Cultwick: The Wretched Dead

by J. Stone

  Cultwick:

  The Wretched Dead

  By J. Stone

  Text copyright © 2013 J. Stone

  All Rights Reserved

  Additional Works

  Cultwick: The Sweeper Bot Plague

  Cultwick: The Science of Faith

  The Poison Princess

  The Untethered Demon

  The Displaced Planet

  Lockhart’s Legacy

  http://jstonewrites.blogspot.com/

  Cover Artwork Provided By

  Marjorie Davis

  xmarjoriex.md@gmail.com

  marjoriedavisart.blogspot.com

  For little H.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Chapter 1. Fiona and the Madhouse

  Chapter 2. Ryn and the Rebels

  Chapter 3. Crowley and the Council

  Chapter 4. Germ and the Smuggler

  Chapter 5. Vincent and the Bounty

  Chapter 6. Rowland and the Genotoxin

  Chapter 7. Ryn and the Turret

  Chapter 8. Pearl and the Mercenary

  Chapter 9. Fiona and the Slaughter

  Chapter 10. Rowland and the Corpse

  Chapter 11. Crowley and the Empress

  Chapter 12. Germ and the Pirates

  Chapter 13. Isabelle and the Aristocrat

  Chapter 14. Fiona and the Assassination

  Chapter 15. Vincent and the Slave

  Chapter 16. Rowland and the Reformed

  Chapter 17. Crowley and the Clairvoyant

  Chapter 18. Ryn and the Junkyard

  Chapter 19. Isabelle and the Stables

  Chapter 20. Fiona and the Experiment

  Chapter 21. Germ and the Sample

  Chapter 22. Rowland and the Biojunk

  Chapter 23. Isabelle and the Ball

  Chapter 24. Vincent and the Sheriff

  Chapter 25. Ryn and the Investigator

  Chapter 26. Fiona and the Collection

  Chapter 27. Crowley and the Deal

  Chapter 28. Isabelle and the Machine

  Chapter 29. Rowland and the Cure

  Chapter 30. Vincent and the Bar

  Chapter 31. Fiona and the Archives

  Chapter 32. Ryn and the Garden

  Chapter 33. Germ and the Treatment

  Chapter 34. Vincent and the Mine

  Chapter 35. Pearl and the Escape

  Chapter 36. Fiona and the Isolation

  Epilogue

  Prologue

  Far to the east, in the desert lands of Ankalara, soothsaying gypsies roam from city to city, reading fortunes and prophesying for anyone with coin to spare. Though not always perfectly accurate, their visions have proven reliable enough that not only do people trust the gypsies’ foresight, but word of their deeds actually spread all the way to the Cultwick Empire. Certain of their superiority over the desert people, the scientists of Cultwick conspired to scientifically recreate the effects of the gypsies through biosynthesis.

  The gypsies were known to regularly consume a local herb by the name of foroshish, so during the long war with their people, scientists from Cultwick began experimenting with the herb as well as the gypsies themselves. Using the sweeper bot plague that ravaged the empire as the excuse and the accompanying lottery subjects as test candidates, the transcribers injected varying amounts of the herb in an effort to recreate the clairvoyant properties of the gypsies. Rampant deaths followed the injections almost immediately. Among those to receive the serum, only a handful survived the day and only one ever displayed any foresight ability.

  The child that lived through the injection, code named SC-1, proved uncooperative and only ever teased his captors with hints of their futures rather than giving any actionable information. Not only did he prove to gain access to a foresight ability, he actually was able to witness moments from all of time - past, present, and future. He essentially was able to allow his mind to time-travel, while his body was trapped within the confines of his cell. Whether it was due to the experimentation addling his mind or a general lack of respect or fear for his captors, the boy refused to ever truly assist the empire in their endeavors.

  Naturally, there were dozens of attempts to duplicate his ability in more malleable and loyal subjects, but the boy remained the only living recipient of the foroshish-derived serum. After countless more deaths, the SC-1 subject and the serum that created him were both deemed a failure, and efforts to recreate the intended effects were abandoned by all parties. The subject himself was locked away in the dark recesses of the Center for Empirical Research and forgotten.

  Years passed, however, and a new batch of scientists came back around to the idea that if one individual could be given the ability, then they could certainly recreate the effect. Dr. Blake Norton headed up the endeavor, starting what he named the SC-1 Foresight Trials. Among his list of patients was Fiona Newton, fresh from the Bedlam Asylum psychiatric ward. Of the subjects he injected his serums into, she was the only to survive, but during her time in the center, she never once displayed an affinity for seeing the future.

  The second iteration of testing was scrapped, and Dr. Norton and the other transcribers then subjected Fiona to all manner of other experimentation. It wasn’t until one final procedure that Fiona’s mind was directly connected to Erynn Clover, the genius chromesmith, lottery winner, and heretic that ultimately led to the cure of the sweeper bot plague, that Fiona became aware of her abilities. Her alternate and somewhat more grounded personality, Newton, began to see visions of her future, which led to Fiona, the darker and more chaotic personality, taking advantage of them.

  After Erynn escaped the center thanks to her adoptive father, Professor Maxwell Rowland; his butler and assistant, Germ; and Erynn’s custom-built automaton, Tern, Fiona was compelled to follow them, as they fled toward the western frontier, where the Cultwick Empire’s law was scarce. Her journey westward enabled her to discover even more abilities that had been inadvertently bestowed upon her by Dr. Norton.

  After attacking and devouring the flesh of two bandits, Fiona learned that she was able to resurrect the recently deceased, taking control of both their bodies as well as their minds. Given access to their most secret memories, Fiona encouraged her pets to act out their darkest fantasies and satisfy the unrealized desires dwelling within them. Tapping into their minds, Fiona was able to know things beyond the limits of her own knowledge, including rebuilding her severed hand with the spare chromesmithing parts of the Pendulum Falls’ skyship factory.

  While out west, Fiona’s quarry, Erynn, had connected to the rebel organization, the Chromework Confederacy, and together, they had uncovered a long-hidden cure to the sweeper bot plague, locked away in the vaults of a prominent scientist working for the Cultwick Empire, Dr. Garland Webber. Along with a beautiful dance hall girl named Pearl Hicks and a bounty hunter, Vincent Rourke, who was plagued with disease himself, Erynn aimed to release the cure upon the whole of the Cultwick Empire. She had, however, been tracked west by a zealous operative of the Reclamation Bureau, Alice Page, who was also a devout member of the Church of Biosynthesis. Erynn would’ve surely died if not for Fiona’s intervention.

  After Fiona rescued Erynn by dropping the deadly operative onto the tracks of the railway and allowing the locomotive to dismember her, Fiona traveled back to Cultwick in the train. Greater and more malevolent thoughts pervaded her mind, as she pondered what to do with the empire that she so wished to see suffer. Thanks to Erynn and the rebels of the Chromework Confederacy, the sweeper bot plague was cured, but Fiona’s infection was poised to fill the void.

  Chapter 1. Fiona and the Madhouse

  “I can’t see!” Fiona shouted, echoing throughout the sewer tunnels running
underneath Cultwick. “The visions are gone! Newton won’t show me what happens next!”

  Fiona stood in the dark with what she had grown to call her pets, attempting to decide what was next for them. Her midnight-black hair had grown more and more disorganized and unkempt since escaping from the Center of Empirical Research and traveling west to protect Erynn from the empire. Her feet were bare, showing how torn and blistered they had become from the desert sands. She playfully splashed her toes around in the disgusting green waters that covered the sewer floors.

  Blood and oil still occasionally dripped down the intricate but crude metal design that she had built to replace her absent hand. Blood red stained scraps of Dr. Norton’s white lab coat fluttered down over the amalgamation of tissue and machine. Her dress had only grown dirtier from her time out west and the games she had played while acquiring her pets. She looked to them now for answers, but they were proving to be less creative than she desired.

  Her trip back to Cultwick had given her a great opportunity to bring in even more minds to her hive. The train cars full of trapped Cultwick citizens proved to be a delicacy that she was getting quite used to. Fiona estimated she had more than fifty minds roiling around inside her head.

  The crowd of expressionless, rotting faces looked back at her, as she launched into her tantrum. Despite their lack of emotion or response, however, each one of them returned to her an independent thought. She weighed each of them in turn.

  “Of course I could, Festus!” she yelled at one of the rotting faces.

  She turned her head to one behind her and shrieked, “There isn’t enough time, Ellen!”

  One of the anonymous animated corpses grunted something inaudible, causing her to pause. She toyed around with the thought in her head for a moment, considering its merits.

  “Something familiar?” she asked aloud. “If I took her someplace she’s been before... Somewhere that means something... But where?” Fiona mulled over the possibilities.

  The corner of her lip curled upward, as she decided what to do. She walked to the nearest manhole, climbing the ladder and pushing off the cover. A hint of moonlight descended past the buildings and touched her pale, blood spattered face, as she climbed onto the street.

  A fresh layer of snow covered the cobbled roads and ice hung from the windowsills of the towering buildings surrounding her. The structures all seemed to be packed tightly together, and there were few alleyways that one could easily walk down. Smoke rose in the distance, and the sounds of factories could be heard in the distance. Aside from a passing sweeper bot cleaning the street, the area was vacant and still, but she suspected that wouldn’t last for long.

  Fiona covered the manhole with the lid and left her pets behind. She began walking toward the familiar location, as the fresh, white snow slowly turned gray from the ever-present soot of Cultwick. The snow crunched beneath her feet, and she wriggled her toes around in it, the cold no more affecting her than the hot sands had. With each breath, she puffed out a fog of warm air, enjoying the rapid change in temperature.

  In the distance, atop a tall hill, Fiona could see the outline of Bedlam Asylum against the moon. It served as the primary medical facility in Cultwick and housed a large psychiatric wing that Fiona was kept in briefly before being shipped to the Center for Empirical Research.

  Though Bedlam was intended to be a place of healing, Fiona had always seen it as an ominous facility. Its black and grey roofs consisted of sharp points and steep arches that silhouetted starkly against the winter night sky. Carved stone gargoyles glared down from their perches, making Fiona feel like she was being watched. The complex consisted of multiple stories of a peeling, off-white paint and windows that were thin, flimsy panes of dirty, stained glass. The grass around the building was sparse and dead, and a graveyard of deceased patients sat behind an iron fence at the back of the institution.

  She had not been there in several years, and had never desired to return. Despite the mistreatment she suffered at the center, Fiona knew that Newton was more upset about Bedlam and one of the doctors there - Dr. Kathryn Magpie.

  It was she who caused Fiona to lose any chance of regaining her freedom. While it was true, that she wasn’t well when she went into Bedlam, Newton had believed that she could have been rehabilitated. During her time there, she met several other patients who helped her center herself and look to her future. With one simple medical procedure, however, Dr. Magpie extinguished all hope of Fiona ever going free or regaining a normal existence.

  Fiona spotted an open window on the fourth floor of the building, which she knew to be the psychiatric level. She jumped, easily clearing the first two floors, thanks to the excessive experimentation Dr. Norton had subjected her to, and grabbed ahold of a third floor window with her mechanical hand. After pulling herself up, she then jumped up to the fourth floor and climbed in through the window.

  Inside, the lights were off, so Fiona moved forward and inspected the room. It was the office of one of the doctors, but it had been left vacant for the evening. Rows of books lined a shelf, and a stack of papers cluttered an open rolltop desk against the wall. She found a list of patient names on a clipboard hanging from a nail in the wall, and she began reading through them.

  Fiona recognized a few of the names from her time in the facility, though many were new to her, and she made a mental note to specifically find the familiar ones. She threw the clipboard down to the desk and walked to the door. Hanging on the wall beside where the clipboard had been, she found a key ring, which would give her access to most of the rooms in the psychiatric center.

  Having found what she needed in the room, Fiona took the keys and left the office. She roamed through the darkened corridors, checkered with white and black tiled floors, looking for the patients’ rooms. She discovered that the area had been somewhat redecorated since her time there, but she was still able to easily locate the cells. The walls of one of the rooms she passed were lined with the paintings and drawing the patients were forced to do in one of their many group sessions.

  She slid a key into an iron slab of a grated door and swung it open, opening to her a long hallway of more iron doors, each with a sliding window at their top. She walked up to the first one on her left, slid the bar out of the way, and peeked through the hole. Inside, a woman was sleeping soundly with her head turned away from Fiona. Aside from the uncomfortable bed and a metal toilet in the corner, the white-walled cell was devoid of any furniture or personal touches. Fiona looked just outside the door, finding a patient folder inside a basket stuck to the wall.

  Flipping through it, she discovered the woman was Amelia Finch. The woman had been sent to Bedlam after she started a series of fires at abandoned warehouses throughout the city. Fiona remembered her from Newton’s time in Bedlam and wondered whether she would be enough to cause her alternate mind to resurface, bringing along her visions of the future with her. Regardless, Fiona thought that Amelia had a special mind that should be treated with respect.

  She sorted through the keys, slotting them unsuccessfully in the keyhole, until she found the one for Amelia’s door and opened it. Fiona walked in, quietly approached the woman, and pulled up the straps hanging from the side of the bed. She proceeded to quickly strap the pyromaniac to the bed, causing her to wake from her slumber.

  “What… what’s happening?” Amelia asked groggily.

  “Just a bad dream, deary,” Fiona responded. “It’ll all be over soon.”

  Fiona pulled a scalpel from the pocket of her lab coat and pricked the restrained woman’s finger. Amelia flinched naturally at the pain, but she was unable to move very much due to the engaged straps. Fiona then did the same to her own finger, and she knelt down on her knees at the side of the bed, placing the scalpel back in her pocket. She grabbed Amelia’s hand and placed her own bloody finger next to the young woman’s, swirling their blood together and giving her the gift that existed inside Fiona.

  Immediately, she felt her mind begin to burn r
ed hot, as Amelia’s mind was absorbed into her own. Fiona released the restraints from Amelia’s bed allowing her to stand. Together, they continued onto the next room, across the hall. The folder next to the door piqued Fiona’s interest immensely. The doctors had left the name blank, the patient history was empty, and the only symptom listed, strangely, was kleptomania.

  She unlocked the door and entered to find a completely drugged woman who was also fully restrained to her bed. Fiona was intrigued by this woman and by what could possibly cause her to be so overly shackled and sedated. She repeated the steps she had taken with Amelia, pricking her finger and merging their blood together.

  Fiona’s mind went foggy and scattered, as the drugs inside the woman’s body had complicated her capacity to think. She knew the woman was named Hazel Weaver, and that she had attempted many times, since her arrival at Bedlam to escape. Regardless, Fiona and Amelia released their new compatriot, and they continued to the next room.

  The next room belonged to Gretchen Reynolds, who could have been considered one of Newton’s friends during her time in Bedlam. Gretchen had been there longer than anyone Fiona was aware of, but she had never received a full story of her admittance. When Fiona brought Gretchen into the fold, her mind was filled with dozens of different possibilities for how she arrived in Bedlam, but each seemed as unlikely as the next. Fiona discarded them, uncertain of the truth, and decided that a bit of disorder could be beneficial. Despite Gretchen’s inclusion, Newton didn’t make a peep, and Fiona was forced to move onto the next patient.