The Figure: The Old Vault

It had been a long time since I had been to The Vault. The task of locking away artifacts or acquired pieces fell to one of my assistants. It was considerably the largest room in the complex, being where anything dangerous was stored it wasn’t directly connected to the rest of the sections. I took the long walk to The Vault, taking Number 3 with me to help pull the door open. A large metal door made from the brass colored material as the rest of the structures of my complex, with a large wheel in the center, much like a ship’s wheel, spun open to free the multiple latches that held the door shut. Once inside I sent Number 3 to gather a few other things while I went to find the beak. Shelves and shelves of strange items in glass containers fitted with brass handles I pulled the large box containing the large cut section of beak from that unknown creature. It looked more or less like a cleanly cut part of a squid beak, that shimmered like a beetle shell. Even after all these years it still resonated with some kind of weird magic, and a sense of something that only existed to cause fear. Like a lot of these ‘treasures’ I hated them, but they were useful. If not as material than as research for comparison to this hellish anti-universe.

Ever silent Number 3 walked up behind me holding the things they were sent after. The first being a large glass Spherocylinder filled with a brackish liquid, floating inside was a long arm, with matching long fingers or so they appeared at first glance. Observed closer the fingers were long individual tentacles. The second object was second Spherocylinder, growing inside and cover half of the glass container looked like a small section of forest floor, moss, mushrooms, small rocks, fallen leaves, they all gave off a small barely noticeable glow but the main draw to the eye was a strange yellowish isopod somehow still alive after all this time. The final item was a box or rather a cube of a black glass like substance that no matter the heat applied to it remained a steady cold temperature

I didn’t need to say anything Number 3 knew to just follow, taking the ‘artifacts’ back to the lab. Sitting the cube down on a work table and turning my attention to the other two Spherocylinders. Putting down the one holding the isopod first. And apply a small jolt of electricity to the container stunning the small creature inside. Working quickly to open it and remove a small egg, that while in the tube remains such, simply an egg. But once outside its stasis developed quickly, though before it could develop to the point of hatching I placed it on the cube, instantly ice vapor started pouring off the cube. The small egg hissed and popped in a tiny puff of cold air. I took down notes despite the fact the results were what I had expected.

Next was the strange hand. Much like the isopod, I stunned the arm before removing it from the liquid it floated in. Even through my helmet I could smell it. Not simply rot, something else entirely something I didn’t quite have the words for. A strange combination of seaside salt, swamp water and the smell you get when opening a portal, where the smells of two dimensions meet. I shook my head once and pushed that reflex to gag to the back of my mind. I barely had enough sustenance in my stomach to function as it was, and I didn’t want to clean up my helmet again. Gently I pulled the arm out of the Spherocylinder, wet, slimy and soft. Like wrestling a jelly mold covered in grease. It half flopped half slipped out my fingers landing palm up on the stone. The stone hissed for a moment, and vapor poured off, but once the liquid had frosted the arm remained undamaged by the cold. “Intresting.” I said, and pulled the arm free, with a small effort where the fluid from its jar had frozen it in place.

Finally I tested the thing that caused this new line of thinking. The beak. It needed far less care in its preservation. Being simply made of keratin or something approximating it from where the creature it was borne from. Despite being no different than a bird beak touching it felt wrong. Even through my gloves it felt oily, though not slick, though not quite sticky either. Tacky might be the word, or simply its texture was unsettling. I settled to finish its test quickly so as to not touch the thing any longer than needed. Like the hand, placing it on the stone caused an initial reaction. A small amount of vapor then nothing, unlike the hand that the beak part had seemed to stiffen up and become slightly more brittle, but not enough to break. Similar to fabric that had gotten damp and frozen. But quickly after removing it from the stone the beak seemed to thaw. “Just as I thought.” I said, returning the beak to its box.

Making sure everything was secure I called for Number 1 and Number 3. “Return these to the vault.” I instructed and with a nod they took the items from the worktable and were out the door.

Now that I had a new avenue of what I could do to deal with this place I had a lot of work to do. I would possibly have to make my way to the ‘real world’ for some supplies, and magic tomes. I would need a plan in place. I never liked being away from this place for too long. Despite my assistants knowing as well as I do about taking care of and maintaining the compound I didn’t trust them without my direct guidance. I closed my eyes, sighed to myself, and thought of something she’d once said, “Even the vastest ocean has a shore.” Opening my eyes. “And I’ll find it.”