Ashes In Your Mouth 2 : Report 03
Location: Northern Bogline, Barrow, Pennsylvania
Date: [Still Redacted]
Subject: Engagement with Bobby Lee Green and Barrow & Locke Operatives / Manifestation of Hostile Entities (Also: Were-Boars, Monkey Horrors, and One (1) Inconveniently Charming Coal Man)
Initial Observation and Strategic Withdrawal
While we were attempting something vaguely resembling rest inside Hazel Fisher’s glorified moss-shed, the unmistakable sound of trouble (heavy boots, muttered threats, the faint clinking of cursed chains) drifted through the trees. Three figures: Bobby Lee Green and two familiar Barrow & Locke stooges. Each carried a chain ending in what I can only describe as mummified monkeys—Hazel called them “Shucks.” Great. Nothing like a cursed simian to start the day.
Hazel, naturally, declared she wouldn’t be staying behind. Apparently, “armed swamp witch with a sawed-off shotgun” isn’t just a threat—it’s a lifestyle. Angel grabbed a fruit bowl to bait the little freaks, and Remy conjured up vines and shadows to wrap herself, Angel, and Ander in a ghillie-suit-meets-cryptid situation. They slipped out the back. Brodie flanked through the treeline, in what I can only call a tactical shuffle.
Hostile Engagement
We drew them off well enough. Angel threw the fruit. The Shucks took the bait. Then Remy followed up with a lovely little concoction of mushroom paste and swamp gas that erupted in their faces like botanical tear gas. The monkeys gagged.
Angel opened fire. Brodie did his part—shot one of the goons in the shoulder and somehow managed to shout his full job title like it was going to be printed on a badge someday: “Assistant Investigator Brodie Lee.”
Bobby, deeply confused by everything (including, I suspect, his own life choices), asked if we were working with the witch. Brodie, ever eloquent, replied: “She gave us cookies.”
Remy, still cloaked in cover, put a round of acid in Bobby’s chest. In return, Bobby flung a bowie knife at Brodie. Our dear investigator survived entirely by accident—he’d dropped his gun and bent to retrieve it just in time. The knife buried itself in a tree. Dramatic.
One goon transformed into a concrete-skinned brute and charged. Ander, with impeccable timing, snared him in vines. The other disappeared into shadow, then reappeared moments later as our own shadows turned traitor. One hit, then they vanished. (Unoriginal.)
The Shucks tried again. Missed again. He looked down at the Shucks, back at the chaos, and quietly muttered, “Boss… I need your help.”
Then, with that same nervous energy that turns men into legends or casualties, Brodie reached into his coat, pulled me free, and slipped the sock puppet on like a man putting on armour made of wool and sarcasm. I stretched out and tried to wallop Concrete Goon, but the hit bounced off like I’d slapped a statue.
Transformation and Escalation
At this point, Bobby finally spotted Remy and delivered the usual villain monologue: blame, bitterness, accusations of monstrous heritage. Remy’s response was admirably concise: “Fuck you.”
Then Bobby transformed. Heightened. Hairy. Tusks. Antlers. Nine-foot were-boar. Lovely. He charged Brodie and missed, obliterating a tree instead. Goon A followed suit—more pig, less nuance.
Goon B snuck up behind Angel. Ander retaliated with glowing vines that neatly removed Goon A’s head from his body. Hazel tried casting something useful but flubbed it. Again. The Shucks, meanwhile, proved that even cursed monkeys can’t land a hit on Brodie.
“Maurice,” he whispered again, this time with a little more plea than authority, “they’re bullying me.”
Charming. Inspiring. A true wartime speech.
Nevertheless, I obliged. One look was all it took. I summoned up the full weight of my Terrifying Presence, and the Shucks went from enraged to rigid in record time. Frozen mid-snarl, mid-swing, mid-whatever-it-is-flesh-cursed-monkeys-do. Sometimes, it really is just about showing up with the right kind of scary face.
Angel hit Bobby with more fire. Brodie, now utterly fed up, begged me to handle the Shucks. I unleashed Terrifying Presence. It worked. They froze mid-screech.
Then Goon B mutated. Bigger. Uglier. Mouth like a collapsed cave system. It blasted pressurized air at Brodie and Angel. They dodged. Angel responded by punching the creature so hard it bifurcated. Clean. Top half: gone.
Neutralization
Brodie produced two small sticks wrapped in gold ribbon (yes, seriously) and handed them to me. I obliged. One sharp slap to the back of Bobby’s massive were-neck. Down he went. Out cold.
Remy didn’t pause. She stepped up, rifle to the skull, and ended it.
All three bodies reverted to human form. Hazel, recognizing that her third failed spell was no longer needed, quietly began packing her things like it was the end of a disappointing picnic.
Unexpected Contact
As we caught our breath, a man strolled up.
Black suit. Black umbrella. Pale skin. Politeness like a trap. He congratulated us. Introduced himself as The Coal Man. Handed Remy a note with coordinates—allegedly pointing to Caleb.
He looked at Brodie.
“I see you already have taint and power,” he said.
To which I replied: “Yeah, I’m right here. Try some respect.”
He offered vague boons. Promised nothing. Smiled far too much. Then he left.
The team’s response ranged from simmering hatred to open distrust. I suspect this isn’t our first dance with the man in black. It won’t be the last.
Operational Notes
- Brodie remains a disaster, but he’s our disaster. His summoning protocol for me is erratic but occasionally effective.
- Remy Green has proven both tactically ruthless and emotionally volatile. She executed Bobby without hesitation. Her current mental state should be observed.
- B&L operatives are exhibiting increasingly advanced transformations. Suggest upscaling our definitions of threat classes.
- Hazel Fisher, while unhelpful in combat, remains a necessary knowledge source. Recommend continued cooperation—preferably with supervision.
- The Coal Man represents a wildcard entity. Charming, untrustworthy, and likely far older than he appears. Motivation unknown. Danger level: high.
Filed By: Investigator Maurice
Supervising Officer: Still Me
Clearance Level: If You Have to Ask, You Don’t Deserve It
