stargateficrec | The Shadow Over Chatsworth by Martha (R by reccer)

Show: SG1
Rec Category: Horror
Characters: Daniel, Rodney
Pairing: none
Het/Slash/Gen: gen
Warning: violence
Author on LJ: saffronhouse
Author's Website: AO3
Link: The Shadow Over Chatsworth

Why this must be read:

Note: Set in SG1 as takes place on Earth, but SGA fans will get a kick out of this, too.

Another shining example of Martha's mastery of Southern Gothic atmosphere and vast paced suspense. Also another wonderful illustration of her wrapping of canon elements into an original framework and storyline. Martha traps Rodney and Daniel in a small southern town with their car broken down on a rain-choked road. Finding accommodations in the only B&B in town, they're in for a jaw-dropping surprise that could kill 'em. Besides the fantastic horror elements, I loved seeing the friendship between these two men who don't have a lot of screen time in canon. They just seem to work so well together in Martha's wonderful hands. Be prepared for shivers, eye-saucer moments, and squeaks. This fic will inspire all of them.

Story Summary: Rodney McKay really hates small towns.

The sidewalk curved over a neatly maintained lawn and took a sharp turn at the inevitable Civil War monument. They passed the statue in silence, though Daniel ran his fingers over the raised letters on the brass placard on the base, and fleetingly thought of asking Rodney for his flashlight. In the end he let it go. He could read the commemoration in the morning.

Then he felt a funny tingling at the back of his neck and whirled back to look at the statue again.

Dammit!" he burst out. "I knew I wasn't imagining things! Arlene and Dakota really were wearing the sign of Exu. The town has a monument to him in the town square!"

"I told you that meatloaf was a bad idea," Rodney said. "Who the hell is Exu?"

"He's known in African and South American spiritual traditions. God of the crossroads, the divine trickster. Look!" The monument was all stark outlines, black against the night sky full of roiling gray storm clouds. "He has the archetypal horns on his head and the exaggerated phallus --"

"Definitely the meatloaf. I'm no archaeologist," Rodney snorted, "but even I know little towns in the Southern U.S. don't generally erect statues with big dicks to wave over the town square."

"Which doesn't change the fact that we're standing right here looking at it."

Rodney was digging in the outer pocket of one of the laptop cases, producing at length a flashlight that he trained upon the rain soaked monument. The wavering yellow light destroyed the silhouette, suddenly giving the monument weight and depth, texture and color. Marble, brass. The figure of a soldier with his rifle at his side leaning wearily atop a columnar pedestal.

"On April 30, 1863, Confederate Brig. Gen. Nathan Bedford Forrest's brigade caught up with Union Col. Abel D. Streight's provisional brigade," Rodney read off the placard at the base. "They attacked the rearguard at Day's Gap on Sand Mountain, but the Federals repulsed this attack and continued --"

"All right, all right," Daniel said.

"Not a whole lot here about Exu and his supernatural penis," Rodney pointed out mercilessly.