Arkham. Rhyaad deAnnar, having been transported through time to a very tragic moment in his life and recently returned from a sojourn in the Dreamlands, finds he has been mysteriously recruited by the British Intelligence organization known as The Diogenes Club to perform a rather unusual mission Informed of vague suspicions by the enigmatic Chairman of the Diogenes Club, he has been asked to observe his close friend Nicole Collins for any evidence of possible influence by the Outer God Nyarlathotep. As he does do, his own uncertainty regarding this dubious assignment continues to grow and so, he finds himself journeying to St. Marys Hospital in Arkham Massachusetts in hopes of discussing his concerns with the one person he feels he can trust, Jamison St. Clair.
A thin, pale man dressed in an expensive Italian suit enters and crosses the tile floor, his eyes, their intensity somewhat concealed behind colored lenses, study the room, taking note of the large number of guards that seem to be on duty. He walks up to the counter and waits calmly to be recognized.
The receptionist looks up from her monitor, “Yes, may I help you?”
He nods. “Yes. My name is Rhyaad de’Annar. I would like to visit Jameson St. Clair, please.”
“One moment, she has a restricted visitor’s list. She says, Let me check. Mr. Deanna? Did you say?”
He nods. “I have worked with her before. Oh, no, de’Annar.”
She looks up at him with a glazed smile, “Would you mind spelling that?” She asks looking at her computer screen.
“Small d, e, apostrophe, capital A, n-n-a-r.” he says, concealing the annoyance he feels.
“If she is up to it, you could ask her, he adds.
“Ok, looks like you are on this list sir. She is in room 30, straight down the hall and to the right.”
Rhyaad gives her the little nod his head in a half bow and proceeds according to the woman’s directions. He pauses outside the door. This will be difficult, but not as difficult as his other meetings.
Police Officer at the door stops him, “Sorry, sir, but I have to check you for weapons sure you understand.”
Rhyaad nods. “Of course. I know what happened to her.”
The officers radio crackles as he steps over and does a quick body pat.
“Okay. You can go in Sir.”
He considers briefly the irony of the situation. If the officer knew he could kill him in a half-second without weapons “Thank you Sir”, he says with that odd little head bow again. Then goes into the room.
St. Clairs bed is concealed behind drawn curtain.
He parts it and peers inside. “St. Clair? It’s Rhyaad. Are you awake?”
Dr. Carolyn Woodward, pen in hand as she is check St. Clairs chart and looks up at the visitor. “She is still under heavy sedation. And so she drifts in an out.” She says as she writes something in the chart.
Rhyaad nods to the doctor and as he looks at the woman lying in the hospital bed and cannot mask the sadden expression. He needs so much for her to be lucid. And for a moment the pang of is isolation, the solitude pf his mission grows sharper. He moves closer and places a single red rose on the bedside table. “St. Clair? Can you hear me?”
“Mmh,” St. Clair turns her head.
She looks up, eyes opening, to blink against the light as she focuses: “Rhy?”
He looks into her eyes, trying to determine her degree of awareness. “It’s me, Rhyaad.” He picks up the rose and holds it closer. “I brought you a fresh rose.”
Dr. Woodward clicks her pen closed. “Please do not tire her. Don’t stay too long.” She pulls the curtain closed behind her as she steps away from the bed and leaves the room.
St. Clair sees the rose and nods, a slight smiling barely visible.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to come visit you. I have a lot of . . . problems to deal with.”
She sighs, her eyelids very heavy, her voice merely a whisper, “Sorry – to hear. Is everything is everything all right? In . . . Collinsport?”
He turns to the sound of the door closing as the doctor leaves the room. He then bends over and whispers in her ear. “Would you like a little supernatural boost? A blood potion?”
She shakes her head, “No. Please. I have resisted . . . that temptation . . . for far too long. To succumb now.”
He nods, ” As you wish. You would heal much faster, youd just have to deal with the side effects. He steps closer, and sighs, Collinsport has problems too. I won’t lie to you. There have been . . . attacks. Strange robberies. Things are not well.”
“Mills. Is . . . Mills . . . okay?” She asks.
Another sigh, “Mills almost arrested me. But yes, she’s fine. If you could but speak to hersometime on my behalf. Really, someday, she should be initiated. If you know what I mean, into certain things, like knowing about the history.
“Will not believe . . . until she sees . . . for . . . herself.” She tells him, “You said you . . . you have problems . . . what?”
“I gather that. She is rather hardheaded. And my problems . . . I should not burden you with them, in your condition. Let’s say that the Diogenes Club has severe concerns for what’s going on here. I am out of my element, having to deal with things I don’t understand. Perhaps you can answer one question for me though.”
“Diogenes Club.” She tires to sit up a bit now at hearing him mention the British agency. She licks her lips and looks at a plastic cup on the bedside table. “Ice, please in that cup.”
He leans over to whisper again. “How can you tell if a person is under the influence of Nyarlathotep? I have spoken with one of their agents, who I think might be able to by means of her technology.” He pulls back and gets a cup and adds ice and water for her, offering it to her.
St. Clair opens her eyes and looks at him . . . “How do . . . youwhat? You . . . mean . . . what . . . by looking? You can’t . . . only by . . . their corruption . . . by their actions.
But how do you know? It’s something I need to know.” He says and sighs loudly, The Diogenes Club is rather an ironic choice of name, dont you think, since they are not even honest with each other.”
“Nyarlathotep . . . influenceshe does not . . . possess. She tells him, and slips a piece of ice in her mouth, rising up a bit on her pillow, He is where . . . we . . . get . . . the concept of . . . Satan.”
He sighs, “What do you do when someone you don’t know tells you your friend is under the spell of the devil?”
She slips another piece of ice into her mouth and crunches it, “Spell? Be careful of Diogenes. Too political now. Not under Kaye.” St. Clair smiles weakly, trying to concentrate her thoughts, resisting the sedatives, “Oh that . . . tastes good. Who?”
Rhyaad nods. “This Vanessa Coats. The new leader of this Diogenes Club sucked me into their headquarters and made me an Extraordinary Member. Isn’t that odd? Isn’t that somewhat like the army kidnapping you and a general pinning a colonel’s badge on your lapel?”
She smiles and then grimaces from trying to laugh. “Coats is . . . not . . . Kaye. Will do anything.”
“It is strange, isnt it? I had never even seen the woman before. And she made some very frightening accusations about my friend accusing her of being under his spell.
“Under a . . . spell? Jamison looks up at him, He does not . . . cast spells to ensnare. He seduces! Only spells he casts . . . are meant to destroy . . . you and . . . a . . . good chunk of reality.
“Oh, she thinks Kaye is the devil. Says she rose from the dead. At any rate, Kaye is no longer merely human, that’s for sure. And possibly not even Kaye at all.”
“Well I took two . . . she took three.” St. Clair says with a wan smile. She nods, “Yes, I knowall about . . . the incident . . . in Westminster . . . she . . . died . . . and came back. No one knows . . . how. Figure, Coats knows Eyes Only . . . top secret.”
“So is there no way I can tell if these claims are true? I am advised to ask Dr. Praetorius for help. By a woman who distrusts him as much as I do. Oh, so you know about Kaye’s shooting?”
“I met Kaye a good woman. Severn Valley . . . couple . . . of years ago.” She tires to put plastic cup back on table, trying if figure out how to reach it, looks up, “Is what true? That she . . . came back . . . from the dead? Yeah, we . . . verified that.”
“I don’t know that she even is a woman anymore. But I do tend to think she’s good. She used her powers to help me, and others.”
St. Clair grimaces as she moves.
“Talk to her.”
“I intend to. But I may put myself in the middle of this competition between Kaye and Coats. And then I shall be, as the expression goes, in hot water.”
“Rhyaad . . . you’re a frickin vampire . . . coming back from . . . dead’s no big deal . . . it happens. Just have to . . . find out . . . how. Talk to her get Nikki.”
He manages a tiny smile. “Yes that irony has occurred to me also. Certainly I should have no problem with Kaye’s being returned from the dead.”
“Can’t hide much from Nikki . . . like her mother . . . can get into . . . your head.”
“Not mine, at least I have that.” He says, “And as for Nikki . . . I’m afraid she may hate me now.”
She looks at him and tries to concentrate, still trying to put the cup back, “Why?”
“She thinks I betrayed her because I attempted to steal an object of dangerous magical power from her. I wish nothing more that to explain why, but I just can’t. I still want to protect her.”
She looks at him hard, “What? Why the hell . . . would you do that?”
“I wish I could tell you. I really do.”
“DamnI need . . . a . . . cigarette.”
“Sorry, no smoking in the hospital.”
She looks at him “Steal from her. Blinking now as if trying to counter the sedatives effects, What? All this . . . Nyarlathotep talk you . . . youre thinking about Collins?”
He looks at her in silence.
“I’m a cop . . . damn good one . . . even drugged, that’s . . . who the fuck . . . told you that . . . s**t? Coats?”
He takes a deep breath. At some point he will have to trust somebody, and who is left. “Yes”, he says sadly.
“Godd**ned . . . political . . . assed b***h.” St. Clair tries to rise, “What the . . . it’s a . . . frickin ploy shes trying something . . .”
“You know that Nikki read all those horrible books as a child. And she told me that Nikki was meeting with him before she was turned.”
The heart rate monitor starts to get higher.
“We have a file . . . a godd***med foot thick . . . on Collins. . . you think . . . I’d trust her . . . if I didn’t?”
“Please calm down. St. Clair. I should not have burdened you with this.”
She looks at him, her eyes gone very serious, “Of course she can read the books. She’s not f**king human. She . . . never was. She’s a . . . hybrid . . . thats why she can read all that . . . understand it . . . ” St. Clairs monitors are now beginning to give off warnings, “Even she doesn’t . . . really get it . . . we need her . . . shes . . . going to . . . be powerful . . . someday.”
“Truth to tell, I am not exactly human and never was also And I am well aware that Coats may just be using me.” He narrows his eyes a bit at that comment. “I believe she will be very powerful. But for whom?”
“Why . . . do you think . . . Delta Green . . . revealed itself to her?”
Monitor beeping.
“Kaye knows Kaye created her.” She says growing more angry.
He pauses and takes a breath. “So you think I should trust Nikki even after Coats showed me pictures of her meeting with Nyarlathotep?”
St. Clair grips the side of the bed, “He godd**mned knows . . . what she is . . . he’s fascinated . . . knows she can resist . . . him one of a few.”
Two nurses rush in.
“Thank you. Thank you very much. That is much what I wanted to hear. Now you should relax. I have excited you too much a’ready.”
Dr. Woodard runs in looking at the monitors, the patients agitated state,”What? Why is she so upset?”
“Tell Coats I . . . told you to tell her . . . go to h**l.” St. Clair tells him, “SeeKaye!”
“I’m sorry, doctor I have gone too far. I should not have told her something disturbing.”
One of the nurses tries to calm Jamison down; the other arrives with a sedative to inject into the IV.
He nods. “I promise I will. I have a long list of people to visit.”
“Miss St. Clair calm down.” Dr. Woodward says as she looks at the monitors and then to her patient as the nurse arrives with the sedative.
Rhyaad realizes she won’t be conscious much longer. He places a cool hand on her hot cheek. “Yes, be calm. We want you back alive.”
The nurse injects her the syringe into the line of the IV.
Be careful . . . She does not fully . . . know . . . how powerful . . . she . . . is . . . she is the one. . . they . . . will . . . want . . . her. . . she . . . she can open . . . the gates.”
“May the gods bless you, and the stars watch over you.” Rhyaad says as the nurse tires to move him aside.
“Too angry . . . too angry lose control . . . ”
He nods, “I remember the reference to that.”
Assigned here . . . because . . . of . . . of . . . her. She says as she lies back down and begins to drifts off to sleep.
“I am sorry but you are going to have to leave.” Dr. Woodward tells Rhyaad unwilling to mask the strain of irritation in her voice, “This woman is still in grave condition.”
“Thank you”, he tells St. Clair. He nods to Dr. Woodward. “Yes . . . I know. Forgive me.” In his head he thinks ‘if she would only accept my kind of help’.
The nurse takes the spilled cup of ice from the bed, scoops up the crushed ice.
She looks at the other nurse, “Bring me another sheet and blanket.”
Rhyaad: Rhyaad takes another cup, pours a bit of water into it, and stands the rose up in it, leaving it beside the bed before he sadly goes out.
Cue Music End of Episode