Categoría:The Summons of the Deep

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Es la primera expansión de LCG. Se compone de 6 Asylums Packs que se caracterizan por continuar una historia. En esta historia seguimos la evolución de el personaje de Julia Brown que se presenta en diferentes Asylums Packs de esta colección.


Parte 1 - The Spawn ofthe SIeeper

Julia Brown loved to dip into the occult. She never missed a chance to pick up an article on one of the ancicnt pagan re-ligions. or to have a quick look through one of her grandfa-ther's ancicnt tomes. She didn't really believe in the occult image with which she clothed herself. bul she appreciated how it kept the mundano peoplc of her day-to-day lite at bay.

Julia was an attractive, quiet woman who had survivcd a rough childhood with no help from hcr parents. Scarred by her past, she did not trust those around her. and while there was many a would-be suitor who would gladly offer his arm in an attempt lo save hcr. salvation was the last thing Julia Brown was secking. As unbelievable as it may sound lo those who prefer thc proximity of friends and the comforts of communi-ty. Julia was perfectly contení lo spend the bulk of her free time in the close confines of hcr drab. single-bedroom apartment. There she spent her time bowing hcr grandfather's violin lo the strange notes of the syncopatcd. atonal music that only she could hear.

Julia worked as a seamstress in a governmenl factory, and found her job neilher pleasanl not rewarding. Each day she would sleep-walk through the repetitive tasks of her work. dreaming up mysterious ncw compositions. After work. she would rush home to play them on the ancient violin. She often played the entire night. not even bothering to stop for dinner. car-rying on into the wee hours of the morning. Sleeping was never a high priorily: she felt that the night was her most inspired time. She simply played better the later it got.

Not too long ago. however. her "preference" for the magic hours of ihc nighl changed lo somelhing a litlle more ominous. Ii was not that strange dreams or nightmares troubled Julia Brown. nothing ihai childish. Instead. what frightened her about going to sleep was Ihc antieipalion of what shc would find when she woke up.

The first time il happened. after shaking off I he grip of sleep. she woke in a eold swcal to find the sink in her bathroom run-ning. Looking down al the empty drinking glass on the counter. Julia reasoned that she must have played herself to a state of both physical and mental delirium. gotten a drink of water, and simply forgotten to turn off the faucet. That theory was dashed when she went to the kilchen and found the faucet there running as well.

"I musí have been further gone than I thoughl," she muttered to herself as she turned off the water, staring suspiciously over her shoulder at the violin. She tried to recall the last moments before going lo sleep. However, she could only remember the final composilion of thc night. a haunting. memory driven ensemblc of thc music of Eric Zann. music that she had heard once, years ago, as a child. Only a largo droplet of sweat. rolling from hcr brow, down hcr cheek. and into her mouth was able lo stir her from the daydream. "I nced to get to work."

That day she was. as usual, unable to focus on her work. but it was not the music of the violin that held her attention. Rather. she could not escape from the rccolleclion of waking up to find the sinks in her bathroom and kitchen running. Try as she might she could not remember turning them on.

When the workday finally carne to an end. Julia hurried home with a desire to lose herself in the haunting music of hcr violin. As she played.tihough. she was contintiously distracled by the faucet on her sink. She could not keep hcr gaze away from the innocent device. and she was spending more time staring al the sink than playing the instrument. "This can't be happcning."she thought as she got up to take a closer look al thc faucet. and shc laughed lo herself at that thoughl. not even knowing what "this" was. With the understanding that she wasn't going to be able to focus on hcr music that nighl. Julia made cerlain that both of the faucets were off. and went to bed. The nex( morning. she woke with a start. She could hear the

water, and knew that it. whatever "it" was, had gotten worsc. No only were thc faucets on thc two sinks running. but someone had turned on the bath-tub as well. Further. all ofthe drains were haphazardly stuffcd with an article of her clothing. A slow build-up of water had crept above the rims and trickled out onto the floor of her apartment. Julia called off work that day. and went out to buy new towels.

The next few nights she stayed awake later and later. She tried to prevent herself from sleepwalking by dozing offin hcr chair with the lights on. Alas, every morning she would wake to find the faucets running full valve and the drains stuffed with clothing. rags, or anything else she was able to find in the dead of the night. To makc matters worse, the water running into her housc was no longer thc clear sanitizcd solution one would expect; it had become a dirty, sludgy brown.

Julia kept the cxpcricnce to herself. She resolved to try sleeping pills. hoping to kick the problem once and for all. "I just have a weird case of sleepwalking." she rationalized. "If I can knock myself out with pills. I won't be able lo lurn on the water."

After returning from the drugstorc. Julia picked up her violin for the first time in a week. Shc played into the darkest hours of the nighl. and then swallowed a number of sleeping pills. dry. She was not about to get a glass of water. She went lo bed with thc feeling that she had out-thought the problem. and that things were about lo get back to normal.

The following morning. Julia Brown woke lo find herself na-kcd. in the cold. muddy walcr of an overflowing tub

Parte 2 - The Horror Beneath the Surface

Julia Brown screamed. It was a loud scream, fierce and primal, and it rose up from the core of her body, submerged as it was in the cold brown filth of the tub. It was a sharp scream, one that she could feel in the muscles of her throat. It would have been a long scream, dreadful and terrible, if she did not, through conscious effort, cut the scream short.

The faucet was running. Julia shuddered, and scrambled from the tub, splashing water throughout the room. She lunged for the white towel hanging on the door, leaving a wet, murky trail in her wake. Julia smeared the towel with dark muddy stains, wrapping it around her body. The cold. How was she able to sleep? The faucet continued to run: its harsh, relentless rush sounded like a waterfall. She stepped back across the room, and shut the valves on the tub, desperate for silence, but the roar of the waterfall crept up behind her. Spinning, Julia saw that the sink was also plugged and pouring, overflowing onto the floor with its own oozing offering of brown, turbid water.

The rest of the day was a blur. She turned off the sink in the bathroom, as well as the one in the kitchen. She soaked up water, and washed the floor. She wanted to take a shower, to wash away the mud, but shuddered at the thought. Instead, she did her best with a dry cloth, wrapped herself in the same black slip she wore the day before, and washed towels.

Days passed. No morning was as bad as the morning she woke in the tub, but only, she felt, because she was now facilitating the nightly running of the water. Instead of trying to fight whatever it was that was causing her to flood her apartment, she made sure the drains were blocked and the faucets flowing before retiring to bed. She realized she was starting to lose it, but she did not care. She didn't want to wake naked in a cold muddy tub.

Days became weeks. Julia could not bring herself to bathe, and she wore the same soiled clothes day after day. She stopped going to work. She lost her appetite for food, but she was always thirsty. The phone would occasionally ring, but she refused to answer. Her sole friend, an older, jaded police officer named Marshall Greene, came to the door, knocking urgently, calling out to her, worried if she was all right. Hunched behind the chained door in her tattered, soggy black dress. Julia ordered the man to leave her alone, to go away, to never come back. She did not recognize her own voice.

Isolation, hunger, and filth took their toll. Julia Brown had always taken pride in the fact that she could handle this world and her life therein on her own. She had never asked for help before, and she could hardly believe she was about to. But all humans, no matter how strong, have a breaking point, and Julia was beginning to wonder if she was losing not only her mind, but her very claim to humanity.

On the afternoon of the day she finally gave in and made the call, she gritted her teeth and forced herself into the shower. Remarkably, the water was clear, and it felt good on her skin. Weeks of grime and sweat and tears washed away, and Julia felt her heart break as she sat before the mirror and brushed her fresh, damp hair. She no longer recognized her own reflection.

After cleaning herself. Julia did her best to make the apartment presentable. Some of the carpeting was damp, but she was able to transform the place back into the messy home of a young, busy woman. With a final look around, she picked up the phone and dialed the local police station.

"Fifth precinct, can I help you?" the voice on the phone said. "Is Marshall Greene in the office? This is Julia Brown. Tell him... tell him 1 need his help." "One second." the voice said, and then. " Marshall..." When he came to the phone. Julia cut off his shocked hello. "Marshall, just shut up and listen! I'm sorry about the other day. Week. Whatever. I'm in trouble and I need your help. Come over as soon as you get off work. This is serious."

"Wha... what's going-" She hung up. Marshall was at her door 15 minutes later. 240 pounds of tall, powerful, reassuring, male presence. Julia let him in. and immediately bolted and chained the door behind him. "Don't say anything, just listen." Julia said, and then she let it all out. The long, sleep deprived nights, the miming water and blocked drains every morning. The single attempt to fight the disease, if that's what it was, with sleeping pills, and the following day when she woke up in the tub. The gradual decline towards madness, and the sudden, jolting realization that she needed help.

"Sure. I can help. But whaddya want me to do?" Marshall said as he reached down to feel at a damp spot on the carpet. He sniffed his hand, and scratched his head. "I think it might all be tied in lo my insomnia," Julia said "You know how I used to stay up all night, playing the violin? Well. I think my mind is rebelling. Now it's not letting me get enough rest. If I could just get one night's sleep, without having to worry about sleepwalking or turning on the water or waking up in the tub, everything would be OK. Could you sit up tonight, and let me sleep, and if I get out of bed to turn on the water or get in the tub, wake me up and make me go back to bed?" "Sure, sounds like a piece of cake." Marshall paused, and glanced towards the kitchen. "Speaking of which... Do you have anything to eat? And can I make some coffee? You help mc stay awake?" "Have whatever you want. I'm going to bed."

Parte 3 - The Antediluvian Dreams

The cake was good, hut it was also gone. Julia sure could bake, when she wasn't too busy with that creepy violin, and Marshall Greene missed her. He took a sip of his coffee, black, and grimaced at its hot, bitter taste. How could a person run out of sugar and not buy more?

He knew from the start that she was an odd girl, and the more he got to know her the odder she seemed, H should have dropped her a long lime ago, but he couldn’t help himself. He needed someone to make him feel like a large, primitive beast, and Julia did so better than most. Besides, she hardly ever let him speak, and for a fellow who rarely had anything to say, a girl like that was a blessing in disguise.

Of course, Marshall had to wonder if this was all an elaborate joke. She was always playing jokes on him, trying to pull the wool over his eyes, and calling him... what was that word? Gullible. Then again, it wasn’t all that unbelievable that she really had lost it. She did seem to he the type to go and do something like that...

Marshall yawned, and sipped at his coffee. It really was hitter, nearly undrinkable. His eyes grew heavy, and he yawned again. Time passed, and Marshall stared out the window, counting stars. On the verge of dozing off he jerked himself awake, energized by a sound from the hack of the apartment. The opening of the bedroom door.

Julia appeared in the doorway, and paused, as if something were wrong. "Who's there? "she whispered. "Julia...are you awake? It's me...Marshall. " He saw that her eyes were closed, hut her lips were curled in a smile. "Is this one of your jokes? Are you riding me again? "

"Who are you?" she whispered again, and moved towards the sink.

Marshall stood up and interposed himself in front of her. "Julia, wake up...I think you 're sleepwalking. You want to turn on the water, like you said. You need to go hack to bed. " He grabbed at her shoulders, stopping her progress.

"Move. " She twisted out of his grasp, like a serpent. He could smell a foul, marshy scent on her breath.

"Is this another one of your jokes? " He grabbed at her arm again, but she pushed his hand away. "If it is, it's not very funny. "Julia took another step towards the faucet, and turned on the water. A dark brown stream began to pour into the sink. "Julia! Wake know I'm getting too old for this crap. " He reached for the faucet lo turn it off for the strange water pouring into the room had a heavy, offensive, swamp-like smell that was making it difficult to breathe. She reared up in the corner of his eye. He hardly recognized her. "Hey!" he yelled. "What are you... stop it! Wake up! JUL-"

  • * *

Julia Brown woke to the sound of birds, and the bright light of the sun shining through her window. The fragments of a strange dream were flitting away in her mind. Something about Marshall, and sugar, and cake. She couldn't remember. She felt more relaxed and peaceful than she had in weeks. She rolled over in bed. Luxuriating in the feeling, thinking about going back to sleep.

The sound of running water brought her fully awake. That's odd, she thought. Did Marshall doze off, giving her a chance to turn on the water? That wouldn't surprise her. Just something else to hold over his head. How could you let me turn on the water?! She laughed, imagining herself giving him a hard time. The whole watery mess didn't seem quite so ominous with another person sleeping in the next room.

Julia pulled herself out of bed, made her way to the kitchen, and turned off the sink. In the other room, the only signs of Marshall were his coat and boots, on the floor near the couch. Looking up, she saw that the door to the bathroom was closed. She could hear the muffled sound of the tub. Was he taking a bath? She moved towards the door.

"Marshall? You there? I'm making breakfast, you want anything?" She knew he would; the man was always hungry. "Bacon and eggs?"

No answer, but the water continued to run. She had a sudden sense that Marshall was not in the bathroom, that he had left in the night, that the running water in the tub was just the next verse of whatever was wrong with her mind.

With a deep breath, Julia Brown pushed open the bathroom door. The body of Marshall Greene was lying face down in the dark, muddy waters of the tub.

Parte 4 - The Terror of the Tides

Julia Brown screamed. And screamed again. The body in the tub. The water, overflowing. Muddy stains on the wall, the towels, the rug. Muddy stains smeared with blood.

The body of her friend, her former lover, the only man she had ever asked for help. Bite marks. Human bite marks, ail over his arms, his neck, his back. Roach-like insects crawling across the wet floor, crawling across the dirty walls and the soiled ledge of the tub, crawling across the body, feeding on the wounds. Where did they all come from?

Something was wrong.

‘’/ need to hide the body, she thought. They 'II come for me. They 'II know. I did this. Don if let them find out.’’

But where would she hide it? Come to think of it, how was she even going to move the body? Marshall was 6'5" and weighed almost 250 pounds. How did she get the body to the tub in the first place? Maybe you didn’t

Something was wrong.

Even if she could move the body, even if she could hide it, the body, this problem—whatever it was—did she want to? Yes! No, of course not. Would that make the problem go away? What problem? Would she still turn the water on every night? Why wouldn’t she?

Something was wrong.

Turning away from the body, the roaches, and the mess of water, blood, and mud that was slowly trickling onto the floor of her bathroom, Julia left the room and the water running behind her. In a daze, she stumbled towards her phone, knocking the mouthpiece off the receiver. Picking it up, she started dialing the police station, but stopped halfway, and hung up.

What am I going to do? Her mind was racing. She took a deep breath, and looked across the room at her violin, resting peacefully in its stand. It mocked her with its serenity. You’re losing it. She took another deep breath, and pulled herself together. It was only an instrument.

She flipped through her directory, which she kept near the phone. What was the name of that counsellor... that psych guy? He had only examined her once, a couple years ago when she first started experiencing sleepless nights. Dr. Carson, that was his name. She was not impressed with his diagnosis, and never returned for the follow-up. "Looks good to me," he had said, but she couldn't tell if he was referring to her mind or her body.

She dialed the number. There was nowhere else to turn. The phone rang in her ear.

"Dr. Carson, can I help you?" His voice was loud and reassuring, and he spoke with practiced control.

"Doctor.... I... I think I'm in trouble." She could barely get the words out. "1 don't know... I don't know what to do. I-"

He cut her off. "You need to pull yourself together. Everything is going to be OK. Explain to me, as calmly as possible, what is going on." The doctor was someone she could trust. He had to be.

"I think I k-k-killed my friend last night, he was over here and I wanted him to watch me while I slept, so I didn't-"

"Does this have anything to do with the fact that your tub is running in the background?" he asked.

"What? How did you know that?" Julia asked.

But the line was already dead

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