(PULP CTHULHU) Session 1 – Character: GUSTAV ZOLOMON
ZOLOMON’s REPORT: PC-01
You could say I have lived many lives. And I am grateful that I have many more to live. For all my life I have traveled. From my youngest years, when I was in the military, to now my elder years. I have always been on the move.
I have my reasons. But it is better than I do not stay still. You could say it’s because that’s when the elderly die—When they stop doing what they love. And I love defying death.
I cannot reveal much, but I shall say this: I have private employers that… care about the fate of our world.
When I was young, I discovered that other worldly things existed, intertwined with our own. I have researched our history, I have researched the occult, and I have seen things no man, woman, or child should ever have to witness. I have fought in war, and what my eyes have seen, makes a world war seem… mundane. That is why I always wear dark sunglasses. I do not want anyone to see my eyes. For they may see into my soul, or what’s left of it.
I write these reports as a journal, that one day some may know of my adventures.
And my missing wife Sandra… maybe it will lead us back together.
At the end of it all, I stand against fate. I stand against the belief that humanity will perish. And I will do anything I need to protect the human race from the nightmares that are out there—in our world, and beyond.
One day, not too long after the first great war, I received a telegraph from an associate of mine. One Professor Lionel Finch. He is not in the best of health these days. We are about the same age, yet the years have been, in a sense, kinder to me.
I will not delve into Finch’s past nor how ours tie together, for that is a story of another day and age, and quite honestly for a different time.
The telegraph I received came from Arkham, Massachusetts, where Finch currently resides.
CVTY 35 ARKHAM, MAS. TVG 11
= PROFESSOR LIONEL FINCH =
= ARKHAM =
= DEAR FRIEND STOP I WISH TO PREVAIL UPON YOU TO REPRESENT ME IN A MOST URGENT AND DELICATE MATTER. STOP I AM STUCK CHAIR-BOUND AGAIN AND NEED HELP TO BE MY EYES AND EARS STOP IT MAY PROVE NOTHING MORE THAN A HOAX BUT IF NOT I FEAR FOR THE FUTURE STOP SORRY FOR LIMITED INFO STOP MATTER CONFIDENTIAL I WILL SPEAK MORE OF THIS IN PERSON STOP PLEASE COME AND SEE ME ASAP I WILL PAY ALL EXPENSES AND GENEROUS FEE STOP PLEASE REPLY BY RETURN MESSAGE PAID STOP =
= L =
The fact the good professor was summoning me was concerning enough. He knows how important my research is for the fate of humanity. He knows I hate wasting my time—damn my Chronophobia. But alas, I shall never deny a friend in need. So, I packed my bags, which contained little more than my 12-gauge shotgun, my trusty sword cane, and a few changes of clothes. Clothes always tend to get ruined when I travel. I always run into some brutish opponent. It is just my luck—Or my fate, as I could say.
As I arrived at Arkham University, I was ushered to Lionel’s office. I found that two other men were there already, also waiting for the Professor. They did not introduce themselves, but they looked savvy enough. One seemed to be a man of science, if I had to guess, and the other—I could swear I saw him hi-jacking a poor man’s car a few nights before. In any case, I had no idea why Lionel needed them, but I was soon to find out.
The Professor wheeled in, now bound to a wheelchair. His arthritis has caused him terrible pain—In his legs I would guess.
He thanked us for coming and immediately got down to business.
There was going to be an auction for a weapon called a Disintegrator. I didn’t like the sound of that one bit. The Prof. went on to say that it could change the power balance of the world. If an enemy country were to get their hands on it—and possible reproduce the technology, we’d surely be overtaken here in the US by foreign powers.
Lionel wanted us to go to the auction in his place. He gave us each a cashier’s check for a mighty $5,000. Shocked as I was, I feared it would not be enough—even if we combined the three checks. But something told me Lionel was stretching his life savings already. So, I kept quiet.
Our job was to find out if the disintegrator was real, and to obtain it. Maybe through whatever means necessary. The suspected car thief may have killed men before, but the other man—the scientist. I doubted as much. Would that be an issue for him? Taking your first is not an easy thing. I remember back when I was in the military myself. The first time I killed a man will always be burned into my mind forever. My dear friend, turned betrayer, Deckard. He was responsible for my (now wife) friend Sandy’s death, so I thought—And then he killed the woman I loved, Luci Fina. I put a bullet between his eyes. If that had not killed him, the fall into the chasm certainly would have.
Anyway, the next morning we were given a car, and $100 for expenses. The drive took a few hours, and there was an awkward silence in the car. Until the car-thief, whose name turned out to be Carlo, offered a ham sandwich to us. I wasn’t… hungry, so the scientist, Dr. Victor von Victor (maybe he is a mad scientist, with a name like that) declined at first as well—worried about the quality and the conditions of slaughterhouses. A quick quip from Carlo changed Victor’s mind and he quickly ate the sandwich. For Hope’s sake he pulled the sandwich from the glove box. Disgusting.