The Moderator Part 34: Something Nasty in the CellarCrypt.

Originally posted on Tales of the Parodyverse by Manga Shoggoth.

Parodyverse characters copyright (c) 2008 to their creators. The use of characters and situations reminiscent of other popular works do not constitute a challenge to the copyrights or trademarks of those works.

The Reverend James Harlseden had something nasty in his crypt.

It was not the Bishop, although the Bishop was there, having come to make sure that everything was satisfactory.

Neither was it any form of Elder Creature. As far as he could remember, The Reverend Harlseden had never had any such thing in his crypt. Nor bats in the belfry, no matter what the Bishop thought.

No. The thing was a statue. A big statue.

A statue of the Moderator.

"Look, James. There's nothing I can do about it. The Moderator decreed that pictures and statues of himself should go up in all schools, churches and other public places. I hardly think that a damp, gloomy crypt is really the place to put it. Why not get rid of that old cross you have behind the altar and stick it there. Then everyone will be able to see it."

Not for the first time The Reverend Harlseden wondered exactly what his superior had been doing during the theology classes. He manfully kept his speculations to himself.

"But Bishop. That cross dates back to the 1600's. It is part of the original church."

"James, James... You are so dogmatic about some things..." sighed the Bishop. "By the way, exactly what is that circle over there?"

The Reverend Harlseden followed the Bishop's pointing finger. There was indeed a circle there, at the far end of the crypt: a complicated circumscribed design that almost seemed to shift before his eyes. In the middle of the circle was a small pile of grey-silver dust with an irridescent sheen, piled on top of what looked like a folded robe. And he could not, for the life of him, remember how any of it got there.

"Ah..." he said. "I use it for playing Marbles."

The Bishop only half heard. He was now examining a new marble memorial that was just visible beyond it. "I don't remember authorising a new memorial," commented the Bishop. "And I did ask you to stop putting them up in Latin. This is the 21st Centuary, you know. Hmmm...

Errant drafts wafted through the crypt. The feeble electric light dimmed further as the rules of the universe shifted slightly as if swerving to avoid an obstacle. For a moment, an acrid smell filled and overrode the normal slightly damp smell of the crypt.

They both looked at the circle. Before their eyes, the pile of dust flowed and grew into a female figure. Nude, so dark-skinned as to be almost black, and - if the truth be told - an extremely annoyed expression on her face.

The Bishop did the only thing he could think of doing. He fainted.

The Reverend Harlseden didn't faint, although he did politely avert his eyes as the figure reached down and slipped on the robe. The scene seemed faintly familliar, and there was a name hovering, just beyond the cusp of memory...

"Ebony...?"

"Hello James. Who's the fat idiot? The Baby-eating Bishop of Bath and Wells?"

"No. Not nearly as interesting as that. Just the local See."

The two of them dragged the Bishop up to the main church, then Ebony ducked back into the crypt to avoid any complex theological explanations. After being persuaded that he had been working too hard, and had a slight turn in the damp atmosphere of the crypt, the Bishop was packed off to his offices with a promise that the Reverend Harlseden would sort the matter of the statue out for once and for all.

Back in the crypt, the Reverend Harlseden found Ebony gazing at the statue.

"Will he be back?"

"No - not after fainting like that. He has too great a sense of his own importance. Pride can be a very useful sin, sometimes."

"He got a good look at me. Perhaps he will have some lust to brighten his day now..." she looked at the statue.

"Now, that is the moron who deleted me. Doesn't look any better as a statue. What do you plan to do with it."

The Reverend Harlseden gave the matter due consideration.

"Let's drop it in the Thames." he decided.

"Yes. Lets."