The Fable of Marcus

by Sajjad Tameez

  Chapter 3

  The Dark-Tec Towers

  Much of England was now deserted plots of land, empty buildings and ferociously

  over-grown grass. Some even referred to areas over the hills as 'the forest.' Massive

  road blocks, made out of strong metals, restricted the view into the forest but most

  small towns that had a surviving population, had formed watch towers with

  telescopes, from where they saw some of the most disturbing images that occurred on

  the outside. Beyond the surviving towns, the indestructible metal barriers and the dark

  and mysterious forest, there dwelled something much more frightening. Though no

  living person had ever laid eyes on it, let alone set foot in it, everyone, young or old,

  man, woman or child, knew of it: the Dark-Tec Towers.

  The extensive walkway was long and hung like a solid and almost colourless bridge,

  high above a large river. The building was like a castle made from mat-black coloured

  bricks. It had the strange contrast of a New York sky scrapper and the dwelling place

  of Dracula. It was huge, its four solid towers stood so tall that they wore clouds like

  fluffy grey beards and it would take an entire day to walk the circumference of the

  building. There were no windows or if there were, then they were cleverly tinted and

  strictly adhered to the exact uniform as the rest of the building.

  The building did not appear to have an entrance nor did it seem to be guarded, but it

  had so many eyes that not even a fly could buzz close without being detected. And

  among all the strangeness and mystery, there lurked a feeling of emptiness, as if

  nothing living existed in or around it. This feeling may have risen from the extreme

  absence of sound; no sounds of people, no animals shuffling, no birds singing,

  nothing except the gentle but haunting whistles of the wind blowing.

  'Master, there has been word...' a short, plump man whispered nervously.

  'Silence Fredrick!' A loud and powerful voice echoed through the huge dark room.

  The dull light from the lamp on the wall, reflected humorously off Fredrick's bald

  head as he stood nervously and faced the back of a huge black arm chair. He remained

  quiet and just stared at the pale and wrinkly hand on the arm of the chair. The hand

  was thin and the fingers looked like shrivelled worms but what appeared to be striking

  for anyone's eyes, was the large and very strange ring that was wrapped tightly around

  his index finger. It was a thick metal with a dark stone; the stone did not shine nor did

  it look of any value but it suited the pale hand perfectly.

  Suddenly, a finger on the hand rose and the chilling voice spoke again, but more

  calmly, 'speak Fredrick, but make sure your tongue does not waffle, for if it does, I

  will surely cut it off and force you to eat it!' His voice raised high at the end of his

  sentence, making him sound incredibly menacing, 'are we clear?' He asked calmly.

  'Yes... perfectly.' Fredrick swallowed.

  'Well speak!' The terrifying voice belted.

  'The boy, master, the boy is alive!' There was a prolonged silence and absolutely no

  movement from the hand.

  'Do you speak with certainty or are we having another episode of fairy tales? Many

  lives were lost the last time you opened your mouth, many lives bar yours! Make no

  mistake; if you are wrong, then you will be the first to go!' Fredrick swallowed

  repetitively, desperately trying to stop his throat from drying further. He remained

  silent and began actually imagining his tongue being torn out of mouth and then being

  forced to eat it, and stupidly, began wondering whether he would try to chew it or

  would he just swallow it, but then snapped out of it and thought of the devastating

  consequences if he were to say nothing and his master were to find out that he knew

  but did not say. A more frightened expression overtook his face as he prepared

  himself to speak.

  'Master, the boy is alive! The eyes saw him; he is as described and wears no wrist

  lock.' He quickly hid his face behind his arm, waiting for a reaction, but there was just

  silence and deep breathing from behind the chair.

  'Maxwell!' The hideous voice shouted. And after a few brief moments there was a

  fascinating little spark of light that twinkled for a few milliseconds, like an old

  television turning on. It then grew dramatically and looked like a grid with fluorescent

  lights beaming out of it. The grid then swiftly transformed into a shape of a tall and

  well-built man and eventually looked and behaved exactly like a normal human being,

  with the exception of the odd flicker.

  'You called?' It spoke in a gentle but creepy voice.

  'Is it true?' The man behind chair questioned, calmly.

  'Are we referring to the boy?' It asked.

  'No! You blithering idiot! I am talking about the other complete disaster that has

  struck beneath our noses!' The man behind the chair shouted, making Fredrick have

  the desperate urge to dash to the loo, but he dared not move.

  'What other disaster?' It asked, confused.

  'You really are a genius aren't you!'

  'I sense a tone of sarcasm in your voice, master?'

  'Yes! I am talking about the boy! The boy – the wretched little boy!' He yelled so loud

  that he made himself cough.

  'There has been much speculation and stories of this boy... and there have been some

  sightings of a boy that walks with no wrist-lock, but it is highly improbable that this

  boy is the boy from the fictional stories that are spread around the towns.'

  'So how is it that after so many years and against all odds, there is a boy, who, as you

  say, walks with no wrist-lock?'

  'I am not sure exactly...'

  'Maxwell, you normally have an answer for everything – you are becoming somewhat

  disappointing!'

  The man behind the chair sighed loudly. After a few moments Fredrick was glowing,

  his cheeks had become like roses, his eyes filled up so much so that he could no

  longer see clearly and could not prevent the sounds of unease anymore. He tried

  biting his tongue, breathing deeply and crossing his legs but nothing was working, if

  he did not make to a toilet in the next minute or so, he would surely wet himself.

  'Master, please can I be excused for a few moments?'

  'Go now! Before you embarrass yourself – you are weak just like your bladder!'

  Fredrick ran out of the room; he did not look back, utter any words or even take a

  breath until he reached his destination.

  'As for you Maxwell, your negligence has disappointed me, to say the least.' The man

  spoke slowly but knew deep down that he could not scare or intimidate Maxwell.

  ‘I want the boy found and killed. Send out all the armies and search every town, I

  want every place that he could be hiding torn apart, kill as many as needed to send the

  message. I want pressure put on so hard that the boy comes to me!’

  ‘This is not a clever strategy, and is prone to fail.’ Maxwell responded instantly.

  ‘I did not ask for your opinion! But as you are so eager to speak, please elaborate.’

  Maxwell pointed into the air in front of him and formed a large screen from nothing.

  The screen was very similar to the grid colour that he himself was before he took the

  form of a human. The screen had detailed maps and all the areas
were in different

  shades, some red, some blue and some grey. He pointed at some of the areas on the

  map, ‘it seems as if we have not regained control of many of these areas, as earlier

  predictions highlighted and the impact of the “Kiss Dark-Tec Goodbye” virus had

  much more of an impact on our systems than we anticipated. The amount of time the

  humans have had, and looking through their history, they have a tenancy of

  regrouping fast and if united, they have a chance to fight and possibly defeat our

  armies. Also, sending out all armies will leave the towers at risk of attack; its autodefence

  system will not suffice in a full-blown assault. I am afraid that your decision

  is being influenced by emotions of anger and possibly worry.’

  ‘They are just humans, they cannot use computer systems! They are weak, they get ill,

  and they die! You will follow my command. I will not take any chances with this

  boy!’

  ‘Very well.’ Maxwell shrunk rapidly into sparkling particles of silver light and

  eventually into a small dot before completely disappearing.

  The man behind the chair shouted, ‘get me Hex and his team!’

  A computerised voice coming from speaker holes in the ceiling responded, ‘right

  away master.’

  By this time Fredrick came running back into the room, but before he could approach

  the gloomy arm chair, there were crashing footsteps marching from behind him. The

  thumping was so loud that the ground began to vibrate and made little-old Fredrick

  nearly lose his balance. He quickly moved to the side as this chain of big and strong

  looking men and one woman stormed past. They had an extremely menacing look

  about them, they wore black clothing, had strange haircuts and all had some form of

  tattoo or another. One of the men had a peculiar shaped tattoo, almost like barb-wire

  running down the side of his face and he walked a little ahead of the rest. They all had

  outlandish haircuts and the woman was wearing extremely dark make-up, the eye

  shadow was so dark that it was almost impossible to see what her eye colour was. The

  man with the tattoo on his face was noticeably larger than the rest. His shoulders were

  broad and his muscles bulged out of his black clothes. They were all wearing large

  and heavy looking boots that battered the ground as they stamped towards the large

  chair, which was still facing away from everyone.

  ‘Master.’ The husky voice of the man with a tattoo on his face echoed.

  ‘Hex... Hex, I see your have already gathered your... your little platoon of... well

  you’re a cute bunch!’

  ‘What do you need?’ The man, referred to as Hex asked.

  ‘Last time I called you... you guys for a task, you made a real mess of things. Your

  method of brute force and total annihilation is disgraceful. And it seems as though

  you get a real kick out of it.’

  ‘Master, we will try our best to not let that happen again...’ Hex said, sounding

  promising.

  ‘No! This was the sole reason that I called on your... your expertise shall we say.’ He

  said slowly.

  ‘I don’t understand.’

  ‘I need you to behave normally, I want you destroy, I want you to torture and I want

  you... I want you to kill – do whatever it takes to find and the boy! And kill everyone

  around him.’ The man shouted, clenching his fist and occasionally hitting the thick

  black arm of the chair.

  Hex smiled and turned back to his, excited, army of strange-looking soldiers.

  ‘Yes master, consider it done.’ Hex said, confidently.

  ‘I beg you, do not disappoint me, for if you fail, your fate will be as gloomy and

  hideous as your appearance!’

  ‘Understood.’ Hex said and stormed off, biting his anger at the threat.

  The man sat silently, gently tapping the arm of the chair with his creepy fingers.

  ‘What do you want worm?’ The man shouted at Fredrick.

  ‘Nothing master, I thought you might request my assistance further.’ Fredrick

  muttered.

  ‘Well you thought wrong! Now get lost before I call Hex to give you something to

  do!’ A strong shiver rippled through Fredrick at the thought of being anywhere near

  Hex and his friends. He did not hesitate in running back to the lavatory and locking

  himself in.