The Count continued cautiously through the junk in the attic. When he heard the other two men he signalled with his torch then waited for them to catch up. He made no comment to either and quickly fell into step with their over-watch movement as they went deeper into the attic.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 267):

The thing twitched in its death throes as JM cautiously walked up. He put his rifle to the beast's head, pulling the trigger. The bullet went into what he assumed was the brain case, and the foul-smelling monster gave a final spasm in death.

However, JM was unprepared for what came next! The other, still-living creature dropped upon him from above, pinning him under it's bulk with a clawed foot. The weight and pressure was astounding. But what really got his attention was the hideous tooth-filled mouth biting down on him...

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 269):

"Blimy!" yelled Darlington. "Watch out, mate..."

His warning came far too late. In response to the beast's attack on JM, Darlington drew his revolver and fired a shot. It struck the monster but the bullet ricochetted off into the darkness. "Ah, fuck me! Beg pardon, miss Molly."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:47, Mon 06 May 2013.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 268):

The three men advanced into the wreckage. They found the remains of George's brother underneath the hole in the roof, though they somehow wished they had not. He was dead, and partially consumed. A leg was missing, and his ribcage was exposed through his shredded shirt.

George collapsed, sobbing. "Oh God! Oh God! I'm so sorry, Billy! I was supposed to take care of you. All through the war, but now this..."

From downstairs came the sound of further shooting and frantic yelling.

In reply to Albert Darlington (msg # 270):

Molly screamed.  It was a totally feminine thing to do and to tell the truth, it felt good to do it.  Hopefully it wouldn't get around to some circles that Mungo screamed but every female deserved a good scream once in awhile and if what was in front of them wasn't a cause to scream, she didn't know what was.

"You have to hit the blasted thing in the eye or maybe even the mouth.  A mouth full of lead would be preferred to a mouth of John Marc...at least by my reckoning."

Molly picked up her gun that she had been holding but not using and took aim for the creatures eye.  Hopefully she could hit it and not John Marc but if she did hit him, she would nurse him back to health in a cute nurses outfit...or bury him and put the best damn notification in the paper that anybody had ever seen.

She squeezed the trigger while she prayed she could be of some help.

Fortunately some fighter pilot's instinct warned JM of the creature's presence.  He rolled out of the way of the bite.

OOC: Am I pinned by the creature as well?  If not I will try to get away from the damn thing.

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 271):

There was little the Count could do, he placed a hand on his friends shoulder.

He turned his head at the shouts and gunfire.

"It would seem that the fight is not over my friend and you may yet have your revenge. I fear we must once more engage these creatures unless we all fall into darkness"

He waited for the other two before returning to the attic door at a sprint.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 274):

Perkins didn't want to move, he just knelt and sobbed by the remains of his brother.

"Come on, lad! We got work to do, time to go! We'll deal with him later, right?"

CSM Jones began pulling George Perkins away from his brother's savaged corpse. "Sir, you'd better go on, I'll see that he gets out of here all right!"

Outside, the flipped-over truck continued to burn with orange flame that threw black smoke billowing up into the night sky. The beast took off again, shooting up in the air with a great beating of leathery wings. All that was left was the noisome odour of its dead companion.

Cynthia whispers to her companions upstairs, "do you suppose the other one is planning to return?"

JM continued his roll and in a smooth motion ran into the house.  He was panting and a bit frightened but his face was exhilarated.  He turned to Molly;  "That was close, too close.  We're going to have to lure the other one down and bomb it as well."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 277):

Molly brought up her hand to slap John-Marc in the face for frightening her but stopped herself before she went into her swing.  "You are a cad for frighting me like that...although I am totally pleased that you are unhurt.  Even your luck will run out sometime so please take better care."

In reply to The Keeper (msg # 275):

The Count stopped;

"No we better move the body to a safer location. I think the things will probably return."

He grabbed a dust sheet or something similar off the stored furniture and began to wrap the body to return with it downstairs.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 279):

There were plenty of old and grimy drop-cloths available to use as a shroud. Perkins seemed to be recovering and they all helped bring the remains downstairs.

JM makes a small bow to Molly.  "I apologize for frightening you miss Mungo.  I wasn't sure myself if I'd make it back."

When the others gathered downstairs JM called out.  "One creature down and one to go.  The grenades took it out which seems to be about the only thing that really works.  We could use a body of a cultist to draw the thing down in range and blow it up."
This message was last edited by the player at 23:28, Fri 10 May 2013.

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 281):

The Count was quite taken a back on they had secured Mr Perkins brothers body down stairs. The Truck on its side and burning it crew nowhere to be seen.

The Count turned to Mr Falcon:

"Any more fatalities ?"

He did not want to hear the answer he was sure would be positive.

"Yes the grenades would seem to be our only option. Volley fire as well if we get the chance."

He then again moved downstairs to ready another pile of corpses.

JM shook his head sadly.  "One of the monsters caught the Major and tore him to shreds."  He smiled grimly.  "It's the dead one."  JM turned to the others.  "Ready yourselves.  We'd best prepare our grenades and have three or four of us hurl them at once to make sure we get the beast."

The Count did not comment on the death of the Major just nodding his head as he watched the wreck of the truck burn. He turned to the Inspector and asked:

"And how did the good Mr Singh pass Inspector ? Was he able to take some of them with him or is it likely a group from the truck are still active in the grounds ?"
This message was last edited by the player at 08:17, Sun 12 May 2013.

In reply to Count Sigismund Bathony (msg # 284):

Darlington reloaded the spent cartridge from his revolver.

"Lawd above! 'E died terribly, 'e did. Blown 'imself up. Surrounded by corpses. Looks like a couple grenades wen' off right where 'e was. I didn't coun' da bodies, could be someone escaped."
This message was last edited by the player at 04:27, Mon 13 May 2013.

Cynthia follows downstairs, carrying her meat-grenades, still bundled against her chest. She had heard the explosions and screaming outside, but had not heard enough to make out the details. Seeing the twisted remains in the house breaks her demeanor, and two of the grenades fall from her grip onto the stairs. She looks away with a gasp, then busies herself, picking up the forgotten grenades.

She hurries downstairs, handing off the grenades to whoever plants to use them, or depositing them on a table, then hurries on to the dining room to retrieve her shotgun. She pauses, hearing the news about Mr. Singh, then continues to her gun without comment.

While in the kitchen, she scours her hands and rubs them on a towel until they're red and clean.

In reply to Cynthia Jane Holloway (msg # 286):

Molly saw Cynthia give out the grenades, drop them, and then give them out again.  Molly followed Cynthia and watched her wash her hands.  She leaned against the sink and spoke in a low voice.  "Careful on the scrubbing Cynthia.  You don't need to add your blood to that which is washing off.  It's a terrible business we've found ourselves in lately."

The Count returned to the ground floor with enough men to cover them as they moved the bodies to the front of the house. He advised everyone to stand back from the windows as they readied the grenades for the attack.

JM turned to Darlington.  "Help me give a body the heave ho out into the yard to draw the creature to it." First he looked to the others.  "Let's throw both grenades at the thing and fire every gun we have available if it lands."

In reply to John-Marc Falcon (msg # 289):

Stone-faced, Darlington holstered his revolver and nodded. He lifted the esteemed and now late MP by the shoulders. A Detective Sergeant experienced in the ways of death, he remembered not to breathe in because the man's bowels had probably let go at his demise.

"Cor! This bugger will provide a greater 'elp naow that 'e evvir was in da 'ouse, innit?"

Indeed, a foul odour wafted up from the trousers of the dead man, adding to the charnel-house stench that already permeated the room. They got ready to chuck him out the door, which was easy as there no longer was a front door. It was more a slab of wood propped in its former frame after being torn off its hinges.

Bathony had the grenade bundle of 6 (Note: -10 percentiles to Throw) while CSM Jones and the surviving Perkins took the other 2 remaining grenades, wrapped in steaks taken from the ice box. The ladies were in the kitchen. As for the freed hostages, they were taking shelter in the dining room adjacent to the great hall, both to keep out of the way and avoid the pile of corpses in the next room.
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:05, Wed 15 May 2013.

In reply to Molly 'Mungo' Fuller (msg # 287):

"Mr. Singh can't be gone. He wouldn't leave like that. He's just waiting up ahead for us." She keeps scrubbing, almost mechanically, until she realizes what she's doing, and throws the towel away. "You'll see. It's dark out, is all."

Cynthia grabs her shotgun from where she left it and checks that it's loaded.