The Sector House 13 Blog has been quiet of late. A combination of illness at the beginning of the year and a lot of time spent catching up on work for issue 3 of our Fanzine Sector 13. We've some exciting posts waiting, including details of some of the strips you'll see in our next few issues.
As our first post of the year we bring you another short story from Chris McAuley.
Artwork by Splash!
Anyone for Fish?
: A Finn Story
David dry retched, his mouth gagging and opening
uselessly, as he finally tumbled over into the darkened pavement street. His nose plunged into the pile of vomit that
he’d previously ejected. His curiously
boyish features splatted into a mixture of the partially digested Chicken Chow
Mein that he hadn’t much enjoyed at lunchtime and the baked beans and toast
that he’d had for breakfast.
But he had escaped. He had endured horrors from beyond this
world, literally tasting the excrement from a hundred, thousand nightmares and
he had survived. He pulled himself away from
the dreadful smell with shaking arms and hauled himself into a more upright
position in the alleyway. Using his one clean hand he pushed his dirty blond
hair back from his face and forced himself to stop shivering. It was time to
move. He had to get to the ‘Taxi Driver’,
he had to get to the ‘Warrior Beyond the Ages’.
His quickening footsteps echoed across the dark bricks as he tried to
force recent memories from his mind.
He thought back on his once illustrious career,
he had been Doctor David Easterton, archaeologist and a prodigy in the field of
mythic history. He had written
passionate papers on the connection between the traditional power-base of the
Christian Church and the Babylonian water deity, Dagon.
The papers, his plea to the wider historical
community not to dismiss this oft touted lineage as mere conspiracy theory, but
to recognise a secret truth covered up over millennia. But the arrogant tossers at the academic
institutions has destroyed his career and reputation. His hard work over previous decades excavating
ruins in Baghdad and his credibility disappeared practically overnight.
But, he thought with a shudder, it had brought
him to contact with them.
Across newspapers and civic centres the Ancient
and Noble Order of the Freemariners were known for their charity work and their
generous donations to various benevolent funds. Their deeds underlined by the
famous individuals – actors, politicians, artists - who joined their ranks. The movers and shakers of society, in other words
the smug, seedy bastards who were venerated by the adoring masses. Numerous books had been published on this
strange ‘boys club’, tying them to the killing of JFK and the destruction of
the Library of Alexandria. Ludicrous
stories that added flavour to the mystique of the group.
David had been working in a Fish and Chip shop.
“Yeah” he thought, bitterly, “The great intellectual
Dr David Easterton, who had enthralled and enraptured students with tales of
crawling through tombs, deciphering wall carvings and blending the Egyptian
understanding of the mythical 'Shining Ones' and the Babylonian concepts of
Angels.”
His thoughts drifted back to the present. His
speciality was now serving battered sausages to Mavis, a particularly shrew
like, cock-eyed bitch who hated Children and Battered Cod equally, and to any other
drunken arsehole who stumbled into the shop.
It had been Tuesday 24th October, dark and
stormy. A perfectly shitty day in
Cornwall. The door to 'New Cod on the
Block' opened and David had barely looked up from his hands, covered in the
special 'secret' gravy used to smother the half cooked chips in.
A plumy voice, quite unlike the usual accent
which pervaded around the northern coastline spoke
“Dr David
Easterton I presume”
A wry smile flickered across David's Lips – half
in pleasure at being recognised by his title, and half by what was intended as
a witticism
“This isn't Africa
mate and my name isn't Livingstone”
He looked up and saw a well-dressed gentleman in
a bowler hat, an ornate umbrella curved around his arm and a gold watch-chain
poking awkwardly through his waistcoat button hole.
“Very Droll Dr
Easterton, I must say I am surprised to see you here” - he gestured rather
expansively with his umbrella around the vinegar and prawn stained shop.
“Although” - he
continued “Perhaps it's appropriate?”
David found the newcomers intonation irksome –
no – he found it intensely pissy. Who was this guy who has just breezed in to
give him shit over his job?
“Listen Mate” He
began, but was hastily cut off
“It doesn't matter. Look Dr Easterton, you have been noticed by a
group which I am proud to represent, you may have heard of us, The Ancient and
Noble Freemariners?”
And so it began.
A few months later, a few forms having been filled, David found himself
blindfolded and taken to a secret address by an unknown chauffeur. He was nervous, excited and strangely
proud. Try as he might he couldn’t avoid a certain
swelling of the ego.
He was no longer going to be plain David
Easterton, Chip shop worker. He’d become
Doctor David Easterton again, a
Freemariner, privy to all the secrets and mysterious truths which underpinned Western
Civilisation – or so his brothers claimed.
As the car slowed to a stop, he heard his driver
exit the vehicle and open the door, someone else was there. They manoeuvred David out of his seat and led
him up a series of stone steps.
David's pulse quickened with excitement and he
thought furiously as to where he might be.
He must be somewhere in London, the noise of the
traffic told him that.
He had been travelling for most of the day,
crammed into the narrow back-seat of the car. Each step felt like a huge achievement.
He heard a door close and knew he had reached
his destination. Strong hands began to
rearrange his clothing, adding to his disorientation as they discarded his
sports jacket and opening his shirt
His mouth was dry
“Hold on a moment, what the Fuck is going on?”
A familiar voice answered, the prick from the
chip shop, he sounded like he was right in front of him, but somehow David
couldn't be sure
“Sorry Dr
Easterton, there are ancient customs and practices that must be adhered to – we
cannot deviate from them or the Great Lords would be displeased”
A door in front of him opened. Heavily laden, creaking, and from within came
a familiar smell. A smell filled with brine,
but with something else underneath the familiar tangy salty tinge. Something that forced David to suppress a gag
reflex as he felt an inexplicable terror rise within him.
He wanted to run, just run. tear off his blindfold and
catapult himself crazily out into the streets.
It seemed mad, but at the same time totally sane-
Saner than meeting the source to that smell.
Those strong hands were back, grasping him and
lifting his left leg, David almost fell but regained his balance at the last
moment.
“Hey, seriously
now, this is beyond a joke” David tried to use some authority in his voice. The
authority he used to have when teaching at university. But he was fooling no
one, he had no control over what was happening to him.
His shoes and socks were taken off. He thought of it as some sort of bizarre ritual
striptease but could find of no trace of humour in his ‘joke’.
The familiar voice continued
“I assure you,
this is no joke, you are being prepared for an audience with the Great
Architects of civilisation – those who offer us a chance at apotheosis”
David's head spinning, “what was all this
nonsense?” he thought.
The now hated, rich, plumy voice continued
“Godhood man, Godhood, the chance to become a Shining One with limitless power
to do our masters bidding”
More nonsense, now something had replaced his
shoe, it felt tight and uncomfortable, like a flipper – was he wearing a
flipper? David lifted his leg and allowed
it to fall, it slapped on the tiled surface like a divers flipper. His mind
reeled, half amused, half fearful.
“Was this just a crazy cult? No great minds sharing discoveries, just bored
businessmen playing the fool?”
He heard a door open and found himself surrounded
by the unfiltered stench. He tried to
take a step back but found himself propelled forward by his strong armed
'friend'
He was in a large space and standing on a stone
floor. The stench made him retch and he
tried not to breathe too deeply. Any
fucking thing other than smell the air around him.
Something touched his chest, something sharp and
with three points, it dug in hard, he felt the tips of ...whatever it was, pierce his skin just
below his nipple. He cried out
“Jesus…Fuck...please
let me out of here!” he screamed.
A voice spoke in the darkness, its timbre a
bubbling sound. David had the sensation
of someone speaking while drowning. As the voice burbled, the foetid
smell rose into his nostrils, he struggled not to empty his bowels and failed.
“You have entered
the sacred Harbour, the place where all good fishermen pay due homage to the
great Newts as they contemplate their journeys across the sea. The Great
Old Gods rose from the sea to teach and bring civilisation to our race.
They created commerce and brought us gifts of war to tame our enemies.
Take now a sacred oath that you will never betray humanity to the urges and
desires of the land, the earth. The spirit of the soil, is our old enemy and
she will be subjugated”
The pain intensified and David’s head began to reel.
Images of his muscles tearing and
twisting under the pressure filled his mind. If he assented would he be
let go, would he be free of this agony?
He spoke, trying to reason with the person in
front of him “Yes, please let me go, just let me leave, I haven’t seen a
fucking thing”
Cold, stinking breath invaded David’s face and
his cheeks felt a slimy touch for a second.
“Ahh but you will
see” the voice bubbled
Suddenly the breath moved away and David felt a
rough tug at his blindfold. He really didn’t want to see, he slammed his
eyes shut, tighter than he had ever done. This bogeyman was real, it had
teeth and it was going to devour him whole.
Again strong hands gripped him and fingers tore
his eyelids upwards, tears began to stream down his face and his vision began
to clear.
For the second time that night, David shat his
pants
At first he thought it was some kind of ritualistic
mask, a totem, part of a grand play to scare the new guy. But the Mask
twitched and slithered and oozed. It was grey and octopus like, covering
the top part of a man’s head.
David could see the human lips as the thing
covering the man before him reached to just under the nose. Large eyes covered
with a greasy film and a yellow gaze which bore heavily and hypnotically into
David’s eyes. The thick fingers hurt his
eyelids as they held his eyes open while he struggled to close them.
Dark, inky liquid oozed onto the man’s mouth
from the obscene creature. He smiled showing darkly stained teeth.
He was dressed in a smart suit and wore a gold chain around his neck – like a
town dignitary. At the bottom of the
chain was a triangular symbol with an eye embossed in the centre.
“Now we grant you
the blessing of true sight, the secrets of the ages, now you Dr David Easterton
will see the true masters of mankind and feel their cold embrace”.
The fingers moved from David’s eyes and he
blinked in relief, he didn’t want to close them now, he had to see the danger,
he had to witness the horror which was going to be forced upon him.
The Octopus like thing was removed from the
man’s head leaving an ordinary looking face, complete with slimy, short, black
hair and a large bulbous nose. He looked like a bank manager – he
probably was a bank manager! He smiled encouragingly at David.
The twitching oozing thing was passed from
person to person with great care until David lost sight of it. Then he realised, it was being held, dripping
and oozing, above his head.
He Screamed. He wailed. His whole body erupted in a feverish sweat, his
face glowing red and hot. Like a toddler having a tantrum. But it was no good. David Easterton’s hubris, his ego, had brought
him to the brink of madness, but madness didn’t come.
The ooze dripped onto his hair and face as he felt
the thing descend onto his head. Small
tendrils flapped at his face, and he heard a sucking noise. He clamped his eyes shut, but could still see,
he was suffocating and opened his mouth to breath. Black gunk dripped almost slithered into his
mouth, he tried to spit it out but there was too much. It flowed into his mouth and down his throat.
He couldn’t gag, in fact he couldn’t do much of anything.
Now, somehow, he was seeing through the things
eyes, his eyes were covered and what he saw didn’t make sense. Somehow, he was somewhere else…
A dark landscape with a red sky and twin
suns. He could hear moaning and screaming
coming from all directions and there was water.
There were pools of green liquid and purple portals swirling in
concentric circles above them.
He snapped back to the temple hearing a voice
inside his head
“This is our Home, where
your Gods reside”
David didn’t want to see any more but the dark gods
of humanity had other ideas. He saw images of large fish like warriors
emerging from an ocean, the water a clear, beautiful blue. Somehow he knew that this was Earth, his home,
and these monstrous bastards were invading it.
Some carried tridents, like the one that had
recently tormented David’s flesh, one a gigantic broadsword covered with
strange glowing symbols. They marched and sloshed towards a luscious
green island – Eire, a land filled with treasures and human women to
impregnate.
He could feel their
thoughts, their desire for unnatural copulation between their species and the slaves they
took”, David could feel their lust for the sweetness of human flesh, soft and
easy to scar, they enjoyed the deep penetration and the ripping of the human
internal organs as they sated themselves with the females…and males of the
species. Bringing forth hybrids to rule the worlds they conquered. Bastard sons and daughters of the watery void.
David could feel it all, taste the thoughts and
memories of the thing covering his head.
They had been coming to Earth for centuries, molesting and murdering his
kin folk, his revulsion had left him and now the seeds of burning anger began
to replace his natural cowardice.
He began to use the anger, to concentrate, to force
these visions of long past history and many conquered worlds to show any way to
stop these poisonous bastards.
He found a corner of the creature’s mind, a
corner where fear dwelt. Each world had
a guardian spirit often long dormant and forgotten. Machinery and commerce seemed to be the bane
of the spirits.
Commerce made men into easy and willing slaves,
the people being fooled into working to purchase the resources which were
naturally theirs to begin with. Machinery helped the slaves work harder
and silenced the guardian spirits as verdant land was covered in the concrete
and metal.
This land, this earth had not yet been
conquered. Long ago the Guardian Spirit,
Gaia, Mother Earth, the Great Goddess had chosen a champion. A great high
king, an axe swinger, the obscene Slaine. Slaine had challenged them,
held them at bay with the strange gift of the Goddess. A natural
mutation an ability to enter what he called a Warp Spasm. It made him unstoppable in battle, he’d killed
thousands of their kind – he did not think it many.
Slaine had travelled through time and brought
disaster to the Newts and their human servants throughout history. They
feared him, feared him more than anything else.
He’d been reborn over and over again, rising
from the legendary Cauldron of Plenty in various guises and with many names.
Always battling for the freedom of human spirit
and the glory of the Goddess. He had fought the blood God who hid himself
in the lies of the Christ and obscured the truth of mythology through false Religion
and doctrine.
Doctrine that had delighted in persecution and
murder, he’d seen hundreds of Cathars marching to their death willingly – flames
cooking their flesh. The mortal body was not something to be feared, but
celebrated, celebrated through sex, drinking, eating…these simple joys were the
root of the fears of the newt invaders. These were things which they couldn’t
control.
David’s heart rose as he watched this Irish
tribal chieftain slay one of the leaders of the invasions. Slaine had battled Moloch, who had sodomised
and murdered, his one true love, through strange dimensions defeating him in a
final mighty battle. David felt a surge of pride and hope that his race had
brought forth such a mighty champion. But where had Slaine gone?
David concentrated, asking for help from the
Goddess, from the spirit of his world.
He saw it, a vision sent from the Goddess. He saw a taxi cab, Cornish pasties and used
condom wrappers littering the back seat.
The driver, a rough unshaven tool of the Goddess. She loved this man and he her. She had granted a new name to go with his
rebirth– he was Finn.
He fought the Newts and their Shining Ones with
guns and black magic, a magic born from the hatred of the heart of the Goddess
for these invaders. Slaine had become Finn and now David had to find Finn.
David felt the thing on his face scream, this
had never happened before, all previous entrants to the temple had been
complicit in this transformative process, but this human was fighting it and he
was trying to find out details about their enemies. This was not
acceptable!
David felt the heavy octopus thing drop from his
head, his face was sticky and his hair plastered and matted against his skull
and face. He only had moments to act. He kicked off the weird
green, frog flippers from his feet and ran towards the still open door of the
hellish temple.
Shouts of warning and heavy footfalls followed
him as he pounded across the stone floor on his bruised and cut feet. He
prayed to the Goddess and felt her answer, somehow he knew he would get away.
Out he ran, he found the front door easily.
Bursting through the doors he kept running, his lungs bursting. He could
run no more, he collapsed in an alley which was empty except for a few Garbage
bins and the back door to a Chinese Restaurant.
David dry retched….
If this were not enough, in tandem with Dredd, Carlos
set out the character Johnny Alpha and the harsh world of Strontium Dog.
Firstly in the seminal publication StarLord and then in 2000AD. 
