[u][b]Mary Hawthorne - S&W Weaponry - the previous evening[/b][/u]


    [i]“The essential Saltes of Animals may be so prepared and preserved, that an ingenious Man may have the whole Ark of Noah in his own Studie, and raise the fine Shape of an Animal out of its Ashes at his Pleasure; and by the lyke Method from the essential Saltes of humane Dust, a Philosopher may, without any criminal Necromancy, call up the Shape of any dead Ancestour from the Dust whereinto his Bodie has been incinerated.”[/i]  -BORELLUS


“Makes sense I guess", Shelby said, tapping her lips in thought, "As far as whom Frieda is, I’m not sure, especially if she was involved with the mutie incident. I don’t like muties so I split and came back here. Maybe if I ever come across one of those spell books, can’t remember what exactly they were called, but maybe if I took my time and really studied I can find out if the stuff works.” Shelby looked over at Eliza sleeping, the sun had long since gone away for the night, she took a deep breath. “I can walk you home if you’d like? It’s been one hell of a day, I need some fresh air.”

"Sure", Mary replied, "That would be nice of you."

[u][b]Later[/b][/u]

"Thanks for helping me with the saddle", Mary said as she closed the pen, then reached out for the saddle, which Shelby was holding up with both hands. "I'll haul it inside....Good night!"

Shelby handed the saddle to Mary and after saying her goodbyes turned to walk away in the direction of the Diner. Mary walked up onto the porch and awkwardly opened the front door, and carried the saddle inside, putting it and the bridle on the sawhorse in the middle of the largely empty living room. She noticed the robots were no longer connected to the device Rick had attached to them to power them up. 

"Hmmmm", she said quietly to herself as she scrutinized the dormant robots, "I need to ask Rick how to make you mind me before I wake you up, I think."

She went up to the second floor, and noticed the door to one of the spare bedrooms....the only one with furniture besides hers...was closed. No light could be seen from within, so she quietly opened the door a crack and peered inside, the moonlight revealing Rick's sleeping form on the bed. Just as quietly, she closed the door and went to her bedroom. Lighting a lamp, she then rummaged through her bags, producing several items including Wastelander garb with trousers, a pair of handcuffs, a stun baton, a large mason jar, a old military style flashlight, and ancient leatherbound notebook, and a sheathed machete. She then stripped nude, pulling her panties down and kicking them onto the floor, and then put on the Wastelander outfit. The machete was strapped to her back, the rest of the items went into a haversack. She then left and quietly descended the stairs. After retrieving some wrapped packages and a bottle of purified water from the refrigerator, she went into the living room and opened the front door a crack, peering out cautiously to make sure the coast was clear. Finding it was, she slid out and closed and lacked the door behind her. Staying in the darkness, she moved in the direction of the road leading past the Diner and out of town, steering wide of the Diner. Beyond it was the wall she had noticed the..what Shelby had called a mutie?...and some others had been building. It wasn't terribly far from where the old wooden palisades that protected Salem from the Indians so long ago had been raised.  

"[i]The more things change[/i]", she thought wryly, "[i]the more they stay the same.[/i]" 

But it was still a problem for her purposes, prudent a measure as it was. Beyond the open area where the gate would doubtlessly go, she saw at least two people standing around talking. Sentries by the look of it. She could also hear the ticking of one of those infernal devices Barney called a turret.

"[i]Damnation![/i]", Mary thought, "[i]I can't have them see me dragging a corpse into the Museum! Why on earth did they feel the need to push the walls out so far, anyway? I've got to get by them.[/i]"

She followed the curse of the wall from the inside. It abruptly terminated in the ocean, no doubt where the deep water began. Mary shrugged, then wriggled out of her clothes and stuffed them in the bag, then slowly waded into the water, taking care to keep the bag above water. The mixture of the coldness of the water on her skin with the warmth of the residual radiation was a novel sensation, in a perverse way, she actually found it pleasurable. Careful not to make any undue noise, she slowly waded parallel to the shoreline, shoulder deep in the water, balancing the bag on her head. Eventually, she passed out of the line of sight of the sentries, who largely weren't looking out to sea anyway, and quietly made her way to shore. She decided at this point there was no reason to dress again, though she reequipped the machete and began moving towards the museum but was forced into cover when a seedy looking merc and a ghoul emerged onto the road from the direction of the Crater, then began walking nonchalantly back towards Salem. Once they were a safe distance past, she moved to see where they went and saw that they strolled past the sentries, who took little notice of them, and  into town.

Now that she was finally alone, she went to the road opposite the Museum and approached the site where the cultists had tried to ambush Rick and her. Someone had looted the bodies, and a third one had been hung up by his heels from a tree nearby, but the bodies were otherwise undisturbed. She threw the cultist she had killed over her shoulder, and carried the corpse around the far side of the Museum, unlocking and quietly opening the door to the storm cellar and carrying the body inside, then reaching up to quietly close it behind her. 

[u][b]
Museum of Witchcraft basement - not long after[/b][/u]

She would have preferred to do this upstairs, so she could use the mock cell for the exhibits, but there was a chance someone might hear....but this spot would do well enough. Mary carefully poured the ashes in the mason jar on the floor next to the old steam register, careful not to scatter them, then slowly moved back, placing the empty jar on a old bookshelf beyond the line of candles she relied on for light, then turned to face the pile of ashes on the floor and reflected on what she was about to do.  In her youth she had, like nearly everyone else in Salem Town, had feared and shunned Joseph Curwen once he reappeared in Salem in 1687, having run off to be a sailor nine years before....put off by his strange and reclusive behavior and obsession with strange books...it was still a wonder he hadn't been caught up in the Trials five years later. When she met him again, nearly eighty years later in Providence, she learned just how right people had been to fear him. Flush with his success, after so many years, at finding the right method, he had been desperate for some one to tell of his triumph, and as Mary was willing to be an appreciative listener as well as an accommodating bed partner, over the course of a year she learned much from him. He and his compatriots were long dead, overconfidence on Curwen's part gaining the deadly attention of hunters, so far as she knew she was the only soul still living familiar with their methods. While she had known those methods, never in the centuries since had she felt need to use them, until now. 

She picked up the stun baton and handcuffs from on top of the open notebook on the stool next to her, took a deep breath, and began the incantation. 

[b]Y'AI 'NG'NGAH,
YOG-SOTHOTH
H'EE—L'GEB
F'AI THRODOG
UAAAH  [/b]

No sooner did she utter the words than a cold wind blow through the stagnant and dusty air of the basement, and a foul smelling, greenish smoke began to billow up out of the pile of ashes. Mary had forgotten the smell....it was probably fortunate that she had not bothered to put her clothes back on. Her nakedness might prove of advantage when it came to what she was calling up anyhow. She quickly moved forward, and as a groan emerged from the smoke, followed by coughing, she thrust the stun baton into the heat of the smoke cloud and triggered the charge, yielding resistance and a pained yelp showing she had aimed true. The smoke dissipated to reveal a nude and hairless man, curled up into a fetal position and still twitching from the electric shock from the baton. Knowing she had only a few seconds to act, she cast the baton aside, out of her victim's reach, and overcame his feeble attempts at resistance to affix the handcuffs and cuff him securely to the old cast-iron register, then stepped back out of his reach as he gathered enough of his wits to try to kick her, a terrible look of triumph on her face.

The man strained hard, but in vain at the cuffs holding him securely to the cast-iron fixture, then looked around the room desperately, then finally focused on his captor, his expression a mixture of hatred and fear as he recalled the last thing he had seen before the darkness he just emerged from enveloped him, the woman before him shooting him in the head. 

"You killed me, you bitch", he hissed, pulling in vain against his binds again, "I couldn't have survived what you did to me." 

"You didn't", Mary replied evenly, "I would have demonstrated my true ability when we last met, but virgin eyes and ears forced me to use more....mundane methods to deal with you. So I had to bring you back."

"You're no common Wastelander...that much is clear", the man said grudgingly, "So let's cut the bullshit...what do you want?"

She walked up and knelt next to him, the calf of her right leg up against his left, and smiled in a predatory manner. 

"I have some questions", she said simply, "and I'll do whatever I need to do to have answers to them." She then reached down and took his member in her right hand and gently stroked it, the cultists eyes blazing with hatred as he responded to her touch in spite of himself. "What lengths I need go to is [i]entirely[/i] up to you."

"Fuck you", he replied, spitting full into Mary's face, "You'll kill me anyway."

"Of course I will", Mary replied as she calmly scooped up the glob of spittle from her face and idly licked it from her fingers, all the while continuing what she was doing with her right hand, as the spell wouldn't work if she let his actions distract her and stop talking too soon, "It's not personal...I certainly cannot let you go after what you've seen, only a fool would do that. I can promise, however, that if you cooperate, I'll make it quick...and see to it you're not brought back again by me or anyone else. I'll even do what you want as a final request, as long as what you would have me do won't injure me...much." She then added "no kissing though."

The man grew oddly calm, and finally listened as she continued to speak, the charm spell taking hold without him even realizing it. Finally, he opened his mouth to speak, but then a horrid growl emanated from his stomach, causing him to wince with pain. 

"Hungry, so hungry!", he said pleadingly, "For fucks sake, it hurts!"

"Oh yes", Mary replied, "I almost forgot about the hunger." 

She let go of the cultist and rose to her feet, and retreated to the next room where her bag was. She extracted the wrapped  packages, gathered them up and went back to the man, crouching beside him again in the same fashion she did before, and let the packages fall to the floor next to him. She picked up one and opened it, revealing cuts of venison, or "Rad-Stag" meat as they called it now.

"Here", she said as she leaned forward, drawing close to the man as she help up a strip of raw venison within reach of his head so he could easily reach it, and in a gentle manner fed the contents of the package to him one strip at a time. Once the package was empty, he leaned his head back against the wall and sighed with relief. 

"This isn't going to stop..", he finally said, his voice heavy with defeat, "...is it?"

"No", Mary replied, not without compassion, "not in the amount of time left to you." She glanced down at the remaining packages of meat and back to him. "I warrant I have enough here to last a couple hours before I have to go find more. And what you'll feel awaiting my return will likely be more painful than anything I could do on purpose."

"Fuck it", he said bleakly, "You win. I'll take your 'deal'. I'll tell you what you want to know as long as you put me down fast and let me stay down...forever."

"Very well", she replied, "and your last request?"

"Draw a little closer", he said, parodying some old song "and let me whisper in your ear". Mary humored him by drawing so close she was now pressed against him and let him whisper into her ear what he wanted to do to her, her eyes widening a bit as he outlined his proposal....it was shockingly perverse but she had to admit that it was somewhat original, not to mention something she hadn't done before. For the most part. And in that combination. Or even with the same man. It was not what she had expected, but the charm was subtle and the exact results couldn't be predicted...and in any case she had done things that were far worse to get what she wanted. Once he was finished whispering, she moved her head back slightly and looked him in the eye. "believe me....I wouldn't want to kiss you after that", he added with a resigned chuckle. 

"You're a sick bastard, you are", Mary replied with a shrug and a small laugh, "but my word is my bond. It's something I can do without undue injury, so I will do as you ask."

"Before I start with my questions", she continued, "Would you like something to drink?"