by J. Stone
Across the hall, Fiona found yet another mind, but she discovered that the woman locked in that cell was something of an enigma. Her name was Francesca Frazer, and her mind seemed to actively block Fiona’s attempts to access it. Not willing to waste too much time on it, Fiona accepted her into her mind and simply moved onto her next patient.
Gemma McCullough was housed in the next room, and Fiona felt a particular sadness for her story. Of all the women that had been confined within Bedlam, she was one of the least deserving individuals. Gemma had been a woman driven by her passions, and when Fiona joined with her mind, she felt inspired by her connection to her.
The next mind to be included was that of Hillary Verdan. She had been crippled in a horrific accident, costing Hillary the use of her limbs. Rather than be taken care of, she was admitted to Bedlam to be treated by the empire. Hillary’s life since the accident had proven itself to be always out of her reach, but with Fiona’s assistance, she would have a second chance.
Hazel and Gretchen assisted in carrying Hillary from her bed and into the hall. Fiona followed them, and when she exited the room, she heard someone clicking their heels on the tile floors. She instructed her sisters to hide in the rooms, as the footsteps came closer.
Peeking around the corner to another hallway, Fiona saw a familiar face - Dr. Kathryn Magpie. Her eyes were diverted down to a pad of paper, while she read through her notes. Fiona hid as well, and when Magpie turned the corner, she had her new sisters exit their rooms behind the doctor, while Fiona left her hiding spot and emerged at Dr. Magpie’s front, effectively surrounding the doctor from all sides.
Magpie’s face was covered with a black surgical mask, and her curly, black hair was tied up in two separate, loose buns on either side of her head. A pair of thin spectacles rested on the very tip of her nose, where the mask ended. She wore a red-button up shirt that was tucked into a tight, black skirt that went barely past her knees. Over this, she wore a traditional doctor’s white coat, which had several pens sticking out of the pocket.
“Dr. Magpie!” Fiona exclaimed down the hallway, startling the doctor and causing her to drop her pad of paper. “Can I call you Kathy? Yeah? Good!”
Dr. Magpie looked around to see the escaped patients besieging her from all sides. “Wha-- what’s going on? You all need to get back in your rooms. Now.”
“They’re not going to listen to you anymore, doc,” Fiona explained. “I freed them and now they only listen to me.”
“Who are you?” the doctor asked.
“Did our time together really mean so little to you, Kathy?” Fiona inquired.
Dr. Magpie adjusted her spectacles and strained her eyes, focusing on the woman standing in front of her. A wave of realization washed over her, and she took a step back from Fiona.
“You remember now,” Fiona said with a smile. “That’s good. I wouldn’t want what happens next to be misunderstood.”
“Are you threatening me?” the doctor asked.
“Not yet,” Fiona simply replied.
With a mere thought, the mental patients lunged for Dr. Magpie and dragged her into one of the rooms. There, they restrained her to one of the beds and then left. They surrounded Fiona, who was still standing in the hallway.
“My dear sisters,” she began. “I have made you all into something special. You are not like my pets, the mindless corpses now lurking beneath the sewers. You still feel hunger, as anyone would and should! When you find yourself craving that next meal, I want you to feed. I want you to spread our gift to all of Cultwick, starting with this hospital. Go! Go and feast!”
The women dispersed from the hall, spreading themselves through the hospital. Fiona, meanwhile, slowly walked to the room in which Dr. Magpie was still restrained. She found her struggling against the straps wrapped over her body, but ultimately she made no progress.
Screams began to permeate through the halls of Bedlam, and Fiona closed her eyes at the foot of the bed, bathing herself in the chaos she had created. Each new mental patient her sisters collected brought her closer to Newton’s reemergence and closer to claiming the visions she hoarded. The disoriented and addled minds of the Bedlam Asylum’s psychiatric wing came flooding in at a nearly unbearable pace, but Fiona knew this was what she needed to do to resuscitate her mirrored self.
Opening her eyes, Fiona focused at the woman lying on the bed in front of her. Dr. Magpie looked up at her with disdain and dread, which filled Fiona with a satisfied sensation deep inside her. She smiled at the doctor, pulling the scalpel from her pocket.
“I’ve sent my new sisters to claim this hospital as my own,” she began. “They will become a part of me. A part of something greater.” After a pause, she continued. “But… you, Kathy. You are not worthy of my gift, but nor are you deserving of a death. What you deserve is exactly what you took from me, what you took from dear Newton.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dr. Magpie replied angrily.
“You stole three things, doc,” Fiona said. “Her love, her child, and both of our freedom. So what must we do, you ask. Love and child are quite simple really, and we’re going to have to take those from you.”
Dr. Magpie glared at Fiona, saying nothing.
“But will only cover love and child,” Fiona continued. “What about freedom you ask!”
Again, the doctor remained silent, staring at the woman standing at the foot of the bed. Fiona crept forward onto the bed, straddling the doctor and then sitting calmly on her lap.
“Freedom is earned, Kathy,” Fiona explained. “And you are going to have to earn yours. You see, it’s not me who will take your husband and child from you... that honor will go to you.”
“I would never!” Dr. Magpie shouted.
“No,” Fiona said. “But that’s where freedom comes into play.”
Fiona removed the doctor’s mask, slit open her own palm with the scalpel, and allowed the blood to drip into the doctor’s face. It dribbled into her mouth and nose and covered her eyes. The doctor spit it out and tried to shake the blood away, but it was a futile gesture. Fiona stood up from the bed and sliced at the bed straps, allowing Dr. Magpie to rise, as one of her living pets.
“Go earn your freedom, Kathy!” Fiona shouted. “Kill your family, and do try to enjoy yourself! That’ll make us squarsies!”
Magpie lurched upright off the bed and forward, out into the hall. Fiona had filled the doctor’s mind with purpose, and she now moved to fulfill it.
A rush of new and psychotic minds crept into her consciousness, and Fiona felt herself lose grip on her own. She closed her eyes again, feeling the chaotic nature flow through her. When she reopened her eyes, they had changed from their typical grey to a void of blackness.
Fiona left the room, closing the door behind her, but she paused, as a pain surged through her head. Her eyes changed from the black abyss to a vivid blue, as Newton reclaimed control of their body.
“What have you done?” Newton asked the absent Fiona.
Groaning, Newton dropped to the floor, pressing her head against the cold tile below her. She saw four distinct images in her mind - blood flowing from a waterfall, an elaborate funeral for a person of great importance, the ferocious results of extensive experimentation, and numerous shelves of the blood of the devout.
With the vision granted, Fiona returned and stood, replacing Newton. “I just knew she would rile you up!” Fiona noted, skipping through the hallway amidst the choir of screams.
Chapter 2. Ryn and the Rebels
Dark and twisted visions filled her dreams that night. Visions of wanton death, of Cultwick burning, and of her losing everything she cared for. In a sweat, she awoke, rushed out of bed and ran into the washroom, dropping to her knees and throwing her head over the toilet, hurling the contents of her stomach into the bowl. Pasty, green chunks lined with a silvery, metallic fluid flowed from her mouth and into the ceramic commode.
In the weeks following their dispersal of the cur
e for the sweeper bot plague, the genotoxin Erynn had been injected with had painfully coursed through her system. She began suffering from severe abdominal pain, frequent headaches, extreme irritability, and nausea.
Exacerbating his insomnia, Rowland had been working at all hours, day and night, to try to find a cure for her. He had injected her with all manner of various concoctions and tonics with varying levels of success, but nothing had cured her of the ailment. The professor had hypothesized that her symptoms would continue to worsen, until she was no longer capable of functioning. This was something he was adamant about preventing, and she was thankful she had him in her life.
Germ, meanwhile, had also decided to make himself useful in whatever way he could. The Chromework Confederacy found itself in constant need of supplies – medical, weaponry, and other. He began to work with a smuggler named Olivia Nightingale to get provisions out of the grasp of the Cultwick Empire and into the rebellion’s hands. Germ and Olivia had already managed to find several raw ingredients that Rowland used in the treatments for her genotoxin, but the fruits of their efforts had not yet been seen.
Hirim and his rebels had been working out of Pendulum Falls and Samuel’s skyship factory planning their next move. According to Hirim, the leader of the Chromework Confederacy was coming to visit later that day. Together, they were to meet with the new mayor Harlan McKay Jr. to discuss the state of the town and its relation to the empire.
The previous mayor, Theodore Bowden, had gone missing under strange circumstances and the people of Pendulum Falls were able to elect a new mayor – one willing to stand up to the demands of the empire. Hirim had asked Erynn to attend the meeting after all she had done for the rebellion, but unless she was able to get the nausea under control, she would make for a poor representative.
Pearl walked into the washroom and grabbed a hand cloth from under the sink. She rinsed the cloth under the faucet before squeezing out some of the excess water. Leaning down and wiping Erynn’s mouth, she asked, “Are ya okay?”
“Less and less, I’m finding,” Erynn replied.
Pearl Hicks was a beautiful young woman that had traveled with Erynn since they found each other in the western town of Dust Grove. She had jaggedly cut, short, dark black hair, and she had dyed the tips white to further stylize her appearance. Much of her skin was covered in tattoos, many of which, she had inked herself.
“Gonna be one of those days?” Pearl asked.
Erynn looked up at Pearl’s kind eyes, “I’m having trouble remembering a good day, Pearl.”
“I’m sure yer doc’ll think of somethin’, Ryn,” she replied. “Ya just gotta give it more time.”
“Time’s what I don’t have,” Erynn said, standing up and going to the sink. She turned the faucet on and stuck her head under the flow, getting a mouth full of water. After sloshing it around in her mouth, she spit the liquid back out before repeating the act again.
Pearl sat helplessly on the floor of the bathroom, as Erynn went back into their bedroom and started to get dressed. The former dance hall girl had stayed faithfully by Erynn’s side during the pain of the genotoxin, attempting to nurse her back to health, but it was an increasingly losing battle.
If the pain and discomfort of the genotoxin were not enough, Erynn was also plagued with terrible dreams. Ever since she recovered her mother’s emerald necklace, her mind had become connected to Fiona. During her brief time in the Center for Empirical Research, Erynn and Fiona had both been injected with an experimental compound. It was intended to connect the two women at a mental level, but up until that point, Fiona was the only one aware of the connection. Since the cure of the plague, the link had become more and more active, despite Erynn’s intentions and desires.
Her dreams primarily consisted of Fiona and her ghoulish, undead creatures that she had converted in death to do her bidding. The cure of the sweeper bot plague seemed only to have allowed for the spread of a new malady.
Even the cure itself had not been the devastating blow to the empire that they hoped it would be. Following the events of that night, Empress Mary Elizabeth Arkmast spoke out about it. She insisted that it was the empire that dropped the cure, since it had been their skyship.
Erynn had spent the majority of her time since the cure trying to keep her mind off the pain, the nightmares, and their less than successful subversion of the empire by delving into her chromesmithing work. She had already rebuilt her automaton, Tern, and improved upon his initial design by upgrading the strength and durability of his framework. More recently, she had constructed a mechanical bracelet for Pearl. It was in part to thank her for all her help and support, but it was also intended to help Pearl regain the memories that had been wiped from her mind.
She walked to her workbench in the corner of the room, sliding out a drawer and retrieving the recently finished metal hoop. Erynn walked back to the bathroom, where Pearl was still sitting, leaning against the wall.
The young chromesmith sat down beside Pearl and said, “I know I haven’t been the easiest person to live with these past few weeks, Pearl, but I appreciate what you’ve done for me.” She held out the device in front of Pearl, allowing her to take it.
“What’s this?” she asked.
“I told you I was going to make something for you,” Erynn replied. “I asked Max if there was anything he could make to improve memory.” She pointed to a small compartment in the device and continued, “Inside this thing is a serum he cooked up. Just put this on your wrist, and it will automatically inject you with his concoction from time to time.”
Pearl simply smiled and slid the bracelet over her wrist, latching it tightly around her skin. Erynn reached over, flipped a small switch along its side, causing the device to emit a soft sound of humming, and of gears turning.
“Oh!” Pearl exclaimed. “Guess that was it.”
“It reads your biometrics and injects you accordingly,” Erynn said. “And hopefully after a while, you’ll start to remember who you were before, and it will realize you don’t need it anymore.”
“Ya didn’t hafta do this, ya know,” Pearl said.
“’Course, I did,” Erynn replied sliding back up the wall of the washroom. She held her hand out to Pearl to help her up and the two women left the bathroom. “’Fraid I’m going to have to leave you, though. I’ve got to go see Hirim soon about the meeting with the new mayor.”
“Any idea what that’ll be about?” Pearl inquired.
“Not really,” Erynn answered. “I just know the confederacy leader is supposed to show up. A mystery beyond that.”
Erynn continued getting ready; throwing on a long, dark green shirt with holes in its raggedy sleeves that she wormed her thumbs through. Above the shirt, she wore a brown vest, clasped together with one shiny, chrome buckle. On top of a pair of worn jeans with holes in the knees and frayed hems, she wore a frilly, black skirt. She finally slid on her pair of clunky, black, leather boots over her feet.
From her nightstand, she retrieved her mother’s emerald necklace and clasped it around her neck. She returned to the bathroom once more, and brushed her teeth in an attempt to clean the vomit from her mouth. Exiting the bathroom and drying her hands on her skirt rather than a towel, she picked up a dark, leather belt with her custom-made pistol and some of her chromesmithing tools hanging from it. She strapped it around her waist and headed toward the door.
Before leaving, she retrieved from a stand near the door her crumpled-in top hat, placing it over her wavy red hair, as well as a black, fingerless glove. She slid the glove over her left hand, covering the branded ‘H’ on her skin, that served as a hideous reminder of her time with her torturer, Edwin and his master Alice.
In a simple act of defiance to that interrogation, Erynn had asked Pearl to replace her removed tattoo with another four-leaf clover. She hoped that the second one might do something to improve her luck, because it certainly could not worsen it.
Erynn opened the door, prompting Pearl to say, “
Ya be careful out there, kitten.”
“As always,” she replied, exiting their room.
Outside the hotel room was Tern, in active guard mode. As she closed the door he greeted her, “Good morning, debugger.”
The rebuilt Tern looked a good deal sturdier, as he was comprised of thicker and more expensive tubing. His chest plate, where he stored an input pad and screen was reinforced with parts from an old skyship engine she found in Samuel’s factory. During the reconstruction, she opted to completely replace his head, giving him a whole new set of optics and a more natural sounding vocal unit, though he still talked as stilted as ever. Rather than appearing to be a bucket, the new headpiece looked more like a silver orb. A black, rectangular section stretched across the front of the orb, where his two yellow optic sensors illuminated. Across the base of the orb was a vertically striped grill that lit up a matching yellow color, when the automaton spoke.
“Heya, Tern,” she said. “You still running alright?”
“Affirmative. My diagnostics report all systems performing optimally, debugger,” he answered with a series of flickering lights. “I am, however, in need of the security upgrade that you scheduled for today. Would you like to install that now?”
“Ugh, remind me later,” she instructed.
“Affirmative. Security update delayed until tomorrow,” he said. “Please note you have rescheduled this necessary--”
“Yeah, yeah,” she said. “I’ll get to it.”
“Shall I accompany you or remain on post, debugger?” he asked.
“Stay here with Pearl,” she replied. “I’ll let you know if I need you.”
“Affirmative, debugger,” he said.
Erynn left the porch of the hotel and began making her way through the town. Pendulum Falls was largely known for being the most technologically advanced city in all of the Cultwick Empire or beyond. Every building had full electric power, derived from the hydroelectric plant at the base of the town’s waterfall, and it had the skyship factory known for producing some of the greatest marvels of air travel.