The Green Lama: Unbound (The Green Lama Legacy Book 3)

by Adam Lance Garcia

  His eyes a luminescent green, the Green Lama turned to Nyarlathotep. The creature’s face had completely shattered, revealing the obsidian horror beneath. “You have not won, Green Lama.” The tongue-like cranium wagged as it spoke. “Like you, I had a card up my sleeve.” It pointed a gnarled finger toward the balcony above them, where the Green Lama saw a possessed Vasili viciously attacking Caraway. “One to rise. Three to sleep. Unfortunately for you, the count is still in my favor.”

  The Green Lama grimaced angrily. He held his hands out, a ball of energy forming between them. “No matter the measure, Nyarlathotep, you shall not succeed.”

  “I believe there is a deity who would disagree with you,” Nyarlathotep laughed, bowing slightly. “He is all yours, my Lord.”

  The Green Lama’s robes rippled as the air shifted around him, the beating of tremendous wing drumming in his ears.

  “I SEE YOU, JETHRO DUMONT,” Cthulhu roared, its voice echoing into the Green Lama’s very core. “I SEE YOU, GREEN LAMA.”

  “And I see you, Cthulhu,” the Green Lama said as he turned to face the towering alien god. “Om! Ma-ni Pad-me Hum!” he shouted, letting loose a powerful beam of electricity, filling the temple with an explosion of green light.

  • • •

  Gottschalk grabbed at Gan’s uniform, pleading, his mind no longer his own. “We have to stop them!” he howled, spit flying form his mouth. “We cannot let them defeat the great Cthulhu! The time of darkness is at hand!”

  “No, sir,” Gan said, “It is not.” He pressed his Lüger against Gottschalk’s stomach and fired two quick shots, dropping the Obergruppenführer to the ground. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  Gazing up at the balcony, Gan wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his sleeve. It was time to face his fate.

  “Ewetwjk gx lzw yjwwf dses uomt—ywl slgesf!” Vasili hissed, his Cheshire grin threatening to rip apart his face. His eyes were black as coal; inky tears ran down his cheeks as he clawed at Caraway’s throat.

  “Get off me!” Caraway growled, punching Vasili in the face. But the blows did nothing to deter him. Even when Caraway shattered Vasili’s jaw, it only seemed to goad him on. Reaching for his pistol, Caraway hoped to incapacitate Vasili long enough to get him to put the stone Tablet in place, though it was doubtful a bullet would be enough to stop him. “I’m sorry, boy-o, I know it ain’t you doin’ this,” he said as he shot Vasili in the thigh.

  Vasili grunted in pain, but was undeterred. Attacking Caraway with renewed ferocity, he struck him with a powerful backhand. Caraway flew back, his pistol falling from his hand. Before Caraway could find his way to his feet, Vasili was on him again, pinning him the ground.

  “Yog-Soggoth! Hast’r! Ph’nglui mglw’nafh Cthulhu R’lyeh wgah’nagl fhtagn,” Vasili laughed, placing a hand on either side of Caraway’s head.

  Caraway screamed as his eyes pushed out against his skull as Vasili began to squeeze.

  • • •

  “Go! Go! Go!” Jean exclaimed as they tried to make their way toward the Third Tablet’s shrine. Deep Ones began to pour in all around them, appearing out of every shadow.

  “Where the hell are they coming from?” Ken shouted as he shot down two fish men.

  “Doesn’t really matter right now!” she said as she kicked out a Deep One’s knees. Out of bullets, she had no option but to fight the creatures hand-to-hand. “Come on, this is just like the factory, just keep shootin’ them ’til they stop! Just don’t get bitten like last time!”

  Ken glanced at her quizzically. “What factory? What are you talking about?” he asked, shooting another creature in the eye.

  Jean’s stomach twisted. “Just don’t stop shooting!”

  • • •

  “YOU ARE NOTHING, GREEN LAMA!” Cthulhu shrieked telepathically. The Green Lama screamed, clutching his head as Cthulhu’s metaphysical voice threatened to shatter his human mind. He felt knives slice beneath his skin and tear it away from his muscles, endured the torment of having every bone broken, swallowing hot coals, and experienced the agony of drowning all with the blink of an eye.

  He plunged to the ground and was caught mid-air in Cthulhu’s colossal hand. Bringing the Green Lama close to its tentacled face, the Great Old One laughed. “WE RULED THIS WORLD FOR A MILLENNIA, BILLIONS OF YEARS BEFORE YOUR KIND EVEN DARED CRAWL OUT FROM THE MUCK. YOU THINK YOU CAN WIELD THE POWER OF THE GODS? YOU ARE A BUG.” It slammed the Green Lama into the side of the Temple, giant chunks of coral crashing down onto the assemblage below. “AND YOU ARE CRUSHED LIKE ONE,” Cthulhu scoffed when the Green Lama didn’t resurface.

  Seconds later, a boulder flew up from the ground, hitting Cthulhu’s red, green, and yellow eye. “Om! Ma-ni Pad-me Hum!” The Green Lama burst out from the rubble, his fists and eyes glowing brightly from within. He struck Cthulhu’s bulbous head with a tremendous right hook, sending the Great Old One sprawling back. Cthulhu spread his wings and soared up toward the high ceiling, the Green Lama followed close behind. Shadows overtook them and Cthulhu disappeared.

  “WHAT DO YOU AIM TO ACHIEVE?” Cthulhu asked telepathically, hidden within the darkness. “DO YOU TRULY BELIEVE YOU CAN DEFEAT A GOD?”

  “You are no god!” the Green Lama shouted back. He spun around, searching, unable to find his nemesis.

  “SO CERTAIN ARE YOU?” The Great Old One’s voice echoed in the Green Lama’s mind. “BUT HOW CAN A MORTAL TRULY UNDERSTAND THAT WHICH IS GREATER THAN HIM?”

  The Green Lama gritted his teeth in anger. “I may be mortal, Cthulhu, but I fight for a force far greater than you.”

  “THEN PROVE IT, HUMAN!” Cthulhu roared, launching out of the shadows.

  • • •

  Blinding pain echoed through Caraway’s skull. Grabbing Vasili’s wrists, he tried to pry himself free. “Please, Vasili,” Caraway groaned, struggling not to lose consciousness. “It’s John… Fight… This…”

  CRACK!

  Vasili’s grip slackened.

  Prying open his eyes, Caraway watched Vasili topple unconscious onto the ground to reveal Gan standing over them, the stone Tablet in hand.

  “Gan?!”

  “Didn’t I tell you, John?” Gan said with a broad smile. “When the time came, we would be fighting for the same s—” There was a soft pop of gunfire and a small spot of blood began to form in the center of Gan’s chest. He glanced down, baffled. “Oh,” he said quietly.

  “NO!!!” Caraway screamed as he ran toward his wounded friend.

  Gan slowly turned to find a bruised Rick Masters holding up a smoking pistol. “Goddamn Nazi,” Rick cursed.

  Gan looked back at Caraway, his eyes wide in shock. The two men stared at each other before Gan let out a bloody cough and his knees buckled.

  “Aw, hell. Aw, hell,” Caraway moaned as he caught the Oberführer in his arms.

  Gan gripped at Caraway’s collar, his eyes glassy. “My family!” he croaked. “John. My family. You have to get them—You have to get them out of Germany.”

  “No, no, no,” Caraway said, shaking his head. “Don’t you worry, boy-o, you’re gonna see them real soon—”

  Gan pulled him closer. “John, listen to me. There is something terrible… Something terrible is about to happen in Germany. You have to—You have to get them out!”

  “I…” Caraway stuttered, noticing the innate fear in Gan’s eyes. “Okay. Okay.”

  “Promise me!” Gan hissed, forcefully tugging at Caraway’s collar.

  “I promise! I’ll get your family out of Germany,” he said with a nod. “I promise you.”

  Gan’s voice grew weaker. “I am sorry—sorry, John, that I couldn’t save the girl…”

  Caraway grimaced, but remained silent.

  “You must believe me… Had I been able, I would have—”

  “You know, you never told me how you stopped that elephant,” Caraway said quietly.

  Gan let out a wheezing laugh and gave him a waning smile. “Because I knew he woul
d.”

  “That’s not much of an answer, Gan,” Caraway said with a sad laugh.

  Gan shook his head, coughing while he weakly laughed. “‘Gan.’That is… not…That’s not my name,” he struggled to say. “Hahn. My name. It’s really Hahn.”

  “Hahn,” Caraway repeated.

  “I’m dying, John. Call me Heinrich.”

  “Heinwreck,” Caraway struggled, fighting back tears.

  Gan let out another coughing laugh. “Amerikaner… Harry. Just call me Harry.”

  “Harry,” Caraway said with a somber smile. “Harry Hahn.”

  Gan’s eyes drooped closed. “Zu Befehl, Herr Leutnant…”

  And then he was gone.

  • • •

  The Deep Ones were closing in, surrounding Jean and Ken on all sides and pinning them against the wall. Jean had given up trying to count them, having lost track at thirty. She and Ken were standing back-to-back, trading off the last remaining gun, shooting any Deep One that dared approach.

  “So, you’re telling me you went to a possible future, met a possible future version of myself, and then watched him die,” Ken complained as he fired at an approaching Deep One. “When were you going to tell me about this?”

  “I figured it was better you didn’t know,” she admitted, taking the gun from him and shooting down another Deep One. “Besides, even if I had, would you have even believed me?”

  Ken scowled in silent admission. Even now, with all the nightmares around them, it seem implausible. “I still reserve the right to mad be at you,” he said eventually. Jean passed over the pistol and he immediately began to reload. “We’re down to two.”

  “We’ve still got the grenade,” she replied. She grabbed back the gun and took out another Deep One, turning one of its bulbous eyes concave. “And, fine, be mad at me, but this is the worst time for us to be discussing it!”

  “Like we’re going to get another?” Ken scoffed, glancing back at her. “Face it, Red, this is a one way trip.”

  Jean’s heart raced, she had heard that before. “Let’s try not to think that way.”

  “I’ll do my best,” Ken mused. He looked out at the crowd of creatures encircling them. “Hey, you ever go skeet shooting out in Montana?” he asked, a tongue pressed thoughtfully against his cheek.

  “Couple of times, yeah,” she replied, a little confused.

  Ken reached into her satchel and brought out the grenade.

  Jean cocked an eyebrow, instantly understanding. “Oh, this should be fun.”

  “Come on, let’s end this,” he said with a smile, tossing the grenade into the air.

  • • •

  Tentacles shot out and wound around him, squeezing the Green Lama’s frame until his insides threatened to burst out. Cthulhu towered over him, its eyes blazing with unparalleled anger.

  “DO YOU REALLY THINK YOU CAN STOP ME?” its voice screamed in the Green Lama’s mind. “I HAVE RIPPED GODS IN HALF, IMPLODED SUNS, EXTINGUISHED GALAXIES WITH THE WAVE OF MY HAND. I FACED THE ARMIES OF EONS, THE CONQUERORS OF AGES, AND I HAVE DESTROYED THEM ALL!”

  “But you’ve never faced me!” the Green Lama roared. He grabbed the tentacles wrapped around his arms and ripped them off Cthulhu’s face, putrid black blood spilling out of the disembodied appendages.

  Cthulhu howled in pain, unleashing a torrent of psychic energy that flooded the Green Lama’s thoughts. Images poured before his mind’s eye, horrible images of death and destruction, wars and famine; thousands of galaxies filled with creatures of both unimaginable beauty and maddening horror. Visions of nameless nightmares exploded behind his eyes. He witnessed the death of millions at the hands of Old Ones, sliced open neck to groin, their innards torn out with slow, diligent care. He watched the world burn with madness, saw the sea evaporate and fire rain from the sky. But, the Green Lama could also see there was something Cthulhu was hiding, a blinding green light from beyond, the light that was burning within him, burning within Jean and Vasili.

  An explosion tore through the left balcony, sending chunks of coral and dismembered body parts raining down upon them. Something struck the Green Lama’s head. Pain ripped through his body as he and Cthulhu fell to the ground.

  “Om! Ma-ni Pad-me Hum!” he gasped. Looking up toward the source of the explosion he saw Jean and Ken standing by a gaping hole in the balcony. “Jean!” he shouted with elation.

  “We’ll chat later, Smug,” Jean called down to him. “Right now, we’ve gotta save the world!”

  A grin spread across the Green Lama’s face as he watched her and Ken hop over the crater toward the far end of the mezzanine. Turning toward the wounded Cthulhu, the Green Lama’s hands glowed with energy.

  “Let’s finish this.”

  • • •

  The strangest thing about the sanctum was how normal it looked, like something out of a Roman history book. It was only the edges of the pillared shrine glowing in the dimly lit room that hinted at its otherworldliness. Intricate designs covered the coral, reminding Caraway of the images that laced the illuminated Bibles his preacher grandfather used to carry around, back when everything was fire and brimstone and the thought of alien gods something kept to penny dreadfuls. At the center of the shrine was a small rectangular gap in the stone—almost as if the Tablet had been cut directly from it.

  “Creepy,” Rick whispered as he and Caraway carried Vasili in. They could still hear the battle raging outside the partially enclosed area. The walls rattled, threatening to crack. Flashes of lights and silhouettes danced before a small window overlooking the Temple floor.

  “Because that’s the creepiest thing we’ve seen so far,” Caraway said, biting. He looked to Vasili. “Come on, boy-o,” he begged, slapping their unconscious passenger across the face. “Wake up.”

  “You sure you really wanna do that?” Rick asked nervously, raising his pistol. “Last time he tried to kill us both and tossed me around like a rag doll.”

  Caraway failed to hide his scowl. “Gonna be honest with you, Rick, you’re not my favorite person at the moment, so keep your comments to yourself.”

  “Hey, I saved your life,” Rick protested.

  “Yeah, we’ll chat about that later, but right now we need to get Vasili to put the Tablet in place or we’re screwed.” He looked to Vasili. “Open your eyes, buddy, come on…”

  “Why him?” Rick asked, scratching the back of his head. “I’ve never really been clear on that.”

  “He’s a scion, or something. He was chosen for this.”

  “Like that makes a lotta sense,” Rick scoffed. He took out the Second Tablet from the satchel and walked toward the shrine. “Look, there ain’t nothing to it, it’s just like makin’love,” he said raising the Tablet to the cut. “You put your thing into the hole and—”A small electric explosion popped out of the shrine throwing Rick and the Tablet several feet back.

  “You all right?” Caraway asked in muted concern as Rick stumbled to his feet.

  “Uh,” Rick shakily replied, his steaming hair standing on end. “Yeah. I think. Feels like I stuck my tongue in an electrical socket.”

  “None but a scion can place the Tablet,” they heard Vasili say.

  Caraway looked down to Vasili, the Greek’s eyes had returned to normal. “You with us again, Vasili?”

  “Yes. I am now.” Vasili nodded slowly. His expression downcast, he added,” remember everything. It is all painfully clear now.”

  “What is?” Caraway asked nervously.

  An angry scowl pierced Vasili’s face. “It was Nyarlathotep. All of it, hiding in plain sight for so long. Playing me, and so many others, like a puppet on a string. He made me…” he trailed off, tears streaming down his cheeks. “My poor Sotiria.”

  Caraway looked away, blinking away his own tears.

  “I used to dream he was chasing me,” Vasili continued. He stood up, favoring his unwounded leg. “Had I only known the nightmares were real, perhaps then I would have tried to wake up and seen wha
t was right in front of me. But I am awake now.” He looked over to the Jade Tablet on the ground beside Rick. Lifting it up, he weighed it in his hands. Hobbling over toward the shrine, he raised the Tablet to the gap in the stone. “Let us end this.”

  • • •

  “Whoa,” Ken breathed as they approached the glowing crystalline shrine, a short stanchion in the center. Outside the partially enclosed sanctum they could still hear the sounds of battle. “That’s… that’s a ‘whoa.’” He ran a hand over it, feeling for the seams in the crystal. He looked over at Jean. “My God, Red. This whole thing is one giant crystal.”

  “It’s a real beauty,” Jean said, uninterested as she approached the stanchion. Tracing her fingers over the top of the platform, she detected the faint hints of carvings in the crystal—the Tablet had been cut from here. Removing the Third Tablet from her satchel she raised it over the stanchion, and closed her eyes. “Here goes nothing…”

  She held her breath and placed the crystalline Tablet down, turning it ever so slightly to fit perfectly with the cut. Her heart pounded in her throat. Jean risked opening her eyes and looked down at the crystalline egg. “Nothing happened.”

  Ken furrowed his brow. “Wait, what about the blood sacrifice?”

  • • •

  Nyarlathotep fell back into the panicked crowd. Everything was going wrong. The prophecies, the thousands of years of waiting, it was all being upended so quickly. He felt his control over Vasili shatter, could sense the Tablets being set in place, and most horrifically, watched as his god was struck again by the Green Lama—a human—green lightning filling the chamber.

  No, he decided, this will not end well. No matter what had been prophesied, no matter the planning, the tides of fate were drifting away from them, and he refused to be pulled out to sea. Backing into the shadows, Nyarlathotep drew open a doorway and disappeared into the darkness.