Hyde's Lament - A Dark Novella
L N. Denison
Published by L N. Denison, 2018.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
HYDE'S LAMENT - A DARK NOVELLA
First edition. February 18, 2018.
Copyright © 2018 L N. Denison.
Written by L N. Denison.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
CHAPTER 1
CHAPTER 2
CHAPTER 3
CHAPTER 4
CHAPTER 5
CHAPTER 6
CHAPTER 7
CHAPTER 8
CHAPTER 9
CHAPTER 10
CHAPTER 11
CHAPTER 12
CHAPTER 13
CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 22
EPILOGUE
To all the people who took the time to read this story before and after its publication. You know who you are. I would also like to thank Ian Bristow for another wonderful cover...thank you all for your continued support of my work.
CHAPTER 1
Hyde woke up to a sharp pain in her stomach, as though something were ripping her apart from the inside, twisting and writhing to push its way out. But more terrifying than the pain was her inability to move, no matter how hard she tried. The bleak grey walls and barred windows of her new surroundings only served to intensify her fear, bringing her out in a cold sweat. She lifted her head and looked down at Velcro restraints fastened to the rusty bars of an old, steel hospital bed. Someone had replaced her clothes with white scrubs. What the hell is going on? She thought, I need to get out of here... now!
Fear gave way as anger bubbled to the surface. As her vision came into focus, she spotted two men, armed with semi-automatic rifles, enter the dingy makeshift medical wing. She feigned sleep and watched them approach through her eyelashes. One held a straitjacket, and the other, a syringe. Looming over Hyde, the man with the syringe slowly motioned toward her thigh. Without warning, she opened her eyes, and widened them as the needle’s point headed towards her left leg.
“What is that?” Hyde’s voice shook. “Get the fuck away from me!”
The man slapped a strong hand onto her thigh to stop the wriggling, and slid the needle in.
“Just a little Diazepam to calm you for the short journey to the training facility, that’s all.” The man regarded her with indifference as he slowly pumped the drug into her system.
Hyde became weak as the drug took effect. She tried to move but her muscles felt like rubber. Her eyes grew heavy and her head flopped to the side. She felt drool sliding out the side of her mouth and tried to close it but couldn’t. A moment later, her arm was free and being slid into the straitjacket. And then the other. Her mind was resisting, but her body was as compliant as a rag-doll. With each cinch of the buckle, air was forced from her lungs. Finally, the sleeves were wrapped across her chest and the ties secured behind her back. As well as being so relaxed she could hardly walk, she had now lost the use of her arms.
With a man stabilising her either side, Hyde was led out of the cold room into the corridor devoid of any life or feeling, her feet dragging behind her as they refused to work. The bad lighting seemed to be the norm in the bomb shelter. Whilst being pulled along, she took in the starkness of her surroundings as they passed her by. She tried to marshal her thoughts against the creeping effects of the drug that flowed through her system, and to resist being pulled.
“Don’t be getting any ideas in that pretty little head of yours,” One of the men said in Hyde’s ear. “I can see what you’re doing; I’m not stupid.” He stopped and pulled the thin, green cloth scarf from around his neck. Swaying unsteadily, Hyde could not stop him using the cloth to cover her eyes, depriving her of vision as it was pulled tight around her head.
“If you can’t see where you’re going, you can’t think about escaping.”
“You... a fruugn idiot” ... slurred from her mouth,
Now, completely in the dark, Hyde’s legs were made to move faster than her body and mind would allow, but no amount of pulling back was going to stop the speed in which she was being carried along between the two soldiers.
She stumbled once and was hauled back upright.
“Don’t give me an excuse to hurt you, caver.”
And this is where it would begin: the dehumanisation. She knew she had been changing, felt it happen, but they had not let her see the changes for herself. The thought left her heart heavy with sadness and dread. Am I really changing? I haven’t looked on my face in weeks. What have they done to me? I need to know.
A tug on the straitjacket sent Hyde to her knees, but with the momentum of the fall the two men could lift her straight back up and keep her moving. A sudden, jarring halt made her wary.
“You’ve reached the end of the line,” the man to her right said as he pushed her forward. There was the sound of a door being opened just in front of where she stood and then she was being pushed through it. Not being able to see, Hyde wasn’t sure what this room might be, but like everywhere else, it was a cold, and smelt damp... and unwelcoming.
“Bring her to me,” a man’s voice said from some distance away. “Take that blindfold off and leave us.” They ripped the blindfold from her head and shoved her forward, then turned and left. The room she was in was as depressing as the one she had been dragged from, and to add to the anxiety that grew in her mind, she spotted a steel six by six cage in the corner, which she guessed was for her.
The only other occupant of the room was someone very familiar to her, and one that frightened her. It was Judd. But how? I was told that he was scheduled for execution. He should be dead by now. Hyde’s knees buckled, but there was no one to catch her this time. Judd watched as she fell but did nothing to help her.
“Do you intend to stay there all day, Hyde?” Judd asked, his voice stern and angry. “Get to your feet, soldier. I won’t ask again.”
Hyde felt her gorge rise with anxiety, and the blood in her veins ran cold, as she tried, but failed several times to obey the captain’s order. With a sense of purpose, the man stalked towards her letting her see how displeased he was by the lack of response.
“Get to your feet,” he bawled as he bent over her. “You look disgusting, Hyde. Have you seen yourself lately?”
She answered with a single shake of her head and he stepped back, his nose wrinkling in disgust.
“Just get up!”
With no hands to push herself up, Hyde tried again to stand. It hurt to do so, as her muscles were still in such a state of relaxation from the Diazepam, that her whole body was uncooperative. It took every ounce of energy to keep her from falling again.
Grabbing at the straitjacket, Judd led her over to the cage and pushed her inside. He kept her trapped in her canvas prison as he closed the door and locked it.
“This will be your new home for next few months, get used to it,” he seethed. “Don’t think for one minute that I won’t pick up from where I left off.”
CHAPTER 2
The men sat around an elongated table, drinking tea and eating biscuits, as the mysterious man who called the meeting stood on the other side of the room, his arms folded...watching them.
“Why have you called us here... sir?” The major sounded tense. “We have been sitting here for twenty minutes now,
and you’ve said nothing. What’s this all about?”
The sharply dressed man stared at the major indifferently, and waited another few moments to assert his authority, before replying.
“First, let me introduce myself... my name is Quentin Miller,” he said “I work for the consortium who ran the original caver program. You were recruited to bring in the man who created the original batch, after our man took matters too far. I trust you’ve dealt with Malcolm Judd accordingly?”
The major stared blankly at his hands that lay palm down on the table, which gave Miller the answer he had feared.
“Why is Judd still alive?” Miller clenched his teeth in frustration. “I thought the consortium made it clear, that he was to be disposed of.”
The major cleared his throat and looked blankly at him.
“We need him for the transition, sir.”
“You have other resources for that, why do you need Judd? He nearly killed the man who holds the formula.” Miller ground out. “You’re reckless.”
The major stood up, clenched his fists and slammed them on the solid wooden table.
“Don’t patronise me Miller. I know what I’m doing.”
“You’d better, major. It won’t be my head on the chopping block if anything goes wrong. It’ll be yours. Just remember that.”
Clark sighed and looked down at his fists.
“Okay, we’ll do it your way, but Judd stays alive... for now,” Clark said flatly. “I may have plans for him later.”
THE MAJOR WAITED UNTIL he knew for sure that Miller was a fair distance away before he started talking to the others in the room.
“I’m not going to let that little prick dictate to me. We are going to continue to do things my way, whether he likes it or not.”
His small group of staff nodded almost simultaneously, almost frantically. He found it pathetic but loved the sense of power their fear and obedience gave him.
“Smithers, send me Captain Judd as soon as you find him,” he snapped, “the rest of you, get out.”
The uniformed collective left the confines of the conference room and headed back to their daily routines within the bunker. Clark sat back in his position at the table and pondered his next move. He leant forward and placed his elbows on the table, intertwined his fingers and rested his chin on the bridge. He had to think of something to tell the captain. New orders, anything.
NO MORE THAN FIVE MINUTES later, Captain Judd entered the room. He saluted and stood at ease upon order.
“Sir, you asked for me?” Then he waited... “Sir?”
“Yes, Judd, I heard you,” Clark returned, as he pulled on the corner of file sat on the desk in front of him. “How is Hyde’s training going, is she on schedule for a full transition?”
Judd nodded once.
“Yes sir, all going to plan.” He cleared his throat. “She is doing what she’s supposed to, with a little gentle persuasion.”
“Good, I’m glad to hear that she is complying.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Do you think you’ll be ready for Marcus Dench soon? We need to get the program going to get that consortium idiot off our backs.”.
“She will be, sir. Whenever you want...but I’ll let one of my subordinates deal with him, before I get involved. I want him to agree to do the work before I reveal myself to him. He will resist if he knows that I’m involved in this. As you know, we don’t see eye to eye.” Judd cleared his throat.
Looking up, Clark said, “Dismissed. I want full reports daily from tomorrow onwards, is that clear?”
“Yes, sir.” Judd saluted and left the room.
Clark opened the file that sat in front of him. It was a profile of Judd’s new assistant, Sergeant, Gregory Scott. Judd was good, but Scott might be a nice addition to the team now that the program was getting underway. His brow creased as he read through. That Scott asked to be transferred to the bunker piqued Clark’s interest more than the sergeant’s torturous exploits. Clark reached across his desk and pressed the intercom.
“Smithers, When Sergeant Scott arrives bring him straight to my office. I need you to dig up any information on him you can find before he arrives. The file that I’ve been sent by HQ is very vague.”
GREGORY SCOTT WAS A simple man who wanted nothing more than to do his part in a fucked up world. But when he was told of Catherine Hyde’s imprisonment, that’s when he knew he needed to help her escape. He had been charged with moulding Hyde into a soldier at Pirbright and remained close after her training had been completed.
There was another reason for him wanting to infiltrate the bunker... his brother, John Cummings. Scott had been shown a list by his commanding officer. His brother and several other survivors from the North were named and had been taken there. But he didn’t know if they’d been taken under duress, or if they’d been offered sanctuary. It had taken every ounce of energy to get the transfer to the London Bunker, but he managed to persuade the higher ups to get him in there. Scott had done those higher-ups plenty of favours over the years, and it was time for some of those favours to be called in.
SCOTT PICKED HIS WAY through tangled debris to reach the front of the bunker. The directions he had been given were simple enough to follow, and his Jeep had been abandoned in favour of walking the rest of the way. The debris played a small part in that decision. Each step was taken with trepidation, as debris began to dislodge under his feet. Two men appeared in the foreground, their rifles primed and ready. Scott held his hands in the air to appease them, then slowly lowered one hand and reached for his breast pocket when the soldiers levelled their weapons at his head.
“I’m just getting my transfer papers.”
“Slowly,” the private said.
Scott slid the folded sheet out and handed it to the closest soldier, who unfolded it and read.
“If we’re good here, you can take me to your superior now. Thanks”.
“LOOKS LIKE YOUR TRANSFER has arrived, sir,” a voice sounded over Clark’s comm.
“Get him escorted up and send Judd to my office ASAP.”
“Yes, sir.”
The comm went quiet. Clark sat and waited for Sergeant Scott to arrive. He looked down at the sergeant’s paperwork and thumbed through it again, still trying to fathom how this man he was about to become acquainted with managed to get a transfer to his section. A phone call was in order to see who’d authorised it, as there was no viable signature on the paperwork itself.
Clark looked up at the clock that hung on the wall above the door. Twenty-five minutes had passed since the call came across the comm, but there was still no sign of either man. He reached across and turned the comm switch.
“What’s the hold up? Where are Judd and Scott?”
There was a loud bang, that constituted a knock at the door. Clark looked up, his eyebrows knitted.
“Enter,” he grumbled, “and be quick about it. You have kept me waiting long enough.”
The door was opened quickly, and Scott stepped over the threshold, marching to the front of the major’s desk. He stood to attention and saluted, not making eye contact at any time.
“At ease, Scott,” Clark said as he continued to scrutinise the paperwork in front of him. “What I want to know is, why ask for a transfer here?”
“You need someone with my capabilities,” Scott paused briefly. “I can get results, sir.”
There was another knock at the door, a gentler knock than before.
“Enter.”
Judd walked through the door radiating a sense of purpose, clearly eager to look upon the man who would be shadowing him through Hyde’s transition.
CHAPTER 3
Scott had been at the bunker for three days - shadowing Judd - and today he’d been given the task of taking on Hyde’s transition for the first time. As he walked down the corridor toward the training room, a sudden wave of remorse hit him like a wrecking ball to the gut, and that she didn’t recognise him made the impact even harder. What am I doing?
If anyone deserves to be tortured, it’s that sadistic fuck, Judd. He shook himself out of his thoughts as he came face to face with the door. He slowly turned the handle and took a deep breath before entering.
The room was still as cold as he remembered from the first time he’d entered. Hyde was still huddled in the corner of her cage toward the back, a black canvas bag concealing her head. Her breathing was laboured as if in a high state of anxiety. Scott made his way over to the cage with a stealth precision, not wanting to alert her of his arrival. He needed to suppress his earlier thoughts to get his mind back to appearing hard and uncompromising to keep his cover intact.
He pulled his Glock out of its holster. Took hold of its barrel and rapped the bars of Hyde’s cage with the handle. She flinched and began to writhe and twist in her straitjacket. It pained him to see her bound up. He tightened his jaw and slammed his eyes shut. No matter how he felt, he couldn’t deviate. He couldn’t be distracted from the job he had to do, albeit, against everything he stood for.
MARCUS DENCH WOKE FROM a fitful sleep, propped himself up on his elbow and focused on his surroundings. Have I been moved? Confusion set in as he looked around the darkened room; then panic, as he realised that he was the only one in it. Where am I? Where’s Jas? Rising unsteadily from the bunk, Marcus made his way over to the cell door. Taking hold of the barred recess with his remaining hand, he tried to peer out. All his eyes could focus on was a sea of white. The bright light that filled the corridor, blinded him.
“Is anybody there?” he shouted, tension clinging to his vocal cords as his eyes squinted to adjust.
There was no answer.
“Please, somebody.”
Still nothing.
Heading back to his bunk, Marcus stared at the thin mattress and laid back down. The silence was deafening. What the fuck is going on? Is this a kind of psychological torture? Why have I been isolated?
After a while he fell back into a fitful sleep and was woken by a loud clunk of metal against metal. Someone had finally come. As he sat up, Marcus placed his remaining hand behind his head and crossed his feet, waiting for the door to open. Within moments, the door squeaked on its axis, opening fully and revealing the silhouette of a man, against the brilliant white light that shone through. Pulling his arm across his face to block out the brightness, Marcus waited for whoever it was... to speak.
Hyde's Lament: A Dark Novella (Only The Few Book 2) Page 1