COC-LCG Ancient Relics系列扩展包附赠小说

bright_helm

本帖最后由 bright_helm 于 2012-6-5 16:12 编辑

无它，如题。
这个系列的小说与之前的不同，之前是每系列一部小说。这个系列是6个短篇小说。
嗯......没别的好说了，开始吧。

广告：
COC相关内容汇总贴：
/thread-31280-1-1.html

小说汇总：
DREAMLAND
/thread-31054-1-1.html
SUMMONS OF THE DEEP
/thread-33884-1-1.html
THE YUGGOTH CONTRACT
/thread-40473-1-1.html
THE ORDER OF THE SILVER TWILIGHT
/thread-78914-1-1.html
ANCIENT RELICS
/thread-101459-1-1.html

bright_helm

本帖最后由 bright_helm 于 2012-6-5 16:20 编辑

缭绕烟蕴
By Michael Gallowglas

小巷尽头的那扇门半掩着，莎梅吉恩-康士坦兹不停在提醒自己，脑后头发根根竖起的原因不过是她刚刚从布满烟尘的街道走进这条阴暗小巷。没错。这也应当是她耳后和脸庞上冷汗直流以及双腿忽然觉得僵直的原因。这一切都应该与那扇门后看起来像是等待吞噬她的黑暗无关。她已经与奈杰尔-圣-詹姆斯进行了多半年的来往通信，他一直在帮助她发掘她的天赋以抵御那些试图掠捕她的人。莎梅吉恩稳了稳心神，走向那扇门。

小巷一路上散落着各种垃圾，隐约夹杂在其间的是若干显然正在享受正午阳光抚慰的熟睡中的流浪者。就在门口处坐着一位老女人，满脸沧桑的皱纹。两片嘴唇间正夹着一枚手工卷制的香烟，脚边周围散布着至少半打酒瓶。老妇的眼神此时似乎正聚焦在某个模糊的遥远时空之中。

莎梅吉恩走到门前，出声问道，“詹姆斯先生？我是莎梅吉恩。我可以进来吗？”

“请进，”一个低沉的声音回应道，“不过有个条件，你得叫我奈杰尔。我觉得我们之间应该平等对待才好。尽管我的知识很丰富，但你的才能远超过我。”

莎梅吉恩走进屋。当她闻到屋内飘荡烟蕴的辛辣味道时头脑不禁一荡。一个肥硕男人正悠闲地坐在一把柳条椅中。尽管他包裹着那身剪裁得体的外套，但她仍然能够看到他那被堆挤摆荡在椅子外面的胳膊和臀部。他面前的桌上摆着一碟糕点，旁边放着一个大号水烟袋。

“请坐，”奈杰尔冲着对面的座位摆了摆手，“我们可以好好商量一下，看看银曦会可以怎样更好地利用你的才能。”

莎梅吉恩坐了下来。奈杰尔打开水烟袋开始装烟叶。随后，在点燃水烟之前，他拿出了一枚干枯的玫瑰花瓣，把它放在烟叶的最上面。随着奈杰尔的吸吹，房间里顿时充满了更加浓郁的烟蕴。莎梅吉恩咳嗽起来。她的头觉得更加晕晕沉沉。奈杰尔的轮廓逐渐变得模糊。

“哦，不错。”这个声音似乎来自某个遥远的地方。“我们完全可以利用好你的才能。”

几个小时之后，夜幕缓缓降临，坐在门外黑暗中那个上年纪的老太婆，慢慢地向远离门口的位置挪了一英尺。那个去见奈杰尔-圣-詹姆斯的小可爱应该就快要出来了吧...

她拖着身子摇晃着蹭出门外，一下子扑跌在地上。她漆黑的眼睛已变得深陷，几乎像是空洞。她的嘴唇已经枯薄，连双手背面都布满了皱纹。几缕灰白也开始沿着她现在那凌乱的头发快速蔓延。

“这个能让你好受点。”那个女人，才刚刚变成这幅衰老模样几个月的女人，递给这位年轻女士一根卷烟。

“要多久？”这个不再可爱漂亮的生物问道。

“直到他用好你的能力。”

“然后呢？”

老女人挥手比了比那些沿着小巷一路躺着的流浪者——不，他们不是浪者，他们，只是尸体。

曾经身为莎梅吉恩的这个女孩，深深吸了一口烟，随后将手伸向了酒瓶。

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以下为Sammy帝辛苦录入的英文原文：

Smoke

by Michael Gallowglas

The door at the end of the alley gaped open, and Charmagne Constance convinced herself that the prickling the hairs on the back of her skull was because she'd stepped from the dusty street into the shaded alleyway. Yes. That's why the sweat running down the backs of her ears, her sides, and her legs suddenly chilled. It had nothing to do with the darkness behind the door looking like some void waiting to suck her in. She'd corresponded with Nigel St. James for the better part of a year, and he had helped her focus her talents in order to defend against those who would prey on her. Steadying herself, Charmagne headed for the door.

Garbage littered the grounds, obscuring several sleeping vagrants obviously seeking solace from the mid-day heat. Just outside the door, sat an old lady, face a map of wrinkles. A hand-rolled cigarette smoldered between her lips, and at least half a dozen bottles lay scattered around her. The lady's eyes focused on some faraway time or place.

Charmagne went up to the door, and called in, "Mr. St. James? It's Charmagne. May I come in?"

"You may," a deep voice said, "but on the condition that you call me the Nigel. I believe we should proceed as equals. While my knowledge is considerable, your talent far outstrips mine."

Charmagne went inside. Her head swam as she inhaled the pungent smoke wafting through the room. A voluminous man lounged in a wicker chair. Even in his immaculately tailored suit, she could see the rolls of his arms and hips spilling over the edges of the chair. A platter of pastries lay on the table before him, next to a large hookah.

"Please sit," Nigel waved to a seat across from him, "and we will discuss how the Silver Twilight can best use your talents."

Charmagne sat. Nigel opened the hookah and loaded it with tobacco. Then he took a single dried rose petal and placed it on top of the tobacco before lighting it. Nigel puffed, filling the room with even more smoke. Charmagne coughed. Her head swam. Nigel's form blurred.

"Oh, yes." The voice sounded as if it came from far away. "We can definitely use your talent."

Hours later, as dusk came, the aged hag who sat outside the dark, gaping doorway shifted over about a foot. The pretty thing that had gone to see Nigel St. James should be coming out right about...

She shuffled out of the doorway, and slumped to the ground. Her dark eyes were sunken, almost hollow. Her lips had already begun to thin, and wrinkles formed on the backs of her hands. Bits of grey had begun to streak throughout her now disheveled hair.

"This will take the edge off." The woman, who had only been this ancient thing for a few months, handed a cigarette to the young lady.

"How long?" the not-so-pretty thing asked.

"Until he uses your talent."

"And then?"

The old lady waved to the vagrants - no, not vagrants, corpses - lying throughout the alley.

The girl who was once Charmagne took a drag off the cigarette and reached for a bottle.

bright_helm

本帖最后由 bright_helm 于 2012-7-13 15:49 编辑

全新目标

那顶油纸伞，如同梦境本身一样，是血红色的。

卢从她的噩梦中惊醒，双手死死紧攥着被单，尖叫声脱口而出。她看了看自己的身体，发觉冷汗浸透了浑身，却并没有看到鲜血。她控制住呼吸，试着缓缓平复刚刚感受到的惊恐。

卢希望回想这个梦魇，却好像是在捕捉一团烟雾。她越是用力它就越是快速地消散模糊。只留下一个画面深刻地印刻在她的脑海中：那顶油纸伞。关于它，似乎有一些很重要的内容，非常非常重要。

经过努力，卢已经很好地将昨夜的恐怖置之脑后。她与潘叔叔的见面就要迟到了，这是绝对不被允许的。即便她目前只有8岁，她也明白，潘叔叔不是一个可以轻松敷衍的人。

“以后，你会保证准时的，对吧，卢楚？”她的叔叔抽着烟袋问道，他的嗓音有些高而尖细。他的个子很矮，甚至只比卢楚高出5寸。

“是的，尊敬的叔叔。”

“很好。现在拿着这个包裹去劳师傅那里。按照他的指教去学习。不管遇到什么情况，都不能顶嘴，更不可以反驳。无论何时。懂了吗？”

“明白，尊敬的叔叔。”

“非常好。完成他教你的功课后，他会给你一个包裹。在你可以回家之后，直接把它拿给我。”说完，她的这位叔叔转身走向她身后的一个大块头健硕男人，此人这时正在跪着等候。即便跪着，这人也几乎和她的叔叔一样高。卢转过身，快速地离开。临走时，瞥见那个男人的眼神，其中似乎交杂着羞耻和...恐惧。

劳师傅是个要求严苛的硬汉。但却不是不苟言笑的那种，他会大笑，也会时不时地微笑。只不过，只有当他命令弟子们去做那些超出他们负担让他们感到颤栗的任务时，他才会在一旁微笑和大笑。

他对卢的教学与对其它弟子没有两样，首先为她示范一个架势或一种步法或者一系列出拳套路，然后要求她模仿这些动作，一次又一次地简单重复，直到他满意为止。一天下来，卢从精神到肉体上，都感到极度地疲惫不堪。

当劳师傅最终允许她离开时，他拿给她一个包裹要她交给叔叔。虽然此时她已经精疲力竭，但却感到一阵古怪的兴奋。她拖着疲软的双腿尽可能快地向家中走去。当穿过一条小路时，她不小心撞到了一位之前没有注意到的女人。卢赶紧低下头，为她的粗鲁莽撞而道歉。不过那个女人似乎根本没有察觉到卢的存在，径直与她擦肩而过。卢低着头抬起眼扫视了一下，看到这个女人穿着一身灰白色衣服，撑着一把猩红色油纸伞，伞上绘着一条凌空飞舞的黑龙。

卢瞬时呆住了。这把油纸伞...她之前见过。她非常肯定，它就是来自她梦中的那把伞。此时，一片红色的玫瑰叶飘拂过她的脸颊，轻荡荡地飞入小巷。卢震惊地站在原地。可惜她必须把包裹带回给叔叔，所以不可能去跟踪这个女人...在小巷的尽头，原本是一片空地市场。此时，却变成了一片血腥地狱。墙壁上，铺路石板上，路边停放的手推车上...到处都是泼溅的鲜血。市场里的人们惨死各处，都已被分尸凌虐成了一片片的血肉。

卢已经不记得她是怎样走回潘叔叔家把包裹交给他，甚至也不记得自己是怎样到家的。在整个夜晚呆滞的走动中，她唯一记得的是那把画着黑龙的红色油纸伞。一个来自她梦中的恐怖场景，今天活生生地出现在她眼前。她与那个女人相撞过的左肩处，残留下了一团红色的印记。卢从此每天拼命练功，夜里则无论多疲惫，都一路奔跑回家，她唯恐成为那个撑着红色油纸伞女人的下一个目标。卢楚暗自发誓，如果那一天真的来临，她一定会做好准备。她要克制住恐惧，死战到底。

一个由创伤恐惧所驱使的漫长童年，最终塑造出了一位强大无惧的成人。

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sammy帝原文录入

A New Purpose
by Damon Stone

The parasol, like the dream itself was red.

Lu threw herself out of the nightmare, a scream was ripped out of her throat as her hands convulsively gripped the sheets. She looked at her body and saw she was covered in sweat and not blood. She struggled to get her breathing under control and quiet the panic she felt.

Lu tried to remember the nightmare, but it was like trying to capture smoke. The harder she tried the faster it evaporated. Only a single image came to her mind: the parasol. There was something about it that was important. Horrifically important.

With effort Lu managed to put the night of terror behind her. She would be late for her meeting with Uncle Pan, and that would absolutely not do. Even at age of 8 she knew that her Uncle Pan was not a man to trifle with.

"You will be on time from now on yes Lu Chu?" spoke her uncle, his voice was somewhat high in tone and a little reedy. He was a small man. Only a six inches taller than Lu herself.

"Yes, honored Uncle."

"Excellent. Now take this package to Sifu Lau. You will do precisely what he says. At all time. No questions. Ever. Is that understood?"

"Yes, honored Uncle."

"Excellent. When he is done with you he will give you another package. Bring it to me, straightaway. After you may return home." With that her uncle turned away from her back to the large muscular man, on both knees. Kneeling he was almost as tall as her uncle. Lu turned quickly and left. The look in the mans eyes had been one of shame... and fear.

Sifu Lau was a hard and demanding man. Not unfeeling, he laughed, and smiled readily, but he would order his students about in hardships that would leave them battered and trembling while he smiled and laughed.

He taught Lu as he did all his other students, showing her a stance or a step or a sweep of the arm and expect her to mimic it and practice it and it alone until it was to his satisfaction. By the end of the day she was exhausted physically and mentally.

When Sifu Lau finally let her go, with a small package for her uncle, she was bone tired, but oddly energized. She walked as quickly as her tired legs would allow. Cutting through a side street she was bumped by a lady she had not seen. Lu quickly bowed her head to ask for absolution for her clumsiness but the lady just brushed by as if she hadn't noticed Lu at all. Lu glanced up without raising her head, the lady was dressed in grey carrying a crimson parasol with a black dragon dancing on it.

Lu stumbled. That parasol... she had seen it before. She was positive it was like the one from her dreams. A red rose petal tumbled past her face and into the alley. Lu shook herself. She didn't have time to follow the lady, she had to get the package to Uncle. The ally led to what had been an open market. Now it looked like a slaughterhouse. The walls, the pave-stones, the carts everything was washed in blood. And the people had been taken apart, their bodies reduced to lumps of meat.

Lu didn't remember how she made it back to Uncle Pan's house to deliver the package, or how she made it home. The only thing she remembered of that evening walk was the red parasol with the dancing dragon. An image from her dream, come terribly to life. There was a red smear on her left shoulder where she had bumped into the lady. She studied hard every day and ran home every night, no matter how tired she was, always fearful that The Lady with the Red Parasol would come for her next. Lu Chu swore she would be ready if that day ever came. She would swallow her fear and die fighting.

A traumatic and driven childhood gave way to an adulthood of intensity and fearlessness.

bright_helm

本帖最后由 bright_helm 于 2012-7-13 15:50 编辑

惊人发掘

艾琳感到十分不安。没错，当初是她主动申请加入这次探险考察的，但她真的没有在年龄上撒谎。现在，她坐在小镇背后这个空荡荡的房屋里，被要求从挖掘遗址现场“退休”。整个面试都由伊拉莫斯-麦纳主持，过程及其简短而干脆。他甚至一直面露着和蔼的微笑。她本以为已经通过了他的所有测试，结果还不到十分钟教授就告诉她，她应该打包回城了，接下来她可以搭乘下一班回国的飞机。

她盯视着放在倾斜桌面上的翡翠头像。针对这个“存疑文物”她已经做了几十页的注释笔记和素描，之所以这样称呼它是因为它与现存的所有已知文物分类都相互抵触。艾琳揉了揉疲惫的双眼。这样下去，她很快就需要配副眼镜了。又打了一个沉闷的哈欠之后，她决定去睡觉。也许清醒的头脑会为她带来全新的视角。她爬上床，把这个小头像放在了她的枕头上，就这样，她看着它的双眼进入了梦乡。

艾琳从睡梦中惊醒。睁开眼，发现自己仍旧盯着那个头像。急促的敲门声让她彻底清醒过来。门外一个声音大声喊着，起初用的是西班牙语，随后变成正宗的，带有浓重口音的英语。

“开门，克切维恩小姐，我们是警察。”艾琳快速清理了下思路。她未经允许就拿走了这个头像，但是在被逐出考古现场时，她还没来的及在发掘清单上记录它。他们不可能是为此找到她的。

“怎么啦？”她打开门，同时问道。

“我们需要你跟我们走一趟。在挖掘现场发生了一些...事故。恐怕现在没有什么幸存者了。”艾琳退后一步，呆住了，觉得头晕目眩。她无法想象怎样的事故才会导致整个小组的人都丧了命。除非他们是和走私团伙发生了冲突。

她抓起手提包，把她的笔记和头像都塞了进去，然后跟随两位警官离开。他们一定是兄弟，她心不在焉地想到。同样的巴拿马草帽，同样的黑色背心，甚至同样的怀表链。双胞胎。她不停地想着所有琐碎事情，好让自己无需面对思考刚刚获知的那个消息。

尸体被摆放在外面，看上去他们仿佛仅仅是在工间休息。她的眼神四处飘荡，完全不愿接触到那些昔日同僚身上盖着的白被单。从帐篷里看出去，一枚红色玫瑰花瓣正在凌空飞舞，漂浮着从一具尸体跳跃到另一具。忽然，什么东西在艾琳的包内发出了嘀嗒声，艾琳伸手摸出了那个头像。她发现了一个之前在印象里从未注意到的一排扭曲螺旋痕迹，沿着这道轨迹，她将它在手中翻来转去地审视。这些杂乱荒谬的字符似乎组成了一个连贯的句子。

“克切维恩小姐？很抱歉必须带你来这儿。”艾琳转过身，看到伊拉莫斯-麦纳正站在几英尺之外。他站得笔直，坚挺。他的肤色健康光亮，他的黑发在晨曦中闪耀。但是所有这一切此时却有些异样。这个清晨，他看起来似乎衰老而疲惫。

“我和你父亲隶属于同一个机构。当初他的死是我们所有人的损失。”他的凝视中充满了熠熠光辉。“如果你需要什么的话，记得银曦会。你父亲曾是我们中非常重要的一员。如果你在这里遭遇任何危险，那恐怕我将永远无法原谅自己。”说完，他转过身离开了。

带着些许迷惑，艾琳将注意力转回到手中的翡翠头像上。上面的浮雕拼出了一些音阶，但那不是她所熟知的玛雅语。艾琳大声读了出来。

“镨与火山灰。都归属于Er'nrawr？”这个Er'nrawr到底是谁或是什么神灵？伴随着这个沉寂的挖掘文物，这恐怕将成为她永远无法回答的一个问题。

(译注：“镨与火山灰。都归属于Er'nrawr？”，这句译得比较诡异，原文是："Pr es hamu. Mnden tartozk Er'nrawr?" ，里面还有若干缺失字母。既不是英语，又有字母缺失，实在抓狂。好在用谷歌大神狂搜一气之后，发现疑似匈牙利语。于是，按照匈牙利文翻了，大家，将就看吧。谁要是有更精准的处理方法，求科普~~_）

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sammy帝英文输入

An Startling Discovery

by Damon Stone

Eryn was more than a little put-off. It was true she had managed to talk her way into the expedition, but she hadn't lied about her age. Now she was sitting in a sparse room back in town having been asked to "retire" from the dig site. The interview by Eramus Manor had been quick but thorough. He smiled so kindly when he was done. She thought she had passed whatever test he had, but not more than ten minutes had passed when the professor had said that she was to pack and head into town. She would be on the next flight back to the States.

She stared at the jade head sitting on her wobbly desk. She had dozens of pages of notes and sketches on the "questionable object," so named because it defied classification. Eryn rubbed her tired eyes. She was going to need glasses soon. Stifling a yawn, she decided she would sleep on it. Maybe a refreshed mind would bring a new perspective. She crawled on to the bed and placed the head on her pillow and stared into its eyes until she drifted off.

Eryn woke with a start. She was still staring into the eyes of the head. The loud knocking that had awoke her sounded again. A voice called out loudly, first in Spanish and then in perfect, if heavily accented English.

"Open the door Miss Cochwyn, it's the police." Eryn quickly ordered her thoughts. She had taken the head without permission but she hadn't had a chance to catalogue it before she had been kicked off site. They couldn't possibly be here about that.

"Yes?" she asked as she opened the door.

"We need you to come with us. There has been... an accident at the dig site. I'm afraid there were no survivors." Eryn stumbled back from the door, her mind reeling. Eryn had no idea what kind of accident could have taken the lives of the entire team. Unless they had run afoul of some smugglers.

She grabbed her shoulder-bag, stuffing her notes and the head inside, and followed the two officers. They must be brothers, she thought absently. Matching panama hats, dark vests, and watch chains. Twins. Her mind was latching on to anything it could to keep from dealing with the news.

The bodies were laid out as if they had been struck down in the middle of work. Her eyes wandered. She didn't want to focus on the white sheets covering what had been her colleagues. From the tent she watched red rose petal dancing in the wind, tumbling and bouncing from sheet to sheet. Something clicked inside and Eryn reached into her bag and pulled out the head. She turned it and rolled it in her hand following a twisting and spiraling engraved line that her mind had not fully recognized during her earlier examinations. What had been a nonsensical jumble of words started to form a coherent sentence.

"Miss Cochwyn? I'm sorry that you had to be brought here." Eryn turned to see Eramus Manor standing a few feet away. He stood straight and tall. His skin had a healthy glow to it and his black hair shined in the setting sun. Something was wrong about all of this. He had looked so old and tired this morning.

"I belonged to the same social club as your father. His death was a loss to us all." There was an intensity to his gaze. "If you ever need anything, please remember the Order. Your father was an important man to us. I would never be able to forgive myself if you had come to any harm here." With that he turned on his heel and walked away.

Confused, Eryn returned her attention to the jade head. The glyphs spelled out something phonetically, but not in the Mayan languages she knew. Eryn sounded them out loud.

"Pr es hamu. Mnden tartozk Er'nrawr?" What or who was Er'nrawr? With the dig being shut down it was a question she might never answer.

bright_helm

本帖最后由 bright_helm 于 2012-7-23 14:12 编辑

祭祀之路

菲比-寇塔斯走出地下酒吧的大门，肩上披的毛皮大衣径直垂下，在爱琴海的海风中凌空飘荡。这套蛮合身的轻佻装扮难免让人感到尴尬，但至少今天穿着它们的目的达到了。她今晚获得了一个相当不错的信息，可以让她能够阻止拜勒弗召唤仪式的信息。

街对面的响声引起了她的注意，听起来像是木头敲击石路发出的塔卡，塔卡，塔卡的声音，同时还伴随着小声的咳嗽和咕哝。菲比从厚重大衣隐藏的枪套中轻轻抽出她的左轮手枪。她任由大衣滑落在地，举起枪瞄向了前方躲藏在阴影里的黑色身影，这会是什么人吗，有可能。这个身影是在向她招手吗？如果是的话，她是否应该去看看？还是，她承担不起这个风险？她必须先要把获得的信息交给亚历山大；不过，有时候高风险会带来更好的回报。

没能抵御住诱惑，菲比迈步穿过了街道。当她的双眼适应了此处的黑暗后，发现之前的身影是一个矮小瘦弱的驼背老妇人，她正拄着一根长着疙疙瘩瘩瘤结的藤杖。当菲比靠近时，她再次招了招手，随后向黑暗深处走去。在她身后，透射在地上的一片黑色身影拖出了一路扭曲翻腾的形状。菲比咽了咽口水。按理她应该马上转身返回。但是，她最终跟了上去。

这条阴暗的路径一直穿过各种边街和小巷。菲比尾随着老妇人，仅能勉强跟上她的身影。

这场跟踪最后结束在一栋建筑前。在建筑的拱门下，显然曾经矗立有一对守卫雕像。其中一座雕像仍然完好，是一只巨大的双头恶狗。而另一侧，则几乎是一堆碎石，只剩下一只狗头仍保存完整。它倾斜在基座上，一双石眼盯视着菲比，似乎在问“为什么你没有早点来这里解救我？”在两座雕像之间，最后一团紫色薄雾的痕迹正渐渐消散在视野中。

“不，”菲比一边小声惊呼一边冲上前去。当她跨入这栋建筑时，一片红色玫瑰花瓣，干瘪褶皱，被静静地印在了她踩过的石阶上。她穿过那些仅存的紫色能量时皮肤觉得一阵刺痛。“不。不。不。”

她冲进一个空旷的庭院。不由自主发出一声尖叫。

地中央，一个黑色沼池中正翻腾闪耀来自异世界的能量光芒。沼池周围环绕着许多已被取出内脏的尸体。一只奇异生物正在努力爬出这个发出脉冲光芒的池子。它的一只球茎状的头上，长着超出所有生物所需的无数眼睛，而另一只头上则长着覆盖有鳞片的宽长猪嘴，同时它正伸出舌头探嗅着周围的空气。还没等菲比观察到更多的细节，这个怪兽已经把它的注意力转向了她。

“不，”菲比大声说道，而它又向她走近了一步。

这个东西的胸腔中发出一阵轰隆隆的低沉吼声，让菲比呆立在原地，而就像是回声一般，院子的另一端此时传来了老妇人咯咯咯的笑声。

“不，不，不！”可惜，菲比的意愿，无人理会。

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++
以下英文，由sammy手动输入提供。

The Rite Path

by Michael Gallowglas

Phoebe Kotas stepped out of the speakeasy, fur coat slung over her shoulder and reveling in the fresh air coming off the Aegean Sea. As embarrassing as the form-fitting flapper dress was, it had served its purpose. She'd gotten good information tonight, information that would lead to stopping the Ritual of Bellephar.

A noise from across the street drew her attention, a sound something between a grunt and a cough followed by a tack, tack, tack - wood tapping on stone. Phoebe slid her revolver out of the hidden holster in the massive coat. She let the coat drop to the street as she aimed her gun at the dark figure - a person, perhaps? - partially hidden in the shadows. Was it beckoning to her? If so, could she afford to go? Could she afford not to? She had to get the information she'd discovered to Alexander; however, sometimes risks revealed great rewards.

Unable to resist, Phoebe crossed the street. As her eyes adjusted to the darkness, she saw the figure was a hunched over old woman, a tiny thing, leaning on a cane nearly as gnarled as the old woman herself. As Phoebe approached, the old woman beckoned once more and headed further into the shadows. In her path, a trail of darkness slithered and writhed on the ground. Phoebe swallowed. She should turn back. Instead, she continued on.

The Path of darkness led down side streets and alleys. Phoebe followed, never quite able to catch up to the old woman.

The trail came to a building. What had once been twin statues guarded the great open archway to the building. One of the statues was still intact - a great, two-headed dog. The other was a pile of rubble, though one of the heads was still whole. It lay on the ground at a lopsided angle. Its stone eyes glared at Phoebe as if asking, "Why couldn't you have gotten here sooner to save me?" Between the two statues, the last vestiges of a purple haze faded from sight.

"No," Phoebe whispered as she rushed forward. She stepped on a single dried and shriveled rose petal as she rushed into the building. Her skin prickled as she passed through the last of the purple energy. "No. No. No."

She rushed into a large courtyard. Her scream caught in her throat.

A dark pool of some other-world energy pulsed on the floor, surrounded by disemboweled bodies. An alien creature crawled out of the undulating pool. One of its bulbous heads held more eyes than any creature could ever need, and the other had a long, scaled snout with a tongue that tasted the air. Those were all the details Phoebe could discern before the creature turned its attention to her.

"No." she said as it took a step toward her.

The old woman's cackles echoed in the courtyard as a deep rumble emitted from the thing's chest, a sound that held Phoebe in place.

"No. No. No." But her protests were in vain.

bright_helm

本帖最后由 bright_helm 于 2012-7-23 14:14 编辑

倒计时

“嗯，这算不算是一个可爱的小惊喜啊。”在马库斯-吉姆伯格的右耳后忽然传来刺耳的嗓声。

马库斯对自己的时间把握很有信心，因此，他至少应该还有两分多钟可以用来打开保险箱，并在这个男人到场前离开。但是，显然他错了。马库斯非常紧张，因为他感到有个尖锐的东西正抵着他的右腰同时有个冰冷的枪口似乎正一路划上来指着他的左耳。他感到喉咙发紧。透过保险箱光洁的表面，马库斯看到一个男人正对着他咧嘴笑着致意。唯一能够辨识出的只是咧开的大嘴和一副红色的眼镜。倒影中的其余部分都模糊不清，房间里的幽暗灯光让这个男人的双眼看起来更像是两个深陷的黑洞。

“请继续啊。”

马库斯稳了稳双手，开始继续调整保险箱的密码组合。右旋。咔哒。结束。左旋。咔哒。结束。再右旋...咔哒。马库斯停了下来。

“你在等什么吗？”那个男人问道。

马库斯眨了眨眼，很惊奇这个男人还没有杀掉他。他旋了下门柄，打开了保险箱。一股带着霉味的空气扑面而来，仿佛是情人的叹息。

“啊，它就在那儿，”那个锯子般粗糙的声音再次响起。“让我们来看看。”

马库斯使劲盯看它，似乎把这件东西的细节深深印刻在脑子里。那个面具正摆放在白色天鹅绒上。材质看起来像是失去光泽的黄金。谁会把这么宝贵的东西放在这么破烂的一个地方？管它呢。经过了这么多年的搜寻，犯下了无数的罪行后，他终于看到了拉基纽的面具。
（*译注：Mask of Rakinui，Rakinui是毛利人神话中的两位创世主神之一。）

马库斯耳后的枪口，转向了他的右耳。
“把手放到口袋里，”那个男人小声耳语道。

经过艰难的心理挣扎，马库斯照做了。他摩挲过所有见到的远古神邸和未知创世者们的遗留物，此时他也非常想摸一摸这个面具。不过，他恐怕没有这个机会了，而且在他的愿望清单中还存在很多他尚未见过的物品。

“真有趣，”粗糙的声音又一次响起。

马库斯感到枪口离开了他的耳后。一只手越过他的脸颊伸了过来。手上的皮肤不像是马库斯曾经见过的任何血肉之躯。伸出的衣袖则是灰色的，在苍白的皮肤对比下，反而给人一种坚实鲜明的感觉。灵活的手指从面具下方推出了一样东西，一片血红色的玫瑰花瓣。花瓣边缘已经枯萎变黑，花瓣本身也已蜷曲枯萎。

“她会对这个东西更感兴趣的。”

那只手捏着玫瑰花瓣，收回到马库斯身后。随后又伸了过来，拿起拉基纽的面具，最终再次缩回，消失。

“倒数一百个数。然后你就可以走了。”

“你不杀我？”

“哦，不，”这个声音好像在强忍着笑意。“我希望你能转告马拉玛-莱西先生，他恐怕再也见不到他的宝贝面具了。”
（*译注：Marama Riwhi，犹太语姓名，我必须吐槽~~_{这都是啥啊，上次是奥地利语，这次是毛利人和犹太语}......让还不让翻译活了啊！)

马库斯开始倒数。“一百...九十九...九十八...”当大概数到七十七的时候，那个声音再度响起，不过此时它来自房间的另一端。

“数到零之后，你可没有太多可供逃离的时间了。对这个有兴趣的组织成员很快就会过来，他们的势力远超你的想象。如果发现它没了，他们会很不高兴。”

马库斯心中那份剩余物品的清单督促他加快了倒数的速度。

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
以下英文，由sammy手动输入提供。

Count Down

by Michael Gallowglas

"Well, isn't this a pleasant little surprise," a voice rasped behind Marcus Jamberg's right ear.

Marcus had been so sure of his timing, so sure he had at least two more minutes to get the safe open and flee before this man arrived. But he'd been wrong. Marcus tensed when felt something sharp prod his right kidney and something cold slide up next to his left ear. His throat tightened. In the safe's polished surface, Marcus a man's reflection grinned back at him. The only two clear things were the wide grin and the red glasses. The rest of the reflection was distorted; the dimly lit room made it look as if the man had gaping black hole for eyes.

"Please continue."

Marcus steadied his fingers and set them to deciphering the combination to the safe. Spin right. CLICK. Close. Spin left. CLICK. Closer. Back to the right... CLICK. Marcus paused.

"You waiting on something?" the man asked

Marcus blinked, surprised the man hadn't killed him. He turned the latch. The safe popped opens, musty air escaping like a lover's sigh.

"And there we have it," the voice rasped. "Take a look."

Marcus looked hard, burning the site of the thing resting there into his memory. The mask rested on white velvet. The metal looked like tarnished gold. Who would keep something so valuable in such a poor state? It didn't matter. After years of searching, and not a few crimes, he looked upon the Mask of Rakinui.

The gun cocked right behind Marcus's ear.

"Hands in your pockets," the man whispered.

With difficult, Marcus complied. He'd touched most of other objects of ancient and unknown origins he'd seen, and wanted to do the same with the mask. Only, his hand would never make it, and there were other items on his list he had yet to see.

"That's interesting," the voice rasped.

Marcus felt the gun leave his ear. A hand reached passed his face. The skin didn't resemble any flesh tone Marcus had ever seen. The sleeve that the hand sprouted from was grey, a very solid and deep brilliant color next to that pallid flesh. The fingers pulled something out from underneath the mask - a rose petal, blood red, with decaying black edges curling inward.

"She will find this most interesting."

The hand slid back behind Marcus, taking the rose petal with it. The hand returned, picked up the Mask of Rakinui, and vanished again.

"Count down from one hundred. Then you can go."

"You're not going to kill me?"

"Oh no," the voice seemed on the edge of laughter. "I want you to tell Dr. Marama Riwhi that he's never going to see his precious mask."

Marcus started counting. "one hundred... ninety-nine... ninety-eight..." At about seventy-seven, the voice spoke again, this time from across the room.

"You shouldn't wait too long to vacate after you get to zero. Parties interested in the mask will be here shortly, parties that serve interests beyond your comprehension. They will be displeased to find it absent."

Marcus's list whispered urging him to count faster.

bright_helm

本帖最后由 bright_helm 于 2012-7-23 14:14 编辑

极昼

“你比通常清醒了好多，”医生说道。“让我们重温一下上个周四结束时谈到的寒冷。”

“啊。”病人在沙发上移了移。“嗯。”他做了一个深呼吸。“有些人说恐惧是种寒冷的感觉。也许他们是这样的。但我不是。当我的心脏用那种固定节奏：崩，崩，崩，跳动的时候，它几乎让我的整个身体都从内向外燃烧起来。汗水会沿着我的脊背流下。穿越丛林或者探索沙漠中的湮没遗迹时，会充满了危险和恐惧。不过，它们远远比不上当你躺在冰雪之下时那种恐惧感觉的一半。”

“这是你在南极探险时的遭遇感受？”

“是的。”

“为什么不讲讲细节？如果我们能找到你的恐惧根源，我们就可以着手应对它。”

“好吧。我当时躲藏在一根石柱下面的雪堆中，那根柱子的式样仿佛是来自雅典或罗马，但是上面却镶嵌着发着冷光的翡翠。一米之外，另一个雪堆中有一只手伸出，指端都已经变成了黑色。一个死人脑袋戳在雪堆外面。冻僵的双眼在阳光的反射下闪闪发光，直直地盯着我看。我当时正发掘着这个地方，还寻思着如果让他们看到我，我也一定会变成另一具尸体。”

“他们？”

“私人侦探贾克斯-阿图瓦和詹姆斯-克拉舍。我知道他们已经有好一阵子了，不过我成功地没让他们注意到我。阿图瓦先去找的克拉舍，而克拉舍很乐意去干他最爱的消遣。你知道，挖宝。”

医生抬起头。“你之前从没提起过他们。”

“克拉舍会爆破。用那种最老旧的方法，炸药。他想用一根雪茄点燃了它们。现在想起来我觉得这实在是老土。阿图瓦当时试着阻止他。”

“长话短说。阿图瓦拿着他的.44口径手枪。克拉舍叼着一根雪茄，手里拿着一根雷管，引线离燃烧的烟头不过一英寸。”

病人抬头看向天花板，发出了一阵毫无喜悦的苦笑声。“这时一些炸药爆炸了。阿图瓦飞扑着寻找遮蔽物。克拉舍呆呆地看着四周，眨着眼睛不知所措。石头和冰雪像暴雨一样落下。”病人咬了咬嘴唇，像是要阻止自己讲下去，但是没能成功。“我开始觉得紧张。我的耳朵都发热了。克拉舍从没搞错过他的起爆时间。从没。”

“然后，我...看见了...天际线...”

“你在这里很安全，”医生轻声说道。

“我看到了两样东西。一束光，和一片玫瑰花瓣，血红色的，带着枯萎的黑色边缘，包裹在那道光束中...”

“是太阳吗？”医生询问道。

“不。当时阳光很充足，从未有过的充足，虽然从没提供过应有的温度。你会诧异在这么强烈的光线下还能有什么东西能隐藏得住呢。不是太阳。是另一种光...绿色的，就像是对着天空爆发的喷泉。我闭上眼睛，但是它仍能穿透进来，就像盯着强光太久后的那种影像...只不过，在黑暗中它用一种已经遗失的语言在向我述说，在我的脑海中低语。我睁开双眼，低语声消失了，但是绿光仍在那里，就在我的面前，燃烧照耀着，让日光都为之黯淡。”他突然直直地指向前方。“看到没有，医生？它就在哪儿。正向我们过来。”

病人的眼球忽然翻了过去，沿着嘴唇泛出了白沫。医生继续低头记录着。

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++
以下英文，由sammy手动输入提供。

The Color of Fear

by Michael Gallowglas

"You're more lucid than usual," the doctor said. "Let's revisit where we left off last Thursday about the cold."

"Yeah." The patient shifted on the couch. "Um." He took a breath. "Some people say fear is cold. Maybe for them. Not me. When my heart beats with that steady bam, bam, it burns the core of my body. Sweat drips down my back. Nasty while running through some jungle or some half-buried ruins in a desert. But it's not half bad when lying underneath a layer of snow and ice."

"This was on your expedition to Antarctica?"

"Yeah."

"Why don't you go into detail? If we can determine the source of your fear, we can work toward overcoming it."

"Okay. I'd thrown myself into a snow drift beneath a stone pillar that could have been from Athens or Rome, except for the luminescent jade set into it. A meter away, a hand reached out of another snow bank, fingers blackened. A head poked out of the snow. Frozen eyes glimmering in the sunlight, staring back at me. I picked that spot hoping that if they saw me, I'd be another corpse."

"They?"

"Agent Jaques Artois and James Crusher. I'd known about them for some time but managed to keep them ignorant of my existence. Artois had come up on Crusher while Crusher was up to his favorite pastime. You know."

The doctor looked up. "You've never mentioned them."

"Crusher blows things up. The old fashioned way. Dynamite. He lights them with a cigar. Kind of clichéd now that I think about it. Artois tries to stop him.

"Long story short. Artois's hand rested on his .44. Crusher gripped a lit cigar in his teeth. He held a stick of dynamite, the fuse about an inch away from the glowing tip."

The patient barked a laugh that had no hint of amusement as he stared upward. "Some dynamite went off. Artois dove for cover. Crusher and looked around, blinking, surprised. Rock and ice rained down." The patient bit his lip, as if to stop himself, but he couldn't. "I started getting nervous. My ears heated. Crusher never mistimes his explosives. Never."

"Then I...saw...against the skyline..."

"You're safe here," the doctor said.

"Two things. The light and a rose petal, blood red, shot through with withering black veins, framed in that light..."

"The sun?" the doctor prompted.

"No. I'd had enough of the sun, ever-present, never offering the warmth it promised. You would be surprised what can hide in that too bright light. No. The other light... green, erupting like a fountain against the sky. I shut my eyes, but it had burned its way inside, like looking at any bright light too long... Only, in the darkness, it spoke to me in some forgotten tongue, whispering in my mind. I opened my eyes and the whispering faded, but the green was there, in front of me, glowing, shadowing the daylight." He pointed straight up. "Do you see Doctor? There. Coming for us."

The patient's eyes rolled into the back of his head. foamed spittle flecking his lips. The doctor kept writing.

bright_helm

占楼。

波菠罗

翻译好文顶起_{我刚入的银曦会扩展没见有小说呢，是特定扩展才有的么。}

richard413

彪悍哥威武~~

wxdaxmh1314

波菠罗发表于 2012-6-5 17:15
翻译好文顶起_{我刚入的银曦会扩展没见有小说呢，是特定扩展才有的么。}

只有小扩才有啊

firefan

彪悍哥威武~~

logics41

入坑：热身~

powerover16

好详细的报告啊

什么东东

自从银曦会之后好久没有新作了啊

jellyroger

支持LZ，支持coc

firefan

催稿第二集^_^

bright_helm

有时限的东西，都搞完了。闲下来很不适应。于是，今天下午蛋痛，把剩下三个没英文的，照着牌盒里的纸翻了。
六篇齐全了。只剩下456的英文原文，待sammy帝补齐~~~

大家，请随意......