The Adventures of Andrew Doran: Box Set

by Matthew Davenport

  The lead car was just out of sight around the bend in the road, so I took the opportunity to pound on the back of the cab and then push the driver out and onto the road. I could hear Leo moving around in the back before a gunshot went off. A few seconds later, Leo joined me in the cab.

  Leo had brought with him several of the machine guns and pistols of the dead soldiers as well as the bag that held my magical sword and .38 pistol. He'd also had the wherewithal to put on one of the German uniforms. It had a bloody hole in the front, but it would serve its purpose when viewed from afar.

  "We are now driving a truck filled with dead Germans." Leo stated with a smile. "How did you know that it was my birthday?" I returned his smile and he added, "What is the plan now, Doran?"

  I nodded to the lead car that we'd just caught up to. "Now we let our escort take us directly to the headquarters of the Traum Kult. We bust in, we get the book, and we kill as many monsters and Nazis as we can."

  ***

  For the next four hours Leo and I sat in complete silence. I don't know what had caused the silence in Leo: the possibility of discovery before we arrived in Berlin, the insanely impossible odds that we faced, or confusion still over the entire Olivia discussion. As for myself, I knew exactly what was going through my mind.

  The Traum Kult.

  They were only slightly more than myth. Germany's own collection of the brightest and most powerful magic users loyal to the Reich. Very little was known of them. I had no idea how many people they consisted of or what so-called deities they had allied themselves with. The only thing that I knew was a very generic sense of their power. They had a lot of it, in the way that New York City had a lot of people.

  The only thing working in mine and Leo's favor was that having a lot of power didn't mean that they knew how to use it. They had no real control, and that was why the Traum Kult wanted the Necronomicon. Through their poorly translated German copy, they'd learned to step into the dreams of people from across the world and command beasts in both our world and the Dream Lands. With all of their power, they'd only managed to become basic practitioners with their copy of the book. That was why they wanted the English copy of the Necronomicon.

  It was probably why they wanted me.

  The power itself was also shrouded in mystery. Everyone who'd heard of the Traum Kult had heard a

  different rumor as to how they collected their power. I was under the very vague belief that they'd each sworn fealty to one of the Great Old Ones mentioned in the book, but there were other theories. Some people claimed the Traum Kult had found out how to tap into the void itself, much like Karl Freeman had. Another popular rumor was that the Traum Kult was made completely of the oldest shoggoths, each having forgotten what it was while hiding in the shape of humanity.

  I hoped the latter idea was the most true. Shoggoths were cockroaches, scurrying through the dark in search of stray souls. I'm a boot, and I love stepping on cockroaches. Unfortunately, I was fairly certain that the Traum Kult weren't shoggoths and that meant I was probably in way over my head.

  That brought my thoughts around to Dean Brandon Smythe. I was willing to bet that he was planning on my not coming back from this quest of his. The idea of full access to the book was too sweet to say no to, and he knew he could offer it because I was most likely going to die in the process of retrieving it. While my death wouldn't be as ideal an end solution as actually getting the book and saving the world, the Dean probably saw it as a win either way.

  If I did succeed, should I give the book back to him? That question kept plaguing me, and a week before heading into Berlin I would have had no problem with keeping the book out of the Dean's hands with just as much fervor as I was using to get it out of the Nazis'. Now that I had glimpsed a future with me bringing about the end of days, things were no longer that simple. Not to mention my theory about Olivia that I hadn't told Leo about...

  I shook my head to clear it as I realized we were entering Berlin. Out of all the borders we crossed and cities we entered, Berlin had been the easiest simply because of our escort. The lead car spoke once to a guard as we slowed in the streets, but then picked up pace. When the same guard only waved us on, I nodded my appreciation and continued in line with the lead car.

  We drove through Berlin for about ten minutes before I knew we'd reached the headquarters of the Traum Kult.

  It was long and blocky with Corinthian columns for decoration in the front. If I hadn't sensed the rippling of power coming off of the building I would have thought it a campus building straight from the grounds of Miskatonic University. It stood three stories tall and looked as though it had been built at least a century ago.

  The lead car parked directly in front of the building and began to empty immediately. They were greeted by a large collection of Nazi soldiers who filed from the building and aimed their direction at us. They wanted to see the prize that was Dr. Andrew Doran.

  I told Leo to get ready and then I slowed as if I were about to do the same parking maneuver.

  As we slowed, I yelled, "Now!" and Leo brought his machine gun up and out the window. His gunfire cut into the soldiers of both the vehicle and the building and sent sprays of blood and chips of cement up and into the air around them. He peppered the cars and the front of the building, tearing through the front doors and into whatever lobby lay beyond.

  Once I had assumed that we'd created enough chaos, I gunned it. I could see in the mirror and the few soldiers who were able to avoid Leo's attack began shouting and several jumped into the recently parked car to give chase.

  I took the truck around the next corner, almost a block down from the Traum Kult headquarters. "Leo!" I shouted. "Take the wheel!" He did as I asked, and I grabbed my bag with the sword and pistol inside it. Without saying a farewell, I leapt from the truck and rolled with on the pavement, hitting my shoulder harder than I had intended. I let out a yelp of pain, but came up on my feet and ducked down the nearest alley. After I had attached the scabbard and holster, I tossed the bag I'd gotten in Andorra aside, and began working my way back toward the Traum Kult.

  Leo would lead the Nazis on a chase long enough for me to get into the building. Hopefully, this would

  keep the building undefended long enough to allow me to simply walk in, get the book, and walk out.

  While I hadn't seen the side of the Traum Kult headquarters that I approached, I easily recognized it as the same building. It stank of the power of the void, and I could almost see it pouring out of the windows and off of the walls.

  I set about peeking into the windows and then testing them when I saw no one on the other side. Finally finding a window that slid quietly, I hopped up into it and onto the floor of the room inside.

  I'd entered into a library. My head suddenly swarmed with energies and I felt almost drunk from the sensation of it all. I reached out with my thoughts and noticed that the power flooding my senses was from all of the books.

  I was standing inside the largest personal collection of occult and magical manuals I had ever witnessed.

  I was in Heaven.

  It crossed my mind, only for an instance, that maybe the power radiating from this collection of books was the secret to the deep well of energy at the command of the Traum Kult. I dismissed the idea quickly, as the power from these books was nothing to the supposed power at the Kult's command.

  I had to slap myself just to get my head back into the here and now. These books, while covetous to any with my education, were not my goal. Maybe, I could come back for them...

  I shook my head again to clear it and walked over to the door. Before I had even reached the door, I sensed something else, hidden in the fog of the power emanating from the books. I could hear whispers, and between the pleas for help and the promises of power, I could feel the floor and the walls surging with a different power.

  This was the power of the Traum Kult, and it was begging for me to tap into it. This was an exciting turn of events and something I hadn't pla
nned for. Coming into the home of the world's most corrupted regime of magical users was a scary prospect as only Dr. Andrew Doran, archaeologist and part-time user of the dark arts could truly appreciate. I was coming into a firefight with a pea-shooter and a large amount of stupidity. It had never crossed my mind that I could tap into the power of the Traum Kult itself.

  I could feel the power surging within me, begging me to use it. I could feel why it wanted me to use it, too. It had been waiting for me, the bringer of Cthulhu to come and claim it for my own. I still had my sense of self and almost recoiled at the power's title for me.

  The Bringer of Cthulhu.

  They wanted me to let out the call and awake his majesty from sunken R'yleh. My only relief came in the fact that I still felt very against the idea and the power didn't seem to care. It didn't care how I used it as long as I was willing to use it.

  The downside of new power, specifically power that likes to name you and promise you fun things like world domination and unlimited everything, is that it corrupts the soul of the user. I could feel the power there, but it hadn't worked its way into me yet. Instead, it was only waiting for me to pick it up and swing it at my enemies.

  I knew it was a trap, but I couldn't deny the advantage that this new found source of power would give me in the next moments to come.

  My pea-shooter just became a tank.

  Keeping my grasp on the power, I continued my walk to the door and pressed my ear against it. I couldn't hear much of anything and pulled the door open, only a crack.

  The room I was in opened to a long hallway. I had a general idea of where I was within the building and I slid out of the room, closing the door quietly behind me. I walked the hallway until I could hear a large amount of noise in the form of boots and shouting. I came to the end of the hall and it opened into a large central room. It was the room that I was certain the stairs Leo had just shot up led to. I could see the large and grandiose

  doors that led outside to the street and across from them and near to me was a wide and extravagant set of stairs leading to the second floor landing.

  The room was filled with beings in Nazi uniforms: men and monsters alike. I could see shoggoths, not even trying very hard to retain the human shape, standing next to soldier men proudly wearing the decorations of the Followers of Yig. Beyond them were a group of men who could be nothing other than Cthulhu cultists. The self-mutilation of their own bodies overly evident through the blood stained uniforms they wore. Beyond the Cthulhu cultists, the fishmen of Dagon stood wearing only trousers. Across their pale fish chests they had crudely painted swastikas resting adjacent to the Eye of Dagon, a crudely drawn etching meant to symbolize the eye of their parent.

  This collection of monsters was exactly as I'd feared when I had interrogated the bartender in Andorra. That many normal soldiers would normally be an issue, but that many beings from the dark arts made this entire idea seem almost impossible.

  I could hear the power of the Traum Kult whispering to me, promising me that these monsters would be nothing before my might. I knew that sooner or later I would have to deal with most if not all of these beasts, so I let the power continue its whispering and allowed it to bolster my ego and confidence.

  I was about to do something incredibly stupid when a voice reached across time and chilled me to my spine.

  "Where is Dr. Doran?" Lukas Herrmann, the Nazi scientist from Andorra, shouted. He was storming his way down the stairs, his flesh incredibly pale. His pace brought him directly in front of the Cthulhu cultists and he slapped one of them across the face. "Something is terribly wrong and you stand there, barely conscious." He turned and directed his attention to everyone in the room before shouting in German, "Everyone, chamber a round and be ready for anything. The Traum Kult would not be happy if Dr. Andrew Doran were to just walk in here."

  As if on cue, a loud slam came from the front doors and a large number of human soldiers stormed in, pushing along a bound Leo.

  The marks on his face implied that he'd given them a damned good fight before they brought him in. He was also bleeding a little from his temple. I was happy that he was still alive but I was equally concerned that Lukas Herrmann might not want to keep him that way.

  My surprise at seeing Herrmann there was swept away in the conversation that followed.

  A human soldier stepped forward and told Herrmann, "We were able to overtake the truck and seized this Frenchman."

  Herrmann looked Leo up and down with the same regard that someone might look at the mess a dog had left on the carpet. "Any sign of Doran?" He directed his question to the soldier who had spoken, without taking his eyes off of Leo.

  The soldier didn't move as he said, "There was no sign of him, sir."

  Herrmann took his eyes away from Leo and poked the soldier in the chest. "Form a perimeter around the building. I don't want him thinking that he can just walk in here, I want him dragged in." As an afterthought, Herrmann added, "Don't kill him unless he doesn't give you a choice."

  The soldier nodded and began barking orders to the rest of the soldiers that had followed Leo in. Herrmann jabbed Leo in the chest and stated to the soldiers holding him, "Follow me. He will be useful."

  I watched as the soldiers keeping Leo in line dragged him up the large staircase in the wake of Lukas Herrmann.

  I pulled myself back down the hall a little ways until I was confident that I wasn't going to be seen for a while. The monsters were still all guarding the main hall and I'd have to go through it to get to Leo. I looked down at my hands and realized I was shaking.

  It wasn't anger or adrenaline; I was surprisingly calm. It only took me a moment to realize that it was the power of the building surging through me. It wanted me to use it so badly that it was practically dragging me into the fight.

  I drew my sword and pistol and decided that there was no reason not to listen to the magic.

  I stepped forward into the main hall and threw a curse at the door that the Nazis had dragged Leo in through, locking it and reinforcing it with a wall of magic. The curse would keep people, or other things, from flanking me in the moments to come.

  The surprise of my appearance was enough to allow me two quick cuts with my sword, taking out the gun arms of the nearest two soldiers. I had assumed they were the only humans in the room, but their limbs both melted at the magical swords touch, and they fell to the ground writhing in pain.

  The barely held together shoggoth stood nearest to them, I leapt at the same time it did. As it jumped at me, it let go of the wavy human form it had chosen as well as the Nazi uniform, and came at me in a fully tentacled mass of teeth and eyes. I could feel the magic surging through me and allowed it to guide my movements. The monster's teeth-covered tentacles lashed out at me, trying to take chunks of my neck and arms, but I brought the sword down on every attack, cleaving its slimy arms. Each tentacle melted at the sword's touch puddled in a steamy stench on the floor.

  Two dead Nazi soldiers and a writhing and dying mass of shoggoth parts are about as far as I got before the Cthulhu Cultists, several other shoggoths, and the followers of Yig all raised their machine guns and opened fire.

  On pure reflex, I put my hands in front of me and projected a magical shield. The energy rippled around me. Normally, the power of my shield would be enough to deflect a poorly aimed spell, but nothing direct. With the power of the Traum Kult behind me, I was completely surprised by the power of my shield as it deflected and stopped bullets from a large collection of machine guns. It wasn't going to last indefinitely, and I could already feel the strength in the shield beginning to wane, but I was greatly impressed.

  The gunfire let up just as my shield was about to collapse, and I didn't hesitate. They all dropped their guns and ran at me en masse.

  In one fluid motion, I drew my magical .38 and fired three shots. The first two shots take out two cultists, each in the head, while my third shot barely misses a shoggoth.

  Three Children of Yig reached me
first and each was wielding a barbed short sword. The blades were lined with gold and ended in a large barb. The length of each blade was covered in sigils etched in gold. I'd have loved to have time to examine each of the sigils on the swords, but they were moving much too close to my flesh, and I decided to save it for another time.

  I deflected the first blade with my magical sword, simply slapping the blade aside, before the second came in at my waist. I spun quickly with the momentum of the first attack and parried that blade away as well. Still spinning, I caught the stomach of the third Yig worshiper with the edge of my blade and removed him from the fight before he had even entered it. I slapped the first attacker in the face with my sword, slicing him as it connected, and then stabbed the second through his chest before his hooked blade could sink into my shoulder. While the first still clutched at his face, I brought my blade out of his companion's chest and swung back around, taking off the first's head.

  I turned back toward the rest of my attackers, slightly surprised that no one else had joined in the fight, when I saw the Cthulhu Cultists chanting and holding their arms high above their heads. I looked down and realized that I had noticed all of this too late. The granite floor had liquefied and tentacles were coming up and out of it, searching around for me. As if that wasn't enough, the follower of Yig who I'd disemboweled was standing back up, a vacant look on his face and the sword still in his hand.

  The floor-tentacles were still searching for me when he attacked. He might have been mostly dead, but he

  fought with a zeal that he hadn't had in life. I blocked three of his swings but only barely, as he brought his barbed sword toward my face. I slapped the sword away and brought mine forward to cleave his head, but missed by inches as the floor-tentacles found my waist and leg, dragging me toward the liquid granite.

  Frustrated, I realized that I still had my pistol drawn and took aim at the tentacles. I was about to pull the trigger when the magic whispered in my mind again. Instead of firing, I barked a spell as loudly as I could.