The Singularity Cycle 02 Song of the Death God

by William Holloway

  Carsten didn’t say anything; he just sat on the edge of the bed.

  “So tell me, Carsten, unburden yourself. What brings you here? Shouldn’t you be out in the old servants’ quarters? What do you do in there?”

  “Well, that’s part of why I’m here.”

  This caught Uli mid-swallow, and he spat it out, laughing, making him cough. He said, “Oh, Carsten, I’m so sorry, it’s just something Karin said, that you must have some apparatus that you tie Ava up with in there… it was just so funny picturing you and…”

  “Her,” he finished much quieter, remembering what he and Greta did earlier in the day.

  Then Uli laughed, “So now that the cat’s out of the bag, please, do tell. Have you taken her yet?”

  Carsten somehow was at a loss for words, even though he had planned this.

  “Oh, don’t worry about it, Carsten. When you get out into society, you’ll forget all about the maid girls. So, what do you do out there?”

  Carsten whispered, “I’d love to show you.”

  Uli didn’t hear Carsten coming up behind him or see the slip-knotted cord until Carsten gave it a quick jerk and tightened it cruelly around his neck and wouldn’t let go.

  Uli tried to scream and tugged at the cord, cutting off his circulation, but this just depleted the oxygen in his veins all the faster. He ran back and forth in a ridiculous little circle and, for the first time in a very long time, Carsten laughed out loud. Uli slumped over, his face purpling, veins protruding on his neck, eyes bulging, and fell to his knees. Carsten smiled happily and brought his fist crashing down on the bridge of Uli’s nose, breaking it in a splat of blood and knocking him out cold.

  ***

  Uli awakened tied to a chair in the servants’ quarters, his mouth gagged, soaked in blood flowing from his nose. He was completely naked.

  Carsten stood in front of him, fascinated. He was looking at his brother’s body in a way he never had before. To him, Uli would be an experiment.

  Carsten and Uli faced one another, their eyes meeting in unspoken communication. Despite Uli’s wide, fearful eyes, what was communicated to Carsten was that this could still be a long night.

  Uli looked up at his brother and knew he’d underestimated him badly.

  To Uli, Carsten was an object of bookish derision. He wasn’t like Wilhelm, who was the center of attention due to his boorish and bullying manner. He wasn’t like Uli, who commanded fear with his razor sharp tongue. Both of Carsten’s brothers were bullies, one brutally thuggish and one sadistically sarcastic. But Carsten was like neither. He was quiet and thoughtful, introspective and unendingly curious, even kind. But somewhere along the way, that kindness had become extinct.

  Carsten put his fingers to his lips and said, “I’d appreciate it if you did not yell, Uli.”

  Then he untied the gag in Uli’s mouth.

  Uli spat it out and screamed, “Untie me now, you goddamned pissant! Now! You fucking piece of shit!”

  Carsten looked at him, surprised, and said, “Why did you…” but was interrupted by Uli.

  “Fuck you! Fuck you and your slut peasant maid girl. I’m going to fuck her and her mother and fire them both! And you’re going to watch!”

  Carsten was not as wordy as his brother and tried again, “Uli, you don’t understand, I…” but again was interrupted by a string of profane promises of retaliation.

  Carsten stopped and looked at his shoes; something about this was not working. Uli went on barking at him.

  Carsten said, almost a whisper, “Uli, I’ve seen things…”

  Uli stopped yelling and said, “What did you say, you little shit?”

  Carsten said, “I’ve seen things… I followed you and Greta, and I need your help. I need to understand…”

  Uli sat silently for a full second and said, “So, you’ve been watching me and Greta… You’ve been watching Greta and me for a while. You want to understand.”

  A look of concern, and then something else, crossed Uli’s face. He visibly relaxed and said, “I understand, Carsten, I understand your curiosity. Are you interested in Greta or me… or both of us?”

  Carsten didn’t say anything; he had blanked out in confusion.

  Uli said, “I understand, little brother, it’s OK, come over here to me.”

  Then Carsten noticed that Uli had an erection.

  To say that Carsten was surprised would not cover it. He was repulsed.

  He said, “Uli, you and Greta are the stupidity that wrecks all things. You make me sick.”

  Uli immediately screamed, “Fuck you, you pathetic cocksucker. I offer you the best thing that could ever happen to you and you pull that? Well, fuck you! Let me out of this or I swear to God, I’m going to fuck your little tramp in the ass so hard that it kills her!”

  Carsten felt light headed. This was not going well. He had succeeded in scaring Uli, but not enough. He felt like he was going to vomit. He may have set in motion his own undoing.

  Carsten swayed on his feet, his eyes rolled back in his head and he went there.

  In his mind, he saw flashes of the last few days, of Angellika saying, “I know of the plain in your dream, I know the sky in your dream, now give me the rest of it.”

  He saw Ava crying, he saw Angellika leaning in to kiss him. He saw the Top Hat Man looking at him through those big black circular glasses. Then he saw the dream from the night before, and he was back in the dream, a waking dream, a vision.

  He saw the eternal stone plain. He was alone on this featureless brown-red stone expanse, extending to where the horizon met the sky. The sky was filled with those black boiling clouds. It seemed that he was completely alone.

  But as he looked closer, he saw that he was not alone…

  Very faintly he could see transparent views of people; they were there, then they were gone, vanishing almost as soon as they appeared, winking in and out of existence. They were all around him, a multitude filling the stone plain, then gone before they could be seen. There were millions of them, all completely unaware of him, all of them in a trance, as if waiting for something. They were almost all dressed very curiously. He recognized the garb of Romans, and Greek, and even Egyptians, but others he did not know at all. Some were in the attire of soldiers. Some wore nothing at all. There were Chinese, Indians, Africans… all of humanity was here.

  Then something changed.

  The clouds solidified into a plastic molasses mass, and began to coalesce, forming vile black tentacles miles in length. They thrashed, they writhed, they were noxious to view, an abomination. The ethereal forms flashing in and out of existence saw them, too, and were frightened. They covered their eyes and screamed soundlessly.

  Carsten alone was not afraid. A tentacle descended from the sky to him. The ghosts tried to scatter in their brief existences, but more ethereal beings took their place. But he held his arms up and allowed it to wrap him in a slimy embrace. It drew him into the writhing mass and pulled him through the center of the cyclopean coils.

  He emerged into a room of pure light. He was before a being of universal majesty and wisdom, on a throne of heavenly white luminosity. A god or an angel, robed in white and gold, a giant Roman statue come to life.

  He pointed to Carsten Ernst and spoke in his mind without moving his lips, “If you would receive my wisdom, be not afraid, be not deterred in anything; this is my truth.”

  Carsten gasped and stumbled, catching himself as he landed on the hard wooden floor. It took him a moment to understand what he was seeing. Uli was tied up in a chair in front of him, a barrage of insults and threats spewing from his mouth.

  Carsten put him there… Uli and Greta attempted a forced sexual tryst with Ava… Carsten needed money to go Prague and buy a book recommended to him by a gypsy…

  Carsten got to his feet. He was wobbly. Uli was still berating him…

  Carsten walked over to the corner to a coil of stout rope. Above Uli, there was a strong beam. He pulled its length over to Uli, a
nd his cursing took on a more worried tone. He tied an end of it securely around Uli’s ankles and threw the loop over the beam. Uli’s curses became more shrill, his pitch higher and more effeminate.

  After two minutes, Uli hung upside down, dangling before Carsten, the chair still attached awkwardly. Something about this didn’t suit Carsten’s sense of aesthetics so he cut the chair free.

  Uli now sang an entirely different tune.

  Carsten squatted in front of the inverted Uli, and grabbed him painfully by the hair on the back of his head.

  Uli said, “Please, Carsten, I admit it. I’ve been terrible to you. I wanted Ava for myself. I swear I’ll never do it again. Please, Carsten, for the love of God, let me down!”

  “How much money do you have, Uli?”

  “Is that what this is about, Carsten?”

  “It wouldn’t have been if you hadn’t put your hands on Ava, but your regard for me has got to change. Your money will be the penalty you pay.”

  Uli inhaled and tried to look resolute, “No, Carsten. You’ll never find it. And you’ll be sent to an asylum for the insane when this abduction comes to light.”

  “No Uli, you’re going to tell me where the money is, and you’ll tell no one of this, I’m going to make sure of that.”

  Uli, even hanging upside down, managed to scoff, “You’re going to kill me? I don’t think so, little brother.”

  “I really need to go to Prague to buy a book. It’s very important. Because of the way you’ve treated me and my property, you’re going to pay for it. You’re going to tell me where the money is, then I’m going to go get it and then I’ll let you down. And you’re never going to say a word about this to anyone.”

  “You’ll be in Bedlam tomorrow.”

  “Then I’m just going to need to figure out something truly persuasive!”

  Carsten walked over to the table, on which he had accumulated a sundry supply of tools. He found a large tin funnel. He walked back over to the dangling Uli, then walked around his back.

  Uli shrieked, “What are you doing?”

  Carsten spread Uli’s buttocks and shoved the funnel in his brother’s anus. He picked up a lantern full of hot oil. He poured it in the funnel. Uli screamed and screamed and screamed. A gout of hot oil ejected from the funnel. Curious, Carsten poured some oil on the floor and touched it with his fingertip. It was really hot!

  Carsten squatted in front of Uli’s dangling form again. Uli sobbed uncontrollably.

  “You know, Uli, you really are a disgusting specimen. Now stop crying and tell me where the money is.”

  “It’s in the… in the… you bastard… my ass… you bastard…”

  Carsten leapt up and punched Uli twice in the crotch. Then he grabbed Uli’s scrotum and squeezed it till the skin stretched tight over the testicles. He pulled a pin out of his pocket and stuck it into his brother’s testicle like a toothpick into a grape.

  He squatted back down and asked, “Uli, where is the money? I really need this book.”

  Uli was a dark shade of purple, having some kind of pain-induced seizure. Vomit poured from his mouth. Carsten grabbed Uli again by the hair and shook him. “Uli, do you want the pain to stop?”

  Carsten showed Uli the pin he had used to impale his testicle. He asked him, “Uli, do you want the needle again? I really enjoyed sticking that through. It’s a lot tougher than you’d expect. Kind of leathery when you’d expect it to be more like… well, I’m not exactly sure what I expected it to be like, but that’s not the point. My question to you, Uli, is whether you want me to stick this pin through your ball again? Or would you rather just tell me where the money is?”

  “Dresser, lower middle drawer, false bottom…”

  “OK, Uli. I believe you. Do you believe that I’ll stick this needle through one of your balls if you’re lying?”

  “Jesus, yes, please, God, Jesus…”

  “OK, Uli, I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere, OK?”

  Uli continued to groan.

  Carsten closed the door behind him and sprinted back to the house to Uli’s room. He tore the lower middle drawer from the dresser, dumped out the contents and felt around the bottom.

  Yes, here it was. There was a false bottom. Carsten understood at once. It wouldn’t stop a determined and skillful thief, but it would fool dolts like his sisters. There were about a thousand Marks in there.

  He searched Uli’s giant liquor cabinet and found a bottle of laudanum. He set it on Uli’s bedside stand. He sprinted back to the servants’ quarters. When he got there, Uli was unconscious. Carsten quickly lowered him to the floor so he wouldn’t suffocate. As the blood pressure in his head returned to normal levels, Uli began to awaken.

  Carsten studied him curiously.

  Consciousness was a strange thing, states of consciousness stranger still. Carsten watched Uli awaken to the horror of his pain, the terror of what had happened, to the confusion as his torturer observed him impassively.

  “Uli, I think we now have an understanding. Am I correct?”

  Uli began crying pathetically.

  “You have laudanum in your room; it will take the pain away. I’ll get drugs from the cabinet to prevent infection. You’re going to need to take them every day or you’ll certainly die. If you take them religiously, you’ll be back in circulation in a month. No one ever has to know what happened.”

  He continued, “But if you talk, if you retaliate, you have to think about what will become of you in society. To find out that the great Uli Ernst was buggered by his little brother… it would be the end of you.”

  Uli was now sobbing uncontrollably.

  Carsten said, “You have no right to blubber. You deserve this. Now what say you? Do we have an understanding or do you need more convincing?”

  “No, little brother, I beg you, no, please no.”

  “I’ll be leaving for Prague in the morning. I’ll make sure Ava keeps you supplied with laudanum and keeps the pills coming for the infection. You’ll be right as rain provided you never cross me again. If you do, it’ll be the pins again, Uli.”

  Carsten helped his brother gently off the floor, walked him into the house, and put him into his bed. As he’d promised, he dosed him with laudanum and gave him the pills to combat the infection that would surely develop.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Carsten sat in the window seat of a locomotive roaring across the German countryside headed towards Prague. He had considered the more expensive stopover in Vienna, but chose the economical route. Vienna was glorious. He had visited once, but alas, his mission called to him. They would switch trains in Regensburg, cross the border, and switch one more time in Plzen, then they would arrive in Prague sometime the following evening.

  The morning after his torment of Uli, he visited his father in his quarters. He was horribly hungover. All he did now was sleep and drink. His meals were brought to him, and he rarely left his room. Carsten told him he was going to Prague to see the university, as he was interested in their finance program. He told him he would be taking Karl and arranged for a substitute carriage driver to fill in for him. His father nodded and asked him if he needed any money. Carsten thanked him and told him no, Uli had been very generous.

  Carsten then searched Wilhelm’s room for the items he sincerely hoped were still there. Indeed they were: two Colt 1851 revolvers. Wilhelm bought them because a drinking friend purchased a set and Wilhelm couldn’t allow himself to be outdone. The day they arrived, he took Carsten out to the backyard and they shot several crates full of empty liquor bottles.

  Then Wilhelm went out drinking and forgot about them.

  Carsten asked Karl if he would come on this trip. He offered his regular pay and a bonus. Karl nodded and agreed. When Carsten asked him to carry the Colt revolvers, he understood that too. Karl knew his real job was bodyguard for a wealthy young man going off to engage in risqué behavior.

  When they arrived at their hotel, Carsten erupted in laughter. It was a bordello
. He told Karl that yes, he was here to break the rules but not that sort. Karl asked if he’d like to go to a more upscale venue. Carsten indicated that would be nice.

  They arrived at the Hotel Metropole, and the driver and Karl carried their baggage in. The man behind the counter looked unimpressed, but brightened considerably when Carsten’s billfold opened.

  Carsten explained in German that his father had assigned Karl as his chaperone to see the city before deciding to come to Prague for his collegiate studies. He told him he wanted to truly understand the city, and not just for the galleries and fine restaurants.

  The man asked if there was any destination to which he would like directions. Carsten said yes. Out of anthropological curiosity, he sought to understand the Romani. He understood there was a hive of these vermin and they had a regular carnival. Again, the man at the desk agreed; a study should be done to cure this plague of parasites.

  Carsten allayed the man’s fears for his safety, indicating that Karl was a veteran of foreign wars and had been rather severe when the gypsies stepped out of line in the past. The man behind the counter smiled again, bowing his head to Karl. Karl bowed back, discreetly displaying the revolver in his shoulder holster.

  He obtained a map of Prague and the man circled in ink the place where the carnival was being held. Carsten felt he’d regaled the man enough with his Germanic chauvinism and they went to their rooms.

  That night, Carsten and Karl walked the city streets for about a mile to find a modest carriage that wouldn’t stand out. Carsten explained their mission was to find this woman Piroska, and let her know that they had money and were interested in seeing real magic, specifically this “A tánc a halott lejárónyílás.”

  They found a carriage that was suitably unremarkable, and they were on their way.

  ***

  The carnival was unlike anything that Carsten had imagined. He felt like he’d fallen into the 14th century. It was wild, animalistic, crude and garish. On the very eastern edge of Prague, it was a city unto itself of brightly colored tents covered in strange symbols, lit from within by colored fires.