HOH-012
Barista: Alex Gálvez
Date: Dec-28-2019
Receipt: HOH-012
Subject: House of Horus
I hate working weekends. But sitting alone with my thoughts? Worse. And Delano isn’t exactly helping me clear my head. So, here I am, deep in the trenches of research, chasing a thread that seems to unravel faster than I can catch it.
Ireland. House of Horus. Drogheda. Dundugan. A barrow. An ancient, hollowed-out grave. There’s a connection here—I know there is. But it’s hazy as hell. Feels like there’s something that just isn’t clicking. Something is either horribly wrong with this service… or something is horribly wrong with the Coffee Trade itself.
Old legends talk about burial sites near Drogheda—older than recorded history. Hollowed-out hills, wrapped in whispers from tongues long dead. Some say they were the resting places of kings. Others? Something older. Something that shouldn’t have been disturbed. And now the House of Horus has their sights set on one of them.
Old legends.
I mean—we deal in weird. I get that. Comes with the job. But this? This doesn’t fit. The Coffee Trade. Customers from… let’s just say far away, usually below our feet. We know how that works. Every lead I’m finding in this case? Points to fairytales. Legends. Myths… nonsense. I can’t even find a solid connection to Asmi here.
Maybe it’s a corpse with more bite than bones? An ancient weapon? Artifact? Something from Solomon? Crowley? Rasputin—bit far from Russia. Dee? That’s a stone’s throw, right? Whatever it is, it’s something that should probably stay buried. But what could be worth the effort of all of this? And why bother setting up in Vegas if his prize is to be found across the Atlantic?
Eh. Whatever it is, we’ve got bigger problems this week. Maybe that’s what scares me the most.