Journal of Capt. Jema Matango, United States Air Force Reserve

Jason S. Forshey
I am Jema Matango, a Captain in the United States Air Force Reserve, and this is my story.I can imagine that few will take me seriously and even fewer will believe the wild tale that I am about to tell, but I assure that this is all true.The only proof I have is my word, and that will have to suffice.
My history isn't all that unusual, nothing is particularly out of the ordinary. I immigrated to the United States with my family from my home in Kingston Jamaica in 1983. When I was of age I entered the United States Air Force Academy and earned my comission four years later. I fought in the Gulf War of 1990, the second Gulf War of 1993, and the second Korean War of 1995, making a name for myself as a fighter pilot and somewhat of a war hero. In 1998 I entered the Air Force Reserve and moved to Boston. It was there that my life took a change, perhaps for the better, but in my opinion for the worse.
It was in Boston in January of 1998 that I met some people that would become integral parts of my life. The first was Jeffrey Ventura, nicknamed "Ace" by his comrades. Ace was a fellow Air Force pilot, though he specialized in heavy transports as opposed to the fighters that I flew. He was stable and tight lipped, and was quite the holy terror in combat.
Second was Gladwyn McCauley, a private investigator. Gladwyn was aging and as a result was a bit slow, but he had the eyes of a hawk and the deduction skills to rival Sherlock Holmes.
The third was Dwight Rheinhold, a scholar of history and an expert in the occult. Dwight was very intelligent and could decipher any ancient or cryptic language.
Fourth was Leslie Darkhorse, a native American although I can't remember what tribe he came from. Leslie was an erratic, and called himself an environmental terrorist. He would destroy whatever he could find that would cause damage to nature. His idea of a vision quest involved plastique and nuclear weapon plants.
The last was Doctor Peter Collins, a young physician right out of residency. Peter was an incurable skeptic, and had a quirk of personality that made him the most annoying SOB I've ever met. With these men I would face challenges unheard of, fight against unimaginable evil, and face death itself. I would also lose several of these men whom I consider close friends.
These men that I hooked up with had an unusual hobby. Through Gladwyn's career as a Private Investigator, they would earn extra money as paranormal investigators. I thought it was a clever hoax at first, nothing more than a scam.
Within a week however I was proven wrong. We began to have ecounters with a bizarre cult. They used magic and mysticism to remove their enemies, usually civic leaders, by means of personalized notes that would kill the recipient upon reading. The death was grusome, all of the natural destructive enzymes in the body used to destroy dead cells would be released at once to literally dissolve the body within minutes. The cult worshiped a small stone idol in the form of a fat headless man with mouths in the palms of its hands. The idol would excrete a thick green fluid that triggered the enzyme effect when introduced into the body. We made use of this idol by putting the fluid in our bullets to give them more bite. When the leader of the cult was finally tracked down, he pulled out his final trump card and called upon a being he referred to as Y'Golonac. The wall of the room burst open and a living form of that idol charged us. If not for the added firepower the fluid gave us, we would have lost. We managed to destroy/dispel Y'Golonac, and in doing so destroyed the idol and the fluid it created.
The next encounter took us to Oceania, a miracle of technology built in the Gulf of Mexico. Oceania was a city built both upon and beneath the ocean. It was powered by the ocean currents and was totally self sufficient. A paradise on earth it was, and a tourist trap to say the least.
We had been hired to investigate some odd goings on in the city. It was also a great chance for a free vacation. It quickly became a lot less fun than we expected. The leaders and administrators seemed to be under control, all we had to do was find those who were pulling the strings on these political puppets. It was in the depths of Oceania's lower levels that we found it.
We encountered a nest of creatures that defy easy description, hideous gray things with 5 pseudopod legs and 5 thin tentacle arms. Dwight and Ace and I stumbled upon 10 of them in the board room of Oceania's leaders. We took out 8 of them before they got us. Ace was separated from us and we didn't see him again for a while. Dwight and I managed to escape, actually the others freed us. We also stumbled upon another secret of the city, its real power source. We found a small glass sphere with a purple substance inside.
The sphere was warm and slightly wet to the touch, and gave off a weak and muffled twittering noise. We broke the sphere open to examine it further, big mistake. Inside this "battery" was a creature made of a black gel, a huge creature covered with eyes and mouths and that made a hideous screeching roar. It would almost laugh at us as it bore down.We barely escaped with our lives. Not even 35 kilos of Leslie's plastique could stop it, it did little more than make it mad.
A few more kilos put Oceania out of it's misery, and fortunately we got back to our boat to find Ace waiting for us. He seemed ok, but a little worse for wear and a bit pale.
Our next mission took us to South America into the bowels of the Amazon basin. We'd been hearing reports of some bizarre activity in the ruins of an old temple, and who were we to pass up a chance at the bizarre.
We found the temple after a great deal of jungle rot and insect annoyance. We'd been there not more than 30 minutes when we found the parties responsible for the bizarre activity. They were taller than normal men, slightly over 2 meters, and wore metal suits that made them look like silly robot aliens from a cheap scifi thriller. But silly as they looked, they fought like enraged bulls, and bullets couldn't penetrate the armor those suits provided.
After being beaten into submission and captured, we found out that those were not men in suits. They were a race of robots calling themselves Cybermen. These Cybermen had enslaved a native pygmy tribe known as the Tcho-tchos, savage little men with few inhibitions and fewer brain cells. They were on a mission to enhance their power with magic. But to have magic they needed a god, one to call their own.
The Cybermen posessed an artifact known as the Eye of Hypnos that could create a god. So we were stapled to the wall of the chamber, forced to watch helplessly as the Cybermen spawned a god. They were a race of cold logic and no feeling, and they had chosen a god from Earth pop culture, Mr. Spock. Yes, it was silly, but it was happening in front of us. A revelation hit me during the ritual, why don't we create a god of our own to fight theirs it was crazy and half-assed, but it was our only option.
The choice was obvious, the only being who can't stand Mr. Spock, none other than Dr. McCoy. Yes, even sillier, but again I was there and you're only reading this second hand. Spock appeared, and the Cybermen worshiped him. Then McCoy appeared, destroyed Spock, destroyed the Cybermen, and destroyed the Tcho-tchos. Then he freed us from our bonds with a smirk that can only be described as mischievious, McCoy took a different form, that of a swarthy man of Egyptian features with ebon skin. With a sneer and a chuckle he introduced himself, Nyarlathotep. From this point we had become the playthings of an Elder God, one with a sense of humor and a real short temper.
Our next mission took us to Seattle. Leslie left us to pursue spiritual fulfilment in the desert southwest, and Peter left us just because he couldn't take the strangeness anymore. However we took on 2 new members. We brought in Cameron Steele, a design engineer who was a whiz with technology. He was very down to earth, a skeptic like Peter but not nearly as annoying.
We also found Jose Julio, who joined us in our retreat from South America. He was a punk, sruffy and loud on the outside. But Jose was brilliant, a genious, and could work miracles with a computer, he was the best hacker we'd ever seen, one of the best on the planet.
In Seattle we were hired by New World Incorporated, a firm that specialized in environmentally friendly technologies and products. The man in charge was Edward Chandler, a friendly man with great business sence. They hired us to act as couriers for one of their experiments, something highly advanced and something the competition would stop at nothing to get.
While transporting the specimen we were jumped by this competition. They looked like nothing more than bike punks with big guns and they almost got us, but luck was on our side. We escaped the gangsters and got the package to NWI headquarters. Then we made the mistake of looking inside the package. It was a glass cage, totally sealed to the outside, within the glass was a small but ghastly creature. It was black, slimy, tentacled, and almost looked like a tree.We dlivered the package and heard it referred to as "the baby." I would hate to have seen an adult. Unfortuantely I did, and also came upon it's mother.
We found a device that created a strange magnetic field within a huge glass chamber, similar to the cage the baby was in only larger, being the curious one in the group, Gladwyn turned on the device and activated the field. Before us, in the glass chamber, a creature appeared.
It was huge, green, covered with slime, crawling with tentacles, had a huge fang-filled mouth, and was dripping a white liquid that stank of ammonia. Before us this thing gave birth to another baby creature, and made a howl that shook every nerve in our bodies. Cameron deactivated the device thinking it would make the thing go away. We found out the hard way that the device was made to summon and DETAIN the creature, and it charged after us. We did the only sane thing we could think of, we ran like hell. Outside we saw that it had broken out of the building into the grounds of the complex, and people would go utterly insane just at the sight of it. We saw guards turn their rifles on eachother and secretaries gouge out their eyes with pencils.Thankfully the creature left just as mysteriously as it arrived. By this time Chandler had appeared again, but this time a lot less friendly. He had a pair of creatures in tow, adult versions of the baby we had delivered to the complex. Chandler let out an enraged shout and ordered the beasts to kill us. Again, we ran like hell and got out of Seattle.
Our next job took us to New Orleans.We heard of some more activity on the part of NWI, and since now we know what they are really involved with we made it a mission to stop them. The activity involved the aquisition of some antiquities and some archaeological finds from Northern Africa. Being our scholar of the occult, Dwight informed us that such objects could hold unheard of power and if it got into the wrong hands we were all in trouble.
We'd been noticing some changes in Ace, very subtle at first but becoming more and more pronounced. He had grown considerably and was now almost 8 feet tall.  He was also as agile as a cat hopped up on cocaine and had the strength of an ox. The creatures under Oceania, or someone working with them, had done something to Ace. It was a blessing in disguise, for although his appearence was becoming more bizarre by the day, his new-found powers saved us from gruesome deaths many times.
Anyway, I digress.
In New Orleans we cought wind of a deal that was going down between some art dealers and some agents of NWI. The deal was to go down at a charity event that evening, a very formal and posh affair to say the least. As the deal was concluded and we overheard all of the info we needed to overhear, we jumped them.
The art dealer was nothing more than a NWI employee hired to dig up strange things and he didn't know much. The buyer on the other hand was high in the ranks, very close to Chandler himself. He bolted out of the ballroom, and right into a cemetery. A cemetery at night in a city rife with voodoo is not the place you want to be latet night, but that's where we were headed.We cornered the agent in a clearing surrounded by huge crypts. Unfortunately for us, this agent also had command over those beasts we encountered in Seattle, two of them came charging out of the darkness at us. Once again, we ran like hell, and the agent managed to get away into the night.
We decided that it would be a good idea to take a break for a while, not only to calm our tried nerves but to let the heat with NWO cool down a little. We went to the most inconspicuous part of the country, someplace where nothing out of the ordinary could ever happen, Kansas. Boy were we wrong.
On the news one night we saw a story about the space shuttle Atlantis.The shuttle had run into trouble of some kind, all contact was lost. The last signal received from the shuttle involved a lot of screaming and video of strange colored lights coming after the shuttle. The news flash quickly took a different turn, saying that contact was reestablished and all was well, and that the shuttle would return in 4 days as scheduled.
We all looked at each other and declared the whole situation to be bullshit. As if on cue we heard a horrific and deafening crash less than a mile from the farm house we were staying in.When we got to the site, we saw the twisted and burning wreckage of the Atlantis. Cameron always carried a geiger counter so he turned it on, and the needle instantly jumped to the top of the scale and stayed there. Inside there were radiation burns on the bulkheads of the shuttle and on the remains of the crew.
One of the poor bastards had managed to survive the crash, but he was so afflicted with radiation burns that he wouldn't live any more than a few agonizing days. Again as if on cue we began to hear sirens and heavy diesel engines and decided to get the hell out of Dodge. Once we had bailed and hidden ourselves in the corn, a new twist was added to the mix. The cargo doors of the Atlantis burst open, and a glowing light of an indeterminable color emerged. It was the same colored light we saw on the news. But it's only the beginning with this story.
The military came in and clamped down as much security as it possible could, the air could barely get in and out of that are, in addition to the soldiers, we saw a couple of men wearing black jumpsuits. The only distinguishing mark on these jumpsuits was a pine green triangle embroidered on the shoudlers.
These men didn't look like military but they appeared to be in charge. With all of that security and firepower, we decided to stay out of the way and watch passively. We overheard some things the men in the jumpsuits said. They refered to the light we saw (calling it the color) and said something about an operation in Los Angeles. By using large electromagnetic field generators, they trapped the color and hauled it away. Then the wreck of the Atlantis was bagged up and shipped out, leaving no trace save for the crater and the burnt corn. A few cleverly placed meteor chunks would complete the cover-up. Needless to say, our vacation crashed and burned (no pun intended) and we decided that this operation in LA was worth looking into.
We arrived in LA after taking on another member of our investigator team. His name was Po, a Shaolin Monk, he could do things with his punches and kicks that would rival an anti-tank weapon. The section of LA that caught our interest was a shattered slum neighborhood left over from a large Earthquake.
An old football stadium was the center of attention, and word had it that NWI had some sort of massive operation going there.We took it upon ourselves to smash the works since we knew what kinds of things Chandler was dabbling in. Rumor had it that it was going to go down at sunset on the night of the full moon, which was in 2 days. We snuck into the stadium and found a huge stone altar in the middle of the field, as well as a long table with several chairs and a black throne in one of the endzones. A few well placed charges of plastique would make sure that the party was crashed, and with a remote detonator attached we could eliminate all of the conspirators as well.
The time of the ceremony rolled around, we were all hiding out in the press box of the stadium. Chandler and several of his corporate officers entered the stadium, along with some civic leaders and some government officials. Then at sunset a new figure entered the stadium, a tall man dressed in stereotypical garb of a pharaoh. He sat upon the throne and gave the word to start the ceremony.
Chandler and his buddies stood in a group before the altar and began a strange chant. We felt the gorund begin to rumble and decided that this was a good time to press the button. All we got was the click of the detonator switch, the charges didn't fire much to our dismay. The ground burst open in three places and some ghastly creatures emerged. They were gray skinned, resembling huge squids with shells, and they made a hideous chanting noise. The chanting changed to something different, and from thin air there appeared two of those huge tree-like monsters. The man in the pharaoh garb then stood up and began an incantation of his own.
He referred to himself as Nephren-Ka, the Black Pharoah, and called upon an entity named Shub-Niggurath. The air above the altar began to shimmer, and from what looked like a tear in reality itself came that hideous being we saw in Seattle. The gibbering this creature made was sickening, and what we saw transpire was even worse. Chandler and all of the people with him stopped the chant and approached the thing. Shub-Niggurath is apparently female, for each of the people took hold of a nipple and partook of her milk, the white liquid that stank of ammonia. All of this was too much for Cameron and his realist mind. He lost all touch with reality and ran onto the field screaming. Not only did he get himself killed, very brutally, by the thing, he also blew our cover.
The next thing we knew, we were naked and caged on the field and being looked over by Chandler and Nephren-Ka.
We knew that we were in trouble, and escape was not much of an option at the time. Then I felt something pushed into my hand from behind, it was a note that read "don't worry, you'll be free in a moment." As if on cue, Chandler and Nephren-Ka put on faces of shock and worry, maybe even a little fear. From one of the tunnels under the stands came a man in a black trenchcoat.
He was very pale, he wore mirrored sunglasses and a Dead Kennedys t-shirt, his hair was black and stood wildly, and his name was Robert Albrecht Schmidt. On the breast of his coat was the same embroidered green triangle we saw in Kansas. Without little more than a smirk, Robert pounced and attacked Chandler. Chandler and Nephren-Ka were quite outmatched and vanished into thin air. Schmidt freed us from the cages, we retrieved our clothes and gear, and he formally invited us to work for him. This is the day that our careers as paranormal investigators took a turn for the better, for this was our induction into Delta Green.
Our fight with NWI was by no means over, in fact it had just begun. Over the next months we would chase them all over the planet, and even into the fabled Dreamlands, in an effort to stop them from bringing the forces of a greater and unknown evil into the world. The next encounter was in the Carribean, a place where I felt right at home. We ran across a small and weasel-like man named Samuelson, a reasearch consultant for one of NWI's holding companies.
We hated this man from the get go, and the feeling was quite mutual. As much as I would have liked to rip the little worm's face off and mail it to his mother, I couldn't because he was not even human. He was a Shoggoth who had taken human form as a disguise, a Shoggoth being the very creature we found in the battery beneath Oceania. His personality could make the air around him freeze, and got to every nerve in your body.
His part in this story would come shortly. We made an assault on the NWI corporate HQ on an isolated island. The entrance was not heavily guarded, and I felt quite certain we got in too easy. That feeling was confirmed in the elevator leading to the bowels of the complex when knockout gas was introduced to put us all on the floor and down for the count. We awoke to find ourselves stapled to the wall, yet again, in a room surrounded by Samuelson, several NWI top officials, and our old buddy Chandler. Through Chandler's gloating over our situation, we learn that Nephren-Ka was really Chandler, and the pharoah we saw in the stadium was just a clever ruse because he knew we were watching.
Chandler was on a quest to become immortal, a servant and avatar to our old buddy Nyarlathotep. He had brought us here to witness his ascention to godhood and declared that we were to be his first sacrifices. He began to go through his ceremony and we were all certain that this was he end. Then our salvation came, in the form of a cat. While in the Dreamlands we came across a cat, and Dreamlands cats are highly intelligent. The cat had taken a liking to us and decided to join us, and fortunately had been overlooked when we were rounded up.
He sprung our bonds and we went in swinging. Ace and the others went after Chandler and his servants, but I wanted Samuelson. I ran to a rifle rack on the wall nearby that was loaded with devices called Shoggoth prods, a large staff that can easily stun a Shoggoth but it more than capable of killing one. I grabbed a prod and charged at Samuelson, who tried in vain to attack me. It felt to good to shove that prod down his throat and activate it.As Samuelson melted, the last thing he saw was my smile as I pissed on what remained of his body. I turn around to see that most of Chandler's cohorts are dead or dying, and that Chandler himself is mortally wounded and left for dead in a large tank of protoplasm. At this point we decided it would be a good time to call it a day.