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    The Mask of Romek
    The Mask of Romek
    The Mask of Romek
    Ebook48 pages46 minutes

    The Mask of Romek

    By TC McQueen

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    About this ebook

    The Mask of Romek is the first of the Journals of John Henry Darrow, an immortal who, along with others like him, battle the forces of darkness.
    A seemingly straightforward murder and theft from the Miskatonic University in Arkham draws Darrow into a race to recover a dangerous artifact before an ancient evil can be released. (13k words)

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTC McQueen
    Release dateJun 8, 2011
    ISBN9781458000040
    The Mask of Romek
    Author

    TC McQueen

    I promised never to use my powers for evil. I did however have my fingers crossed when I said it.

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      Book preview

      The Mask of Romek - TC McQueen

      The Mask of Romek

      By

      T.C McQueen

      Smashwords Edition

      Copyright 2011 TC McQueen

      Prologue:

      In the beginning there was Dark. A lot of Dark. Then as you no doubt will remember from school, there was Light. Bright searing burning Light. Well the Dark didn't like that too much. In fact the Dark was really quite put out by all that Light. Ever since then the Dark wanted things back the way they were before. My job, probably even my destiny if there is such a thing, is to make sure that doesn't happen.

      I grew up in a small Texas town called Fort Riley. Had a pretty normal life, served my country in the Great War, came home, became a deputy, got a wife. Then one day in the winter of 1922, a clan of vampires decided Fort Riley was their next meal break. I came back from a prisoner run to the courthouse two towns over to find everyone I had ever known dead, dying or undead.

      That’s what put me on this road I travel. You see I after I put down the walking nightmares that used to be people I torched the town, tracked those vampires all the way to Arkham and put them down too. That’s where I met the others like me. Septimus, Marcus and the others. Normal people who have been touched by the paranormal. Normal people who make a stand. Shit, now I sound like a goddamn recruitment poster. Maybe I should.

      Anyway. We carried on the fight. Taking on whatever the darkness threw at us. We saw shit you wouldn't believe. Hell I'm not sure I believe half of it and I was there.

      Then we followed the trail of a Daemon to South America, ended up in Peru. After Peru, and what happened to us in those caves... We stopped being normal.

      None of us noticed at first

      I thought it was just clean living and exercise that kept us all well preserved. Then one day I just happened to look at my passport picture and thought, Shit, I’m 50 and I don’t look a day older than 30. I looked around at the others and saw they were the same. We stuck together through WW II then Septimus suggested we use the postwar chaos as a chance for a new start, a clean slate. So we went our separate ways, blended in I guess. Septimus, always the pragmatist, kept in touch with all of us, bringing us together when we were needed. That was when he went legit. The Government had uses for an immortal genius expert on the paranormal. You won’t see his picture in the paper, or even hear his name, but he's there, in an agency so classified it doesn’t even have a name, well an official name anyway. They call him The Director a suitably anonymous title for a man with a job that doesn't exist.

      Septimus pulls strings for me now and again to keep me in honest employment. I change my name from time to time, move town. When you don’t mix with folk and stay anonymous, no one notices that you never age. Ended up in the FBI till recently. Once a cop always a cop I guess.

      My name is John Henry Darrow, I was born in 1887 and I cannot die.

      Chapter One: Room Service

      March 21st 2009. 0200hrs

      Room 230, Hotel Atlantica near Boston, Mass.

      I nudged the motel room door open a little.

      Marcus? No reply. Shit was I too late.

      Doc? Doctor Marcus Lockhart was an old friend, a fellow survivor of the expedition to Peru back in 1924.

      Using the barrel of my revolver I eased the door fully ajar, letting what little light the hallway offered spill into the room.

      The room

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