by Barry Smith
Just outside of the City Hall, Captain McCormack, along with some other police officers, have just arrived to the scene. Exiting their haphazardly parked vehicles,
“Shit we probably missed most of the meeting” shares McCormack before he hears screaming inside. “What was that? Let’s go men!”
They all rush headlong into the pitch-black building. They move in the direction of the screams, hurrying to save those that they could. The building’s old emergency lights are trying to activate, but instead, the aged system flickers on and off, the lights creating a nightmarish tunnel along the long corridor, down to the Assembly Room, where the screams are coming from.
When McCormack gets close to the Assembly Room, its doors burst open, and people come running out. Leading the way is Munson, Harold Jr, Kraven, and Covay.
Shouting to McCormack, Munson says, “Come on, we need to get the fuck out of here!”
McCormack and the officers have turned and are running, along with the others, back down the long corridor, towards the entrance. They soon hear, behind them, a metal cling, followed by a spark and then, a light goes out. One at a time, lights are being taken out.
Reaching the middle of the hallway, they all stop, seeing that the lights ahead of them are being taken out one-by-one as well, leaving nothing but darkness approaching.
“We should split up,” suggests Captain McCormack. “You two!” he says, while pointing at two officers, “Take Kraven, Covay and half of the group down the east corridor. Muson and I will take Harold Jr., and the other half of the group down the west corridor. Go! Go! Go!”
The group splits into two and went in the directions McCormack has ordered. As darkness reaches the intersection, it starts to bleed east and west. Panic soon sets in, and it becomes every man for themselves. The darkness immediately catches up, swallowing its victims one at a time; Screams, Gasps and Grunts are instantly silenced in black.
Captain McCormack reaches for his radio and barks for backup, as he and the remainder of his party escapes down the hall.
“This way!” shouts Munson, as he leads the group down a stairwell to a dark basement. The group follows Munson, corner after corner, through the labyrinth of a basement, with their path lit only by a flashlight, and the occasional caution lights that are affixed to the walls.
As they turn around one of such corners, they physically run into the other group from the East Corridor, both scaring each other momentarily, with flashlights shining on each other’s faces.
Noting their numbers have dwindled greatly, Munson asks the leading officer,
“Where is the rest of your party?”
Shaking his head sadly, he replies, “A lot of them didn’t make it.”
The reunion is then faced with returning sounds of metal clings that are rapidly approaching from the direction Munson has just come. Several sharp objects whistle by, as they slice through the air and kill off a few more people in the party.
“Quick! This way!” Munson urges, as he walks further down, and places his hand on recognition scanner mounted on the wall.
“Access Granted,” the computer responds.
The wall then opens up to a Panic Room with steel walls.
“Get in!” shouts McCormack, as he and Munson wave the survivors in. When that has been done, they themselves get in, and with the click of a button, the wall slid shut.
Munson eyes surveys the room, noting the badly shaken survivors who sit mostly whimpering in fear, even more so, Harold Jr., who sobs uncontrollably, as he mourns his father’s death. Munson maneuvers his way through the survivors and sits down beside Harold Jr., and puts his arms around him.
***
At Quist nightclub, Sage is introducing the final performance, amid anticipatory cheers from the audience:
“Alright everyone, this is the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Debuting a track off his new album, featuring our girl Phoenix, performing ‘Fuckin’ You’, Give it up for Dax Brayton!”
Dax takes the center stage dressed in burgundy silk pajamas; his pajama shirt is unbuttoned and is blown back by artificial gusts of wind, exposing his flawlessly chiseled abs and chest.
During his song, a beam of light shines on a couple of dancers’ stage right exhibiting the art of teasing. Another beam shines on the art of seduction, and a third on submission.
As the audience is visually stimulated by the dance, Phoenix comes on stage rapping aggressively, with an erotic rap that makes the audience visualize sexual deeds they never thought of before. Her lyrics, rhyme and syncopations are pure perfections. The audience in awe, and when the song finally ended, all rose to their feet in a standing ovation, with some even climbing on to their chairs.
The cheers go on for a frame that seems like an eternity, leaving Dax grinning and confident that his new song is a hit.
After the show has been brought to its end, an elderly gentleman sits at a bar, and calls on the bartender. Beckoning on her to come closer, he whispers into her ear,
“I would like to ‘play on the playground’.”
Nodding in understanding and acknowledgment of his request, the lady left and then, returns with one of the security guards.
“This way, Sir,” speaks the guard, while helping him to his feet, “The playground awaits you.”
The guard escorts him past the fantasy rooms to closet , whose door he opens before ushering the man inside. They continue down a flight of stairs to a room where the air is cold, and a heavy set nurse awaits them.
“Thank you. You can leave now,” she says to the guard, dismissing him before turning her attention to the other man.
“Evening, Sir, I am Deborah. We received your request to ‘play on the playground’. If you would be so kind, please follow me.”
She leads him a little further, through several rooms, before coming to a halt, before a display window with a black curtain on the other side.
“Please sign here, Sir,” she asks, as she hands him a pen and a register.
The man complies and when he has finished, she says,
“Thank you Mr. Lockwood.”
A button is pressed, and the black curtain parts to reveal several tall glowing glass containers, and each contains a full-grown human fetus submerged in clear liquid.
“Take your pick,” smiles Deborah, “They are all beautiful.”
The old man, confused and unsure, stutters,
“Yes, they are all beautiful; beautiful to the point that I don’t even know where to begin.”
At the top of the containers are mechanical pump systems that are connected to tubes, that coil down into the liquid and connect to the fetus’ belly button, in the same way a mother’s umbilical cord does.
The nurse, opening a door, asks him to take his time and examine the specimen. The old man follows her in, so he could get a closer look.
While he peers into the containers, the nurse doles out the terms of the transaction: “Once your choice has been made, one hundred thousand dollars must be transferred into our account via an offshore platform. Do you have any questions?”
“I do,” replies the old man, “Where do your fetus come from?”
The nurse replies, “We obtain them from poor Trouble Town girls looking to get an abortion. We do all the proper screening and testing to ensure our fetuses are healthy and provide the best quality. I’ll go draw up your paperwork now, but we have one other gentleman ahead of you. If you would like, you can watch his procedure which should be commencing in a few minutes.”
She leads him out the room, and then, takes him down a corridor to another room with a display window. On the other side of the glass wall, is one fetus container, standing next to a glowing eight feet tall glass cylinder that also houses the same colorless liquid from earlier.
An older man in his 80’s, submerges himself in the eight feet container, completely naked with all his wrinkles and bodily imperfections on display. He has thin tubes connected intravenously, to multiple parts of his body.
A whir begins somewhere in the room, sending pulses through the clear liquid. The man begins to jerk violently from the tremors, and his face grimaces in pain. The intensity of the whirring increases with the passing of each second, along with the pulses it generates; the liquid sound in each container begins to bubble fervently, with the pulses escalating until they reach a point where there is not even a millisecond’s interval between them, and they fuse into one sharp continuous shriek.
The bubbles die down as the fetus begins to wilt away, leaving only the skeleton. The old man, in the other glass tube, then begins to transform; the folds of his skin tightens just as his muscles become more defined, and the hair on his head grows fuller and darker. The shriek slows down, then eases back into the whirring, before completely ceasing.
The old man is now thirty years younger.
“Incredible, isn’t it, Mr. Lockwood?” Asks Deborah.
“To say the least,” responds the man.
“Another ingenious invention of the Bossman… but I digress. I have your paperwork here,” continues the nurse, “I just need you to sign on each page in the space provided. And while you’re doing that, I’ll…”
“Don’t take my baby!” screams a terrified voice from one of the rooms further down the hall, cutting the nurse off.
“What’s going on in there?” asks the silver-haired man with curious eyes.
“Sir, I am going to ask you to leave now,” replies the nurse, completely ignoring his question.
“I’m afraid I cannot do that.” replies the old man.
“Then you leave me no choice but to call security.”
In one swoop, elderly Mr. Lockwood reaches for his jugular, and rips off his rubber face and gray hair, revealing none other than Bryce.
“Shit!” curses the nurse, as she dives for the house phone. She picks up the receiver, but before she could punch in a single number, Bryce shoots her in the head with his silenced pistol. After replacing the receiver, Bryce drags her dead body out of the way, before heading in the direction the scream had come from.
On finding the room from which the scream came, Bryce breaks the door in, and finds Doctor Whitfield fastening a strap to the ankle of a seemingly nonconsenting pregnant patient, who struggled against him.
Turning to face the intruder, Whitfield immediately begins to shout for security, but is stopped by a bullet in his throat. Stepping over Whitfield as he lay on the floor, dying and clenching his bleeding neck, Bryce reaches for the chair, and unties the leather straps that held her fast.
“Thank you,” she says, visibly shaking, “Thank you, but they are going to catch us, there is no way out of here!”
“Just worry about you and your baby,” replies Bryce, “I will get us out of here.”
Taking the lady he has rescued by the hand, Bryce makes a beeline through the nursery and display rooms, and into an office. He picks up a phone, and dials a number, but as he did so, his eyes catch sight of a document on the table, whose title reads:
‘The Playground Demand versus the Fetus Inventory’.
When he’s put through, he speaks into the phone,
“Yes, connect me with Captain Lloyd McCormack…” While waiting, he continues reading the document. “Captain, it’s Bryce Delles. I’m not sure of the police station attack or all of the missing people, but I found out that Quist is kidnapping pregnant women, abducting their fetuses for a black-market-fountain-of-youth to sell to rich folks. I just rescued one of the victims, but it may be complicated getting out of here because…”
A heavy thud interrupts his words, as the door to his right comes crashing to the ground, to reveal a menacing silhouette.
***
“I have not heard anything for about an hour now,” observes McCormack, as he presses his ear against the wall.
“They may have gone,” says Munson, “Or they may be biding their time, lying in wait for us.”
“But we can’t stay here forever, at some point, we would have to…”
The walls hiss as they raise to let light in to the dark room, completely blinding everyone. Shadows of black, clutching guns, and pointing in every direction, they rush in. Everyone in the room gasps.
“Captain! Sorry we are late, we could not pin point your exact location.”
It is the reinforcement unit McCormack had requested for, while they were fleeing the Assembly Room.
“Well, better late than never,” replies McCormack.
Then, looking round the room at the handful of survivors, one of the officers says:
“I don’t know what happened here, but the place looks like a war zone, Cap.” Then raising a metallic sharp-shaped object, he continues, “We found these things everywhere, stuck in the bodies of all the victims.”
Inspecting the object closer, McCormack responds,
“I’ve heard of only one person who uses this type of MO, but she couldn’t have done this alone.” Then turning to the officers, he orders, “Ok, I need some of you to stay here; the rest of you come with me!”
And then, he rushes out the room, swearing and cursing as he leaves.
Chapter 6
“I am bored as fuck!” shouts a boy at no one in particular, as he walks in the company of his four friends, who are all returning from Shrimp King’s Wharf.
“Anyone have any money?” replies another, “I spent mine on the last can of spray paint we used to tag.”
“I have money, but I’m saving up for that video game.” replies a third
“Maybe we could go shoot some hoops,” suggests a fourth, “I know a court that might be free at this time of the day.”
And so they set out, heading for the court, but the route chosen entails them passing in front of the Disciples of Zion’s Grand Temple. As they neared the steps that lead up to the building, they see a Disciple School Girl at the bottom, handing out leaflets of the Disciple scripture, and standing next to a booth where a nun sat selling the Sapphire of Life necklaces.
Calling out to the boys who have drawn near, the girl asks,
“Evening, gentlemen. Have you accepted the Lord Savior into your lives?”
One of them wittingly replies, “No, but I would like to accept you in my life.”
Waving him aside, the girl dismissively smiles before continuing,
“Seriously guys, if you have some time, let me read you a few passages from our book and show you that there is an all-mighty power that watches over, and guides us all. And it is only those who believe in him that will inherit the Kingdom of Zion in the afterlife.”
After exchanging glances with each other, as if in consultation, one of them finally speaks up,
“Well, it is not like we have anything better to do, so sure, go for it.”
The girl replies, “Magnificent, follow me.”
“I thought we were doing this out here?” objects one.
“Just come along,” cajoles the girl, “You’ll feel the full experience inside the church.”
As she leads them inside, the nun calls after her,
“I’m going to move everything inside since it’s almost closing time, so there is no need for you to hurry, or even come back out.”
“Okay ma’am, thank you,” replies the girl, as she climbs up the stairs, heave the heavy doors to the temple open, ushers the boys in, and leads them to a room for their enlightenment.
~
Several miles away, at the Guilty Pleasure Showroom, dancers are performing a ‘Naughty School Girl’ number, with a female dancer in a plaid, very short skirt and knee-high stockings, surrounded by five male dancers, dancing suggestively in the new water effects recently added to the show.
***
Ryan Swett arrives in the parking lot of the Grand Temple, hoping to have a word with Father Covay. He went up the steps to the temple’s doors. Once inside, he finds the church is almost desolate, with a few nuns that are closing up their stands for the day before leaving.
“Good evening, ma’am,” greets Ryan,
as he walks up to the nun, who has picked up her bag and is heading out.
“Evening, Sir,” she replies, “How may I help you?”
“I’m sorry to bother you seeing as you have closed and all, but I must ask; is Father Covay around, and can I see him?”
“I’m afraid he’s not available,” responds the nun, “He is not currently in the temple but at the City Hall with First Apostle Kraven; they will not be back until much later for Father Kraven’s speech at the Great Rally. It is unlikely, but if the Lord Savior wills it, you may speak with him then.”
Nodding his head and stroking his head, Ryan replies, “I see.”
“But Father Gallegher is here now,” continues the nun, “He’s performing a baptism at the moment, but he should be done soon. I’m sure he would be more than happy to sit with you.”
“Thank you but I think I’ll wait,” responds Ryan, “I need to talk to Father Covay specifically.”
Then casting his gaze around, Ryan says, “By the way, this is a beautiful church you have. Do you mind if I look around?”
Glancing at his badge and gun, the nun replies, “Of course not, Officer, but please check your gun in with Sister Bernice; we do not allow guns in the house of the Lord Savior.”
“I will do just that.”
“If that will be all, I must hurry home. Do have a good night.”
“Likewise, ma’am,” bides Ryan, as the nun turns and exits through a door.
After checking in his gun, Ryan walks down the wide center aisle, taking in the beautiful architecture; the stained glass windows, the carefully wrought ceilings, and the frescoes that had been painted on them. On reaching the middle of the aisle, he strangely notices a side door open, on the right side of the temple near the altar. Out of it, walks a Disciple School Girl, along with five other boys. Ryan notes that one of the boys is zipping up his trousers while another had, and completely, forgotten to zip his up.