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Outback Joe vs the Toilet Croc Invasion
Chapter 171 – Secrets of the Shrine

Chapter 171 – Secrets of the Shrine

I don’t know what I expected to find when the secret door in the bookcase swung open, what I did know however was that what I did find wasn't it. Maybe I thought it would be a curving staircase leading me down into some dark and ominous basement filled with the accouterments of a serial killer. Perhaps it could have been one of those fancy panic rooms you see in movies all the time, or maybe it could have led to an enormous safe I would have to crack to open that door. I’m kind of glad it wasn’t that final option given I’d been left with only a single lockpick.

No, what Old Man Wellington kept behind this door was far more disturbing than any of that. Yes, even more than the whole serial killer lair idea. What I found was a shrine to some unknown deity. One that, like Melumek, seemed to enjoy body parts.

Maybe that did make it kind of a killer’s secret stash, what do you think?

I reached up and tried to yank the odd candlestick from the sconce but it wouldn’t come free. I guess that made sense if it was a trigger for the door. I had to run to the next one in line and back again. Hot wax dripped on my glove from my rough handling of the candle which felt a little strange. The candles had been lit when I arrived but every one of them was a uniform length. To be honest, I thought they were the electric kind of candle, not the real thing. Was my old friend Casper replacing the candles every time a player arrived here? That was awfully considerate for a poltergeist.

Shoving the candle in ahead of me into the small chamber beyond the bookcase door did not help to alleviate the discomfort the shrine brought to me. I call the space a chamber but really it was the size of a small closet; just big enough for me to shove myself into.

The flame of the candle flickered violently as an aggressive gust of air assaulted my back, making it hard to focus on the odd-looking shrine in front of me. All around me, the voice of the poltergeist sounded out more violently than it had before, worming its way deep into my ears to dig its claws into my brain.

Get out…

The wail sounded so desperate which only made me want to explore more. If the poltergeist didn’t want me to be here, then there must be a reason.

I moved the candle from side to side, eyeing the shrine as a sense of foreboding settled over me like a heavy blanket. The description of the quest had told me that Old Man Wellington collected all things cryptic but this was something else entirely.

The shrine was constructed with mismatched planks of wood that looked like they’d been stolen from decrepit pallets. Barbed wire had been wound around the planks in nonsensical patterns. I couldn’t tell if the wire was structural or more of a poor decorative choice. Interspersed around the whole thing were rocks carved with runes that looked meaningful but meant nothing to me. The faintest of red lights emanated from the runes. The light was so dim you wouldn’t have even known it was there unless they were cast in shadow. Between and sometimes attached to the carved rocks were bones that were disturbingly human along with the rotting remains of fingers, ears, and what might have been a toe. Despite the fact that the bits were still somewhat fleshy there was no stink in the chamber aside from the staleness of the air and sneeze-inducing dust.

On a flat surface of the shrine was a stack of aged papers. I picked them up, shuffling through the stack and eyeing the disturbing depictions of monsters and terrifying rituals that were designed to appease some blood-thirsty god. Someone, I assumed it was Old Man Wellington, had scrawled notes in the margins of the papers. I read through them, hoping to find some hint that would point me to the way out of this place.

(Turn and surrender for he is vast and so determined to hold his crown.)

The crown – concept or real object? Could I have it for myself?

(I stand ready and waiting. Feed me and take my offering to join me in paradise.)

This is it! I can open the relic. I just know it. Then the true power will be mine!

(Beware the being that haunts me still. Determined is he to keep the power buried and gone. His betrayal burns me still, trapped as I have made him.)

A danger. It is only to be expected with such a potent power source.

(Hold true to your mind else it be devoured and you return but a vessel, able to watch but not to act.)

My will is strong! I will not be denied the power I have spent fifty years hunting for!

There were other cryptic lines that the man had scrawled beside these four but these were the ones that stood out to me the most. They were the only ones that kind of made sense. The man didn’t simply collect cryptic objects for the fun and mystery of it. He wanted them for the power they must have inside. He didn’t want any old power though, he wanted a specific kind.

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Too bad whatever he had found had turned him into a mouse and landed him in a haunted manor house. I guess that’s what happens when you play with powers beyond your understanding.

My problem was, the note said he’d been chasing this thing for over fifty years. If that was true then this whole mess predated the Toilet Croc Invasion. Melumek must have seen something in this man’s endless hunt for power and corrupted it with his own overwhelming perversion, turning what could have simply been a regular old haunting into a game-like event for players just like me. That seemed to follow the bastard's modus operandi.

Yeah, that’s right, I used a big word, and better yet, I know what it means! Are you proud of me? Thank Mrs. Percott and her endless obsession with bloody crime shows. Even being a farmhand didn’t save me from seeing too many of them. Gordon probably had it worse.

Old Man Wellington should probably be grateful for Melumek’s unearthly appearance, otherwise the man would have been taken by a regular old curse, one that would probably see him dead in this same manor house being eaten by the same creatures that he had been turned into.

I took all the papers and stuffed them haphazardly into my bum bag, just in case I needed to refer to them later. Unsure what else to do with this odd shrine I focused on my Advanced Shadow Eye skill, allowing the many sparkles to fill my vision.

I say many but really there were only two objects that lit up in front of me, both of them golden indicating treasure. Two was still a lot when you were cramped into a tiny place.

I reached out, picking up what I thought was a carved stone but it didn’t feel like one. I couldn’t quite explain why. When I ran my gloved thumb over it felt… textured. Not smooth like a stone should be. The image carved on it was a very boxy kind of mouse. Even the bends of the tail were depicted by sharp right angles.

New Item Received: Rodent Relic

Description: An item imbued with traits of the humble mouse. Used for religious purposes or to enhance weaponry, armor, or jewelry. This one is carved on fossilized bone and is dated to approximately 1500 BCE.

Effects: Agility +5, Perception +5, Endurance +2.

Effects may vary when used as an upgrade item depending on the primary item function.

I moved to run a hand through the short hairs circling my bald spot but stopped when I realized my hands were full. The relic was very interesting but the lack of upgrade effect information made it difficult to choose what to combine it with. I wasn’t sure I could take it back once it was combined and I’d hate to waste it.

I placed the relic in my bum bag for later and reached for the second item lit up with golden sparkles. This one was more like a disturbing kind of voodoo doll. It was made of torn rags tied tightly together with more of the barbed wire. Two chipped black buttons were sewn to the thing's face with thick red thread.

Even though it was made of little more than metal and cloth the thing made my gloved fingers turn icy, sending an uncomfortable burning sensation shooting up my arm. My elbow and my teeth both ached from it only adding to the tenderness. It was like I was holding the entirety of the previous room in my hand.

New Item Received: Poppit of the Devoured

Description: A doll crafted by a traditional practitioner to represent a person. Unfortunately for this poor soul, something dark and ancient has turned them into little more than a snack. Here’s hoping there is peace in the belly of a beast. This item has little purpose for anyone who is not the represented individual. It can probably be sold to an unfastidious merchant if you’re heartless enough to do that.

I hurried to drop this one into my bum bag, rubbing hard at my cold stiffened fingers. It wasn’t quite as interesting as the Rodent Relic but I didn’t mind collecting random things. That’s what came with having a large amount of inventory space available. I would have to collect a few more backpacks or satchels though or that vast amount of space I thought I had would eventually run out.

I wondered if I could get some kind of perpetual safe chest for all the goods I didn’t want to sell. I wanted that to be a prime feature in the new safe house I was still hoping to build. Maybe I could give the Witch of Evermore a call. She might make something cold sliver up my spine but she knew what she was doing.

Doing one last sweep of the shrine I backstepped out of the cramped space, ignoring the howling wind that slapped my face and screamed at me to get out. I knew I should be afraid of the poltergeist but for whatever reason it really didn’t faze me. Maybe I should name him? I like doing that to annoying little creatures that decide to join my clan.

A little cloud of sadness descended on me as the realization that this odd annoying creature was not something I could bring with me. It didn’t matter if I named him Pete the Poltergeist, he was tied to this quest and my success meant his destruction. I assumed that was the case. The quest description wasn’t entirely clear.

A sudden desire to have Miranda here with me hit like a ton of bricks. I was sad enough about Pete but with the added reminder that my one-time friend had become little more than Melumek’s murderous lackey, I was about ready to succumb to the gloom.

I made my way to the door, half expecting it to open in front of me. It did not. I frowned and reached for the knob but no matter how I jiggled it the thing refused to move.

“Stella, come help me out would you?” I snapped.

Stella yawned and stretched out her legs from her place by the fire. She seemed disinclined to leave this room. Honestly, I felt much the same way and probably would have joined her if it wasn’t for the fact that her tail was no longer thick and short but was now slender, whip-like, and about three times as long.

I swallowed hard, trying not to let my eyes bulge out of my head as my free hand crept around to feel above my crack. The touch of a silken rope had me wailing like Pete the Poltergeist.