Showing posts with label Greek Mythology. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Greek Mythology. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 23, 2019

Pierce Mostyn in The Medusa Ritual




Pierce Mostyn, that intrepid foe of the things that go bump in the night, last appeared in Van Dyne’s Vampires, published October of last year.

Next week he will appear in a new adventure, his fifth: The Medusa Ritual.

The germ of the idea for Mostyn’s latest adventure can be found in the Hazel Heald and Lovecraft collaboration “The Man of Stone”. Collaboration, though, is a generous term; for, according to ST Joshi, Heald seems to have contributed virtually no prose to the story — based on textual evidence.

Thus, Heald probably only provided a story idea for Lovecraft to run with. Which he did, and that story then provided me with the idea for The Medusa Ritual. So thank you Hazel for that original idea!

However, while “The Man of Stone” got the wheels turning for The Medusa Ritual, there is nothing of the earlier story in the later one other than people being turned to stone.

While Van Dyne’s Vampires focused on what is essentially a mad scientist and his monsters, in Mostyn’s new adventure we return to the world of cosmic horror. That world where the terror originates from the realization that in the big picture we are completely and totally insignificant. A realization that can easily drive us to despair, madness, or self-destruction.

Nietzsche’s answer to achieving this awareness and its accompanying despair, was for the person to become a creative individual. To become as a god, in other words, for gods create; and in creating, the individual can thereby bring meaning to his or her otherwise meaningless life.

Nietzsche’s answer was essentially an existential one. We are in command of our fate. Counter the meaninglessness of existence by creating your own meaning.

Lovecraft, on the other hand, retreated into antiquarianism, and racial and cultural identity. The old days are good. The old ways are known and comfortable. My own kind are known to me. The foreigner is unknown, a mystery, and therefore suspect.

In Lovecraft’s fiction we see his philosophy play out in his vision of our world having been invaded by alien monster beings who have no regard for us. In strange, swarthy, and dark foreigners who do the bidding of these monsters. And in the insignificance of us Westerners and our science in the face of these ancient beings and their magical rituals. HPL’s conclusion is that it’s best if we don’t know too much of what is really out there, or know any of it at all.

When I come away from reading Lovecraft, I have the feeling that ignorance is bliss. In being ignorant, I can live my life in the delusion that this is a world of meaning and purpose. That I have essential meaning and purpose.

In “The Shadow over Innsmouth”, the narrator comes face to face with the horror of the curtain being pulled aside to reveal what truly is. He has looked into the abyss. In the end, when he realizes that he too will eventually join those monstrous denizens of the deep, rather than end his life, he resigns himself to his fate. For Lovecraft, once we know the truth, we either surrender to it, or go mad, or destroy ourselves. There is no Nietzschian optimism in Lovecraft.

Pierce Mostyn, knowing the truth, doesn’t go mad or destroy himself, but he is weighed down by the understanding that in the end all of his actions are futile. He resorts to duty to keep on going. Much like the ancient Roman Stoics. Duty gives him purpose and meaning in what is an otherwise meaningless and chaotic universe.

Now all of the above is a heck of a lot of philosophy. But don’t worry. It’s all in the background. The Medusa Ritual is not a philosophical treatise. It’s a tale of cosmic horror with plenty of action, adventure, monsters, and daring do. Just what we want to read. Right?

And it will be available, Amazon willing, on July 29th for your reading pleasure.


Comments are always welcome; and, until next time, happy reading!

Thursday, May 30, 2019

The Medusa Ritual - Installment 18




The Medusa Ritual
A Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation
by
CW Hawes


Dotty’s rescued. But will Pierce Mostyn be able to stop the Masked Man’s escape?
Read on for the thrilling conclusion of The Medusa Ritual!


Chapter 23


Mostyn hit the floor, and took out his pistol. He saw light in the entryway of one of the tunnels, and then gunfire erupted.
Jones, Mostyn thought. Hallelujah!
Arcing through the air were two flares. They hit the wall and fell to the floor. The bright light illuminated the situation in the small chamber. Mostyn’s eyes swept the room. He spotted two men struggling to drag Dotty from the chamber.
Mostyn fired a double-tap from his pistol, sending two forty-five caliber bullets into one of the men. The man pitched forward as if he’d been hit with a sledgehammer. The other man let go of Dotty, turned around, and fell backwards under the impact from another pair of bullets sent by Mostyn’s pistol.
With pistol in one hand and knife in the other, Mostyn low crawled across the floor to where Dotty lay. When he reached her, he positioned himself in front of her and took in the scene. Several of the black suits lay dead, there was no sign of the masked man or the Chinese woman. Jones, Baker, Hammerschmidt, and Stoppen entered the chamber. NicAskill stood up, her knife blade colored red.
Dotty groaned, and muttered, “Chinese woman. Stop her.”
Mostyn touched her cheek, stood, and said, “That tunnel,” he pointed to the one he meant, “the masked man and the Chinese woman were there. Let’s go.”
“Wait a minute,” Jones said, “where are the lizard people?”
“You saw them too?” NicAskill said.
“They led us here,” Jones replied.
“Well, I’ll be…,” NicAskill muttered.
“Let’s go!” Mostyn shouted. “Jones, NicAskill, you first. And when you see the masked man or the woman that was with him, shoot first, ask questions later.”
“Right, Boss,” Jones said, and plunged into the tunnel, with NicAskill following.
“Baker, Hammerschmidt, you two help Dotty.”
“My God, Mostyn, she’s in her birthday suit,” Baker said, dropping his pack and stripping off his shirt.
“Thanks, Willie Lee,” Mostyn replied, and to Dr Stoppen he said, “Follow me!”
Mostyn and Stoppen plunged into the tunnel. Almost immediately Mostyn noticed the tunnel descending deeper into the earth.
Maybe this connects to the auditorium, he thought.
Jones and NicAskill were about fifty ahead of Mostyn. They ran around a curve in the tunnel, and a moment later Mostyn, significantly ahead of Stoppen, rounded the curve and almost ran into Jones, who’d stopped.
Before them stood the Chinese woman. Her hand was raised in a signal to halt. “The master says, goodbye. It is time for you to die.”
The Chinese woman’s eyes turned red and she began to change shape.
“She’s the Gorgon!” Mostyn yelled, Dotty’s words suddenly making sense. Jones, NicAskill, and Mostyn opened fire on her. The Gorgon’s body shook and twisted under the impact of the bullets, but was still standing when the three OUP agents ran out of ammunition.
Her beautiful face was still visible, but her body was halfway between a woman’s and something amorphous, slimy, and tentacled. Out of her head, where her hair had been, tentacles were emerging. Rivulets of green ooze were streaming from the many wounds. Mostyn could already feel a certain paralysis setting in. He turned around, ejected the magazine from his pistol, slammed a new one home, and racked the slide. He grabbed his mirror, held it up, and opened fire, watching the monster in the mirror. The first half dozen bullets missed. The next two, however, smashed their way through the thing’s neck, nearly severing the head.
The Gorgon collapsed to the floor. Jones shook himself, muttering, “What the hell?”
NicAskill shook her head and took a deep breath. “My God, I couldn’t breathe.”
“You two alright?” Mostyn asked.
“Yep,” Jones said. “Although for a moment there, it was like I couldn’t make a decision.”
“Me, too. But I’m ready to go, sir,” NicAskill added.
“Where’s Dr Stoppen?” Mostyn asked.
“Here.” Stoppen crept around the curve with a sheepish look on his face.
“Okay,” Mostyn said, “let’s go. One monster down, and one to go.”
Down the tunnel they continued, coming out in the auditorium, which smelled of scorched stone from the thermobaric grenade.
Jones swept the place with his flashlight and helmet lamp. “No one seems to be here.”
“The masked man disappeared when I tossed the stun grenade on the dais,” Mostyn said. “There must be another tunnel somewhere around there.”
The team walked to the dais and Jones swept the area with the twin beams of his lights.
“Give me your flashlight,” Mostyn said.
Jones handed the light to him, and Mostyn walked to the back wall, sweeping the beam of light across the stone. Not finding what he was looking for, he panned the beam of light across the floor.
“Ah, here it is,” he said, pointing to a crack along a portion of the line where the floor and wall meet. He then played the beam of light along the wall. “I don’t see a trigger, unless…” Mostyn pushed on the door and it swung inwards, revealing another tunnel.
“Jones, wedge this open so Baker and Hammerschmidt can follow.” He then entered the tunnel followed by NicAskill, Stoppen, and Jones.
Jones called out, “I saw Baker and Hammerschmidt enter the auditorium with Kemper when I jammed open the door.”
Mostyn waved his hand to signal he’d heard.
They followed the tunnel as it made a couple right angle turns and finally emptied into a large chamber. A chamber that was illuminated and filled with books, thousands of books filling the shelves from floor to ceiling along all four walls. In the middle was a large desk and chair. In one corner was a large and ornate Oriental folding screen. The screen was black and on it was a swirling chaos of red and orange, with two yellow cat eyes peering out of the chaos.
From around the screen, stepped the masked man. “You have found me. Most unfortunate for you.”
Mostyn raised his pistol.
“You cannot kill me, Mr Mostyn,” the masked man said.
“Want to see me try?” Mostyn replied.
“Many men have, you see, and I am still here.”
Behind Mostyn, Jones, and NicAskill, Dr Stoppen took out of his pocket a small black object and tossed it over the head of Jones. The little thing hit the floor, bounced once, and transformed into a hulking black monstrosity.
The masked man cried out, threw a handful of red dust into the air, and turned to flee. The monstrosity reached out, grabbed the masked man, pulled the screaming man to itself, and vanished.
“What the hell was that?” Jones asked.
“A class three demidaimonus,” Stoppen said. “A gift from Dr Bardon. For emergency use only.”
“Well, I’ll be damned,” NicAskill said. “And you had this thing all the time?”
“Well, not all the time,” Stoppen replied. “Dr Bardon gave it to me before he left. He thought we might have use for it. But only in the most dire emergency. I thought this qualified.”
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Jones asked.
“Because Bardon said not to. If you have an issue with him swearing me to secrecy, take it up with him.”
“That’s alright, Otto,” Baker said, having entered the room with Hammerschmidt and Kemper at the tail end of the conversation. “We all know Bardon moves in mysterious ways his wonders to perform.”
Mostyn clapped Jones on the shoulder. “You ought to know by now, the Director has lots of goodies up his sleeves.”
“What I don’t get,” Jones said, “is why he just doesn’t do all this himself instead of sending us in harm’s way.”
“Well, Jones, he’s not God,” Mostyn replied.
“He’s almost like God,” NicAskill said. “Are you sure he isn’t some kind of supernatural being?”
Mostyn shrugged. “I only know what he told me.”
“Which was?” NicAskill said.
“That he’s human. All too human.”
Jones shook his head. “Yeah, right.”



Epilogue


Dr Rafe Bardon lit his old bent bulldog briar pipe. The odor of sweet Virginia pipe tobacco filled his office. Sitting on the other side of his desk were Mostyn and his team. There was an empty chair in remembrance of Dr Winifred Petrie.
“I want to begin by saying thank you for an outstanding job. You destroyed a star vampire and the Gorgon. Wing Lee is no longer with us. His incredible library is being cataloged by Dr Stoppen. And we have made contact with the lizard people. All in all, a superb job. Thank you all.”
“What about the family of Fiorella Flores-Hernandez?” NicAskill asked.
“Yes, very unfortunate,” Bardon said, nodding his head slowly and gravely. “They will be adequately taken care of.”
“But what did you tell them?” NicAskill pressed.
“Something they could believe,” Bardon replied. “After all, who would believe that an extra-dimensional entity killed their daughter by turning her to stone? Why such things are the stuff of myth!” Bardon’s face was serious, but there was definitely a twinkle in his eye.
“Well, again, I want to thank you for your service. You all did fine work. Thank you.” Bardon stood and everyone knew that was the signal the meeting was over. As people began filing out, Bardon said, “Mr Mostyn and Dr Kemper, if you’d be so kind as to wait a few moments?”
When everyone was gone, Mostyn and Kemper resumed their seats. Dr Bardon sat and relit his pipe. When he had it going, he spoke.
“I’m glad you got there in time, Pierce, otherwise our Dr Kemper would not be here and, well, we’d have a bigger problem on our hands.”
“What problem, sir?” Dotty asked.
“Don’t have time to go into it now, my dear. No, no time.”
Mostyn looked at Dotty. “Yes, we were very lucky getting there when we did, sir,” Mostyn said.
Bardon smiled. “Oh, I don’t think luck had anything to do with it.”
“What do you mean, sir?” Mostyn asked.
“Just what I said, my boy, just what I said. Now, unfortunately, I can’t give you two any time off. A very big discovery has been made by one of our satellites. The photos are phenomenal, and I have to send you two out right away.”
Bardon slid a folder to the edge of his desk. Mostyn picked up the folder and took a look inside.
“Is this for real?” Mostyn asked.
“It is, Pierce, my boy, it is.” Bardon rubbed his hands together in obvious glee. “The opportunity of a lifetime.”
“For crying out loud,” Dotty said, “will you two let me in on what’s going on?”
“Sorry, Dot,” Mostyn said, “we’re going to Saudi Arabia.” A wicked smile appeared on Mostyn’s face. “And just think…”
“What?” Dotty said.
“There won’t be any trees.”
A look of disgust appeared on her face. “Maybe not, but there will be plenty of goddamn sand. For once, just once, I’d like to get an assignment in a city.”
Dr Bardon leaned back in his chair and folded his hands across his ample stomach. Around his pipe, his mouth was stretched into a big smile. “Oh, you will, Dr Kemper, you will.”



The End




If you enjoyed reading the working draft of The Medusa Ritual, and would like to know when the final version will be released, become a VIP Reader and be the first to know! You’ll also get the Pierce Mostyn novelette, “The Feeder” — which is available only to my VIP Readers! 

If you haven’t read the other books in the Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigations series, check them out on Amazon.

What people are saying about the Pierce Mostyn series:

“…a fast-paced story with lots of action, yet does not neglect the characters.”

“Hawes has a great time with this series and does a good job (too good) of leaving us wanting more.”

“This series is fun…”

“…a weird tale of adventure, humor, and horror.”



The Medusa Ritual is copyright © 2019 by CW Hawes. All rights reserved.

Friday, March 22, 2019

The Medusa Ritual - Installment 8

The Medusa Ritual
A Pierce Mostyn Paranormal Investigation
by
CW Hawes



Dotty’s a prisoner, and Mostyn must walk away if he is to ever see her again. But that isn’t the worst of it.
Read on for more adventure!



8


Mostyn opened his eyes. He didn’t move anything except for his eyes. He took in everything he could see without moving his head. The lighting was subdued. The ceiling, and what he could see of the walls, reminded him of his hotel room. Why was he here? Where had he been?
Images of a street and buildings and a long black limo flooded into his mind.
“Dotty.” The word came out as a barely audible croak, although he’d meant to shout it.
“Are you awake, Boss?” The voice belonged to Jones.
Mostyn tried to get up.
“Whoa, Boss.” Jones put his hand on Mostyn’s chest and gently pushed him back down. “Hang on a minute.”
Jones got out his phone, made a call, and after a moment said, “He’s awake.” Call ended, Jones returned the phone to his pocket.
“Where’s Dotty?”
“We were kinda hoping you’d tell us.”
Mostyn got up on his elbows. “What do you mean?”
The door opened and in walked a man, who was followed by Dr Bardon.
“Ah, Pierce, my boy, good to see you awake.”
“Thank you, sir,” Mostyn replied.
Bardon introduced the man with him. “This is Dr Addison Clarke. He’s been monitoring you since you were unceremoniously dumped on the hotel steps. Thanks to Mr Jones, we were able to get to you before the paramedics arrived. Wouldn’t do to have you in a civilian hospital.”
“Dumped?” Confusion was written all over Mostyn’s face. He shook his head. “Where’s Dotty?”
“We were hoping you could tell us,” Bardon said. “Her subdermal tracker is being effectively blocked.”
“I don’t know where she is.” Mostyn then explained about the attempt to run him over, the javelin attack, and finally the abduction. “I don’t recall anything after the powder, until now.”
“Very interesting,” Bardon replied. “It appears this Asian fellow knows a thing or two about spells. It also seems he has our Dr Kemper.”
“We have to find Dotty,” Mostyn said.
“We will,” Bardon replied. “But first let Dr Clarke have a look at you.”
Bardon stepped back and the doctor moved next to the bed to begin his examination. After listening with his stethoscope, shining a light in Mostyn’s eyes and throat, and testing his reflexes, Clarke seemed satisfied Mostyn was okay.
“Good,” Bardon said. “Thank you, Dr Clarke. I’ll take it from here.”
Clarke wished everyone a good day, and left.
“The team is in Conference Room C,” Bardon said. “Get dressed, and we’ll join them. Come with me, Mr Jones.”
Bardon and Jones retired to the outer sitting room, closing the door behind them.
Mostyn got out of bed, took a quick shower, after which he began dressing. He was knotting his tie when his phone rang. He picked it up.
“Good afternoon, Mr Mostyn.” The ancient and ethereal sounding British voice.
“Where’s—”
“She’s well. And she will continue to be well if you live by tonight. Once you have left Los Angeles, she will be released.”
“How do you—”
“You want proof. I expected as much. Jot down the link and password I am about to give you. Both will be good for the next fifteen minutes. Are you ready?”
“Go ahead.”
The voice gave Mostyn the information, which Mostyn jotted down.
“Safe travels, Mr Mostyn.” The voice was gone and there was only silence in its place.
Mostyn brought up the website on his phone and typed in the password. The site opened revealing a blank video screen. He tapped the “Join Conversation” button and Dotty appeared on the screen.
“Dotty! Can you hear me?”
“I can hear you, Pierce. Enable your video so I can see you. Can you see me?”
“I can.” He enabled the video and Dotty appeared before him on the screen.
“How do you like the outfit? Should I get one for home?” Dotty was dressed in a one piece, long yellow silk dress with a white flower print, that had a high collar and sleeves extending a couple inches passed her elbow. There was a long side split on both sides which showed Dotty’s legs up to a little bit above the middle of her thighs.
“Looks nice. Sure, get one for home. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine. But I won’t be if you don’t leave.”
“What do you mean?”
“I was told the eldest grandson has, and I quote, ‘taken a fancy to me’. If you don’t leave, I will become his mistress. Or maybe even his wife.”
Mostyn clenched his fists.
Dotty continued. “I was also told the grandson isn’t normal. I don’t know what they mean by that, but I have a feeling it’s not something I want to find out.”
“Don’t worry, Dot. My uncle will fix things.”
“Pierce. I’m scared, and you know I don’t say that very often.”
“Don’t worry, Dot. Hang in there.”
“I love you, Pierce.”
Before Mostyn could answer her, the masked man appeared. In that ancient and ethereal tone of voice he said, “Y’ah hafh’drm gof’nn mgahnnn shuggnglui llll ‘drn ah nog.” Then the screen went blank.
Mostyn finished tying his tie, and joined Bardon and Jones. “I just talked to Dotty.”
“How?” Jones asked.
“The wonders of modern technology, Jones. The masked man phoned me and gave me a link to a website so I could talk with her. It seems if I don’t leave, Dotty becomes the wife or plaything for the weird grandson of the masked man. She’s scared, Dr Bardon. And you know Dotty doesn’t scare easily.”
“Did the masked man say anything?” Bardon asked.
“He did. I think it was R’lyehian.”
“Oh, dear, my boy. Can you repeat it?”
“I think so.” And Mostyn repeated the message to the best of his ability.
Bardon listened, pondered it for a minute or two, then said, “If you’ve repeated it correctly, the masked man said, ‘I am the Summoner of the Spawn preparing the gate, or way, for the One Who is coming.”



To Be Continued!




While waiting for the next installment, the entire Pierce Mostyn Paranormal series is available for your reading pleasure.

Do you hate cliffhangers? There’s none in this series. Each book stands by itself.

Do you think books are magic? That for just a little while you can be anywhere, doing anything? Then join Pierce Mostyn and experience some magic!

What people are saying about the Pierce Mostyn series:

“…a fast-paced story with lots of action, yet does not neglect the characters.”

“Hawes has a great time with this series and does a good job (too good) of leaving us wanting more.”

“This series is fun…”

“…a weird tale of adventure, humor, and horror.”




Are engaging characters your thing? Join my VIP Readers and you’ll get the Pierce Mostyn short story, “The Feeder” — available only to my VIP Readers! 

And you’ll be the first to know when the revised book version of The Medusa Ritual comes out!

The Medusa Ritual is copyright © 2019 by CW Hawes. All rights reserved.