City of Steam (Blackburn Chronicles)

by Dominic K Alexander

  Minutes passed before the duke calmed and started drinking again while looking at her on the floor. There was no remorse for the beating he had just dealt her anywhere on his face. He just stared and drank. The room was depressingly quiet and Mac decided she was done cowering.

  Being as defiant as possible, Mac opened a crusted eye and was surprised the other opened more than it had minutes before. She stared at the duke without fear or trepidation. She stood, slightly hunched over, and glared at him as if any pain he could dish out would not phase her. As a matter of fact, the pain didn't faze her. She couldn't feel anything other than anger.

  A laugh, that was more of a mouse like squeak, came from the woman still standing behind Mac, and she looked back seeing the crazed look in her eyes and the huge smile on her face.

  "Dear sister," the duke said. "you certainly do chose the difficult toys to play with, now don't you." Another squeak came from the duchess and Mac rolled her eyes before turning her attention back to the duke. The room was quiet except for the duchess letting out the periodic squeak before going silent again. Mac noticed the gunslinger stood tapping his finger on the butt of his gun and waiting to see what might happen.

  "Why have you brought me here?" Mac said quietly to the duke. "Why have you taken me from my home and the people I love just to kill me?"

  The duke laughed uncontrollable and his sister joined him. "If I wanted you dead, you would be dead, but sadly, I need you alive."

  "Why?"

  "It’s simple really, I want your father dead." The duke replied.

  "Maybe you didn't get the memo, but my father has been dead for years. I saw it happen with my own eyes." Mac thought back to the day she was stalked in the forest and the last time she had seen her father alive. Her defiance faltered and a tear rolled down her cheek.

  "You claim he is deceased. If this is true, then you will have no problem bringing me his bones. As you said, you did witness his death; therefore, would know exactly where he was burned." The duke licked his lips with the wide-eyed gaze of a crazed psyche patient.

  "What does having me here have to do with my father anyway?" Mac changed the subject.

  The duke dropped back into his seat and lit a cigar slowly taking a drag and releasing. "I tried extremely hard to have your mother lure her precious husband here, but he failed to love her enough to come rescue her; therefore, I was forced to find someone he loved a great deal more. Wouldn't you know it, in my time of need, you came knocking at my door." A squeak came again from behind her.

  "For someone who claims to be great and powerful, you are nothing more than an ignorant ass." Mac spit her words at the duke. "If you knew anything about me you would know I have not seen my father in years. If he is alive, he not only is the world’s greatest hide and go seek champion, but he abandoned the one person you claim he loves more than anyone else. That is some solid logic on your part, bud."

  Laughing and clapping came from the duchess as the duke glared back at Mac. "Ooohhh, I do like her,” The duchess said. “please let me keep her. Oh, please, oh please." The duchess’s hands ran over Mac's shoulder again then down her arm, over her stomach, and finally resting beneath Macs belt line. She pulled Mac back into her solid body and as Mac started to escape her wrench of a grip the distinct click from the hammer of the gunslingers sixshooter froze her in place.

  "Dear sister, I am not sure it would be a very good idea for you to play with this one. It seems to be rotten at its core." The duke said. "Why don't you find a local to play with tonight?”

  The duchess pulled her hand from beneath Macs pants and ran her fingers over Macs bloody body before sliding her finger in her mouth with a loud sucking sound. "But brother, she is just so very tasty." She ran her finger over Mac again and Mac struggled to not pull away noticing the gunslingers gun was still pointed at her. The slight rumble of glass silenced and the duchess continued to beg having not noticed the room shaking around her. "I promise I won't kill this one like I did the last. That girl was simply weaker than I had thought. It wasn't my fault." Mac shivered at the thought.

  "You know I can never say no to you, dear sister, but I do warn. If you let this one die and her father does not come face his punishment, my cane is the least of your worries." The duke said pointing his cane at her.

  "Don't make me a promise you aren't willing to keep." She said slowly licking her lips, then with a little hop and squeak she released Mac and left the room.

  The duke shook his head slightly before addressing the gunslinger. "Walter, make sure Miss Blackburn is taken to the duchess’s chambers and is secured. And make sure she is washed down; her stench is tainting my home." The duke wrinkled his nose and flicked his wrist towards the door.

  Walter let out a sharp whistle and two guards moved into the room. They shackled Mac tightly and Walter gave them their orders. As they pulled Mac to the door, she turned back and looked at the duke with a smile. "I will escape here, duke, and I will kill you."

  "Yes, dear, that may be true, but it won't be tonight, and once my sister shows you her room of horror, you will be begging for me to cane you before lighting you on fire and giving you death." He laughed as the guards dragged Mac from the room.

  11.

  The guards forced Mac down the long hallways of the beautiful building which was covered in gold and art. The home was meant to house royalty and the opposite of how the other citizens lived. At one point, she was led up a central set of stairs in which a picture of the duke and duchess stood next to a larger picture of what had to be their parents. The family resemblance was uncanny. She noticed the duke looked much younger and more handsome in the picture, and his sister stood like a cheerful woman without a care or problem in the world. They looked truly happy, and she couldn't help but wonder what had happened to take that away from them.

  After several more flights of stairs Mac was taken up a long thin staircase which was worn and unkempt. The walls were grey and cracked, and the smell was stale like an old hospital. As they reached the top of the stairs the guards pulled Mac past a thick metal door. It was the kind Mac had seen in old movies where prisoners were thrown for solitary confinement. She tried to pull away, but the men were too strong and easily threw her into the room before the door was quickly closed by a small spectacled man in a white coat. The lock slammed home and she knew there was no escape.

  Guards once again took hold of her and the room began to shake as Mac continued her defiance. An object the size of a gold ball flew through the air and landed on Mac's shoulder. She froze looking at the mechanical lady bug which stared back. She shifted, wanting to swat it away, but the guards held her too tight and the bug made its way down Mac's collar bone and sat on her chest. The room continued to tremble slightly while Mac looked at the bug, fear in her eyes. Sweat ran down her forehead knowing, like everything else in this building, whatever this was, it had to be bad for her. The metal bug unsheathed a long needle and thrust it through Mac's sternum. She tried to leap back from the pain, but the men still held her unrelenting. The room shook more and the bug warmed slightly then a burn more painful than anything Mac had felt before filled her chest. She screamed out a scream worthy of horror movies and the room stopped shaking immediately.

  "If you try to use your powers in here,” the duchess said stepping in front of Mac. "my little friend will inject you with liquid fire. As angry as my brother would be, he can never stay angry at me for very long." She waved her hand at three bars made into a large tripod in the center of the room and the guards dragged Mac to them. They strapped shackles to a clasp hanging from the center of the tripod and released Mac. She could barely touch the floor having all her weight on the balls of her feet.

  The duchess talked quietly with the man in the white coat and the guards stood next to Mac saying nothing. The room was cold and sent a chill up her back. She felt like a hanging side of beef waiting for the slaughter. She looked at the bug on her chest which sat motionless, but she swore it smiled at her. Aft
er a minute, she started to focus on her surroundings in hopes of finding an escape.

  The room was large and in one corner there was a generator of some kind with a spinning wheel in the center and long copper tubes coming off it. The wheel spun quickly in the middle and it hummed merrily. Wires spread like spider webs around the room which was lit with flickering dimly glowing light bulbs. It was the first-time Mac had ever seen someone using electricity in the city. As she scanned the room her stomach turned over at the sights around her. Not only were there jars of preserved body parts and stacks of bones littering the walls and floor, but quackery doctor tools were all over. She recognized many of them from some of the old books she had in her shop. Then she saw the old civil war style surgical tools laid out next to the duchess. She struggled again after not seeing an escape and knowing only death waited for her. The bug injected her a second time and the unbearable burn made her shake uncontrollably before finally stopping. She dropped, dead weight, pain from the shackles digging into her wrists, blood running down her arm, sweat running off her body.

  A hand ran through her hair and grabbed tightly before lifting her head. Mac looked into the dark eyes of the spectacled man. "My name is Dr. Isenhurst, Miss Blackburn. I have many questions that need to be answered, and I am sure you would be more than willing to help me test out some of my equipment here." He showed her a long tube with waves of electricity running through it. Its purple glow illuminated the madness in his eyes. The guards grabbed Mac and tore her clothing off. She wanted to fight, but the burning in her chest was more than she could bare. She hung naked, waiting for the horrors, tears running down her face silently. The only sounds were coming from a hopping duchess giggling and playing with the surgical tools and the hum of the generator.

  The doctor ran the warm tube down Mac's moistened chest, then down her stomach, and as he reached her hips he pulled away and cackled loudly. Mac wept harder as he pressed a large syringe into her spine, injecting her with a liquid which burned more than liquid fire, then he walked away. The Dr. set the instrument on the table and looked at the duchess. She bounced around the room playing with the different blades and saws, a maniacal grin on her face. She grabbed a black coat and threw it around her then picked up a scalpel and handed it to the doctor smiling.

  "It seems the duchess is a bit of an addict for my toys here, Miss Blackburn. I do assure you, before you leave me, I will introduce you to them," The Dr. picked up a long blade from his surgical tools and stepped close to Mac. "but for now I want to see how well you heal." The blade dug deep into Mac's hip and was pulled slowly up digging into the ribs as it passed and finally stopping part way up her breast, just below the bug. She screamed, but no sound came out. Blood poured from her wound and her innards started to protrude from the wound. The Dr. simply pushed them back in and held them there. Mac continued to try and scream, yet the sound failed to come.

  "In case you were wondering, I injected you with my special blend of tonics which should heighten your ability to heal while keeping your ear shattering screams silenced, but it also enhances the pain unfortunately. At least I won’t have to hear your screams for mercy. I am willing to sacrifice your pain for that." He laughed again. "There, you see, all healed." Mac looked to her side and all that remained from the wound was a long bright red scar. Even that began to fade as she watched. "You are a truly marvelous healer, Miss. If my late wife would have had your abilities, I am afraid we may have never met."

  The doctor made his way back to the surgical tools and rummaged through them. Mac was slouched forward unable to fall and soaked in her own sweat. Her mouth was as dry as if she had been in a dessert and her head throbbed with pain. The Dr. finally grabbed some of his tools and stood behind Mac. She wanted to face towards him, but had no more energy. She felt his hand grab her hip and steady her dangling body.

  "I was given a spectacular book about your home. I am curious, do you know what the Blood Eagle is, Miss Blackburn?" The blade dug deep and ran down both sides of her spine. As the first cracking and separating of her rib from her spine came she blacked out. The doctor's uncontrollable laugh played over and over in the darkness, then pain, then nothing.

  12.

  The smell of ammonia hit Mac hard, but she could barely open her eyes. The agony of the torture took its toll on Mac and as she awakened and tried to focus on her surroundings; head pounding and body unable to move properly, a sharp pinch pierced her and she didn't even have the energy to pull away. Then the pain dulled and she could move her fingers. Loud cracks and popping noises came from her body as bones and joints moved back to their rightful place. Mac slowly opened her eyes which were blurred from the tears filling them. She could hear herself sobbing, but could feel nothing. A moist cloth ran over her face finally letting her clearly see the figure before her.

  Walter looked on her with aged eyes and furrowed brows. Realizing who the man was she pushed away from him hard, but he grabbed ahold of her to keep her from falling.

  "I'm not here to hurt you." Walter said. "You need to calm down. I am going to get you out of here, but you need to keep quiet.” Mac looked at him again then down at her naked body. Dried blood covered her chest, torso, groin, and legs. Her stomach ached, and the floor was slick with red. She looked from herself then back to Walter and the tears blinded her again. He reached up and unlocked the shackles then grabbed her as she fell.

  Walter reached up and wiped her eyes then looked deep into them. "You’re going to be all right. I need you to trust me." She looked up at him, a burn still running through her veins. "I am so sorry about this, Mac." Walter said before covering her mouth and at the same time reaching up and ripping the mechanical bug from her chest. Blood and acid shot from the wound in an arc, but Walter held her mouth to muffle the screams. Several seconds of fighting him passed before she calmed and stopped resisting. He removed his hand from her mouth before motioning to the door.

  "If you haven't noticed, I don't have any clothing." The words were almost a mumble from her shaking lips.

  "There is a safer room down the hall with clean clothing and a place to clean up." Walter said. "And we can't stay here much longer." He motioned to a small mattress in the corner where the doctor was curled up, a mask over his face and a bottle lying next to him. Mac could only see red, so she ran and leapt on top of the doctor pouring the bottle of liquid over the mask and holding it tight over his face as hard as she could. His pushes were weak and he gave in to the drug and stopped struggling altogether. Walter pulled on Mac, but she held tight until his chest jerked uncontrollably, then ceased to move any longer. Walter wrapped her naked body in his arms and pulled her from the room, down the stairs, and through a hall to a different room, then to a wash room, which he had already made sure a tub was full of warm water, and lowered her into it. She continued to breathe heavily feeling her anger consuming her.

  "I need you to calm down, Mac." Walter said. She just stared, shaking, and ignoring him. Finally, he grabbed her by the hair and poured something into her mouth, forcing her to drink it. She gagged on the licorice flavored liquid, but it snapped her out of the trance. She looked around wondering how she had gotten there. Walter was stripping out of his bloody clothing and putting on something fresh. "You've gotten us into a real mess here. Clean up and get into the clothing on the bed. I need to go fix your mess." As he ran from the room Mac heard the yells from people running around the hallway. She sank back into the tub still unable to comprehend what was going on.

  Hours passed before the door opened and finally slammed shut again. Mac jerked awake from the noise and looked around the unfamiliar room. It was now colored orange with the early morning light from the washroom window. Her brain worked to remind her of all the things she had forgotten. Then Walter stepped into the room and stood looking at her and shaking his head.

  "It's been hours, Mac." He said. "You haven't even washed your hair." She just looked at him unsure what to say or where things were going to go from there. He
simply grabbed a cup and stepped behind her dipping it in the water and pouring it over her head. "You need to clean up so we can get you out of here." His words were soft and kind.

  "Why are you doing this?" Mac finally said quietly still not trusting him.

  "It's the right thing to do." He replied plainly.

  "Was shooting me the right thing to do?"

  "Seems to me you're still alive, and there isn't even a scar." Walter said, his mouth turned up on one side. She looked at her shoulder and there was in fact no visible scar from the bullet. "You magic users certainly seem to be pretty good at healing up. Well, unless we set you on fire, that is." He huffed out another small smile.

  "I can't use magic."

  "Well, maybe you don't quite know it yet, but from what I have seen you are able to use magic and are pretty strong at that."

  "Everything I did was because of something the doctor gave me." The thought of him turned her stomach and she arched forward puking in the tub. Walter grabbed her under the arms, pulled her out and wrapped her in a towel.

  "The doctor won't be able to hurt you anymore. You need to put him out of your mind."

  "And what about that freak of a duchess?" Mac snapped.

  "She certainly is a strung-out pain addict, but it took a lot to get her there. This family has been through a lot to make them what they are. Unfortunately, it was those trials that made them make the wrong decisions and become the evil you have come to know. The human brain can only endure so much before it cracks."

  "I don't care what they have gone through. Torture is not the answer."

  "You may very well be right, but ask yourself why you killed the doctor last night." Mac gripped the towel and pulled it tightly around her. She slumped low reaching out and grabbing the copper tub to steady herself. The popping sounds from her bones made her cringe, but feeling the waves of muscle shift back to their normal placement made her stomach turn over again and vomit in the tub a second time.