Me and a friend ended up on a bar. She had heard about the place from a friend so we went there. The rain was falling. Rain and mist. Everything was wet and cold. And in this bar it was a smell of wet wool and warm bodies. The windows were covered in condensation. We found a booth far back and then we sat down and talked about Dark Secrets in KULT: Divinity Lost. And we tried to conjure up ideas of interesting directions to take them. Inspiring stories that might start a campaign, be a scenario or just entertain our evening and spark our creativity. They were written down in a black notebook with creamy white pages and the pen had an ink that was deeply red. Here are some of the ideas we wrote down.
Responsible of Medical Experiments or Mental Illness
I have a dog in a cage. A big dog. Everyday I beat it. I beat it with a stick, I kick it, I use the cattle prod on it until it yelps. It cannot bite you see, I have pulled out its teeth. You say that I am cruel? Well then I can confess to you it is no real dog. No, the one I beat is the man that raped me. The man with his stinking breath, that held me down and did not stop when I asked him to. But I got my revenge. I hooked up with him and drugged him a month later. I made the ritual I had read online and transferred his soul to that of his dog. His body was after that a mindless husk that now drools away on some mental institution. So the dog that raped me is now my dog. I castrated him myself.
Sometimes I can see some recognition in his eyes. Some humanity and then I laugh and tell him that this is punishment for his crimes. Some days at work I cannot wait to get home and beat my dog. Hear it yelp. See it wet itself in front of me. Some nights when I really want to torment it I dress up for it, so that it see me all hot and sexy. And then undress before it. Make it want me. Touch. “You wanted this doggy didn’t you. You wanted this”. And then I beat it with my stick until it is red with blood and I am all sweaty and excited.
Was this a working magic ritual, or is this “experiment” just a mental illness? Is the dog just a dog tortured by an insane owner.
My Brave, Brave Boy
Guilty of Crime
My son was always a good boy. Sure he had a trouble at school but teachers could not understand him. And the other parents could not stand that he was different and persuaded the headmaster that he must quit school. But they don’t understand, the other children was teasing him. Of course he hit back. I decided that home schooling would be the best for him but you know how boys are, they have no time for reading so he was out most of the time. Then it was this phone call from him when he told me that if anyone asked he was home that night. Well, the day after the police asked evidently there had been a violent incident where a young man was killed in a fight. Of course they suspected my son, just because he was different so I lied to them. Oh how he hugged me and loved me after that. We felt like a family me and him. And then it sort of escalated. I know he has done some bad things but as I said it is society that have brought it upon itself. So I will always stick up for him and protect him. He is my son after all. So I wash the blood from his clothes, ignore the screams from the trunk in his car and do not ask about the things he dig down in the back yard.
A Guilty of Crime scenario when you are not the perpetrator but you have let it happen again and again.
The People Below
There is a hole in the backyard. A big hole. It was once a well but there is no water on the bottom, instead it seems to go on forever. And there are people living down there. We communicate with notes that our mother send down with a basket at the end of a rope. We give them things and they give us things. We often send down food such as raw meat or cheese. And they send up gold or strange minerals. But when our family has a new born it needs to be sent down and accepted from the people below. They only like babies that are pure, that are not intermingled with other folk from outside our community. If everything is okay then the baby comes up and there is no problem. If there is a problem well, such when Tammy got pregnant with that stranger, then the baby does not come up at all. But we hear a scream of anger and Tammy is punished and put in the black box. This is the way we have always lived. And to us living here it comes natural.
A metaphor for patriarchal control. Some spirits from long ago made rules that now pain the young people of today that don’t obey their commands.