Bolivar is a former police constable from Caracas. He’s also a champion marksman and sword fighter. He’s forty-seven years old, speaks nine languages, and weighs about thirty-nine pounds by the looks of him. But he’s a tough little guy, solid like a puma.
I’m not sure exactly what he’s doing here. He says he’s protecting us, and I expect he means from the zombies or the convicts or whoever the hell it is prowling around at night. But so far, he hasn’t done much except drink rum, sit by the pool, and look cool.
He says he’s going outside tonight. He’s planning to spend the night on top of the pyramid, and I’m going with him. At least I want to, but when I asked, he just ignored me.
Check this out – Kim just walked up to the edge of the pool, and right this minute, she just took her top off in front of him. And he hasn’t moved a muscle. Cyrus is standing out there too, and he just dropped his guavas. I have to go.
June 17, 2011
Seville, Spain
Bruce Wheeler
Guys, now things are starting to get strange. I’m still here at the Archive, but I’m alone, and the reading room doors are locked from the outside. I tried calling out but there doesn’t seem to be anyone downstairs at the desk. OK, now the lights just went out. This is starting to worry me. And apparently there is no electricity – I just checked. That means I’m on battery power. I’m going to log off for a bit and see if I can make a plan. If you guys are online, don’t go away.
June 17, 2011
Seville, Spain
Bruce Wheeler (continued) Me again. It’s 8:00 at night and I’ve been sitting here for three hours. The doors and windows are locked. I thought about trying to light a fire under the fire alarms to summon help. Well, I did more than think about it. I tried to light a fire for about an hour but I couldn’t figure out how to do it. At least I don’t have to worry about freezing to death — summer in southern Spain! Other than that, I’m out of ideas. I’ve been waving at the window but I’m too far up for anyone to notice, and this is all safety glass, so nobody can hear me.
About ten minutes ago a light went on downstairs. I haven’t heard anything, so it might be an automatic timer thing. I’m going to go…
Vasco Cuellar
age:
509
occupation:
street vagrant, missionary, conquistador
education:
ordained priest
personal:
single, penniless, insane
hometown:
Jerez, Spain
hobbies:
whittling
food/bev:
thighs/any jugged liquid
life goal:
redemption
fav movie:
Ravenous
obscurity:
prone to unresolved cannibalistic tendencies, morally unrestrained
June 17, 2011
Seville, Spain
Vasco Cuellar
http://www.perdido.blogspace9.ex
Caveat daemones. Abire. Abire. Abire. Cum Sopay fit, semper eum. Omnes perituri.
June 17, 2011
Seville, Spain
Bruce Wheeler (part 3)
Is that you, Leon? Can you not be a dick just for once? I’m having a difficult time, and I don’t need you fucking around right now. Since you’re awake and at the computer, could you please call the Archive on the emergency number or the Seville police or something? I’m getting thirsty. I haven’t had anything to drink in about six hours. I’d really rather not spend the night here.
I just translated your Latin message, Leon – “be wary of the demons. go away, go away. When [Sopay] comes, he comes always. All will perish.”
That’s a real hoot! As if things haven’t been freakish enough around here.
I’m going to log off now to save battery power. Can you make those calls so I can get the hell out of here?
Who the hell is Vasco Cuellar? Also, what is a Sopay?
June 17, 2011
Seville, Spain
Vasco Cuellar
Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc.
Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc.
Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc.
Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc. Veniet vobis nunc.
June 17, 2011
Seville, Spain
Bruce Wheeler (part 4)
Leon, I’m really hoping that this is just you being a dick. I’ve got to tell you – at this point I’m getting scared. It’s now 10:00 at night, it’s dark, and even a little cold. And I haven’t heard anything from anyone, except of course for the second creepy Latin post. Veniet vobis nunc – ‘He’ll come for you now.’ That’s cute. That’s really what I need.
Guys, there’s someone in the hall. I just tried calling out but there’s no answer. I can see him through the door. This is really starting to freak me out. OK, if you’re there, Leon, or whoever might be reading this, can you please call the Seville police and have them get in here? I tried contacting them by e-mail but I’m getting nothing back. I’m switching to voice activation mode, and I have the Spanish-to-English translation module on, so here it goes. I’m heading over to the door.
voice activation mode: enabled
indiv 1: Who’s there? Who’s out there, please? I can see you through the glass. Can you help me get out of here, please?
indiv 1: Why are you moving like that? Michelle, guys, if you’re online, there’s someone just outside the door and he is rocking back and forth and gesturing slowly with his hands. But he’s back in the shadows. I can’t see what he’s doing.
indiv 1: Can you call the guards please? Can you call the police, sir? Do you work here?
indiv 1: No, don’t go away. Where are you going? Please come back. Guys, I think a door just opened downstairs. There’s someone coming.
indiv 1: < shouting> In here! OK, it’s the police. They’re unlocking the door.
indiv 2: …lot of much trouble. Illegal to hide in archives after hours. Result in revocation of licensing and legal action, punishable…
indiv 1: …wasn’t hiding. I was working and then suddenly I looked around and nobody was here. Then I was talking to that man out in the hall but he left.
indiv 2: …is no man in the hall. Archive has been closed for hours.
indiv 1: There was a man standing outside the door in the shadows. He kept gesturing to me but I couldn’t understand what he was trying to tell me.
indiv 2: He is alone…yes. Yes. I will bring him.
indiv 1: Bring me where? Look, I just want to go home and drink some water. What are you doing? Ow, ow! Why are you handcuffing me? Can I see your badge, please? Wait, are you even real police? Who are you? Let me remind you that I am a United States citizen, and I have certain rights under…
voice activation mode: disabled
battery low; preparing to hibernate
June 17, 2011
Segovia, Peru
Michelle Cavalcante
Bruce, I don’t know who is more scared right now, you or me. We’ve had a rough night, and it sounds like you have too. Cyrus just tried calling you but the phone line is out. The router and the modem are both down. The generator is kaput. And yet Blogspace9 is still up. I can’t explain it. It must have something to do with these computers they sent us. I still don’t know what kind they are because the logo is in Chinese.
If you’re there, baby,
please get online. Sure, being locked in the Archive isn’t fun, but I’m hoping that it was just a fluke, that the police came and got you out. Cyrus says he’ll go into town in the morning, to call the consulate in Seville if we haven’t heard from you. We’d go into town tonight, except that we have a dead body out by the pool. Well, it was out by the pool a little while ago. Someone moved it. More on that in a minute.
Leon swears that he did not send you those Latin messages. And since I was out at the site with him all afternoon, I’m inclined to believe him. But this is an encrypted system, so it’s not clear how someone managed to get in and post something. If you asked me two hours ago, I would have said it was probably a hacker, or someone goofing around. But after what happened here tonight, I’m not so sure.
I didn’t mention this, but yesterday morning we found a jug of liquid up by the pyramid. Kim had climbed up top to have a smoke, and she found it sitting against the wall. Probably some kids left it there when they climbed up to smoke pot. That was my thinking.
But Leon, being Leon, tasted it. And he said it was that mescaline drink that shamans make from the San Pedro cactus. Now, we know that the shamans still do their occasional ceremonies on top of the larger pyramids, but I haven’t seen them out here. So I don’t know what to make of it.
Needless to say, Leon has been nipping at this jug throughout the day. On one hand, this is good because it gives him almost super-human strength. We opened up three 2×2 meter excavation units today behind the church, and we already have them down ten centimeters. He works like a demon.
On the other hand, this is bad because Leon is now super-paranoid, and convinced that the world is coming to a harrowing end. He’s nearly catatonic, just sitting by the fireplace, rocking back and forth. Cyrus finally took the jug away from him, and had a few tots himself. So I’m not sure how much use he’s going to be tonight either.
It was windy this afternoon, so we came back to the house early. Kim wanted to get back to work on the scans; we haven’t been able to do much with them because of our electricity issues. So we came back. I fell asleep and didn’t wake up until dinner. And just as we were having desert, that dog that lives in the kitchen lunged at the door, cracking the glass. It scared the crap out of me.
If you remember, this is the nicest dog. Old and completely docile, but she was howling in panic. Cyrus let her in, and she ran into the kitchen. We all followed to see what was up. The dog crawled under a chair in the corner and started shaking.
Then Leon started moaning like some kind of redneck banshee, waving his arms around. I’m thinking this was a result of copious mescaline intake, or demonic possession, possibly both. Finally Cyrus slapped him a couple of times and he calmed down.
It was at this point that we heard a whistle from in the dining room. So we went back in, and we found Bolivar standing by the open door. He was wearing this little robe he walks around in (it’s barely long enough to cover his butt), and he was pointing one of his guns out into the yard.
Bruce, there was a man standing in the yard. He was out back by the wall. You couldn’t see him clearly because of the bushes, but you could tell he was there.
Leon started moaning again, and Cyrus told everyone to stay in the house. But Bolivar walked right out into the yard, stopping only to light a cigarette.
Cyrus got right in front of him, but Bolivar pushed him aside. And at that point, the man by the wall started to come forward. In all likelihood, this was an attempted burglary, but it didn’t go well. For reasons that are poorly understood, the man just kept moving closer to the house, he kept coming and coming, and Bolivar shot him. So now we’re going to have to deal with the police in the ...
Kim here - Cyrus just called Michelle into the study for a chit-chat, and I can’t believe what I’m reading here. This is exactly not what happened. This was not an attempted robbery, no sir. This was a goddamn demon or something. As soon as that man came forward, you could see he wasn’t right. There was something wrong with his face, I could see that clearly, even with just the moonlight. I’ve never been more scared.
He was unsteady, moving like a drunk, but he came right at Bolivar. I don’t know how, but suddenly it got very dark. I turned around and saw that the fire had gone out in the fireplace. And when I looked back, the thing was right in front of Bolivar. If he had eyes at all, I didn’t see them. He opened his mouth to scream, I could see that much, but nothing came out. Then, faster than you would have thought possible, he clawed at Bolivar’s face. Then Bolivar shot him in the chest.
For at least a minute, nobody moved. Then the man, the thing, came at him again, and Bolivar shot him again and again, and then again, until he fell.
Cyrus came running out and had a good long look at the body. I didn’t know what to do, but I wasn’t going anywhere near it, and Leon didn’t even move from the couch, didn’t even look up. When Bolivar came back inside, he had a big scratch on his face. It was bleeding, so I helped him clean it. And when I looked back at the yard, I saw Cyrus dragging the body behind the utility shed.
And one more thing, I was cold, shivering cold, unnaturally so. I still am. I don’t know what I’m more shocked by, the fact that I watched a man being killed, or my near certainty that he was already long dead before he walked into our yard. What the hell is going on, Bruce, and why is Michelle pretending it didn’t happen?
June 18, 2011
Seville, Spain
Bruce Wheeler
///auto-refresh/// connection re-established
battery at 1%// connect to power supply to prevent data from being lost
voice activation mode: enabled
indiv 1:
indiv 1: Help me, someone! Anybody!
battery low// preparing to hibernate
June 18, 2011
Cupertino, CA
Administrator
Our analysts have recently detected an unauthorized user on your account. Pursuant with your contract, all users must be identified and processed in advance. Yet we have no paperwork on the individual identifying as ‘Perdido/Vasco Cuellar.’ Please advise.
Our analysts are also concerned about the safety of your project personnel. Mr. Bolivar shared with us, via satellite phone, some of the details of your intruder last night. He has indicated that he will continue his investigation, and that he can continue to guarantee your safety. Our confidence in Mr. Bolivar is absolute.
It would appear, however, that Dr. Bruce Wheeler is under some duress. His connection was briefly reestablished this morning. We lost it in under a minute but were able to locate his position. He is still in Seville, no more than 500 yards from the Archive. Be advised that our retrieval efforts for Dr. Bruce Wheeler are already underway. Pursuant to section 6.1.29 of you contract, we are activating several additional software modules which may be of use:
1) Latin to English language translator
2) long-life backup battery activator to restore power
3) GPS tracking
Radu
age:
50
occupation:
senior enforcer to Melchor Negromonte
education:
unknown, possibly none
personal:
married, details unknown
hometown:
Granada, Spain
hobbies:
video games
food/bev:
mutton/ strong beer
life goal:
serve clan with honor
fav movie:
The Godfather I and II (not III)
obscurity:
expertise with firearms and edged weapons, once took a bullet intended for Negromonte
June 18, 2011
Seville, Spain
Bruce Wheeler
///auto-refresh/// connection re-established
long-life battery at 82%
voice activation mode: enabled remotely
indiv 1: …when we
have satisfied ourselves that you are telling the truth. Now answer my questions.
indiv 2: I’ve already told you everything I know. Why am I tied up?
indiv 1: How did you come to learn of this book?
indiv 2: What is this book you keep asking about?
indiv 1: The book – Sebastiano Gota’s delusional account of his time in Peru. It is not in the public domain. It is not what you are looking for. It is not in your best interests to find it. You were not tasked with finding a book. You were not tasked with following leads to Sebastiano Gota. You were tasked with finding the hoard.
indiv 2: I...I don’t know what you’re talking about. We’re researching the history of a colonial church. What is the hoard?
indiv 1: What is your interest in Sebastiano Gota’s writings? His writings are forbidden. You were not tasked with finding the Malleus.
indiv 2: What the hell are you talking about?
indiv 1: You are perhaps moments from your death. You can’t even begin to understand the peril you are in. You found a book that does not exist, do you understand that? A book that was never meant to exist. A book that must be destroyed.
indiv 2: I don’t know what you’re talking about. I haven’t found any book. Look, I don’t know who you are, but I am an American citizen. People are looking for me.
indiv 1: They won’t find you. Where have you hidden the Malleus? Did you give it to Negromonte?
indiv 2: I told you, I haven’t found any book. Can you at least tell me where I am? The man who came in earlier is a policeman. I recognize him from when I was at the police station. Am I under arrest?
The Mummies of Blogspace9 Page 5