| DCC #34 |
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| DCC #34. |
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| Threat Level |
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| Active Status |
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| Other Names |
| 874 Everwood Lane, Christiansburg, Virginia. |
Description: It's a building in the market district — pretty unassuming. Stone walls, wedged in between a bar and a post office. You walk in, nothing special, a little lobby. Usually there's a receptionist there. Watch out for her. She's not normal. She'll ask you to leave because the place is private property — unless you're sporting the seal. She sees our logo anywhere on you and all the hostility evaporates. She'll welcome you to DCC #34. That's your cue to get the fuck out.
There's no place by that name in Society records.
I know of at least 40 DCCs across the U.S. and none of them are called "number thirty-four." Dunno whether it was a clerical error or what, but we just… didn't fill that slot. And since we found out about this thing, we can't. Too much risk of confusion, too dangerous.
Anyway, back to the Aberration.
We don't have any Warders who've gone in further than the lobby yet. Every one I've spoken to agrees with me: soon as she says you're in dee-cee-cee number thirty four, a kind of cold terror grabs you by the ankles and walks you to the exit. Dunno why, but it sure as fuck isn't normal.
We see a couple folks go in and out every so often, about seven or eight regularly. They're who you gotta watch out for. They look just like us — normal people, maybe armed, with the little Wayward seal somewhere, whether on a pin on their cap or a patch on their vest. But remember, they only look like us. They have this goddamn aura of wrongness coming from them so thick you could cut it with a knife. We don't know what they are, but they sure as hell aren't human.
Background: One of our boys, Jimmy Thompson, was passing through town chasing rumours about the Bunny Man — a local urban legend, not important. He interviewed some folks, and one of them asked if he was with "that group from a couple weeks earlier". Some well-placed questions and observation led him to the building. He waltzed in, proudly sporting the seal on his cap. Probably thought he found another fringe group to ally with.
That's how we found out about the deterrent effect. That receptionist smiles at him and asked for his Outfit number and the poor kid was out of there as fast as his legs could carry him.
Location and Population: City records say it was built in about 1925 as a tavern, but is now owned by one Nathaniel Edward. Doesn't say what he uses it for — city don't care as long as he pays his taxes, which he does. We tried looking for someone in town with that name. No dice.
Hunting or Procurement Methods: Stay the fuck away from it. Two Warders from an Outfit a couple towns over have volunteered to check in on it every couple of weeks. It's not harming anyone, per say… But that thing ain't natural and we're not risking some godforsaken false Warders getting Normans rattled.
Encounter Records: Jimmy went back in a couple days later after swallowing his fear1. Receptionist wasn't there this time, apparently. Instead there was a middle aged looking guy, brown hair, looking a little rough. I guess something dulled his Jim's response enough that he could hold a conversation with the guy without pissing his pants. Lucky for us, he had the foresight to keep a tape recorded in his pocket before downing his shots.
Jimmy: W-who are you?
Unknown: Hey, pal. I'm Nate, I own the joint. You're from the Outfit in Grotts, right?
Jimmy: Yeah. Yeah, I'm from there. What the hell is this place?
Unknown: You never been in a DCC before?
Jimmy: I been in plenty of DCCs and we don't have a thirty-four.
Unknown: What? We've had a thirty-four for months. We're probably the most secret one in the States. Are you with the Bureau or something?
Jimmy: There's never been a DCC thirty-four in any of the records, man. I don't know who the fuck you are but the Circle doesn't take kindly to impersonators.
Unknown: Circle, my ass. You have no clue what the hell you're talking about. I was wondering why we hadn't gotten anyone from any other outfits in a while, apparently it's because you're all insane. I'm gonna have to ask you to leave.
Jimmy: I'm warning you, man. Knock it off with the impersonation. You've got no idea what you're getting into.
Unknown: Get out of here.