Mephista.
But if she was really the beautiful Olga Mervil, why did they need to resort to such procedures? Gerard still had the pictures of her bewitching beauty in his head.
The walk was not long. From the chilly dark, where a few snowflakes drifted down, they went into another trailer. It looked no different than the others. All were white with “Crucifer Circus” in big red letters on the side, and all had television antennas. In this trailer was a woman whose profile was a wreck, her mouth and neck joined into one. Lina, in charge of the circus music, whom Gerard had seen only during the performance.
“Is it ready?” Mirk asked.
“Your orders have been carried out.”
“The subject?”
“At your disposal.”
“Did she scream or cry?”
“Of course. I did what I could to calm her down, telling her that she would be free soon.”
“You said the right thing,” the scarlet clown grimaced.
Gerard had already guessed what they were talking about when Crucifer threw him roughly on the ground.
“Why him?” Lina asked, apparently unsurprised.
For sure there must always have been strange things happening at the Crucifer Circus.
“He sought to know too much. He’ll be a witness to the experiment.”
Lina leaned over Gerard and he soaked up all the ugliness of the poor girl. Another one worthy of Crucifer’s tragic parade.
“Yes, the Wildors and Fever Blister told me about him. Vitriol, right?”
“At least it’s a good likeness.”
Mirk came up and with his knotty, tortured fingers touched the make-up of Teddy Verano’s stepson.
“The latest products. Wonderful! Biological latex… It would fool anyone.”
“Fever Blister wasn’t fooled,” said Lina. “She sees. She sees. Can’t get the better of her. ‘Danger is on the prowl’ she said. ‘He’s coming… with a false face… He’s very close… he’s here!’ She told us as much…”
“Fever Blister is a precious friend, a true medium,” Crucifer cut her off.
Mirk was still grotesquely caressing the fake face of Gerard who felt like he wanted to throw up.
“Fever Blister put us on the trail and we caught the prey. He’ll watch my triumph. But before that… Look how well this is done… so meticulously done… Of course, not like the masks of Mirk the Scarlet… Because those are life itself, and no one will be able to tear them off the faces upon which they will be magically grafted. This one is a technical miracle, but only technical, not true magic. And now, this miracle is going to disappear before our eyes...”
Gerard cried out in pain. Mirk had just torn off some of his plastic swelling allegedly caused by sulfuric acid. The scarlet clown held it up in his crooked fingers squealing more than ever.
Lina, Crucifer and Miss Mahlia leaned forward too and Gerard saw, above his face, their horrible, hostile, menacing faces. And he screamed. He screamed like an animal while the scarlet clown, with precise, inescapable movements, tore off the shreds of make-up painstakingly applied by Teddy Verano.
CHAPTER XIV
The screams woke Agnes from her slumber.
She had ended up dozing off, dazed by horror, fatigue and the excessive nervousness that had assailed her since the tragic night when she had agreed to watch over poor Claire. It had been a constant nightmare since then.
They had taken care of her, but she remained in shock after the wake. With the slightest glimmer, with the faintest glint of light, she kept seeing the crazy flashes that had captured the face of the deceased. They had interrogated her. Then her furious father had ranted against everyone. Doctors, journalists and even the police. Agnes, with her health shaken up, her mind shaken up, experienced all this in a kind of constant horror. Until last night…
Lying in bed, she had smelled that same strange odor, just like when the photographer of the dead had broken in. Then, nothing.
Until she woke up in this weird room, draped in black, with the permanent odor that she did not recognize, but was obviously chemical. She had seen only one person: her jailor, the chinless woman.
To her questions, the bizarre creature had given curt answers. She had simply said that “this would not last long,” that “they needed her,” and that she ought to “stay calm.” Otherwise, she just kept watch over her, giving her something to eat twice a day.
Agnes, however, had barely touched her food. She was not hungry, only thirsty. They let her have some fruit juice and she lived off the Pam-Pam for now. Finally, she was able to get a little rest until the man had started screaming.
In her nightgown, Agnes curled up on the bunk she was on.
“I’m scared… I’m scared…”
The poor child, feeling her mind waver more and more, wondered what this all meant.
The chinless woman showed up, but this time, she was not alone. A man was with her. A small man. A twisted man. Very ugly ,with extremely bright eyes. Moreover, his fingers were stained with blood.
When she saw him, Agnes opened her eyes wide and from her throat sprang out a loud cry of horror:
“Him! Him!”
She recognized him. In spite of her confusion, the poor girl had no doubt. She had seen this gnome only once before in her short life, but under such circumstances that his face could never be wiped from her memory: he was the cursed photographer who had bombarded Claire’s remains with flashes.
The chinless woman never showed any emotion. Her ravaged, dismal face and her toneless voice expressed no hint of humanity. She did not look at all troubled by Agnes’ attitude. She came forward holding out her hand.
“Come with us,” she ordered.
“No!” Agnes screamed without knowing why.
She did not know. She no longer knew. She would never know anything. She was living in fear, that was all.
The woman and the gnome looked at each other. They stepped forward together and grabbed her as she screamed louder.
“Leave her alone, you idiots. Don’t you see you’re scaring her.”
They moved away and Agnes saw who had just spoken. She came in, looking very beautiful in her blonde wig and black mask hiding her face. She smoked a cigarette as she walked, swaying her hips, perhaps well practiced but perfectly delightful.
“Leave me alone with her for a minute. I want to talk to her… so she’ll understand.”
The hideous creature and the dreadful little man disappeared. Agnes saw nothing in front of her but this beautiful woman who was, unfortunately, masked. The stranger came and sat casually on the edge of the bed.
“Come on, Agnes…”
Agnes was not screaming anymore. She was taking short, tense and troubled breaths, feeling captivated by the charm that emanated from this newcomer.
“Agnes, I hope that I don’t scare you. Let’s make a little effort. Just say so…”
With her mouth open, Agnes watched this woman who was trying to be so friendly, but she could not believe that she was any more humane or less harmful than the others, since she was apparently living with them.
“Agnes…” Her voice sounded sweet and the pretty, sensual lips smiled, almost mimicking a kiss. “Agnes, you have to come with me. And obey me.”
The young woman made an effort to talk.
“I… But what do they want with me?”
“I need you, Agnes.”
“Me? But I’m nobody.”
“I need your beauty, Agnes.”
The pretty, long, slender hand reached out and caressed the poor girl’s face, but she recoiled.
“So beautiful, my pretty. Am I really so repulsive?”
“No… no….”
“Well? Your beauty, Agnes, your beauty does not belong to you alone. Think, Agnes, think about the women who are ugly… like the one who just left… Think about so many others who don’t have your luck to be so pretty. Don’t you want to share a little with one of them?”
In spite of
her confusion and her naivety, Agnes found these words frightening.
“But it’s… it’s not possible. I can’t....” she stammered,
“You can, Agnes. You can give away your beauty.”
Instinctively, without understanding, Agnes cried out:
“I don’t want to!”
The masked woman had a big smile.
“Selfish little girl… you want to keep all your beauty to yourself.”
Agnes was trembling. Now this seductive woman was starting to make her even more scared than the two others.
“I want your beauty, Agnes. I want your face. No, I’m not mean… and I want to be even better. I’ll wear your soul on our face. If I had a face like yours, Agnes, I’d be good, very good...”
She reached out her hand, affectionately, over the bed and touched Agnes’ knee, but she recoiled again.
“Come on. Let’s go and get this over with.”
“No, go away!”
“I’m staying, Agnes. Because you have to give me your beauty so that I can become better. Don’t force me to repeat this.”
“But,” Agnes cried out from the depths of her despair, “if you want to be good, it doesn’t have to be difficult.”
“Humans live with their masks of flesh, Agnes. Your mask is beautiful and good. Give it to me and I’ll be beautiful and good.”
“Then you’re not?”
The innocent cry came from her heart. The masked woman’s smile grew bigger, turning it into a grimace.
“I’m not. Although, through you, I will become so.”
“But who are you then?”
She bounded to her feet, straightening up her magnificent body in front of Agnes.
“Who am I? You want to know?”
Leaning forward she raised her hissing voice.
“I was beautiful too, once. I wanted to play with my beauty and control the world. For this, I signed the most terrible of all pacts. I played… and I lost. But I can still win another round. Who am I? I am evil. I was beauty and I became the beauty that destroys… and then… But what does it matter? You want to know my name? Poor little girl! If, like everyone else, you watch television… then you’ll know my name: Mephista! I am Mephista!”
Stupefied, Agnes screamed:
“Mephista?... But Mephista is a character played by Edwige Hossegor…”
The masked woman laughed raucously.
“Idiot! Edwige Hossegor is but the actress who plays Mephista on the screen. Me, I’m not an actress, I am Mephista herself... the true Mephista.”
Agnes shivered, and told herself that one of them must have been crazy, if not both. She asked again:
“But why my face?”
“That’s enough!” Mephista shouted.
With her strong grip, she grabbed Agnes and dragged her off the bed, but could not dodge her quick action.
All of a sudden the girl reacted unexpectedly and tore off the mask…
In the other part of the trailer, where he was struggling behind his gag, with his hands and feet tied, totally immobilized, no longer screaming, with all his clever make-up torn off, Gerard heard the pitiful cry of Agnes. He knew perfectly well that it was the kidnapped girl—it could be no one but her.
And he saw her enter the room, pushed by Miss Mahlia, or rather Mephista, a Mephista who quickly re-veiled her monstrous face that had been destroyed by the fire at the red mass, when Olga was punished for having made a pact with the Devil and had managed to escape the blaze, but by becoming this monster.
Lina, Crucifer and Mirk all grabbed the girl and laid her on a kind of ironing table covered with a big, white sheet. While the lion-tamer and musician tied her up and gagged her like Gerard, Mirk set up a system of mechanical arms over her, which, Gerard saw, held flash bulbs and cameras.
Teddy Verano’s stepson had heard fragments of the strange conversation between Agnes and Mephista. Despite the missing pieces, despite his distressing situation and the presence of Mirk, Lina and Crucifer, he had been able to fill in the missing pieces of the puzzle, as his stepfather and boss would have done in his place.
Mephista. It really was Mephista.
And these lunatics, these fanatics, in some extraordinary ceremony that was both photographic and diabolical, now thought they could take Agnes’ beauty and give it to Mephista, who no longer had a beautiful face and who wanted to change her soul by changing her face.
If Teddy Verano were here…
He, too, would have understood everything and instantly grasped the truth. He would have been especially useful in coming to help Gerard, whose face was bleeding. Even if the wounds were only superficial, they were still painful.
And coming to help poor Agnes even more. For Agnes was in danger. And what a danger!
The monsters were getting their victim ready. Gerard, on seeing this, was choking on his gag, twisting and turning on the wooden planks. To calm him down, Crucifer kicked him hard in the ribs.
The scarlet clown had a weird grimace on his face—his way of laughing.
“This charming young man whom our precious fortune-teller caught… He wants to know the truth. Now there’s no harm in telling him what’s going to happen.”
“Hold on,” the tamer said. “The girl… do we put her to sleep?”
Gerard got frightened when he heard these dreadful words:
“Put her to sleep? You’re joking, Crucifer… I told you that I want to take her picture and stick it on the mask at the very moment of her passing away. How do you figure on seeing this moment when a human being passes from life onto death if the subject is asleep?”
His squealing voice with horrifying undertones continued:
“She must be awake.”
Gerard heard Agnes groan behind her gag. He knew that some awful drama was about to play out, that something abominable was being prepared. He wanted to react. He writhed in his fetters. But he could not do anything, not even scream out.
Who would come, anyway, except the circus folk around the trailer where the tragedy was unfolding? Monsters, all accomplices of the scarlet clown whom they hoped would redo their faces too, and for this, undoubtedly, they had helped him photograph Claire’s corpse, dig up Viviane’s coffin, and kidnap Agnes and bring her to this abominable laboratory.
Mirk flashed some bulbs, tried out different angles, and shifted the cameras. He came back to Gerard, leaned over and sneered:
“You wanted to know? Look!”
He showed him one of the wonder masks molded in strange material that he had taken out of the black chest. It looked like Agnes.
“Well done, eh? Lifelike… or almost. Thanks to the Polaroid, I can capture her features at the final moment of her life, and transfer it immediately onto the mask. And it will come to life. It will have her life. And I’ll give the living face to Mahlia, who will become what she wants to be… another woman.”
Gerard, half-suffocating, struggled in vain.
“Done talking?” Crucifer asked angrily.
Mephista stood motionless, chain smoking and staring at the face of poor Agnes, who heard everything as well.
Mirk went back to the deadly table and continued,:
“The big moment… the great passage… Let’s get ready!”
Lina turned off the light. The inside of the trailer was only lit now by a small lamp tinted purple.
The scarlet clown announced:
“Silence! The technology that I’m using is fine… but, you understand, that it’s not enough to capture a life that’s in between two universes. I need… something else, someone else... I have to evoke someone.”
Gerard had difficulty seeing, but he glimpsed Mephista. She was trembling under her mask. No doubt this evocation of some kind of evil spirit was bringing back particularly terrible memories for the failed movie star.
Mirk was now making incantation gestures over Agnes’ prone body. He was chanting words that Gerard could not understand, but that must undoubtedly have come from the kabbalah or ot
her infernal dictionaries.
As Teddy Verano had told him, occultists turn insane easily when they begin to court infernal powers, summon evil forces that they think they can control, and, along with everything else, they lose their sense of the ridiculous.
But the ridiculousness of the situation did not make Gerard lose sight of the tragic side, especially concerning poor Agnes.
The scarlet clown must have finished his fiendish prayer. He said a few more words that Gerard did not understand, but the young man realized that, leaning over Agnes, Lina was cutting away the top of her shirt with a pair of scissors, baring the young woman’s breasts.
Something appeared in Mirk’s hands. Gerard was blinded. A cold flash. The glint of a long, steel needle.
Gerard heard the victim utter another otherworldly groan through her gag.
Crucifer, Lina and, above all, Miss Mahlia were holding their breath, gathered around the scarlet clown. Holding in one hand the knob that worked the camera, after adjusting it correctly, the little monster held the steel needle in the other, raising it up, pointing directly over Agnes’ heart.
Then, he slowly lowered it.
The point touched the skin and punctured it.
A drop of blood bubbled out.
Agnes twisted in her straps, but they held her tight.
Gerard thought that he was going to die of horror. He guessed, more than he actually saw, but followed everything with a frightfully clear mind.
Suddenly, a racket sounded outside and they heard the wild animals growling and snarling in their cages, sensing danger…
CHAPTER XV
Fever Blister was fighting against her visions, and Arsène was scared, trying in vain to calm her down, to negate the effects of his mediumistic tricks. But the little mummified woman, endowed with exceptional sensitivity, marvelously prepared for clairvoyance, would not stay still.
“I see them… I see them… They’re going to do something horrible… They’re going to spill blood…”
At the request of Crucifer and Mahlia, Arsène had magnetized his partner and “Madame Vassia,” docilely, had plunged into the arcana of the mysterious subconscious that clairvoyants possess. That was how she had detected the enemy presence in the circus. She had specified that he wore a mask, and it was not very hard for Crucifer, Mahlia and the scarlet clown to figure out that the young man, the so-called Jacques, the vitriol victim, was the prime suspect.
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