This is a piece of short fiction I wrote as background for a character I’ll be playing in a new campaign, using the Savage Worlds RPG. The campaign is a modern day horror setting, with elements of the Cthulhu mythos. I hope you enjoy it.
My name is Daniel Thompson, and I’m a surgeon. I’m writing this down because it’s already been taken away from me once before, and I don’t ever want to forget it again.
It was mid summer, and I had just finished a difficult five hour surgery. I needed to relax, let off some steam, and get away from the hospital before starting another long shift the next day. I was looking for my buddy Trip in the maternity ward, hoping he’d be able to join me for a beer, when I spotted him in a room that had far too many occupants. Trip was attending to a very pregnant woman, and surrounding them were a nurse, two police officers, and four men in black suits that I pegged as Feds of some stripe. My friend was in a clearly agitated conversation with one of the suits, and excused himself just as I approached the door.
Trip was born Robert Stephens III, which should explain his nickname. We were like two peas in a pod, and delighted in causing groans among our mutual friends and coworkers whenever we were together. The most prominent groans resulted from our nicknames – mine is Skip, because of the several years of school that I bypassed, but that’s another story. We loved to announce our entrance to a room with “Get ready for a little Skip and Trip!” Yes, we did.
On this particular occasion, neither one of us was in much of a silly mood, and Trip was the one doing the groaning. “Can you believe this, Skip? I can’t even get them to wait in the hall!” He rolled his eyes as he dragged his fingers roughly through his hair. “What’s the deal, are they FBI?” I asked him, and caught myself mimicking his fingers-through-hair move. “Not sure, but I think they’re military. Apparently this frail woman, who is clearly about ready to pop out a baby, is some kind of cult member. AND, surprise, she’s extremely dangerous – if you can believe that.”
The woman didn’t look very dangerous, and thinking back I can’t really remember much about her at all, except for one thing. She had a tattoo on her arm that looked something like this:
I was about to ask Trip about getting out of there for a beer, when the woman let out a howl that was part here-comes-the-baby and part oh-my-god-what-is-happening. Trip dashed back into the room, took up his catcher’s position at the pregnant woman’s feet, and lifted the sheet.
It’s at this point that my sanity comes into question, and no matter how many times I go over the events in my mind, they keep unfolding the same way. I was hoping that shock had somehow painted things in a different light, but if anything the mind usually covers the unexplained with the mundane – not the other way around. Trip knelt down and lifted the sheet to see if the baby was crowning, and a…tentacle…shot from underneath, grabbed him, and flipped him across the room. He must have hit the far wall, because I heard a sickening thud. At the same time the woman began screaming as if she were being disemboweled, and another tentacle grabbed the cop at her side and threw him out the window. At that point, for a moment, I actually lost my shit.
By the time I regained control of my senses, two of the suits had pulled large caliber pistols and began firing at the pregnant woman, while another seemed to fling a…a bright ray of light at her. I couldn’t see the fourth suit from my vantage point, but someone was calling in backup so I assumed it was him. The second cop and the nurse had been closest to the door and came screaming out into the hall, nearly knocking me over in the process. I felt like I needed to help in some way…any way…so I started towards the door – just as the woman’s body split apart. The…thing…that came out of her was a dark mass of tentacles and black ichor, and as it squirmed past me into the hall faster than it should have possibly been able to move, the air around me felt…greasy and wrong. The suit that had thrown the light was the first one out the door after it, and he screamed at me to stay back. The two shooters were right behind him, and they sped off down the hall in pursuit of whatever horror had just erupted into our world.
When I finally entered the room, “backup” was sitting underneath the broken window speaking calmly to someone on his cell phone, seemingly oblivious to the broken bone sticking out of his lower leg. Just past him lay Trip, his head turned completely the wrong way and at an impossible angle. Instinctively I went to him and checked for a pulse, knowing full well that I wouldn’t find one. I pulled his coat up to cover his head, and went to tend to the suit’s broken leg.
The rest is a blur of activity, questions, more questions, and still even more questions. The suits’ backup must have arrived at some point, because the whole scene was locked down tight, and at some point I was being examined by some other doctor as if I was also a victim. When the suit who called for backup was being taken away on a gurney, I distinctly recall hearing someone say that a helicopter was waiting on the roof, and someone else pushing the up button on the elevator instead of down, in the direction I would have taken him. Right before the elevator doors closed, the suit looked out at me and said “You did good back there. You kept your cool. I’ll be in touch.” At the time I had no idea why he said that…but I would shortly find out.
Shortly after that another suit took me off to the side, held his phone up to take my picture, and took my memories away…