“Fuck you.”
Set’s entire body goes alert, he twitches toward a sound someplace past the door.
“Shh! We don’t have any more time to discuss this. In thirty seconds someone is going to come through that door and drag you away to be tortured and killed and the only way you’re going to avoid that unwelcome fate is if you let go of these apprehensions and trust me God damn it. Now let go!”
The echo of steps grows louder. They stop just outside the door.
“I won’t do it.”
A key clangs and scratches fighting with the lock.
“You don’t have a choice.”
The lock gives, the door begins its heavy swing.
“Do it now!”
1998 – TIME AND SPACE UNKNOWN
Christian’s body drags less to life, feet first along the cold slab of floor that grooves against his naked body knocking his neck about every thirty six inches. The hall is dimly lit with a thin veil of artificial light that casts down from the ceiling.
His eyes force to open but meet with fog and haze, it hurts to focus.
Two men drag him with slump and ease past set after set of twin door, windowless, which line the hall on either side.
“we.ef. …m,.. i.”
The words don’t come, his head speaks the query ‘Where am I?’ but all that finds way past his lips is a gurgled mess of slur and choke.
“I told you he wasn’t dead.”
The echo of steps grows louder. They stop just outside the door.
“I won’t do it.”
A key clangs and scratches fighting with the lock.
“You don’t have a choice.”
The lock gives, the door begins its heavy swing.
“Do it now!”
1998 – TIME AND SPACE UNKNOWN
Christian’s body drags less to life, feet first along the cold slab of floor that grooves against his naked body knocking his neck about every thirty six inches. The hall is dimly lit with a thin veil of artificial light that casts down from the ceiling.
His eyes force to open but meet with fog and haze, it hurts to focus.
Two men drag him with slump and ease past set after set of twin door, windowless, which line the hall on either side.
“we.ef. …m,.. i.”
The words don’t come, his head speaks the query ‘Where am I?’ but all that finds way past his lips is a gurgled mess of slur and choke.
“I told you he wasn’t dead.”
One of the two figures to his front speak up, head twitches back to Christian in hearing his murmured pleas.
“I never said he was dead. All I said was that if he did die we would all be following him. You know how Set is about his projects.”
Christian only half hears the conversation as it degrades into talk about last week’s popular television and local sporting events, then women.
“This is it then.”
The advance stops abrupt.
The sound of fingers on buttons breaks through the light conversation to Christian’s front, like pin codes at an ATM. Then a sound like steel rubbing swift against itself.
They drag him forward another six feet or so. His legs slam quick to the floor with a thud.
“We just leave him here?”
“You expect him to run away? Locked in a room full of vegetables and zombies with a head full of juice I can’t see him getting into much trouble.”
“Fuck it then, but it’s on you if something happens to him.”
“Whatever, come on.”
The two men exit, the door seals tight behind them. No light.
“ha..e.e…o..” The words still lost in stupor.
“Psst!”
A voice and scuttle about the back of the room. A sound like a child’s bare feet on floor.
Then again in his ear. “Psst. Are you alive?”
Christian pushes himself, turns slow toward the voice, his eyes force open to slits, his vision barely penetrates the darkness.
“So you are alive. It’s a pleasure to meet you then sir.” A young girl, big bright eyes, locks flipping round her cheeks in the darkness, a hospital gown dangles at her knees.
Christian squints hard out at the child, no more than ten or twelve, something not quite right about her. Her eyes, glowing, or…
“My name’s Shane, what’s yours?”
FORWARD AGAIN TO THE PRESENT FUTURE
“Do it now!”
The door swings open, light pours into the cramped confines of the cell illuminating the dark stonework walls, blinding Christian to the sight of no more than a shadow silhouette standing in the doorway.
A flash of speed, the churn runs through him, electric. He leaps forward, teeth and claw, transforms mid thrust.
Christian slices fierce through the tender flesh of the menace before him, vermillion stains the walls, stains his flesh.
The shadow-man drops to the floor like a puppet without strings, limp. The pool of blood spreads out from the deep gashes that run length across the victim’s chest.
Christian, or rather the demon vision of the man half himself, stands hunches in defense a foot back from the fresh kill sprawled out in front of him. Heavy breaths push out from his gaping mouth, eyes wild. The blood lust has him.
“You can relax now.”
“I never said he was dead. All I said was that if he did die we would all be following him. You know how Set is about his projects.”
Christian only half hears the conversation as it degrades into talk about last week’s popular television and local sporting events, then women.
“This is it then.”
The advance stops abrupt.
The sound of fingers on buttons breaks through the light conversation to Christian’s front, like pin codes at an ATM. Then a sound like steel rubbing swift against itself.
They drag him forward another six feet or so. His legs slam quick to the floor with a thud.
“We just leave him here?”
“You expect him to run away? Locked in a room full of vegetables and zombies with a head full of juice I can’t see him getting into much trouble.”
“Fuck it then, but it’s on you if something happens to him.”
“Whatever, come on.”
The two men exit, the door seals tight behind them. No light.
“ha..e.e…o..” The words still lost in stupor.
“Psst!”
A voice and scuttle about the back of the room. A sound like a child’s bare feet on floor.
Then again in his ear. “Psst. Are you alive?”
Christian pushes himself, turns slow toward the voice, his eyes force open to slits, his vision barely penetrates the darkness.
“So you are alive. It’s a pleasure to meet you then sir.” A young girl, big bright eyes, locks flipping round her cheeks in the darkness, a hospital gown dangles at her knees.
Christian squints hard out at the child, no more than ten or twelve, something not quite right about her. Her eyes, glowing, or…
“My name’s Shane, what’s yours?”
FORWARD AGAIN TO THE PRESENT FUTURE
“Do it now!”
The door swings open, light pours into the cramped confines of the cell illuminating the dark stonework walls, blinding Christian to the sight of no more than a shadow silhouette standing in the doorway.
A flash of speed, the churn runs through him, electric. He leaps forward, teeth and claw, transforms mid thrust.
Christian slices fierce through the tender flesh of the menace before him, vermillion stains the walls, stains his flesh.
The shadow-man drops to the floor like a puppet without strings, limp. The pool of blood spreads out from the deep gashes that run length across the victim’s chest.
Christian, or rather the demon vision of the man half himself, stands hunches in defense a foot back from the fresh kill sprawled out in front of him. Heavy breaths push out from his gaping mouth, eyes wild. The blood lust has him.
“You can relax now.”
Set steps out from his shadowed corner, a sly delight shines out from his visage.
He places a hand on Christian’s scaled shoulder, transmits the calm necessary to bring the beast back to ground.
Christian levels his mind, pulls himself together, then falls apart just as quickly. The beast within leaves him, his form shifts back to a more natural state, the eyes are the last to go.
“What…what did I…did I do that?” Looking down at his feet, the warm body of a man he had met just hours prior. Barnaby was what they had called him, friendly fellow.
“You did what had to be done, now we must move before your hand is forced again. Too much blood on the brain makes for a hostile companion, and I need you about your wits if we ever expect to get where we’re going.”
“He wasn’t here to kill us.”
“Don’t be silly. Kill, maim, torture, it’s all the same school, and one I’d rather not attend. Now come.”
He places a hand on Christian’s scaled shoulder, transmits the calm necessary to bring the beast back to ground.
Christian levels his mind, pulls himself together, then falls apart just as quickly. The beast within leaves him, his form shifts back to a more natural state, the eyes are the last to go.
“What…what did I…did I do that?” Looking down at his feet, the warm body of a man he had met just hours prior. Barnaby was what they had called him, friendly fellow.
“You did what had to be done, now we must move before your hand is forced again. Too much blood on the brain makes for a hostile companion, and I need you about your wits if we ever expect to get where we’re going.”
“He wasn’t here to kill us.”
“Don’t be silly. Kill, maim, torture, it’s all the same school, and one I’d rather not attend. Now come.”
Set steps over the bubbling corpse with the delicacy of a ballerina, careful not to smear the man’s blood on the soles of his feet.
“He wasn’t here to kill us.”
“He wasn’t here to kill us.”
Christian stares down at his handiwork, a shiver runs his spine. On the floor next to the man, a tray, sandwiches and shattered glass, milk mixes with blood blending to a pink spiral.
“He was here to feed us.”
“Your stomach can wait moon child now come.”
That name, the word sends splinters through Christian’s mind, piercing his subconscious.
“What did you call me?”
“Your stomach can wait moon child now come.”
That name, the word sends splinters through Christian’s mind, piercing his subconscious.
“What did you call me?”
