CARTER [P2C5] – The Circle
The Chronicles of Samuel Carter – Part II: Chapter Five
This is Part Two of the Chronicles of Samuel Carter. If you haven’t read Part One, yet, please find the link below.
And now for the continuation…
Part II – Chapter Five: The Circle
A blood moon shone down on a stone circle, seven hooded figures, eyes to the sky, arms wide, entranced in chant.
Talha Ka Ran Bara’da Kan.
The air whispered with static, the forest shook, a night owl fled with a shrieking hoot, trees moaned in the wind, lamenting with a chill that ran deeper than their roots.
A rush of water, bursting bolts whizzing past his ear, metal screaming, sparks of light cleaving vision in two, fading, a moment of nothing, breath stopped, eyes dilated, time arrested, through a scintillating crack in space, the submarine bore headlong into the frozen ground deep inside the Black Forest, crushing trees like twigs, slid onto a sheet of crisp snow and lay still, a strange steel whale stranded on a stranger shore.
Bartleby lay on the floor in the command room, obscured from sight by billowing steam from broken pipes, lights flashed in colours of chaos, joined by a dissonance of destruction, the smell of fear, primal, gripped the professor tight. Petrified, Thomas stood, his face covered in cuts by steel fragments torn by sheer force of impact, the hatch to the torpedo room unhinged, crumpled like a sheet of paper. Something not from this world emerged from the flaming inferno, its eyes orbs of purest light, light that cast no shadow.
The professor fell to his knees, head bowed low. “May Maat save me. ”
“Silence, mortal.”
The words burned in his mind.
“Look at me.”
His head obeyed, and he knew true desperation, a lost child drowning in an ocean of white, his tears red, his flesh curled, unworthy of this cosmic presence; his breath hastened, his heart raced, urging to burst from his chest.
“Maat can’t save you, fool.”
“Please…make it stop,” Thomas seized, veins bulging, body entrapped by light, invaded by invisible fire, boiling blood, skin seething, bones cracking, a weak cry, a whimper, writhing in agony, retching and coughing as the weight of death was lifted from him. “Doctor Carter…” he rasped.
A maniacal laughter echoed through the twisted steel ship.
“Serve or die.”
Bartleby stood next to the command console, chest heaving, a bloodied hand on the EMP switch. “Back into your cage, dog,” he spat.
An electromagnetic pulse shook the submarine, cut the tether between Samuel and the pod and with a shriek, the light split in two and white eyes flickered.
“Nooo!” Samuel cried. Energy erupted from his body, ripped into streaks, waves receding, metal hissed, turned white, a haze of whispers, sins of the father long forgotten, weighed and sentenced, a mother judged, devoured, purged into oblivion. Memories came flooding back to Samuel, grindstones around his neck, he sank against the pod, his noose, humming, soothing, beckoning. His sight faded.
When Samuel woke, he was lying in a warm bed. A scent of pine needles and wax candles filled his lungs, laced with the smell of a wood fire crackling in another room. He could hear voices, many voices, an agitated discussion about what he could not say, the words obscured by thick walls. He wanted to get up but found himself bound. He wanted to speak but found himself silenced by a piece of cloth. He wanted to shout, but no sound crossed his lips. He swallowed hard, a taste of salt and iron in his mouth. He tried to see, but all remained dark, and fear crept into his heart. There, a shimmer, a shape, light. He tried to focus on the sliver of orange seeping through the cracks of the doorframe, but the more he tried, the less he saw. He closed his eyes, swallowed, and lay still on his back, listening in the darkness, concentrating on the sounds, the words, the voices. A name. Interloper. Kill. More arguments. Conduit. Chance. Vote. A decision. The voices fell silent.
The door opened, flooding the room with a sea of amber painting dark silhouettes in darker robes approaching him. One stepped up to him and removed his gag, nothing more than a fuzzy spectre wearing a black hole for a face. Samuel gasped, his body aching, straining against the sharp leather straps around his ankles and wrists.
“Shh, shh. Be still, Doctor Carter. Try not to talk. You are safe now,” the shadow spoke with a soft, sanguine voice, the one he had heard last. “I am sorry it took us so long to bring you here. Ah, but you must wonder, where is here, who are we, and what happened to your companions?”
Samuel nodded, his vision still vague, a hint of a face now wavering next to him.
“Your companions are safe—for now. What will happen next is up to you, Doctor Carter. Your vision will return in time, as will your voice. That other voice, though, we need to make sure it does not return. Do you understand? Your friend, the Spook, put you in this state. In a way, so did we. We did not intend to summon all of Hellstone’s infernal machinery here, only the vessel, only you.”
“Pod,” Samuel rasped.
“Ah, yes. We have recovered the cage. It is empty. Which means the energy must still be inside you, Doctor Carter, which brings us to our proposition,” the leader kneeled next to Samuel, his hooded black blob of a face close to his, a hint of eyes glinting in the darkness.
“Your little adventure, Doctor Carter, has unleashed an ancient force sought by those ruled by such inane belief, to control what cannot be controlled, possessed by greed and lust for power, the good corrupted, kingdoms rise and fall, wars are waged, won and lost, we conquer, we liberate, yet that thirst for blood remains unquenched. More blood will flow, all blood, a flood will wash over the world, drown every man, woman and child unless…we stop the cycle. We are The Circle. You are the Conduit. Thus begins The Ritual.” The man’s lips were close to his ears as he whispered. “Do you accept?”
TFTD Community
Thank you for reading, and to all new subscribers, welcome and thank you for joining! Please leave a comment and say Hi in the chat or on Discord, or drop me a line via email. I am always happy to hear from you.
If you liked reading this, feel free to click the ❤️ button on this post so that more people can discover it on Substack. 🙏
"Serve or Die!" ( Wow! What a line!) These chapters keep my head racing back and forth from one thing to another, Ipfelkofer, like trying to follow a string that cannot be unwound. (Is this what dementia feels like?) I don't even know who Bartleby IS ... Hooded figures! "Submarines in the forest." "Back to your cage, dog!" " Noooooo!" "Ah, but you must wonder, where is here, who are we, and what happened to your companions?” (You and me both, Carter!) “Do you accept?” You bet. Bring it on. This is the most exciting, undecipherable story I have ever read.
It's wild where this story is taking us, from that straightfoward "little adventure" all the way back at the start in the expedition in Egypt to then this with the Circle, Conduit and Ritual.
Keep 'em coming! What will The Ritual be?