Mines & Monsters!

The three amigos eventually decided to leave the abandoned Seventh Adventist's church they'd spent Christmas Day in, and they proceeded to follow tracks from the gruesome monstrosity that stalked the ghost town of White Oaks. Ashford, Cannon and McCloud were all feeling the ill effects of a disturbed night's sleep, and the stark sunlight seemed unnaturally bright. They stabled McCloud's horse, grabbed necessary equipment, and then walked cautiously towards the Broken Toe Mine. The investigators were not the only early birds in the mountains, though: a dozen brutish-looking cattle hands were surveying a mass of destroyed mining equipment. Not a single item seemed to have avoided denting, crushing or shredding. The leader of the roughnecks stepped forward, and after a brief "howdy", he asked the three investigators what they might be up to on a fine Friday morning. The conversation was far from warm and including, but it was clear that the hoodlums were looking for whoever might have killed their companions and destroyed much precious equipment. "Whoever" soon turned out to be the Antahueca Apache, although the thugs used more derogatory language. Frank Cannon flashed his P.I. badge, and insisted that the trio were stalking a dangerous killer that had fled into the mine. Boss Martin and his gang - for this was indeed Boss Martin - paid scant attention to the investigators, as they had their eyes set on a different prize. They rode off to meet up with Sheriff Donahue while Ashford, Cannon and McCloud entered the mine with the latter taking point.

Boss Martin

Boss Martin had warned them from straying off the main passage, as the mine was old and there were deep shafts that were difficult to spot for the unwary. The mine was indeed forbidding, and there were still remnants of the old mining operations: boxes, crates, graffiti, and the odd broken implement. Lotus Ashford did notice something out of the ordinary, though: an empty box for a Geiger counter from MIT, including a partially destroyed user's manual. Another more disturbing discovery was a pile some three or four feet across with what seemed to be decayed human remains that somehow seemed to have been molted off something else, perhaps something bigger. More pieces of rotting flesh were found as the trio proceeded, one of them still sporting a tattooed blueish heart pierced by an arrow.

A partially collapsed floor forced the three amigos to attach themselves with ropes and carefully sidestep the lightless pit. However, disaster almost struck as Lotus Ashford lost his footing and started slipping into the abyss, leaving Frank Cannon mere inches from taking the plunge together with Lotus. McCloud acted quickly, as he used the old sleepers to brace himself, and after much cursing and flailing about, they managed to get out of a truly frightful situation, but only after causing the remaining floor around the pit to collapse in a cloud of fetid dust. Unperturbed, the trio proceeded forward, hoping to find a way back through some other passage. As they reached the end of the main passage, it branched out to two narrower passageways, the right at an acute angle downwards, and the left one straight and level. Ashford turned around, and he shuddered as the light from the entrance of the mine was blotted out for a fraction of a second. Was there someone between the investigators and the mine entrance or was his mind playing him tricks?

As McCloud proceeded down the left passageway, it split up again. McCloud first shone his lantern to the right, but it was when he turned to his left that he saw a new form of abomination. Almost surreal in its execution, this seemed to be a new amalgamation of body parts attached to each other in a most unholy fashion. The beast was wheezing like a deranged steam engine, and the enormous stitched together mouth tried to form word as slobber-like fluids dropped down the corner of the orifice: "muuuust, musst, destrooooooy...". Both McCloud and Cannon shrieked in panic, and dashed for the exit from the mine. Lotus Ashford was equally terrified, but he fired off several rounds from his revolver at the monstrosity. The rounds seemed to have effect, as ichor ran out of the horrendous wounds, but the creature proceeded to chase the investigators. With an abomination before them and a bottomless pit in front of them, the situation was dire indeed. Cannon and McCloud had cut off their ropes, and Frank Cannon was sprinting towards the exit while attempting to jump across the six- or seven-foot gap in the passage. He jumped with all of his strength, but to no avail, as his arms flailed to grab anything to hinder him from falling into the abyss. Fortunately, McCloud jumped after Cannon and after being helped up on his feet, Frank Cannon pulled out a dynamite stick from his rucksack. Meanwhile, Lotus Ashford emptied his revolver at the monstrosity, but it seemed as if the unnamable thing was preparing to jump after the investigators, stretching its rubber-like body in a gelatinous fashion. Frank Cannon fought his urge to just run out of the mine, and his trembling hands lite the fuse and threw the dynamite stick. It exploded just as the beast jumped, showering the three amigos with all kinds of body fragments and goo. 

The investigators were more than a little shaken as they emerged  from the darkness of the mine. In the real world, it was only about ten in the morning, but it felt like they had spent days down in the underworld. They were much in need of a clean-up a change of clothing. Fortunately, there was still a working well in White Oaks, and as they cleaned themselves, many questions surfaced. "What about the radioactivity?" "Are the Apache behind all of this freakish Frankenstein stuff after all?" Should we meet up with Boss Martin?" "What are those flying things?" "Why did Bill's horse not panic at these Frankenstein things, although the scratching things, whatever they are, seemed to terrify the poor horse?" Come to think of it, Bill McCloud realized that his friend Christobal Correira down in Carrizozo might know something about all of this. Correira was an avid and enthusiastic ethnographer and entomologist, but also somewhat of an eccentric.

As the trio left the stable with aforementioned horse, a lone figure on horseback with a cradled carbine faced them, stating "I was gettin' just a trifle concerned" in a broad West Texas dialect. It was nurse Agatha Pettenkoffer, dressed in a riding outfit, but still with a medic's insignia around her left upper arm. Frank Cannon could only think of his deceased wife.