by Oxley, Peter
It was their heads, arms, and legs, though, which were the most striking. My first reaction was that the design was incredibly accurate, but I revised my opinion as they drew closer. It was not so much that they were designed to look realistic, but that they were in fact human beings; or parts of them were at the very least.
The realisation came crashing down on me with a sickening force; Richard was indeed the cause of the disappearances that the villagers had spoken of. What was more, he had intended to use me as a source of parts for his hideous creations. I resolved to see to him as soon as we were free of this nightmare. For the moment, though, more pressing matters awaited.
N’yotsu moved back toward us, sword raised, and I stepped up to join him, my own blade joining his as a threat and a promise to that inhumanly human horde. One of the clockwork men reached out and grabbed N’yotsu’s left shoulder, twisting it in a grip which would have reduced a lesser man to tears. Without so much as a flinch, our friend thrust his sword into the creature’s chest, grabbed and pulled its hand, yanking it out of the socket with efficient ease. One more swing of his sword was sufficient to split the creature’s body in half and incapacitate it. “I think we are going to have to fight our way out of this,” he said as he raised his sword and pointed it at the advancing creatures. “Again.”
Kate raised her pistol, pulled the hammer back two clicks to engage the central, modified barrel, and then discharged it at the leering figure of Andras, who had been standing at the foot of the stairs, on the other side of the horde of ticking men. The demon roared and spun away, fleeing up the stairs in a trail of red smoke.
“Looks like that works,” she said to Maxwell. “Never doubted you for a second.” She pointed the weapon at the nearest automaton and fired again, but this time it had no effect.
“Aim for the heart,” shouted Maxwell. “Or, at least, where the heart should be!”
The noise and flashes of gunfire formed a backdrop to my own personal Hades, a blur of machinery, gears and corpse-like grins. I found myself keening as I swung and stabbed my sword, a high-pitched whining noise to remind myself that I was still alive and still human, an outlet for the sheer terror I felt at being confronted by such deliberately moving monstrosities in the dark, confined cellar.
The gunshots ended as they used the last of their bullets and Kate appeared next to me, wielding a metal poker which I recognised as the one which Richard had earlier used to lay me out. “Come on, then!” she shouted.
We faced the automatons, which were advancing on us with outstretched arms and humourless grins fixed on their faces. I wondered if there was any intelligence behind those eyes, or whether they were simply fashioned in an incredibly clever way. If it were the latter, the creatures certainly did a very passable impersonation of sentience, their eyes staring at us with fierce intent as they advanced.
“We stick together and work our way toward the door,” N’yotsu said. “Follow me.” He leapt forward and swung his sword, decapitating two of the automatons in one sweep. We followed, Kate swinging the poker whilst Maxwell used a table as a makeshift battering ram. My blade sang as it swept through the air, the ease with which it bit through metal and flesh alike providing me with a sickening form of comfort.
The sound of clockwork filled my ears as N’yotsu and I carved a path through the ticking bodies. The automatons’ faces merged into one as we battled through the crowd, desperately fighting off the claws which reached for us, threatening to drag us down to our doom. My shoulder was grabbed in an iron hard grip, spinning me round and pulling me down to the ground, causing me to yell in pain as my wounded arm hit the floor, then again as a booted foot connected firmly with my chest. I instinctively stabbed out with my sword at the nearest foot, removing it with the slightest motion. The automaton fell to the floor with a satisfying jerk and then reached for me with rigid, corpse-like fingers. I kicked hard at the rictus face—once, twice—and the creature went limp.
I felled another creature and then winced as my sword became unbearably hot. I left it protruding from the latest victim’s body and cast around for another weapon but, as I did so, a pair of hands grabbed me by my hair and pulled me backwards through the forest of jerking legs. I yelled as my head and shoulders bashed against the unyielding flesh of one after another of the creatures. I flailed out with my arms and managed to make purchase on some passing limbs, screaming as clumps of hair were torn out by my assailant.
I rolled over and attempted to lever myself to my feet but was thrust backwards once more by the advancing automatons, which walked over and through me in a relentless tide. I gasped as one of them grabbed my throat and squeezed. Colours and shapes floated before my eyes as I started to pass out.
The automaton pitched forwards and threw me to the ground, where I knelt and gratefully pulled in a few precious lungfuls of air. “Will you please keep up?” grinned N’yotsu as he clambered over the creature, stamping on its head. He held out his hand and pulled me to my feet. I retrieved my sword from the ground and followed him, my face reflecting the grimness I felt. Whilst the cellar could not have been more than a few hundred yards in size at most, it felt like a world-full of nightmares were stuffed down there with us.
Taking advantage of the momentum with which N’yotsu’s intervention had provided me, I elbowed away another pair of grasping arms, my forearm smashing into a metal chest. It felt as though I had backhanded a wall; my arm burned with pain and I yelled out. N’yotsu appeared beside me and slammed his fist into a slack-jawed face. I winced at the sound, the slap of flesh on metal, while the automaton staggered backwards and tripped over another of its fellows, causing both to fall to the floor. Others round them were caught up in this fashion so that in no time a pathway of sorts was cleared to the steps. As we passed, I noted the gibbering form of Richard and grabbed his shirt, pulling him up and thrusting him ahead of me. Whilst I was sorely tempted to leave him there to rot, we had some questions requiring answers, and I had some petty revenge to take out on him.
“Come,” shouted N’yotsu, jumping onto a metal chest and vaulting to the steps. We followed, kicking aside the hands which reached for us. Kate swung her poker at an oil lamp mounted on the wall, smashing it free and spraying hot oil and flames all over the automatons. By the time we were halfway up the stairs, the room was already blazing fiercely, the flames reaching up and around the hideous creations as they struggled to move their melting bodies. The stench of burning flesh was unbearable, but some had still managed to escape the flames and were following us relentlessly up the stairs.
We sprinted through the door and into the study. I was almost out of the room when I realised I had not shut the door to the cellar. I pushed Richard on toward the others and then stopped and turned, only to see the automatons just behind me. I yelped and ran, the tick-tock of their metallic hearts pursuing me through those endless oak-lined corridors.
N’yotsu and the others were nowhere to be seen as I fled, my legs leaden and my heart pumping wildly. I rounded a corner, threw myself into the nearest room and leant against the door, ears straining for the sound of my pursuers. The tick-tock of clockwork drew nearer and I held my breath, fighting to keep every inch of my body rigid lest the slightest motion betray my location. After a few moments I relaxed, the noise of those hideous pursuers having receded into the distance. The reassuring weight of the sword in my hand lent me some confidence, although I did not fancy my chances alone against large numbers of the creatures: particularly if I found myself in a situation where I should need to wield the sword to such an extent that its heat made it unusable. I silently cursed Maxwell for creating a fantastic weapon with such a fundamental weakness.
I looked around the room in which I found myself, my eyes adjusting to the darkness. I was in the dining room, which was now flawlessly laid out for breakfast; the incongruousness of this small dose of normality adding an extra layer of surreality to my situation. I felt my way along the wall, making my way toward the room’s seco
nd entrance. My shoulder bumped into the doorframe and I reached down, closing my hand round the doorknob. I opened it a crack and peered through.
A couple of maidservants were bustling round the next room, oblivious to the danger posed by the clockwork men, not to mention the fire raging below us. Stealth was no longer a consideration; I had to warn them of the danger they were in. I swung open the door and stepped through. “Now, please do not be alarmed,” I said, holding my hands up. “But you need to get out of this house, right now.”
The nearest girl looked up and then ran to the other door. “He’s here,” she shouted.
“What? No...” I said, and then stepped backwards as two of the clockwork men stepped into the doorway. Behind them wafted thick, black smoke. I looked at the maidservants. “What are you doing? Do you not realise what they are?” The girls looked at me with a malevolent blankness as they, together with the automatons, advanced on me. I remembered Andras’s words; clearly the whole household was under his thrall. I pointed my sword at the girls and then paused; I could not bring myself to attack them, regardless of whose purpose they served. The clockwork men, in turn, were too close to the maidservants to enable me to attack them without fear of also hurting the girls and so I backed away slowly, casting around for anything which would help me to escape.
I stumbled and grabbed a chair to regain my balance. Struck by a sudden burst of inspiration, I lifted it by the seat back and swung it, offering a silent prayer of thanks for the solid workmanship of the expensive furniture as it smashed through the windowpane. Not caring for my skin or clothing, I threw myself through the jagged hole and into the cold night air.
N’yotsu rounded the corner, followed by Maxwell and Kate.
“Thank God,” said Maxwell, helping me to my feet. We looked up at a splintering sound from the window. Half a dozen automatons spilled out, pursued by smoke and flames and the now-screaming maidservants. N’yotsu pushed the girls aside and then he and I set to the creatures, swinging our swords to devastating effect. I caught a glimpse of N’yotsu as we fought and saw that my jubilance at our destructive force was mirrored in his face; together we were unstoppable.
One of the automatons grabbed my sleeve and ripped it as it fell, skewered by my sword. As I retrieved my weapon to make ready for the next attack, I spotted a line of red on my arm which faded as quickly as it appeared. I blinked; for a split second I could have sworn that runic lettering was tattooed onto my skin, marks which were not unlike those etched into my weapon.
My brief moment of distraction was enough for one of the creatures to surprise me, a hard arm knocking me sideways and disrupting my balance. My sword wedged itself in the ground in my attempt to keep upright and I realised I was at the mercy of the creature. Before it could press home its advantage, the tip of a poker appeared from within the mechanism in its chest and it fell forward to reveal Kate, grinning triumphantly.
“Getting tired of always being the one to save you boys,” she said.
Maxwell helped me to my feet as we watched N’yotsu despatch the last of our pursuers. “That is a bit of a design flaw,” said Maxwell, looking at the creature which Kate had felled. “Some form of metal casing to protect the mechanism would no doubt solve that issue. I am surprised that Richard did not think of that...”
Kate and I glared at him and then pulled him away from the house as the heat started to grow from within. As we walked we collected Richard from where he had been sitting, gibbering and rocking on the grass.
When we reached a safe distance, I grabbed the collar of Richard’s shirt and pulled him upright, thrusting him against a tree. “What are they?” I shouted. “What have you done?”
“I’m sorry,” he said.
My final reserves of patience snapped away and I hit him with a hard backhand across his face. “Stop saying that! Now tell me what they are!”
“That... man. That... creature, told me how to make them, told me what to do,” Richard said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “They were so intricate, the mechanism so advanced. No one has ever created anything like them.”
“They are clockwork men, although I suspect there is some other ingredient besides gears and cogs which helps to animate them,” said Maxwell, appearing at my side. He glared at Richard. “So that is what you were working on all this time?”
Richard nodded. “But they are so much more than that. They are capable of...” He glanced around. “I did not mean to hurt people. I never wanted to hurt anyone.”
“Looks like you failed on that count,” said Kate. “If I’m not mistaken, you’ve been doing a bit of grave robbing to make up your little pets. Right little Burke and Hare, ain’t you?”
“Except it appears that you did not wait for them to be buried before you dismembered them,” I spat. “Or dead, for that matter.”
“You used real organic body parts,” said Maxwell. “That is... ingenious.”
“And extremely inhuman,” I said, glaring at my brother. “Each one is a dead person. You were going to use me for one of those! What kind of man have you become?” I clenched my fists, fighting the urge to beat him to a bloody pulp and only narrowly succeeding.
“Think it’s fair to say they’re properly dead now,” said Kate, eying the remains of the creatures on the lawn, as well as the mansion house, which was now burning steadily. The staff were retrieving effects from the house, although I was relieved to note no further automatons pulling themselves from the fire. Not yet, in any case.
“You should not have harmed them,” moaned Richard. “They were the culmination of years of work...”
“You lost your right to order us about when you started hacking people to pieces and sticking them to clocks,” Kate said. “You’re just lucky I don’t choose to use this on you as practice.” She waved the poker menacingly.
Richard looked aghast at Maxwell, who in turn shrugged his shoulders with a threatening grin. “Just can’t get the staff these days, eh?” he said. “But not right now, eh, Kate?”
“Should’ve let me hit him,” muttered Kate, lowering her weapon. “He’s really getting on my nerves.”
A shout came from the direction of the mansion house and we looked up to see Andras, once more assuming the butler’s form, pointing at us. “There!” he shouted. “They did this—and they are attacking the master!”
A dozen heads turned toward us as Richard laughed and clapped maniacally. “There is no escape,” he crowed. “He’s always there, one step behind you...”
I snarled at him and raised my fist, but Maxwell put a restraining hand on my shoulder. “Unless you fancy fighting off that lot,” he said, pointing at the maidservants and stablehands charging toward us, “we should run. Now.”
I nodded reluctantly and we set off through the grounds. “Max,” I shouted. “Do you still have your pistol?” He nodded and tossed it to me.
“It’s empty though,” he said.
“Do you have any more bullets on you?”
“Yes, of course,” he said absently, as though the thought had never occurred to him, and pulled a handful of bullets from his pocket.
I retrieved them from him and loaded the weapon as best I could as I ran, dropping a few but at least managing to get a couple into the chambers. As we rounded a corner I stopped and fired above the heads of our pursuers, noting with satisfaction that they all—including Andras—scattered to find cover. I turned and ran after the others, hoping that the distraction would buy us at least a few precious seconds. It was Andras’s influence which compelled the staff to pursue us, rather than some form of inborn evil, and I was unwilling to kill or injure them for what amounted to simple ill luck.
We reached the road and were relieved to see our carriage waiting for us. We threw ourselves inside and shouted at the driver to head off at full speed.
“That was a stroke of luck,” I panted as we watched the burning mansion house and our pursuers disappear into the distance.
“Not really,” said Maxwel
l. “I sent our man here out on a pretext after dinner and told him to wait here until dawn; N’yotsu and I suspected that we would need to make a hasty exit.”
“Do you have any more bullets?” asked Kate. Maxwell nodded and distributed handfuls to us both. We looked warily out of the windows as we reloaded the pistols.
“Do you think they will pursue us?” asked Maxwell.
“More than likely,” said N’yotsu. “I would if I were Andras; why let us get away with knowledge of his activities?”
“Mmm,” I said. “Although what should we do with that knowledge?”
“We tell the local constabulary,” said Maxwell. “This provides the answer to a number of heinous crimes. The police must be told.”
“Richard was a friend,” I said slowly. “But after what he tried to do to me, prison and hanging’s too good for him. Unfortunately, the evidence has likely all been destroyed in the ashes of the mansion house; it may come down to our word against his.”
***
My scepticism proved to be well-founded; after a less-than-thorough investigation which demonstrated the vast differences in capabilities between our own Metropolitan Police and their regional counterparts, the local Bobbies decided that there was no case to answer. Richard had been well regarded in the area and, as far as the police were concerned, no crimes had been committed; I found it utterly scandalous that the fears and accusations of the local villagers were swiftly batted aside as either petty superstitions or a failure to recognise that their kin had upped sticks and moved to the town. When I pointed out that the disappeared men had left without warning and had not taken any effects with them, the constable would still not countenance any connection to Richard. Our cause was not helped by our status as Southerners with no connection to Yorkshire, not to mention the complete lack of evidence to back up our case.
Once he had satisfied the police of his innocence, Richard and his staff left the county, ostensibly to find temporary lodgings whilst he contemplated the rebuilding of his home. We planned to pursue him, to ensure that he caused no further damage, but he surprised us by retreating under cover of darkness and, by the time we realised his absence, there was no trail to follow. Throughout all of this, Andras was ominous by his absence and it was with heavy hearts that we finally made our way back to London, no other sensible path available to us.