Esoterica 1: Liam's Awakening: A Lovecraftian Fantasy Harem Adventure (Esoterica Chronicles)

by Virgil Knightley

  “So, I think we didn’t need to debate the doors as much as we did,” I said. Now that we could see our surroundings, it was plain that all three doors led to the exact same large chamber. The ceiling in here was also a lot higher than outside the room, and there was a large chair at the center of a staged area that resembled a throne, but no king sat atop it. The most obvious thing to notice, however, was the smell.

  It reeks in here, Uther said.

  He was right. It smelled like rotten food, rotten flesh, and shit. I looked around the room. Nothing. Confused, I looked up.

  “Oh,” I said dimly.

  There, crawling silently above us on the high ceiling of the chamber, was something that was halfway between a mutated spider and a man. It had eight limbs, each of them with humanlike hands and feet, but its skin was a deep blue—a coloration that was hard to decipher due to the red light of my ruby—and it had eyes of various kinds and sizes spattered across its face and chest, and its many-fanged mouth, or the closest approximation of a mouth that it possessed, was on its stomach. This thing was an abomination, plain and simple.

  Kill it with fire, Uther’s voice rumbled in my mind.

  “Exploding Skull!” I shouted, and a stream of skulls emitted from my hand. Uther himself was able to do little from the ground but be the channel for additional skulls, and the skeletons looked even more clueless. I watched in frustration as the monster deftly dodged as it skittered across the ceiling, even avoiding the fiery explosions.

  “Drain Lifeforce!” I shouted.

  Please stop, Uther groaned.

  I attempted to shoot a beam of life-draining energy at the hideous thing—but to no avail. My spell made contact with nothing but the dusty air as it moved too rapidly for me to catch up with.

  Don’t aim at it, Uther suggested, Aim where it’s going to be.

  Of course. The ultimate principle of ranged boss fights. I readjusted my mindset and let loose another barrage of Exploding Skulls—trademark pending—catching it by surprise on a third and final blast as it was propelled off the ceiling by the blow.

  “Yes!” I shouted victoriously as it fell—until I realized it was falling directly on top of me. Suddenly I was pinned under its legs, staring this thing directly in its horridly malodorous maw. “Regret!” I shouted as I tried to shove it off of me, but to no avail. “Deep regret!”

  Uther wasted no time, pouncing on the thing just before its teeth had the opportunity to sink into my flesh. I shuddered to think of what I might have contracted even if I’d survived such an injury.

  I sat up and saw Uther and the two remaining skeletons going buck wild on the creature, resulting in one limb being torn off, followed by another, followed by something which, I suppose, could probably have been called the thing’s ‘head’ at some point, but it was far too mutated and corrupted now to be recognized as such.

  I cast a life-draining spell once again, but this time didn’t announce it. The spell made contact with the creature, still flailing, but thanks to the spell, what little life it had left came to an end, and it slumped to the ground with a generous, satisfying thud. Uther stubbornly continued ripping off legs and chewing on its body, but the skeletons ceased their assault and stood by waiting for an order. They knew death when they saw it and saw no point in continuing.

  I walked over to the throne at the center of the room and investigated it. It was crusty with some sort of dried sticky substance. I didn’t want to imagine what it could have been, but it was thick and scablike—and decidedly nasty. That’s all I needed to know. Looking behind the chair, though, I saw a crown and a scepter.

  “Bingo!” I shouted.

  Uther walked over to me with a leg in his mouth to see for himself what I’d found. I showed him the loot with pride.

  Nice work, he said. Are we done here, then?

  “I think so. Grab the head so we have some proof.”

  He nodded and picked the thing’s malformed head in his mighty jaws. I couldn’t stop staring at the crown. It was this jagged, silvery thing. It’d look good on my head, I thought. I should put it on.

  “Hey, Uther,” I called out, “You think I should put this on?” I held the spiky crown up for him to see.

  I’m gonna have to give a Super-No to that idea, my dude, he said.

  “What do you know?” I asked crossly, holding it covetously in both hands, eyes lustfully fixated on its every glimmering spike. “And stop learning slang from Randolph. Stupid weirdly colloquial fox.”

  Chapter 26

  Revelations in the Library

  I returned to campus through the waypoint spell, showing up just outside of the school grounds, looking at the walls and gate, sweaty, a bit scratched up and covered in blasphemous fluids. A bit worse for wear, honestly, but then again, it could have been far worse still. Spider-Man back there could have laid its eggs in me or something fittingly macabre, for example.

  I was weary and battle-worn, so I opted to ride Uther in through the gate of Esoterica, happening upon Brian and Randolph walking back to the dorms from class. They took one look at me, and I watched in amusement as Randolph groaned in mock disgust.

  “Now you’re just being extra,” he said, rolling his eyes.

  “Fuck you, I’m tired,” I said. I pulled the crown out of my satchel. “I need a second opinion, boys,” I started. “I should put this on, right?”

  Brian vigorously shook his head. Randolph laughed for a minute until his face soured and tensed up with the apparent realization that I was serious.

  “You’re joking, right?” he said. “That thing is C.A.F,” he said.

  “What’s C.A.F.? I asked, scratching my stubble with one of the crown’s many spikes.

  “Cursed As Fuck,” Brian explained. “Just absorb it, cultivate, and be done.”

  I shook my head. “I’ll think about it.”

  I told you, Uther sang smugly.

  “Shut your vexing vulpine mouth,” I mumbled, hopping off his back. “Where are you two headed?” I asked the guys.

  “Dahlia’s at the library,” Randolph said. “She said she found something there we may want to check out.”

  My lips parted, remembering that I was the one who sent her there to begin with. “Good girl,” I said. “I think it pertains to me. Mind if I tag along?”

  They took another look at me. Brian looked like he was going to choke. “Do you want to, like, clean up or something?”

  “Relax, I got this,” Randolph said, and he chanted something ancient and eerie as he brandished his rapier in front of my face. Right before my eyes, the goop and guts evaporated, and the dried blood that was smeared around my slowly scabbing wounds turned to mist and floated away. Pretty sure I smelled less sweaty, too!

  “Neat trick!” I conceded.

  “It ain’t necromancy, punk, so you can’t learn it,” he gloated, sticking out his tongue. I flicked my wand and hastily imprisoned him in a cage of bones that sprang from the ground beneath him. “Oh, real fucking mature,” he said. To my surprise, one slash of his magic sword sent the bones tumbling to the ground. “Shall we, then?” he said, swooping his arms dramatically toward the direction of the library.

  “We shall,” Brian responded with a showy curtsy.

  I nodded in agreement, and we headed to the library, where we were escorted by the creepy Mr. Shaw to the study room occupied by Dahlia, Carmilla, and Evelyn. We bid him a hasty farewell and walked through the doors, anticipation creeping down my spine.

  “Hey ladies,” I said, plopping down next to Dahlia. Carmilla, who was seated between Dahlia and Evelyn, stood up immediately and switched her seat to the one on the other side of me, so I was once again sandwiched by my two harem girls. Both girls gave me a quick peck on the cheek, and Carmilla reached for my hand as Dahlia began clearing her throat and looking over the pile of notes she’d assembled.

  “So I guess I’m just a sack of shit, then?” Evelyn grumbled at her sudden abandonment. Carmilla looked past me to flash her
a guilty and apologetic smile but said nothing.

  “Don’t worry, Evelyn baby, Papa Randy’s here to cozy on up to you,” he said, taking the newly vacated position to the demoness’s left.

  “Lucky me,” she groaned through a sarcastic smile and a flailing forked tongue. “Aren’t I the belle of the freaking ball.”

  Brian sat on the other side of her and gave her a kiss on the cheek. “You’re still the prettiest to me, love,” he said.

  “Thanks, but you’re gay. Doesn’t count.” The three of them shared a chuckle that lasted just long enough for Dahlia to gather her thoughts.

  “It’s good that everyone’s here,” she began. “I did as you said, Liam, and you’re right. Something is very wrong.”

  I sat up anxiously and leaned forward. She pulled out a file filled with old school newsletter clippings and bulletins. They smelled musty, and the color of many of them was much closer to yellow than it was the white that they probably began as.

  “Every time a student moves on and decides to leave the academy, the Headmistress and the student’s adviser take a photo with them. It’s a tradition, sort of a simple commencement or graduation,” she said. “But not really anything as complicated as that. Anyway, the photos end up in the school newsletter.”

  She placed a handful of clipped photos on the page. A few of them were of Eliza Waite, the current Headmistress. She looked pretty much identical to how she looked now, with the exception of darker hair in a few of the earlier dated photos, and a face with fewer wrinkles.

  Then Dahlia put out a few more photos of the previous Headmaster, a man named Quinton Waite, judging by the caption.

  “The first thing that jumped out at me was the fact that their surnames were the same,” Dahlia said.

  I nodded, and I knew the answer to that one. “The Headmistress adopted the surname Waite after she took over the post,” I said. “She told me as much.”

  “And doesn’t that seem odd to you?” Dahlia asked.

  What could I do but shrug? It was odd, no doubt, but she was an odd woman. “So what? This isn’t much to go on.”

  “She’s just getting started,” Carmilla said, fidgeting excitedly in her seat. “There’s more.”

  Dahlia picked up one of the photos of a headmaster called Elias. He was posing with a sweet-looking twenty-something student, grinning enthusiastically, while Elias Waite merely sneered at the camera. “Take a look at the caption here,” Dahlia said.

  I read it aloud. “Eliza Baker.” My jaw dropped. “No fucking way,” I said. “Eliza. That’s—”

  “The Headmistress!” Carmilla shouted excitedly. I looked around. The gravity of this epiphany was lost on most of the people here, but they were clearly focused and trying to piece it together as much as I was. I appreciated the feeling of solidarity.

  “Hold on a second, look at her face!” I said pointing to Eliza Baker, who I now immediately recognized as the Headmistress when I looked at her more closely, “She’s smiling! Brightly!”

  “So what?” Randolph asked.

  “The Headmistress doesn’t do that,” I said. “She’ll weakly smile in approval every once in a while, but most of the time she just—”

  “Sneers?” interrupted Dahlia. She tapped the photo of the previous Headmaster in Eliza’s commencement photo.

  I nodded. “Exactly. All the headmasters have the exact same sneer. It’s creepy.”

  “It’s not a coincidence, Liam,” Dahlia said. “They’re all the same person.”

  My heart slammed the breaks, stopping dead in my chest as I processed what she’d said. If that was true, if the Headmistress, all the way back to Asenath Waite, was just one person, then that meant they switched bodies every generation.

  “Hold on a minute,” Randolph said, tapping the photo again. “What’s different about this photo with Elias and Headmistress Eliza compared to the others?”

  Everyone leaned in close for a closer look. Half of us were bumping shoulders and elbows. We were like the Scooby Gang pouring over clues.

  “Jinkies!” I exclaimed. Everyone flashed me a confused look. “Where’s her adviser? The Headmaster and the adviser are in every other commencement photo, but only the Headmaster is in this one.”

  “Maybe the Headmaster was her adviser?” Evelyn said with a shrug.

  “You know who else has a Headmaster for their adviser?” Brian asked.

  “Fucking Liam!” Carmilla shouted, snapping her fingers.

  My head was spinning. No way. Then that meant…

  “She’s going to take over your body!” Dahlia shouted. “She’s grooming you, Liam, making you as powerful as she can because you have something she lacks.”

  “Necromancy?” I asked.

  “Particularly strong necromancy,” Dahlia nodded. “And maybe,” she added, “the harem powers.”

  Everyone fell silent. The Headmistress had been so invested in my growth, not because she cared about me or my success but the fact that she might one day steal my body and all my powers.

  “Hope you like the name Liam Waite,” Evelyn teased. Carmilla flashed her a dark look, and the demoness shrank beneath it.

  “This isn’t a joke,” Dahlia said, also glaring at Evelyn angrily. “Liam, we need to stop her.”

  The notion was madness. Stop the Headmistress? She could conjure anything out of thin air. She was as close to all-powerful as I could imagine and the most imposing thing I’d encountered since I arrived at Esoterica. What Dahlia proposed was impossible.

  I shook my head. “There’s just no way. Maybe I can run,” I said.

  “No,” Dahlia said. “You’re strong enough. Together, we can take her down. Believe in our combined efforts!”

  “Dahlia, that’s treasonous,” Randolph said coolly but in a tone that urged us to choose our words carefully. “And also cheesy as hell.” I couldn’t disagree with either point.

  “Treasonous? This isn’t a country,” Carmilla said with a scoff. “And she’s no one’s queen. Liam didn’t come all this way to be preyed upon by a centuries-old body-snatching hag!”

  “When do we do it?” Brian asked frankly. I looked at him, aghast. I hadn’t expected his support. Judging by the look of things, Randolph was equally taken aback. “And how?”

  “I don’t know yet,” Dahlia admitted. “But you can bet I’ll be working on it.”

  “We do have the advantage of surprise,” Carmilla pointed out. “No one but those in this room has any idea about this, and I highly suggest nobody says a word of this outside of here.”

  “Well, you can count me out,” Randolph said. “You all have my well-wishes, but you’re really poking the damn bear if you think you can beat the Headmistress in a fight, fair or not.”

  “It’s alright, Randolph,” I said, patting him on the shoulder. “This isn’t your battle. Thank you for keeping it a secret, at least.”

  He nodded halfheartedly and shrank under my eye contact. “Anyway, you guys have fun plotting your assassination or whatever,” he said. “I have a feeling the less I know, the better,” he said, dismissing himself and bidding us goodbye. We let him go with a few parting words but quickly fell back on the business at hand.

  “Is everyone here on board?” Carmilla asked.

  Everyone nodded. It was heartwarming to see so much support, so many people signing up for what we all probably knew might be a suicide mission, but I tried not to think of that. Instead, I focused on the plan.

  “I can summon her,” I said. “She’ll come if I call.” I held up the coin. “I could do it right now.”

  Dahlia shook her head. “No, not yet. Let’s do the mission first. We could use a quick mana boost if we manage to snag one, and who knows,” she continued, now eyeing Carmilla, “Maybe Memento might turn out to be another ally.”

  “She’s on board, by the way,” I said. “With the mission later this week, I mean,” I quickly clarified. Carmilla nodded, for the first time not looking entirely pissed off by the mention of
Memento’s name. Dahlia looked back down at her evidence.

  “There’s more here,” she said. “But we all reached the same conclusion pretty fast. I don’t think I need to continue with this.”

  “Burn it, Evelyn,” Carmilla said. The demoness conjured a flame in her hand and scorched the file and all the evidence of our snooping around. I watched blankly as it crumbled to ash.

  Brian looked around, a bit bewildered by the info dump. “Okay, so, to restate the conclusion, we’re going to use Liam’s amulet to summon the Headmistress, and then we’ll ambush and kill her?”

  “Pretty much,” Dahlia said with an exasperated sigh and a feeble shrug that showed her awareness of the insanity of the plan. “We can flesh the details out later, but that’s about the gist of it.”

  It sounded insane. It was insane. “Yep,” I confirmed. “Sounds about right.”

  “Right, then. Brilliant,” he said. “Well, I’m going to get some dinner and start thinking about the epitaph on my headstone.” We all laughed darkly at the remark. It stung, a little close to home. A little too real. Before I knew it, we’d all retired to our respective rooms back at the dorm, many of us walking back together.

  “Should I go back to your room with you?” Dahlia asked, stroking my chest. Once again, I felt the tantalizing electricity of her touch, and it was hard to say no.

  “No,” I managed, nonetheless. “I need to keep my head in the game. If I let myself become distracted, I’ll lose valuable time I could have spent studying and getting ready for you-know-what.” I whispered the last bit.

  Carmilla whimpered. “Can I have just a little of your blood?” she begged. I rolled my eyes and lifted my wrist for her. “Oh, did I say blood? I meant dick.”

  I felt my face flush suddenly. Still, I shook my head defiantly. “Foul temptress!” I rasped at her jokingly. “I really need to study!”

  “Come on, it’s been like a bajillion years since I tasted it,” she pleaded.

  “It’s been, like, not even a week,” I said, correcting her.