by R. R. Virdi
“Stop!” I barked. It did. The sinuous motions ceased. The tendrils stopped just below her bottom lip.
“Poor girl,” Gus said, forcing a pitiful example of a sympathetic frown. “You have no idea what she’s seeing right now.”
“Bastard.” I flexed my fingers as I controlled myself. Lengths of iron rods stiffened in my arm. I wanted to drive it right into his face. Not that it’d do any good. “If you hurt her…” My throat contorted. It felt like the muscles in my neck were cement that had begun setting. “There will be nothing stopping Ortiz from ganking your Pillsbury Doughboy ass!”
The phage bristled, taking a step forward. It stood face to face with me. “Nothing except me,” called Gus from behind.
I leaned to the side and looked past the creature to Gus, then back to the phage. I blinked as it registered. “You’re not just an illusion. You’re its voice, aren’t you?” Gus moved to the side, back in view and fixed me with a look that said I was a moron.
“Obviously,” he answered.
Dick whistle.
“Pretty impressive. And here I thought you were a mindless shit for brains.” I grinned. That wasn’t wholly true. I was aware Babylonian phages were just as intelligent as humans. They just couldn’t speak, or so I thought. That theory went down Hindenburg style thanks to Gus. “Why is she still alive?” I jerked a thumb over my shoulder to Lizzie.
Both the phage and Gus let their heads fall to the side in unison. One of its thin limbs slithered into motion, pointing toward the unconscious Katherine.
“Her?” I frowned in disbelief.
Gus intertwined his fingers, folding his hands. “Yes, she is my mother after all.” He gave me a flabby smile. I was tempted to roll my eyes, but that would’ve meant taking my sight off the phage for a second. I reconsidered. “Katherine and I have formed a wonderful mother-son relationship over the decades. I looked out for her, gave her what she wanted—a relationship with her son. To watch him—me—grow up. To be happy, to be with her, to have some form of family. In turn, she did what any good mother does; she took care of her son. She kept me safe. Kept me fed.” His smile grew wider.
Fake Gus continued to speak on the phage’s behalf. I let it turn into white noise. I honed in on a single word: decades. The freakazoid had been skulking through the asylum for tens of years. The number of people it could’ve taken in that time made me wish the stake was back in my hands.
“Katherine dreamed of extending that family,” the phage continued via its spectral puppet.
Ortiz glanced at Lizzie. “She wanted a daughter.”
“Like any good son, I gave Ma what she wanted.” He emphasized the Ma with an exaggerated southern drawl.
You could’ve bridged the gap between the phage and my nose with a penny. We were that close. I decided to get closer. I could almost feel the phage’s skin against the tip of my nose. “She was broken!” I roared. “Do you understand that? Broken!” The lining of my throat went raw. “We saw her in the Neravene. She looked like glass that had been put back together too many times. Fishing line cracks—broken!” I shouted again. “And you kidnapped a little girl with the intention of giving her to a madwoman?” I jabbed a finger toward Katherine’s limp form. “What’s she going to do with Lizzie? She can’t take care of herself. She’s attached to a projection of her dead son. And she has to know—doesn’t she—on some level deep down, that Gus is dead and not coming back?”
His grin grew, forcing the fat in his cheeks to press against his eyes until they became slits. “Of course, but you humans have always been adept at deluding yourselves. You’ll tell any number of outrageous lies in order to believe what you want, what you can. You’re adept at making the irrational—rational. Katherine Robinson wanted—needed—to believe that her son didn’t die. I helped her do that. Now she pines for a daughter. I’m helping her get that.”
“Yeah, you’re a real flippin’ saint, if you take away the fact you’re a murdering monster.”
“Monster?” Gus replied, a wry look on his face. “I’m giving a broken woman hope, keeping her together. What do you think her state would be without me? I’m giving her the family she wants—giving the girl the family she needs. I’m fully aware of Elizabeth Haylen’s story.”
Hearing that monster say Lizzie’s full name made my spine feel like a phone had vibrated between the discs. “Yeah, what story is that?” I released a guttural snarl.
“I know what she sees, the loss of her family. She’s as broken as Katherine, as broken as any other person in the asylum. As broken as you.” The phage motioned to me with another tendril. A row of curved edges disfigured it. A mouthful-sized chunk was missing. “Oh,” he trailed off, noticing my gaze. “This?” He raised the damaged tendril for Ortiz and me to see.
“Are those…teeth marks?” Ortiz shot a quick look from the tendril to me.
“School of McGruff,” I quipped. “Take a bite outta crime!” I gave the phage a feral smile that was all teeth.
The phage’s posture went rigid like a steel pipe had gone through its back. Guess I struck a nerve. It’s been known to happen. “I planned on making you suffer for that. To subject you to hours of your worst fears. Watch your mind and sanity crumble, your blood become engorged in endorphins—”
“Endorphins,” I whistled. “Pretty big word for something that looks like Jack Skellington sans the pinstripe suit.” Come on, Graves, figure something out! I told myself, trying to keep the phage talking until either Ortiz or I managed to find a way to free Lizzie. “I don’t suppose if I check out your backside I’ll find Tim Burton’s hand up your ass?”
For the first time, it was the phage, not Gus that smiled. It was a strange thing to see on its face. Its feather-thin lips stretched, pulling the skin tight on its face. A dry succession of breaths came from its mouth like a dying man’s coughs. Was it laughing?
“I was going to peel the layers of your psyche away, piece by piece, until nothing but a drooling shell was left. But, standing here, despite your flippant nature—”
Flippant. That’s me.
“I’m going to let both of you go.”
“Ah, what?”
“Provided you leave Elizabeth here, and you two leave the asylum, I will let you leave with your lives and minds intact.”
Oh sure, it was one hell of an offer. Ortiz and I get to leave perfect and whole. No mind fuckery, no facial probe session. Nothing. All we had to do was leave a vulnerable young girl—one who’d lost her family—in the hands of a monster. Leave her with a madwoman who helped a walking nightmare kill people and feed on them. All I had to do was turn tail and walk out on a friend. Yeah, the phage was doing me a big fucking favor.
“You’ll be doing her a great service. Her mind is a wreck. Now, go on,” he ordered on behalf of the phage, clucking his tongue like urging a horse to trot off.
I don’t know whose knuckles cracked louder—Ortiz’s or mine.
“I’ll do my best to put her back together. Do you have any idea the fears she harbors?” he asked, his voice rising in pitch. He sounded like a kid on the verge of spilling an exciting secret. “Do you? Do you want to know what buttons I can push to make her—”
He never finished the sentence. The phage couldn’t move as fast in tight quarters, and I was grateful for it. I felt the impact from the wall shoot through phage’s body and up my spine as I drove it into the concrete. Charles’ body wasn’t built like a linebacker, but I knew how to hit like one. One of my supernatural perks.
“Ortiz! Get Lizzie out of that crap.” I held the phage pinned to the wall. Somehow—bad luck, I wager, the phage’s head didn’t cave in as I had hoped. It ricocheted off the wall, but the creature’s skull remained whole. A fire built in my muscles as I held the phage’s arms tight. I didn’t need it swiping at my face with those elongated digits.
Tendrils moved with sinuous grace. Some lashed themselves around my arms. Python-like constriction made my limbs feel like twisted hoses about to burst. A
nother tendril slipped around my neck.
“Glurk!” I gasped as the noose tightened.
I registered Gusbert’s ham-like fist arcing toward me and pushed it out of my mind. The heavy hand sailed through my temple with no effect. Even the phage looked stunned. For a monster with not much in the way of facial features, that was some feat.
I jumped and pulled my knees to my chest. My feet connected with the phage’s chest and threw it back into the wall. It loosened its hold. I exhaled as the ground welcomed me with a chest bump.
I rolled over to face Ortiz. Lizzie’s body hung lower on one side, protruding further from the nest of tendrils on the wall. Ortiz had hacked most of the material away. A little more time and Lizzie would be free. Just a little more time, a little longer of a tussle with tall, thin and scrappy.
Wonderful.
The phage lost no momentum after my drop-kick to the sternum. It was over me in a second. A fist hammered into my back as I tried to recover. The floor gave me another rough embrace. I was having my ass kicked more by the frickin’ ground than anything else. Sounds like dried glue being peeled filled my ears as I lay on the floor. Ortiz was tearing Lizzie out of the phage’s filth. Twisting, I snapped out with my legs, scissoring the monster. With a roll, I sent the creature falling to the ground alongside me.
Nothing should have been able to have its neck bent at an angle like that and survive. The phage’s head was twisted forty-five degrees to the right and folded toward its shoulder. With an abrupt twist, it spun to its feet, making a show out of slipping its neck back into proper alignment.
Great. I’m dealing with a Hot Topic and Gumby love child.
“Got her!” Ortiz yelled and a fresh surge of adrenaline hit me. Lizzie was safe. Game on.
Roaring, I sprang to my feet a bit too fast and felt something twinge along my torso. I ignored it and pivoted with my hips. My fist sailed up toward the phage. Tissue strained as my blow failed to connect, leading my arm to hyperextend. My socket screamed. I whipped my head to the side. Ortiz laid Lizzie on the ground, a safe distance from the limb-infested wall. Since the phage hadn’t carried through on its threat to Lizzie, she’d recover.
Capitalizing on my brief lapse in attention, the phage wrapped its fingers around my chin. If my mouth weren’t open, my teeth would’ve ground to dust. I was flung to the side. Hot agony and static pulsing coursed through my shoulder. No screams left my mouth as the joint popped. All I managed to do was wheeze.
I don’t possess the ability to sling fire, freeze things solid, or flatten someone with pure magical force. My only ability is to be a supernatural heavy bag. They hit. I take it. I heal and get back up for more. That’s easier said than done. Two options were present. I could let my shoulder heal on its own. Or I was left with an immediate option. A painful one.
Ortiz leapt into the fray, stabbing with the stake. The phage, fixated on me, blurred into motion to avoid it. It failed. A sound like a crackling fire came from its shoulder. The tip of the stake glanced the creature, removing a golfball-sized lump of meat. A rush of air left its lungs, sounding like a dying hair dryer. The skin around the area morphed from white to charred black. Veins bulged under its tight skin, colored and pulsing like earthworms. The creature’s body jerked like a marionette controlled by an amateur. It wasn’t a killing blow, but I’d take it.
Seizing the moment, I repositioned myself to face the wall. I sucked in air through my teeth and braced. All it took was a sharp twist. My shoulder impacted the wall. I let out a dog-like whimper as my joint slammed back in place. Fingers waggling, I was satisfied that I’d done it right. I balled my fists and joined Ortiz.
She kept the phage on the defensive. The tip of the stake darted in and out like a fencer’s sword. The monster was left with no option but to bob and backpedal.
“Nah-uh,” I snapped as I blocked the exit. The last thing we needed was to give the freak room to maneuver. Not to mention the added darkness of the hall. Four of its slender limbs propelled toward my face. “Aiyah!” I yelped as I fell to a crouch, grabbing the creature by the waist. Feet scrabbling against the floor, I pushed, hoping to drive it back. And maybe, if I was lucky, into the stake Ortiz wielded.
The phage displayed the most impressive form of contortion yet. It split its legs at grotesque angles. The creature sunk out of my grip. Its torso twisted and its back pressed flat to the floor.
Those Cirque du Soleil acrobats had nothing on this monster.
It may have been too quick and nimble for me, but not for Ortiz. Flipping the stake in her hand, she dropped her weight, coming down fast. The phage twisted again, trying to slip past her strike. The stake didn’t cut the phage. It slipped between the pencil-thin lengths of tissue connecting its mouth. A predatory smile spread over Ortiz’s face. She wrenched the stake.
Forget nails on a chalkboard. The scream coming out of the phage’s mouth was an entire nursery of kittens shrieking in unison over school desks being dragged across the floor. It doubled over and pawed at the area where the skin had been torn.
“Ehyuck.” Ortiz’s features twisted as she held the stake at a distance, shaking off the bits of tissue clinging to it.
The phage’s frantic motions ceased. Its posture tightened as its freed lips peeled back. Gus’ image flared in the far corner of the room, reminding me of a flickering screen. The creature’s body quivered like a feral dog about to attack.
Guess it was pissed Ortiz did a number on its mouth.
“I am going to break your minds!” Gus seethed on behalf of the phage. “Tear away every layer of sanity you possess. Leave you broken—hollow things. Unable to function, to slip away from an eternity of horrors!” The phage matched his enraged motions.
That was a bit of an overreaction.
The phage blurred. Its claw-like hand reached for Ortiz. Contrary to belief, time does not slow in those moments. It hurtles past, leaving you burdened with trying to register what’s happening. Two lightning-like steps were all it took for the monster to cross the distance between it and Ortiz. Pale fingers gripped her face, covering most of it. With an equally swift motion, it snapped its arm forward.
I dove, arms outstretched, hoping I’d acted in time.
Ortiz crashed into me. A rounded edge glanced off my ribs followed by pain. Lots of it. We hit the floor, tumbling. Every one of my joints felt like they were being rattled apart as we rolled. After the concrete floor had done its job pummeling us, we came to a stop a foot from Lizzie’s prone form.
The corners of my eyes felt like they had been swabbed with rubbing alcohol. They burned and blurred near the edges. My field of vision narrowed and wobbled out of focus. Ortiz rocked within my grip.
“Hey.” I shook her gently. “You good?”
“Wonderful,” she groaned. “You?”
“Wonderful,” I groaned back.
“You had your chance,” Gus said, and I groaned a third time. Bad guys can’t stop talking. It’s like there’s an official rulebook for them and incessant talking is a staple. Some people just won’t shut up.
…Don’t look at me like that.
“I allowed you to leave and you spurned my offer,” he continued.
With a grunt, I worked my way up to my feet, steadying Ortiz as she rose alongside me. Her forearm tensed as she gripped the stake with renewed strength.
“Tell me,” Gus went on. “Is it worth dying over? Was she worth it?” He gestured to Lizzie.
“Yes.” Ortiz and I spoke in unison, our tones flat.
“Then die.”
“Didn’t you learn your lesson about flappin’ your gums?” I quipped. It was short-lived.
Myrk, black as wet ink and formless as fog, seeped from its tendrils. Its mouth opened, parting wider without the strands of skin between its lips. A series of pops like bubble wrap emanated from its jaw. A plume of Myrk billowed out from it.
A roulette of obscenities spun through my mind. We couldn’t slip past it. The freak was too agile and would cat
ch one of us. Lizzie was out cold. We’d have to carry her, making it harder to get out.
There are moments where two people without any outward signs of communication, have the exact same notion.
This was one them.
Ortiz and I rushed into motion. She went high. I went low. Running toward the mass of black fog, I set my shoulders hoping to take the phage’s legs out from under it. All I needed to do was keep it pinned while Ortiz drove the stake home. The first bits of Myrk hit us as we moved in for the kill. It was like hitting a brick wall at a hundred miles an hour in a frickin’ shopping cart.
The muscles in my legs turned to putty and I rolled forward. A violent red snapped through my eyes and the side of my skull glanced off the floor. Blackness all around me. I was in the middle of the cloud of Myrk. I couldn’t see Ortiz. I tried shouting for her. My mistake. Myrk sank into my mouth. It tasted like a mechanic’s rag. Hot bile settled at the base of my throat.
Then it hit me. Cold grease slipped into my skull, prodding my brain. The phage was making good on its promise. Numbness overcame me. It wasn’t the sort you feel when you’re out with too little clothing in winter. It was bone deep. Like an arctic pipeline straight to your blood.
“You’re going to die with this notion settled into your mind: that you are responsible for the death of young Elizabeth. That your arrogance is to blame for the deaths of all those occupying this building!”
Arrogance. Don’t you hate the gloaters?
Wait a tic. All those occupying this building? I realized its intent and couldn’t do a damn thing about it.
“I will reach out and touch every person’s mind, enter them, shatter them. I will dance through their mangled minds and over their broken bodies!”
A bit overboard there, Darth Megalomaniac.
“I will feast!” Gus finished as the creature slathered. The sound of water draining was audible. I could see something flickering at the edge of the Myrk. Urging my non-responsive limbs to move, I clawed at the floor. My fingers felt so distant I thought they would sink through the stone as I pulled. I crept out from the Myrk. Softened wood brushed against my skin. I grabbed the stake and rolled out from the hallucinogenic trap. My head reeled from the toxin.