“So that’s it, we’re done here?” John asked hopefully.
“Unfortunately I have engagement I cannot break,” Nick answered, having mistakenly assumed disappointment in John’s question. “My men will take you back. Don’t mind that I change my face, when you hold long stick you must shake it.”
John had no idea what he was talking about but was more concerned with getting the hell out of the bizarre disco than making sense of the very definition of nonsense. “I can make things easier and find my own way back,” he risked while edging his way closer to the door.
“Unthinkable. You are special guest from wonderful country.” The big Russian filled his lungs. “Ivan!” he yelled with a thunderous ferocity.
Mere seconds later John watched as Ivan, revealed as the man who had grabbed him at the hotel, stick his head through the door.
“Take this piece of shit back to hotel,” Nick continued.
John froze and looked back at the big man, only to see him smile, wink and tap the side of his head with a meaty finger. “Big stick,” he said softly to ensure Ivan couldn’t hear, and John could only force a half grin before stepping out into the night on wobbly feet.
Ivan was quick to pull his shoulders back and lift his shirt just enough to flash the silver of his gun, but John was beyond caring. He was drunk, physically exhausted and mentally broken, and staggered to the Mercedes as though it were a cab and not a mobster set of wheels with a trunk almost certainly haunted by the ghosts of those who made the mistake of not liking Star Wars.
This time he was left alone on the back seat, though Ivan kept constant surveillance by way of the rear view mirror. John was tempted to raise his middle finger to test the relationship but decided he couldn’t be bothered. Instead he closed his eyes and tried to process all that had happened, only to discover that his ability to think clearly was a battle against all odds. An urge to sleep like he hadn’t felt in so very long enveloped every cell in his body. The rocking of the car became strangely soothing, and when a rough hand slapped the edge of his cheek his eyes shot open and brain struggled to determine where he was.
“We are here,” Ivan snarled with impatience. “You will be contacted soon so best do what is asked. Now get out.”
Not needing to be told twice, John staggered from the car and tumbled towards the hotel lobby as the sound of screeching tires wailed into the night. Several porters were huddled by the doors taking advantage of the quiet hour, and thanks to the look on John’s face they were happy to let him pass without hunting for a tip. By the time he reached the hotel room, he barely managed to kick his shoes off before collapsing onto the sofa, a final thought just making it through before the darkness swept him away. What a night…
Chapter 22
Across the city a strange dark red of dawn was just beginning to bleed into the remnants of the night like a fresh seeping wound but as far as Candice was concerned, burrowed beneath the streets in a government lab awash with stark white light with jaw muscles clenched tight, the dark was endless. The processed air was on the edge of being arctic yet a constant trickle of sweat trailed down between her breasts and along the edges of her navel leaving her itchy and uncomfortable. The whimpering figure backed into the corner wasn’t exactly helping either.
The paperwork said his name was Kennedy, but for Candice it didn’t seem like a good fit. Kennedy was a strong name and suggested confidence and an outspoken manner but this Kennedy was far from it. The documents stated he was just twenty years of age but his hunched shoulders and ashen face begged to differ. He wore cheap glasses that were too big for his head and there were red raw scratch marks along the edges of cheek bones where he had gouged his fingernails. Having pushed his emaciated frame as close to the corner of the room as was physically possible, all that was left to do was peer back at her like a caged animal.
“Tell me again Kennedy,” Candice said calmly, “I need to know.”
Kennedy clenched his teeth and forced his hands into fists. “You keep saying that and I keep telling you the same thing, it was horrible and I don’t know how to put it in words.”
“And, just like I’ve already explained, just do as best you can. That’s all I’m asking.”
“You need me to tell you because you don’t have the guts to look for yourself,” he said as he sighed with resignation. “It was like there were voices all over the place, sort of in my head but not really. I could see but it hurt, like, you know when someone shines a light in your eyes? Like that. And all around me were these long corridors that seemed to go on forever but if I tried to go down one it felt like something was cutting me open from the inside with a knife or something.”
“You’re doing great Kennedy, keep going.”
“I just don’t know how to explain it. Some kind of… monster started coming towards me. I felt it more than I saw it, and the thing got closer and closer and it was like it had control of my thoughts or something. It knew me, it must have, because it showed me things I’ve done before. Bad things, the kind of stuff nobody else knows about. I couldn’t close my eyes because I didn’t have eyes, and I could see this thing but not really. How do you explain to someone what wind looks like?” He raised one of his fists and slammed it against his temple, over and over again. “The fucking devil’s in there and knows you desires. You want to go to hell? Knock yourself out, but I’m fucking done.”
Candice took a cautious step back and tried to assert some authority. “You know what the deal is. You need to go back in one more time or you void and the contract and get shipped straight back to prison.”
“Then do what you gotta do ‘cause there’s no way fucking way I’m putting that thing on again.”
“You and I both know what will happen if they send you back,” she reminded him.
“I don’t care anymore.”
Considering the minor detail that going back to prison could get him killed it was hard to imagine how that would be a better option, though it was ironic that considering what Candice knew was coming, he was pretty much dead no matter which way the bottle spun. And if it was up to her, it probably couldn’t come quick enough. Just having to be in the same room as Kennedy was disgusting enough, and it was taking all the self control she possessed to maintain a semblance of professionalism.
“You said it showed you bad things, maybe things you’ve done,” she said carefully. “Just so we’re on the same table, do you mean the things that landed you in prison?”
“Don’t look at me like that!” Kennedy screamed with fists still pressed against his temples. “You don’t know anything about me.”
“Just calm down…”
Kennedy’s voice lowered a little but his body was still shaking with agitation. “You can stand there like you’re better or something, it don’t matter though. It knows your desires.” He suddenly became still as his bloodshot eyes widened behind the glasses. “And what’s inside your head? Oh you’re pretty and no doubt smart, smile when you have to and make sure you’ve got just enough of your tits on display to keep things going your way, but what dirty little desires, what nasty wants do you hide deep down? You’re no fucking angel, none of us are, so don’t try to stand there as though you don’t have a few filthy fantasies that leave you dripping wet.” His head slowly tilted to the side. “Or maybe it’s pain that turns you on, other people’s pain. Maybe you lie in bed at night thinking about killing someone. It’s all neat and tidy when they’re your little secrets, but the devil knows your desires. Don’t take my word for it, see for yourself.”
Candice felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up as the sweat continued to trace along her navel. Her instinct was to step across the room and claw at the bastard’s face, but she wasn’t stupid. Hell, as far as the department was concerned if he was to die at any time during the procedure nobody would give a shit. They’d scoop him up from the floor and she would be told to grab a coffee and get ready to start a new session. There were ways to make it happen too, but
the truth was her karma ledger was already in a bad way and she didn’t need another burden to weigh upon her already heavy mind.
“You’re right,” she offered with a sharp tongue, “none of us are angels, and that especially includes me. But here’s the thing Kennedy.” She lifted the file and tapped it gently. “Not once have I ever claimed I was an angel, but you stood up in court in front of that jury and all the evidence and tried to say you were some sort of angel, a regular nice guy who never hurt a fly. That makes you a pathetic liar, and the things you did? That makes you a fucking animal.” It was difficult to keep her hands from shaking. “You’re here stinking up this room because you’ve got one chance, one last tiny chance, of heading to an institution for fifteen years where you can get help or back to prison where they’re waiting to do real bad things to you. Make your decision but don’t you dare talk as though you know one damn thing about me.”
Candice threw the file onto the desk and watched as some of the papers fell to the floor. It didn’t matter though, they both knew what he did. Operating behind the dark web might have helped to ensure his activities remained hidden, and maybe he would still be sitting in his basement acting as an invisible broker bringing slithering customers to his small group of clients who hired out underage girls for soul crushing tortures to the highest bidders. Maybe, if it wasn’t for a good old fashioned deadly sin that came into play.
Greed. It was almost always greed, Candice knew, that stirs the sick, disgusting pot so that festering truths can bubble to the surface. Kennedy was making good money from his human brokering, but it wasn’t enough. So what did he do? He targeted one of the customers, a family man who Kennedy knew came from old money, and decided to blackmail him. Only, things didn’t quite work out the way he planned.
The family man had powerful friends with powerful toys, and before Kennedy knew what was happening the Miami Police Department were kicking in his door. Someone had sent them cloud hacked video files and crypto transactions, all leading straight to him. The videos had brought to light the fact that he did more than just broking. He liked to abuse little girls on camera, to perform inhuman acts on tiny, defenceless children that would never again know the meaning of the word innocence.
“So you’re ready to go back in?” she asked, looking for any opportunity to steer the moment down a different direction.
“If you mean back to my cell then yeah, I’m ready.”
“You know that’s not what I meant.”
“No chance in hell I’m putting that thing back on,” Kennedy declared with a defiance that seemed more bluff than anything. “I’ll take a life stretch in a pinch before dancing with the devil for your fucking entertainment.”
“Fine then,” Candice snapped, “I’ll arrange for you to get back to your cell but I can promise you this much, nobody’s going to stick their neck out to stop the inmates from tearing you to pieces.”
He was trying hard not to show it but there was genuine fear in his eyes now, eyes that looked around the room as though expecting a monster to burst in at any second. Candice shook her head with slight disbelief and was about to make the call when he struck. It was fast enough that she had no chance to deflect the fist that smashed into her cheek bone, a sickening blow that sent her tumbling to the ground. She screamed out at the shock of what was happening and frantically pushed down on the panic button dangling from her neck while she desperately slid backwards towards the wall. Kennedy looked down at her and seemed confused, almost sorry.
“I might be going to hell,” he said edging his way to the desk, “but don’t think it means we won’t see each other again. Whether you want to admit it or not you’re heading for the same place, and you and I both know that’s the truth. You wanted the devil, and now there’s no changing your mind.”
His hand shot out. Candice flinched and braced herself for another impact, but instead Kennedy grabbed her pen from the desk and began to hack into his wrist. It was only seconds before the inside meat and bone was glaring beneath the lights as arterial spray sent a red mist through the air to patter down upon the desk and floor.
But he wasn’t done. With face contorted in pain and shock he shifted the blood soaked and slippery pen and tore into the untapped flesh of his other wrist, driving the ballpoint deeper and deeper until a new crimson fountain erupted. Candice cried out as the warm bodily fluid of the grotesque sex offender rained down upon her. Already backed up against the wall, all she could do was wipe the blood from her eyes and lips and prepare to fight for her life.
The once white concrete floor now looked as though it belonged to a slaughterhouse, and again she desperately pressed the panic button around her neck as Kennedy pulled the pen from his mutilated arm and stared down at her, almost as if he hadn’t expected her to still be there. The pen slipped from his fingers and landed in the expanding pool of blood surrounding his shoes.
“Easy there Kennedy,” Candice stammered as she raised a hand in defence.
But Kennedy wasn’t looking at her anymore, staring instead at the ceiling with a confused terror. “They’re calling for me already…”
“Who’s calling?” she whispered quietly.
“The little ones… the demons…”
He dropped to his knees with slumped shoulders, the skin on his face turning an ashen shade of white as the last of his blood supply oozed from the jagged holes in his arms. Candice felt her body jolt when the steel door burst open and two uniformed security officers entered the room with guns drawn.
A split second was all it took to assess the threat that was presented to them and, with trained precision, each fired a single shot. The back of Kennedy’s head opened with steaming fragments of flesh and bone. The piercing crack of the shots sent Candice’s bloodied hands up to her ears and she watched with sickening relief as Kennedy fell forward, his lifeless mouth partially open and soaking in his own mess.
The security officer on the left, an older guy who Candice hadn’t seen before, stepped over the body and offered his hand.
“Sorry to shoot in your direction, but it had to be done. If it makes you feel any better, we never miss.”
“What the hell took you so long?” she spat as she was lifted to her feet.
“We were dealing with another incident upstairs. It never rains, it pours.”
“Yeah?” she said sarcastically while grabbing tissues to wipe herself down. “Well remind me time to bring a fucking umbrella.”
Candice stormed out of the room and back into her office on the other side of the one way mirror. She needed a shower and wanted a drink but knew they’d have to wait, so fell into her chair and steadied her hands while watching Kennedy’s body being dragged along the concrete floor. Emotionally she couldn’t care less that he was no longer a living human being, but on a scientific level she was frustrated that the information about his experience in the device had accompanied him on his trip to hell. A pattern was definitely beginning to emerge, and it wasn’t a good one.
The lock on the steel door clicked open. Rodney marched in with a sense of urgency and was quick to rest his hands on her shoulders. Despite what had just happened she couldn’t help but mentally shake her head at his choice of clothing, considering this time his Hawaiian styled shirt was decorated with cartoon like dolphins and barely clothed pinup girls sipping at coconuts through straws.
“Jesus I’m sorry Candice,” Rodney began, “are you okay?”
“Oh sure, just a paedophile who decided to rip his own arms open before having his brains blown out, nothing out of the ordinary.” Somehow she managed to smile and pointed at his shirt. “That’s real bad Rodney, even for you.”
Rodney chuckled as he found a seat, but was quick to become serious again. “How many times did he go in?”
“Just the once,” she replied while grabbing fresh tissues from the desk to wipe at the remnants of the blood. “Just like the others there was no way he was going in for a second time. Something’s happening in there, some
thing bad enough that dying seems to be a better option.”
“It’s possible, but it’s also possible we’re missing something.”
“Like what?”
“I’m thinking there must be something missing in the coding or in the data transfer from the headgear to the processor, but then we still don’t even know how the damn thing does what it does.”
“It could be our choice of subjects,” Candice stated. “They’ve made sure that everyone who steps into that room is the kind of person nobody will miss, and they all sure as hell had their issues.”
“The thought did cross my mind, but until we can get a better grasp on things it’s probably the best approach.”
“Well they’re seeing something, and definitely feeling something.” Candice sighed with revulsion at the soggy tissue. “If you ask me, early indications seem to suggest they’re somehow being forced to regress into unwanted memories and suppressed emotions, and that seems to trigger a redline breakdown bad enough for something like this.”
She pointed to the window where, on the other side, a hazmat team had begun to mop up the blood that, just minutes prior, had been flowing through a beating heart. What was supposed to be a lab for research into what could be one of the greatest discoveries of humankind had somehow evolved into a high tech torture chamber and sterile witness to violent suicides. And the worst part? The worst part was that she knew it wouldn’t be long before she was on the other side of the glass once again, ready for another round of torment.
The Hallucigenia Project Page 37