Leaving Level Five

by L. S. O'Dea

  “Where are they?” It wasn’t the Rattus lab.

  “In the Phasmatodea lab,” said Conguise.

  “The Brush-Men,” he whispered.

  Conguise snorted. “Don’t speak like a Guard.”

  “Sorry,” he managed to mumble. At this moment, he didn’t care about the professor’s opinion. All he cared about was watching the scene that was playing out in front of him. He’d heard about the Brush-Men—insect and Servant hybrids, prolific and deadly. He couldn’t wait to see them.

  Rufus moved a step or two away from Scottsmoor. The scientist should run. He’d never make it to the door. Almightys were slow and weak but he may cause the Rattus-Men to accidentally kill him. Apparently, even smart Almightys were stupid because instead Scottsmoor stood in place trembling and crying as snot ran down his face. He was probably begging for mercy. He, above all others, should know that there was no mercy on Level Five.

  Rufus tapped the glass, staring over Scottsmoor’s shoulder. The camera shifted again, taking in more of the room. The Brush-Men were congregated at the window and they were as gruesome as they were fascinating. Gruder almost jumped from the chair and fled the room when one of them opened its mouth. He hadn’t realized that they even had a mouth in that stick-like face, let alone all the teeth.

  The Brush-Men parted and two very large ones made their way to the front.

  “Why are those two so much bigger than the others?” he asked.

  “They’re the original hosts.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “And the rest?”

  “Their offspring and their offspring’s offspring.”

  “Holy Araldo.” There were a lot of them. If they got loose, everything was dead—Almightys, Guards, Servants, everything.

  Rufus pointed at the door and then at Stink.

  “Notice that the Rattus’ mouth is moving. He is speaking to them.” Conguise leaned closer to the monitor.

  The Guard’s mouth was also moving but Gruder didn’t have to hear the words to know he was begging for his life. Stink was kneeling, his face wet with tears and his hands clasped on the leg of the desk as if hoping to bolt himself in place.

  The large Brush-Men stepped away from the window and the others followed their lead.

  “The Brush...Phasmatodeas are talking to each other.” Squinting, he could see the small cracks in their faces moving a little. The Rattus creatures often squeaked at each other in communication.

  “They’re obeying,” corrected Conguise. “Something that none of my scientists can get them to do.”

  He’d seen it before with the Rattus specimens, especially with the two males. The smaller one often seemed to follow the larger one’s commands, but he’d never imagined that creatures such as the Brush-Men—insects mostly—would obey anything. It was good to know since this appeared to be a priority for the professor. This video presented numerous opportunities for study and advancement.

  Ruffus turned toward the other male, clacking his large front teeth together. Lee nodded, grabbing Stink by the neck and pulling. The Guard clung to the desk but the Rattus kept walking toward the enclosure.

  “The desk isn’t moving.” And Stink wasn’t letting go. Gruder’s pulse pounded—excited and scared. He’d never seen a head torn completely off a body.

  “It’s bolted to the floor in that lab.”

  “Why?” He wasn’t sure he cared, as the Guard’s neck seemed to stretch.

  “Previous incident.” Conguise said it like it was nothing more than a spilled drink, but on Level Five, it was blood that was spilled during incidents.

  Lee yanked again and Stink’s mouth opened wide on a silent scream before his hands dropped away from the desk. Fool. That would’ve been fast—Gruder’s fingers skimmed across his throat—but not painless.

  Lee hopped, dragging the struggling Guard behind him as if he were a pillow stuffed with feathers. When the two were close to the enclosure, Rufus pressed the button and the door began to open.

  Gruder couldn’t help it, he glanced behind him. If those things had gotten out...

  “We’re safe.” Conguise patted his shoulder. “Watch the video.”

  Stink’s body almost snapped in two as he tried to free himself from the Rattus-Man. Lee’s hand grabbed the Guard’s neck and shoved Stink’s face against the opening of the door.

  Gruder’s heart stopped as the Brush-Men began to move forward. The largest one’s arms went out to its sides and the others stilled, their bodies vibrating with the desire to attack.

  Araldo, he wished there was sound because he really wanted to hear them communicate.

  The door slid farther open and Lee shoved Stink’s head inside. The Guard’s mouth was open and Gruder suddenly didn’t want the sound. He didn’t even want to imagine that scream of terror.

  When the opening was large enough, Lee pushed Stink inside the enclosure. The Guard fell to his knees but jumped to his feet as if on a trampoline. He spun around, racing for the door, but it was closing. Stink clawed at the opening, trying to squeeze his body through to safety.

  Still the Brush-Men didn’t move.

  The door closed. Stink slammed his fist against it several times, but the Brush-Men must’ve made a sound or something because the Guard stopped, turning slowly.

  The largest Brush-Man dropped his arms, his vibrant eyes gleaming and the others swarmed forward, piling onto Stink like ants on a cookie.

  They covered the Guard but almost immediately some darted away, bloody hunks in their claws as they hid with their prize and fed. Gruder couldn’t even blink. His stomach churned and bile rose in his throat as the Brush-Men feasted, their brown faces turning red.

  The camera shifted. It was time for the next show. The Rattus-Men were both focused on Scottsmoor who was sitting on the floor surrounded by urine. His lips moved as he held his knees to his chest, rocking back and forth.

  Rufus pointed and Lee grabbed the rope that was lying near the ladder. He tied one of Scottsmoor’s hands to the leg of the desk.

  Scottsmoor’s mouth raced as more tears streamed down his face. Gruder didn’t need to hear to know he was begging and bargaining.

  Rufus knelt, grabbing one of Scottsmoor’s feet and straightening his leg. Lee grabbed the other. They both tore off the Almighty’s shoes and socks.

  “What are they doing?”

  Conguise didn’t answer, but his breathing was heavy by Gruder’s ear.

  The Rattus-Men looked at each other and bared their teeth. It was a terrifying sight—large, protruding front and bottom teeth surrounded by long sharp canines and pointed molars. Gruder couldn’t stop himself from leaning away from the computer. That image was going to cost him sleep tonight—perhaps, forever.

  The two Rattus males slowly lowered their heads. Scottsmoor bucked and tried to kick but he couldn’t free himself from their grip. In unison they bit, each tearing off one toe. They held it in their mouths, as if to show him, and then swallowed before lowering their heads again for the next bite and the next.

  Blood covered the floor as the Rattus-Men continued to feed on Scottsmoor. The Almighty’s body shook and twitched and finally fell still as they started chewing on his feet.

  “Is he dead?” The words slipped past Gruder’s lips. Scottsmoor had lost a lot of blood, but not enough to kill him, unless his heart had stopped. Conguise didn’t answer, so Gruder continued to watch.

  Rufus stood, licking the blood from his lips. He hopped to the sink and filled a beaker with water. He scurried back to Scottsmoor and threw it in the Almighty’s face.

  Scottsmoor sputtered and coughed, a dazed expression in his eyes. Rufus bared his teeth as he bent. Scottsmoor’s eyes sharpened, his mouth opening on what Gruder could only imagine was an unholy scream. His body bucked, trying to break the restraint. Rufus lifted Scottsmoor’s free hand. The Almighty tucked his fingers into his palm, shaking his head and yelling what appeared to be “no.” Lee dove face first onto his foot, chewing and tearing the flesh.
Scottsmoor’s fist loosened and Rufus chomped down on a finger and then another.

  Blood flew everywhere as the Rattus-Men feasted, taking Scottsmoor apart bite by bite. When he’d pass out, one of the Rattus-Men would wake him, with water, a slap, or even a kick. Gruder kept looking at the timer on the screen. It felt like hours, but only minutes had passed before Scottsmoor didn’t wake. Gruder relaxed against his chair. It was finally over.

  “Watch.” Conguise’s hand squeezed his shoulder, as Lee and Rufus dove into Scottsmoor’s abdomen, their long incisors making short work of his innards. At this point, they weren’t even eating him, just tearing him to ribbons.

  The screen went black.

  Conguise leaned over his shoulder and turned off the video.

  “Wh-what happened?” He stared at the computer.

  “Someone shut off the cameras.” Conguise walked back to his chair and sat. “Hacked the entire system. Deleted all the videos.”

  “Wh-who?”

  “Not sure. Who do you think could’ve done it?”

  “Not me.” He leaned away from the desk. “I had no reason—”

  “I never suspected you.” Derision dripped from the professor’s words.

  “Oh, okay. Sorry.”

  “Well?” asked Conguise

  He had no idea what to say. No idea what the professor wanted him to say.

  “Tell me your thoughts.”

  “About who deleted—”

  “About everything.” Conguise leaned forward. “What questions do you have? What hypotheses?”

  This was a test. He’d heard that the only way out of this lab was dying. His eyes darted to the now black screen. He wasn’t ready for that, never like that. He took a deep breath. The most important question...“Did they catch them?”

  “Yes and no. The Guards caught the two males—”

  “The females are loose too?” He’d never sleep again.

  Conguise’s lips thinned at the interruption. “I have a team looking for them. They won’t get far.”

  He took another breath, his mind spinning. “Were they, the two males, easy to find?”

  “The Guards were waiting at the door. It seems a Guard warned them.”

  “What Guard? Topper?”

  “No. We can’t find Topper.”

  “Then who?”

  “A Guard named Louis. He was to be your next Rattus host.”

  “I didn’t know Scottsmoor had bought one yet.” He didn’t like being left out of things, especially around here.

  “He didn’t. I chose two Guards from the staff.”

  “Oh.” He hadn’t realized that the professor did that. Sweat ran down his back. That meant anyone could become one of these monsters.

  “Continue. Unless you’re done.”

  Oh, he wasn’t done. He couldn’t afford to be done. “The female Rattus hosts could’ve turned off the cameras.”

  “Hmm.” Conguise’s blue eyes narrowed with thought.

  “The males did work the camera in the Brush...Phasmatodea lab.”

  “I suppose it’s possible.”

  “They’ve proven to be smart and strong.”

  “Yes.”

  “And brutal.” They’d been single-minded in their torture. He’d never heard of anything like it in the animal world.

  “They were bred to be brutal and efficient.”

  The professor didn’t want the obvious; he wanted the genius. The scientist. “The enclosure. We use cages and manual locks in the Rattus lab. They were different in the Phasmatodea room.”

  “Different cages use different locks,” said Conguise.

  “How did they know how to open the cage? How did they know to use the button? Did they work here before...before they were modified?”

  “No, they came from the shelter. How do you think they knew how to work the locks?”

  His mind went over that scene again. “They communicated with the Brush...Phasmatodeas when offering the Guard. Perhaps, they communicated more than we thought.”

  “Perhaps.”

  He was pretty sure that’s what the professor thought too and that was good. Everyone liked to have his ideas validated, but he needed to show more—needed to guide the professor to the next step. “They were more than brutal and intelligent.”

  Conguise’s icy blue eyes were locked on his face.

  “They didn’t want Scottsmoor dead. I mean, they did, but they wanted him to suffer first.”

  “That was apparent.”

  “I know.” By the narrowing of the professor’s lips, he was treading on dangerous ground. “They didn’t do that to the Guard. No, they singled out Scottsmoor. I think they remember. I think they understood that he was the one who’d changed them. Turned them into monsters.” He leaned back in his seat.

  “Perhaps.” Some of the coolness had left the professor’s gaze.

  “You’ve said that no one can get any of them to obey.”

  “McBrid was the closest.”

  “I should talk to him.” He needed to pry some information from the other Almighty’s head. Since they were both mephies they had a lot in common and a lot to keep hidden.

  “You can’t. There was an accident at his home. He’s dead.”

  “What kind of accident?” The hair on his arms stood. His instincts were exceptional and there had been no accident. Whatever had happened to McBrid had been intentional.

  “An explosion. He left a fire burning. Chemicals and heat...a shame.” Conguise didn’t even try to hide his smug expression.

  “Oh. Sorry to hear that.” He wasn’t sure what else to say as his heart thudded a warning in his chest.

  “Yes. Carelessness often leads to tragedy.”

  “Of course.” He needed to change the topic because he wouldn’t put it past Conguise to have him killed if the professor thought in his moment of glory he’d revealed too much. “Are all his notes here?”

  “Where else would they be? You’re not allowed to take anything home from Level Five.”

  “Right. Sorry.” And yet, from what he’d heard, every scientist took work home daily. “I meant to ask if I could see them.” Going through the other scientist’s notes would help, but McBrid hadn’t succeeded. He had to show that his thought process was different enough to get results. “The Phasmatodeas were once Servants and the Rattus Norvegicus were once Guards, right?”

  “That’s common knowledge.” The professor was bored again.

  “It could explain the brutality.” He was going to show Conguise that he was worth keeping. “The lower classes are more violent.” He should know. He was part Servant and as gruesome as the killing of Stink and Scottsmoor had been, it’d called to him. It’d made him want to join the Rattus males in the kill. Almightys didn’t have this desire.

  “They were designed to be brutal. Kind weapons are useless.”

  “Of course, but you’re infecting them with species who only know violence. Only the strongest eat, survive and mate. Perhaps, you should use a less brutal host.”

  “I’m not using Grunts or Producers. They aren’t intelligent enough.”

  “What about Almightys?” He leaned forward and almost grinned as Conguise at first opened his mouth to object and then closed it without saying a word. “They’re smart enough. They’re loyal. They should be easier to control. The foreign DNA will provide the necessary brutality.”

  Conguise’s blue eyes sharpened. “That’s a very interesting hypothesis.”

  Thanks for reading Leaving Level Five. I hope you enjoyed the story.

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  Also, check out my other books. An excerpt from the FREE eBook, Lake of Sins: Escape is next followed by an excerpt from A Demon’s Gift and then the Characters section.

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  FREE Lake of Sin: Escape (excerpt)

  CHAPTER 1

  Trinity trudged through the forest. The sun’s strong rays blinded her as she walked and her feet ached. Her stomach rumbled. She’d eat when she stopped for the night. Hunger was nothing new to her. She shifted the backpack on her shoulders and trudged around a bend. A flash caught her eye. Something silver glistened on the rocks, sparkling like ice crystals in the sunshine. It was partially submerged in the water. She cautiously approached, ready to run into the forest at any sign of danger. It was similar to her in size and shape except instead of feet and hands this creature had flippers and a long, thick tail. Its skin was silver-gray and scaly. It was hairless and lying on its side with its head in the water. There were four slits along its rib cage.

  “Hey, are you all right?” She took a couple of steps back in case it was just sleeping.

  The creature didn’t move. She should just go. She didn’t have time for this, but she’d never seen anything like it. She crept closer, her heart beating faster with each step. Her feet were in the water now. She was only a few feet away. She nudged it with the bottom of the stick and jumped back. It remained still, lifeless. She moved farther into the water and poked it again, harder this time. There was still no reaction. It was dead. Poor, ugly thing. What had happened to it? Had it drowned? It kind of looked like a fish. Maybe, it suffocated, stuck on the rocks and unable to get to the water. That would be sad, being that close to what it needed to live and unable to reach it.

  She bent and peered at its face. It certainly was gross. Its large black eyes stared straight ahead. She jerked back. She could have sworn its eyes had adjusted but there were no whites just pupil so it was hard to tell. She stood still for several minutes but the creature didn’t move. It must have been her imagination; it was certainly running wild today. She leaned in closer. Its mouth was wide open and filled with rows of long, sharp teeth. It smelled briny like the lake. Its lips quivered slightly and she jerked upright, stumbling backward and falling right next to it, within reach of its long arms.