Menu

Case Files
Personal Journals
Email Us

These journals chronical the work
of our secret society, known as The Legacy,
created to protect the innocent from thoes creatures
that inhabit the shadows and the night.


Reese's Journal

Kansas

23 May, 1997 / 12am: Not even a chance to shower before the next case. Things are really hopping now. Just flew back in on the redeye from London, the transport of the Mayan relics to the London House went pretty smooth. No problems with customs, and only a minor irritation of a thief who thought the pottery would look good on his resume. No serious damage done. He's in jail, the relics are being studied at the London House, and I was on the next flight back. Busy two days. Walked in the door and was kee-hauled by Ravyn and some really nasty bugs. So anyway, she hands me the name of a scientist who might be working for the government/military establishment and fills me in on this wild theory about a smart bug project filtered to her through a friend in a position to know these things. I spent yesterday calling in favors and threatening some low level jackoffs, and what I came up with was kinda disturbing. Daniel LeMarque is a genetic engineer specializing in insects. The idiot beurocrats gave him a huge grant to come up with a way to send these insects into a country and multiply in a given period of time so that when they reached a certain point, they would converge and destroy agriculture or whatever was in the way. Pretty insane plan, doomsday insects. But apparently, this guy managed to do it. He made the bugs smart so they would know when and how to do their jobs, and it backfired. They couldn't be controlled. So, they were being sent offsite for destruction. Now, I can understand the guards being a little less than fully attentive what with having guard the bug duty and all, but they weren't expecting an escape attempt. Bugs managed to get out and take off. What a mess. You would think, after all that's happened, the government would get a little smarter themselves. Maybe they should have had this doctor work on them instead of the bugs.


Arizona

8 September, 1999/ 4pm: I never realized how difficult it was to exploit resources this far away from anywhere. I don't have any connections this far north. Bryn's become a virtual dissappearing act. I can't find a trace of her. She met some guy at the local coffeeshop this morning, and no one's seen her since. I've got a real bad feeling about this. I wish I could've gotten here sooner. She left some notes on her desk, I didn't find anything useful except maybe the name 'Michael deNatas', there was a telephone number with it, but it's been disconnected. On my way to the phone company to find out what they've got.

10 September, 1999/ 7pm: Bastein says I need to make some type of entree in here today. While the memory is fresh. Right. Like the images are ever gonna go away. I almost blew it. I almost let Bryn die. The phone company gave me an address for the number, but they didn't have a connection or disconnection date. When I got there, it was an old, abandoned apartment building. A few junkies and squatters, but nothing else. It was kinda overshadowed by the old Gothic Church next to it. I reported into Bastien and left. I had Sidney do a computer search on the name I found. When she couldn't find any trace of the guy, I got real nervous. Talib came in while Sidney was running her program. He blew up when he saw the name, when he saw what I had missed. Michael deNatas. de = son of . N+a+t+a+s in reverse spells Satan: Michael son of Satan. Bryn missed it too, and it almost cost her life. The thirteenth sacrifice was to be the most important one that could be made. Only one willing to give up the greatest gift could open the rift between planes. Bryn had to sacrifice herself willingly, submit to the demon. She must have resisted in the beginning, because of what he did to her. Somehow he convinced her. He was finishing the ritual as we arrived at the church I'd overlooked earlier. It was condemned, obviously a perfect choice for him. This is my fault. If I had just paid more attention, I would have found her sooner. I could have stopped this. She slipped into a coma a few minutes ago and now the doctors are reticent about her chances of recovery. How can I forgive myself?

Case Reference Number: 1024
Case Status: Closed


The Gypsie House Site - Updated by Dr. Bryn O'Neil