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Snippet #2685774

located in Ekland Farm, a part of The Spirit Detectives, one of the many universes on RPG.

Ekland Farm

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Duncan McAlister Character Portrait: Briella Adair Character Portrait: Leon D'Artagnan Character Portrait: Tom Passano Character Portrait: Cassandra Artemis Character Portrait: Monk Dawa
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Duncan hesitates a moment before following Tom into the room. As soon as the door was knocked down, a wave of cold hits him, chilling his bones. Reluctantly, Duncan slips the gloves from his hands and slips them into his pocket. Holding the bottle of holy-drinking water in one hand he takes the cap off and throws it behind him before bringing out the small wooden bear and clutching it in his left hand. The sounds and smells of Ireland flood his mind for a moment when he touches it, calming and centering his mind.

Rushing into the room just as Leon actually asks for help, the ghost hunter raises up the bottle and begins to sling it around above his head, letting it splash out all around him. When some of the water hits one of the spirits, which have taken the form of shadow people now and have started to converge from the dark corners of the room towards the three men, a scream can be heard as the water turns to mist and the spirit dissipates. The water would only force the dark spirits to rest once more, it could only drive a demon away because they are pure negative energy.

"Begone spirits! Don't make me start quoting passages, I have a horrible memory!" Duncan yells. Holy words, no matter what religion they came from, could force a spirit back, even harm them, if spoken with enough conviction. Duncan was not a holy man, but he had tried to let that go an memorize a few of the more powerful passages from the bible, but he hadn't retained them well. Suddenly a plate is flung from across the room. It his his wrist and shatters, but in that second of contact he gets a flash of memory and goes pale. The room suddenly gets even colder, and the stench of rotting meat fills the air. "Jakob..." Duncan mouths, the name spoken at barely a whisper.

You are not very gracious guests. Says a dark figure standing at the head of the table, at the far side of the room from where the other stand. My master greeted you with opens arms, but you have denied him. He is displeased, and that makes me very angry...

Every plate, cup, knife, and fork in the room rises up into the air and begins to whirl about, as if a sudden twister had kicked up. Then, knives begin to sing through the air, aiming for the three men. One of them embeds itself in the wall inches beside Tom's head a good inch deep. Plates to flying next, crashing into the walls and chairs. A saucer catches Duncan in the forehead and knocks him to the ground, causing him to black out for a moment. In that instant he can see, really see, the house for what it is. The walls are really flesh, the wooden support beams are bones, and in the basement lies the dark heart of the beast that is the house. Opening his eyes he gasps.

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