Anthology of Ichor III: Gears of Damnation

by Breaux, Kevin

  “Hey guys look! It's just a prop!” Violet yelled. "It was just special effects!"

  Violet raised the head in her hands. She looked at the thing’s rotted skin before raking her fingernails across the thing’s cheeks.

  Thick chunks of discolored flesh fell away from the slimy head and the ooze-covered skin landed on the floor in wet strips.

  “Its pig skin! And cow eyes!” Violet shouted.

  Violet thrust her index finger into the thing’s left eye socket.

  The watery blue organ rolled around in the circular socket near her finger with a wet popping noise.

  “I’ll get it out! And you’ll see!” Violet shouted.

  Violet wriggled her finger rapidly within the circular cavity of the eye socket. She released a grunt of frustration when the eye remained inside of the skull.

  “Stop it!” A low voice cried.

  A pair of pale hands snatched the head from Violet’s grasp.

  Violet looked up and she saw Hal kneeling in front of her.

  Hal held the severed head in his hands. He stared at Violet with an expression of pain across his handsome features.

  “Stop it Violet! It's just too much,” Hal said.

  “Give that back! They have to see that it's not real.” Violet said.

  “No,” Hal said.

  “Hal, give it to me!” Violet yelled.

  Violet reached for the severed head.

  Hal moved back a few paces and he held the bony sphere away from her grasp.

  “I said no!” Hal shouted.

  “Why won’t you give it to me?” Violet asked.

  “Because it's over," Hal responded flatly.

  "Not yet it's not," Erwin said.

  Violet looked at the space behind Hal.

  Erwin stood behind the blonde young man.

  Erwin smiled at Violet before he raised the large glass skull in his fat hands. He released a banshee-like wail before slamming the weighted object across the top of Hal’s head.

  The glass object shattered with a resonant crash. An infinite number of large glass shards cascaded across Hal’s bloody scalp and fell onto his shoulders with loud tinkling sounds.

  Hal’s features contorted into an expression of surprise and pain before he closed his eyes and collapsed onto the floor in an unconscious heap.

  “Hal!” Violet cried.

  Erwin fell to his knees. He shoved Hal’s motionless form aside before crawled forward with impressive speed. He stopped in front of Violet and grabbed her shoulders roughly. He pulled her close to him and mashed his lips against hers in a sloppy kiss. He pulled away from Violet abruptly and shoved her away from him with a huff.

  “Not as good as I remembered,” Erwin commented.

  Violet fell to the floor on her side. She sat up and crawled away from Erwin with a choking gag. She wiped her lips with the back of her hands before turning her head and spitting onto the floor.

  Erwin snatched the severed head from Hal’s limp grasp. He rose to his feet and took a few steps back. HE turned around slowly and gazed across the auditorium with a fiendish laugh.

  Principal Lubbitz rose unsteadily from the floor. He staggered to his feet and stared at the trashed auditorium.

  “Hey Lubbitz rescind this!” Erwin shouted.

  Principal Lubbitz turned in Erwin's direction. He focused his wavering sight on the young man's face and twisted his face into a sneer.

  "Erwin you are expelled!" Principal Lubbitz shouted.

  "Screw you!" Erwin shrieked.

  Erwin raised the severed head in his grasp and he threw it at Principal Lubbitz.

  The head flew across the auditorium with impressive speed. The floating sphere slammed against the front portion of Principal Lubbitz' head with a loud cracking sound.

  The severed head exploded in a large cloud of red dust, brittle bone, wriggling worms, flying maggots and black brains.

  Principal Lubbitz form was enclosed within the gruesome scarlet cloud. The aging man stumbled backwards a few paces before collapsing to the floor atop his spine.

  "Principal Lubbitz!" Violet cried.

  "Cry not for him," Erwin said.

  Violet turned to Erwin and she looked at him with anger.

  "Erwin you creep!" Violet screamed.

  Erwin laughed.

  Violet leaped to her feet and she rushed to Erwin with a fearsome roar. She closed her left hand into a tight fist and slammed her limb against Erwin's right jaw.

  The sound of a loud crack echoed from Erwin's skull and the young man stumbled backwards with a blood-tinged grin and a light laugh.

  "Violetta, you do like me!" Erwin shrieked with laughter.

  "You're insane!" Violet screamed shaking her aching right hand.

  Principal Lubbitz voice echoed from the far side of the auditorium.

  "Help me. Someone help me. Can't breathe…" Principal Lubbitz cried.

  Violet turned away from Erwin and she gazed in Principal Lubbitz direction.

  The middle aged man lay on the floor atop his spine.

  The large cloud of red dust hovered around the top portion of his form.

  The scarlet cloud suddenly vanished.

  Principal Lubbitz released a loud cough and he sat up on the floor. He turned his body slowly in Violet's direction.

  Violet looked at the middle aged man's face and she screamed.

  The slime covered severed head rested atop the middle aged man's neck.

  Dozens of maggots and black beetles crawled across the top portion of the near fleshless skull.

  The insects fell from the skull and the creatures landed on the floor with loud clacking noises.

  The fleshless skull's left eye was a pale shade of yellow. Its right eye was blue dangled from its worm-filled socket.

  The slimy orb fell from its perch inside the skull and it landed on the floor with a loud plopping sound.

  The sound of a low voice echoed behind Violet.

  "Please help me. Can't breathe…"

  Violet turned around slowly and she looked at the space behind her.

  Erwin stood behind her. He stared at her with a maniacal grin. He clutched a wooden box in his left hand.

  Erwin reached into the box and he pulled out a large circular object.

  Principal Lubbitz' severed head was clutched in Erwin's grasp.

  Principal Lubbitz released a low sob. Red-tinged tears poured from his eyes and dripped onto the floor. His pale lips trembled violently.

  "Please help me…"

  Erwin raised his free hand.

  A pair of silver glasses was clutched in his grasp.

  Erwin giggled wildly while he placed the glasses atop Principal Lubbitz face.

  "Now can you see?" Erwin asked.

  "Please…" Principal Lubbitz begged.

  Erwin tossed back his head and laughed heartily.

  Violet clutched at her chest with a gasp before she collapsed to the floor in a dead faint.

  KREET

  by

  A. J. French

  I had never tried Kreet—but then again, I was an upstanding landowner. I lived in my safe little cottage away from Black City and didn’t trouble myself with hunger, addiction, or poverty. City problems were City problems. I was content working on the farm and collecting my father’s monthly inheritance check from the bank.

  Sure, I saw the spires in the distance and the clouds of rising smoke. And the smell—yes, that occasionally wafted over to settle in my valley. But my land was lush and serene. The trees linked branches overhead to form shady arches that criss-crossed my property. A path wound through the forest between the moss-covered rocks to a brook where Arayana and I used to have lunch.

  Then she fell ill. After retiring to her bedroom, she started to grow, and her skin turned bright green, and warts sprouted up on her body.

  I fetched the doctor.

  “She’s been bitten by a poisonous Yobo Toad,” he said after his examination. “I’ve seen it a hundred times. The
y come up from the City horribly mutated and stinking of chemicals. I’m sorry, Mr. Wolery, but your wife will be dead in a week.”

  “I don’t believe you!” I exclaimed, bursting into tears and kneeling at her bedside. I took her grotesque hand, cradling it in my own, and pressed her knuckles against my cheek. She said nothing, merely gazed down with her great bulging eyes. The doctor, sensing finality to things, departed and left us alone.

  The smell became so bad that I was forced to haul her bed into the yard. She continued to grow. Her last days were spent gazing at the moon, as though some secret nirvana awaited her there.

  Meanwhile, I could no longer stand her grotesqueness, and observed from the window, whimpering like a child. But she never shed a tear, never betrayed a hint of emotion.

  On the seventh day, she exploded like a sack of grain.

  I paced around the vile heap, cursing the City for doing this to my wife. Then I released the pigs, as I could not deal with the tremendous mess. Yet I thought it cruel, especially as I watched Arayana’s remains disappearing down their gullets. Finally, I doused the whole of it in kerosene and struck a match. That night a pillar of smoke rose from my estate.

  A few days later, I was siting on my porch in the afternoon sun, whittling, feeling absolutely gloomy, when I saw a figure advancing up the road. Normally, the appearance of a stranger on my land would send me into hysterics; but after the nightmare with Arayana, things such as “personal property” no longer matter to me.

  He was a strange fellow: tall, gangly, with leathery skin, wiry hair, and crooked teeth. He reminded me of a lizard walking upright. He had a hiking stick and a burlap sack slung over his shoulder. As he cut across the fields, he resembled a scarecrow come to life.

  When he reached the front porch, he glared at me.

  “What can I do you for?” I asked, staying my knife.

  He spoke but a single word. “Kreet.”

  I dropped my chunk of wood. “What a dirty mouth you’ve got! This is pious land, boy. I don’t entertain City mischief. Are you a dealer, is that it?”

  His head bobbed side to side and he grew pensive. “No, I’m a simple user. I work in the sewage treatment plant in the City, fishing out prophylactics and aborted fetuses—stuff like that.” He traced a curious symbol in the dirt with his foot. “But . . . I know a dealer.”

  I felt like charging forward and braining him then and there. What nerve: stupid, base, worthless junkie, coming around to spoil my bereavement.

  “I know the death of your wife ails you,” he said. “You’re trapped on this wedge of land with a heavy heart. But take comfort, friend. I too reek of sorrow.”

  I squinted at him. “How do you know Arayana?”

  “My dream, you see, it whispered her name. Your wife provided the balance in your life. Now there’s a disproportion in the scales, and your world is off kilter.”

  I rose immediately. “I didn’t kill her! That blasted City dumping its toxins into the water—it did this to her! It’s mutated the animals and made monsters out of them.”

  He stepped back. “No, no—I didn’t mean to imply that you ‘killed her,’ please forgive me. Perhaps I am going about this all wrong. I don’t want to spoil it, you know? Please, allow me to introduce myself. I am called Mausu.”

  He extended his hand, which I shook. “I’m Trinth,” I said, “Trinth Wolery.”

  “There, now we aren’t strangers. Please understand, I’ve come to help you Trinth. Kreet has an ungainly reputation; some fear it, while others adore it. Yet those who fear it do so out of ignorance. Misinformation runs rampant in Black City, and as a result, labels are applied to everything. But Kreet is not a drug. No, my friend. It is a doorway.”

  “What do you propose?” I asked.

  Mausu bent before me, taking my hand, and the fields of wheat whooshed around us.

  “We go,” he said, “into the City. To locate the dealer.”

  ~*~

  We came through a fog of smoke and sulfur to the Black City Gates. A man emerged with a hose and began spraying us down. Once clean, Mausu and I approached the gate and a spiny-faced woman, with her head poking through the bars, regarded us.

  “Permission to enter?” said Mausu, holding up his palm to reveal the inlaid bar code.

  She studied him for a moment, then hauled open the gates.

  “She didn’t ask to see my palm,” I said.

  Mausu smirked. “It’s quite obvious you’re not from the City.”

  “And that don’t bother them?”

  “We’re allowed visitors.”

  He led me along an incongruous street lined with buildings. Patriotic flags sprouted from the rooftops, whipping in the wind. Businessmen bustled everywhere, heads bowed, hands pocketed, coat collars turned up. Women, whose shiny bodies reflected the ash-gray light, hurried nakedly about, for it was illegal that they be clothed inside the City. I noticed a group of children castrating a dog and, horrified, had to stay and watch.

  “Something dreams this City,” Mausu said, turning down an alley.

  “I loathe it,” I replied. “I want nothing to do with it. In the country, people respect each other; they don’t carry on with mechanical violence, or rape their daughters.”

  “Oh? Then what do they do for fun?”

  I sighed. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand.”

  “In here,” he said, shoving me through a lopsided door. I fell against a bedraggled nest of linens and uttered a curse. A flash of light exploded as Mausu lit a lamp.

  “This is where I live.”

  “It smells awful!”

  He smiled. “Well, I do work for the sewage plant. You’d expect I come home reeking of roses and fields of wheat? We can’t all be—what I mean is: nothing about my life is romantic.”

  He sat at the table, beyond which lay towers of books and disassembled machines.

  “That’s where I dreamed of your wife, right there in that bed. I saw your land, your farm—you. I saw your existence lowering, class by class. Soon you’ll have nothing left to offer but manual labor. Then you’ll be a machine, a proletariat, like me. And when a machine feels tired, it malfunctions. That’s why I take it. The doorway, that is. I go through, through, and through. Haha! They can’t find me then—nor will they find you. Look here, I’ll even say it: kreet.”

  The room swelled with the echo of a thunderclap. Walls rattled, papers diffused. When I looked to Mausu, he was smiling.

  “All right,” I said. “So you’ve piqued my interest. I want to try this kreet. But I don’t care anymore, do you hear? I don’t care. You’re preaching to the choir. Let’s just do it and be done.”

  This seemed to upset him, and he was quiet for a while. Then he said, “Do you know what you’re going to see when you open the door?”

  I shook my head.

  “The face of God leering back in all its glory.”

  I sighed. “Well good, there are some things I’d like to discuss with Him. So, when do we do it?”

  “Rest now,” he said. “It has been a long journey. When you wake, we will go and see the dealer.”

  “I can’t sleep…” but before I finished the sentence, my eyelids slammed like portcullises, and I drifted into dream, the scent of raw sewage in my nose.

  ~*~

  I awoke to blackness and stifled a cry. Hopping to my feet, I spun around, not sure where I was. Then Mausu lifted the lamp, shedding light on my memories.

  “What time is it?” I asked.

  “Time to go.” He rose from the table, hoisting the sack over his shoulder, but leaving his hiking stick propped against the wall.

  “Will it be far?”

  “No, but it will be deep.”

  “What?”

  “The dealer lives in the sewage drains beneath the City. We can reach her lair via a tunnel at the treatment plant.”

  “The dealer’s a woman?”

  His face cracked into a grin. “Aren’t they all?”

  Night h
ad settled over the City, and a billion stars chased a gibbous moon across the sky. Mausu led me past innumerable locked doors with shuttered windows, homes whose inhabitants were either asleep or intent on hiding. A maze of vagrants lined the sidewalks, curled up in bedclothes of trash and debris.

  We reached a domed edifice squashed between two gray canals. Wooden wheels revolved in the water. Mausu unlocked a high metal door and let us inside.

  “Is there not security?” I whispered.

  He chuckled wryly. “Of course there is: me.”

  A matrix of steel walkways and stairwells led toward the ceiling. Near the floor, a pool of brown water bubbled, smelling terrible, worse than anything I’d encountered on the farm.

  I followed Mausu to the back of the building and we entered a circular opening. A trickle of water echoed in the earth as we made our way down, guided by strands of glowing lights.

  “Something dreams this,” he said.

  “How do you know?”

  “Everything is a dream, whether it is our own, or someone else’s. I’ve been dreaming of this night for a while. You’re going to love the kreet, I just know you are.”

  “I haven’t got any money, if that’s what you’re after.”

  He glanced over his shoulder. “Don’t you worry, little bourgeois man. The dealer gives of her own accord. Here in the Caverns of Excrement, money may as well be smoke.”

  Sounds picked up in the distance: clanks, clatters, clangs. The tunnel ceased abruptly and we found ourselves in a vast stone chamber. A heavy iron grating functioned as the floor, suspended over dark stagnant water, in which sleek animals surfaced.

  Dirt-colored people crouched in the corners, playing with fire, smoking, doing God knew what else. Many were so filthy I couldn’t tell whether they were naked or clothed. I heard their pleasureful moans in the darkness and even glimpsed a pile of pale, wriggling forms.

  It was good Mausu knew the way, for I was dizzy with all the twists and turns. I felt nervous and out of place, and I missed the fields on my farm. Moreover, I missed Arayana.