed officer at entrance to the building which his colleague had run from in such haste. After the snickering and amusement of Rupert’s reaction to all of it, the Sage was contacted by his friend in the Scottish Unusual Squad (known internally and to its friends as the Nessie Squad). It was because of this contact that the Sage was in front of this building on this rainy day.

The Sage had been relieved to see that the Scottish executive had not wound them up in a past flurry of cost-cutting. The Sage suspect the unit was saved when the English had announced the ending of their unit only weeks before the Scots were planning to so. The Scots were loath to ever been seen to be copying the English at anything.

The unit was set-up after the debacle of the “ritual abuse” case in Shetland Islands several years ago. The grouping was made of experts in occult and cultish lore. Outwardly they looked like a normal unit of the police but in truth they were a tight group of experts, seers, and mentally strong. They had become expert being able to blend their activities into the normal realm of policing. Of course, the irony is that the Shetlands and the Orkneys, both former Norwegian colonies, are not subject to Deep Ones attention; of course that is another tale.

The Sage was one of their “outside” experts who occasionally was called on to actually face real threats with the outfit. Unlike Rupert, he was sent a private plane to retrieve him for their needs. This fact irked Rupert to no end…he was of course, not with them in Aberdeen. He was unwilling to face the clean-up of what he saw; Claire had come in his place.

She was currently at the library doing research on what they thought was possibly going on here. She would spend several fruitful hours looking into the area's past, with specific reference to Deep Ones activity.

Unusually,  of course, it was the Sage that was facing any threat, slight thought it was, to manifest itself,  not even able to have the company of Eden.

Still, the Sage, was in the company of a body of men that as a group were the most able in the British Isles, probably the best group this side of Delta Green. They did, however, have to be subtle in their ways, as any signs of weaponry make the locals uneasy.

The Sage suspected he knew what was to be done, and suspected his colleague did as well. Just how they were going to justify it to the local council, the local community, and the press was another matter. Still, they had to see if what they suspected actually went on there. As they walked into the building he prepared himself for whatever awaited them and hoped the others were all so prepared.

The upper floors were as Rupert described, complete with the changing room with various outfits for the plushies set. The only few unusual things in the upper floors were a large tub filled with salt-water. It would have been able to fit quite a group. An officer found a rather odd looking wall towards the end of a hall.

A collection of officers stood before this wall, two with sledgehammers, awaiting approval to attempt to break down the wall. The Sage wondered what else was in the van to help them. He felt rather sorry for the poor saps who had to break down the wall, knowing how thorough the Deep Ones could be in hiding themselves.

The officer, named Brent, the Sage never got whether it was a first or last name, nodded his approval. Both of them laughed to themselves as the two policemen swung their heavy hammers in unison. The hammers almost left their hands, as there was little resistance from the wall, the officer on the left almost falling over.

They cleared out a bit more of the wall to make sure that it would be possible to retreat quickly. One can never be too careful, especially when dealing with beings that are more (or less) than human.

Anyone expecting instant action would have been disappointed, as the hall continued on in a vaguely non-descript way. The rooms nearby looked to be set up for plushie fun. There were still various stuffed animals pilled up in several of the rooms. One officer having the unseemly task of making sure nothing was hiding under them…he used his baton to shove them aside.

“I am afraid we have to go down a level or two to find what we think is here.”

As they opened a door towards the end of the hall there was a sudden gush of sickly sea odour.  Not enough to have to wear breathing masks, but unpleasant just the same.

It was only on the next level that the truth of what was going on was born out. The room below had several tables with straps on them straight out of the Island of Dr Mareau; they were completely unoccupied. Syringes littered the floor, some empty and some full. Each table had a chart attached to the end of each, as if it were a hospital. For something of the Deep Ones the room was remarkably clean and sterile, despite the stench, which incidentally got far worse in the extreme corner of the room, where a trap door was less than well hidden.

The Sage examined the charts on a nearby table, while one of the cohort gathered up the syringes and placed them in a large plastic evidence box.

The two officers held off on opening the trap door until they were ordered to do so. It was obvious they were feeling a bit queazy at the prospect of opening that door.

The Sage meanwhile gasped in his mind, while attempting to keep his exterior demeanor calm and collected. He finally spoke…”I think we have all we need right here gentlemen. You may open that hatch, but I suspect it is merely a long slimy staircase with no visible end. I think it is best if we find a way to make sure this lower area is permanently inoperable.”

“So what exactly were they doing?” Asked the senior team member.

“You don’t really want to know…” he paused, “suffice it to say it’s a disturbing development. We definitely need to make sure this laboratory is never used again.”

“Ah I see, I will get my men right on in it.” He looked over at the hatch, “how complete does it have to be?”

“Make sure the building is totally destroyed and have the site leveled”

“The local council are not going to be happy about this…they will demand some sort of explanation.”

“Terrorist bombing? Illegal explosive storage? I am sure you can come up with something. This place needs to be leveled tonight…or they could restart their work the minute we leave. Please make sure to make that entrance on the other side of the room inoperable to anyone or anything that wishes to open it.”

“Understood,” responded the officer.

“If you don’t mind I shall be off now to meet with my colleague. I will send a report to the proper person this evening. Please inform me when it's all done.”

“Of course, it was nice of you to come help us with this one, Sage. Thank you for sparing us the details.”

“You’re welcome,” the Sage waved goodbye as he made his way back to the front of the building. 

He briefly paused in the front foyer as he texted Claire. He then made sure to be as inconspicuous as possible leaving.

It would be after a nice dinner at their hotel that he finally admitted to Claire what was going on. She sat on the side of one of the beds, mouth agape. She composed herself and quipped, “Well that is one recruiting drive with a twist.”

“The scary thing, of course, is that the fishies who were fully changed are probably happy with the outcome.”

“The ultimate plushie fetish…becoming the object of your fetish yourself.”

“Rupert is going to just love this,” he observed, “guess he made the right decision to stay home.”

“Yeah just wish I had done, as well…”

“Me too, me too…”