by Allen, Jason
“That’s where this baby’s father went, and…”
“Seriously?” said Clem, and started laughing.
“Why are you laughing?”
“You do know that’s bullshit? Carcosa? It’s like Timbuktu, or East Jesus, or Y'ha-nthlei. Just made-up places, myths. Your lover boy is gone.” Cassie was crying, and Clem felt bad for belittling her. “It’s okay,” he reached out, and nervously patted her shoulder. “I personally don’t believe in anything. Sorry, that was kind of a dick-thing to say.”
Cassie sobbed. “It’s okay. Once I get inside here, I won’t miss Carl anymore, and that’s all that matters.”
The day was purple, and the crowd had hushed. The podium was approached by a figure in a red robe, with the mask of a German shepherd. Two Nosariis in the masks of a Chihuahua, and a Poodle stood beside it, arms at the ready. The microphone hissed.
“Brothers and sisters, I present to thee the mighty Imperiam’s new lethal chamber!”
A crane moved in close, lowering a hook connecting with a ring on the tarp, and revealing a two-story, marble black skull. Fog machines came on, fireworks ignited the purple sky, and the crowd erupted in cheers and applause.
“This is a monument brothers and sisters to the Nosarii that lost their lives in the name of the Imperiam yesterday. And in the name of independence, from this life, and would not stand for the tyranny of Ultharian terrorists. For twenty-four hours, we were under siege, but still gained our footing. I look upon you masses, some knelt in devotion, and some in the same masks I wear, a face representing obedience, and servitude to our mighty Imperiam, to our dynasty!”
The crowd had silenced, and all were knelt. Cassie and Clem looked around, and did the same, genuflecting for the speaker.
“Brothers and sisters, I thank you, and I love you. In the name of the Imperiam!”
“THE IMPERIAM!” The crowd let go. Cassie and Clem nervously said the same, and clapped as the crowd went into cheering.
“And I ask, brothers and sisters who will claim their independence from this life?”
The suicide chamber’s teeth wrenched open, its eyelids too. One ocular cavity revealed a shirtless, muscular guard in the mask of a Shih Tzu, the other guard of a lean build, and the mask of a Saint Bernard, each with rifles at the ready. Clem gulped. Cassie went for her phone.
“The Imperiam accepts cash, and charge!”
Cassie squealed, and then held her belly when a sharp pain came.
She walked up to feed the numbers to the black skull, reciting them from her cell phone. Clem took a deep breath, and followed in slowly and awkwardly behind Cassie.
The teeth of the black skull closed after Cassie fed it the numbers. A high-pitched sound went off as it primed.
“Ladies and gentlemen, brothers and sisters,” said the speaker and leapt down from the podium with the microphone.
“Young lady, what is your name?”
A sharp pain went off inside Cassie; she grasped her belly, and cried out. “Cassilda Syndrome!”
“Young Miss Syndrome, pregnant too, sacrificing her child as well as herself for the Imperiam!” The crowd cheered.
“And young man, who are you?”
“Clem Castaigne,” said Clem.
“You are much too old to be the father of this young lady’s child. Did you make a mistake? Is that why you’re showing this independence?”
“No,” said Clem, and the microphone fed back. The crowd jeered.
“I simply, just want to die.”
“And you will, son,” the speaker patted Clem’s back.
The black skull had primed, and opened its teeth, Cassie started to walk inside.
The crowd parted as a small hunched figure wearing the mask of an orange tabby pulled out an automatic rifle.
“Hail Ulthar!”
Two slight whistles split the air when the guards in the black skull’s eyes squeezed off shots. The hunched figure fell to the concrete, and the crowd swarmed around him, and came up with the white mask in celebration.
“Anymore Ultharian doomsayers out there? Ha! Ha! Ha! Ha!”
The crowd laughed along. Cassie stepped inside the black skull, and Clem followed close behind.
“Asshole,” said Cassie. “I only paid for one, well two for one, if you count this…” Cassie vomited, “…little bundle of joy.”
“I know,” said Clem. “Look. I don’t have any money. I really want…no, need to do this.”
“Fuck you,” said Cassie, and pushed the button to the chamber’s door for it to close.
“Listen,” said Clem.
“Guard!” said Cassie. “This fish-faced fuck is trying to steal a suicide!”
“No, no,” said Clem. The crowd behind him hissed, sounded livid. “I’m begging, just let me inside with you. I’ll mind my own business. I just want to die, and I’m so broke.”
Cassie looked at the poor, ugly guy, his eyes so wanting. She had never done anything nice for anyone, and she was about to leave this fucked up world. Why not?
“Look, um, Cassilda, neither of us will die alone,” Clem was kneeled holding her knees, pleading. A bullet hissed past. Clem backed away on his knees, went to the ground, and held his bleeding shoulder.
Cassie looked at Clem, sighed, and stepped out of the suicide chamber.
“It’s okay,” she said, waving her hands above her head. “I’ll pay for him.”
Cassie recited more numbers to the black skull, the teeth closed, and the high pitched sound went off as it primed again.
“I’m sorry,” said Clem.
“I know,” said Cassie.
The crowd behind them booed.
“Brothers and sisters, a testament to camaraderie. Our Imperial friendship! This young lady paid this young man’s way inside our lethal chamber. She gave compassion to a thief! I encourage you. If your brother has nothing, then give. Reach deep, and note, inside the chamber is a donations box. Before you pass, reach deep, and give. Hail the Imperiam!
Cassie was panting, “Okay, fish-boy. You ready to do this? You ready to fucking die?”
“Thank you so much,” said Clem. “Nobody has ever been this nice to me, ever!”
The suicide chamber had primed, and its teeth came open.
“Brothers and sisters! Our new lethal chamber’s first suicide!”
The crowd ignited with clapping, whistles, and cat-calls.
Clem awkwardly took Cassie’s hand. She looked at it, then looked up at him, and sighed. Cassie and Clem walked inside the suicide chamber. The black skull’s teeth snapped down.
Chapter Fourteen
CASSIE AND CLEM HELD THEIR BREATH INSIDE the suicide chamber. Their eyes stung in the haze of yellow gas, needles on gauges reached the red. Clem gasped.
His head went limp, as well as the hand holding his shoulder where the bullet had entered. Cassie sat beside him, and he started to slowly slump his limp body onto her. She tried to wrestle him off with her elbow.
Her lungs were praying for air, her eyes burned, and she was clenching, holding the child inside her as best she could. She felt some pressure release. The head was crowning, and pushing against the crotch of her jeans. She stood in the small booth, and took her jeans down. The pain briefly succumbed to stark terror when she looked down, and saw the baby had no face. The infant’s head was covered in a ghastly white caul. She almost gasped.
The faint sound of the speaker in the German shepherd mask, and muffled cheers came from the crowd outside the suicide chamber.
The yellow gas hissed, and she tried fisting the sting from her eyes. The baby fell out some more, and she kicked Clem’s corpse off the bench, and onto the floor.
The child’s upper-body was exposed, and upon its shoulder was another head with a ghastly white caul. Her head felt light, but she held her breath.
Outside the sound of the crowd intensified, like close thunder.
The pain, and the misery of the whole situation was becoming too much. She glanced at the can
cel button, but decided not to push it. She had come this far, and the thought of living with a child that looked so much like Carl and Lee broke her heart more. Everything since that first night reminded her of Carl, and that’s why she was ending her life in the first place, she didn’t need this child, day in, day out, reminding her that Carl was gone, and never coming back.
Cassie’s bowels let go, the child was completely out, the umbilical cord connected to Cassie. The two-headed child was writhing in a puddle of blood and amniotic fluid next to Clem’s corpse on the suicide chamber’s floor.
Cassie wanted to breathe, but held it. She kicked her feet like an addict in the throes of Want. She considered the cancel button again.
Outside, the crowd was going into hysteria. The voice of the speaker was gone. Pounding from all around the chamber came from outside, they seem to have gotten to the top of the black skull. The sound of rifles and various firearms were going off.
The fuck is going on?
Cassie noticed the baby still moving. The cauls must be protecting it from the gas. What if the baby lived on after she died?
The suicide chamber was getting hot, an alien-hot. Cassie started to sweat. The suicide chamber was rocking back and forth now. Cassie left her feet when it tipped, her body slammed into the wall adjacent, and Clem’s corpse fell on top of her. She tried to push Clem’s deadweight off of her, but her strength was long gone. The suicide chamber moved again, and Cassie slammed, this time, on top of Clem. Then, the chamber turned upside-down, and seemed to be flipping, and rolling. From outside came the noise of panic, and fists bashing from all sides of the suicide chamber, even the bottom, and top.
Take a breath, c’mon! Do it!”
The chamber jarred hard, and the tools for bludgeoning were released from a console. The heat inside the chamber went from that of a sauna, to something intolerably hellish. The tools for bludgeoning started to prime, and the pitch of the noise from directly inside was so high, and intense, Cassie felt blood dribble down from her ringing ears.
The booth was opaque with yellow. The baby, the controls, the gauges, Clem’s corpse, or even her hand in front of her face could not be seen. And the chamber’s flipping distorted any sense of direction.
The voices outside became as alien as the heat inside, guttural, and slow, and nothing remotely human.
Breathe!
Cassie calmed herself, and focused.
“I love you Carl,” she exhaled, and was met with sunlight.
She was being pulled from the suicide chamber by figures in yellow robes, and pallid masks. She fisted her eyes, but the sun was so hot, so intense, and through her spotty vision, she saw one figure held the two-headed infant toward a blue sky. Cassie’s eyes slightly acclimated, and she realized the intensity of the light, and the heat was coming from twin suns.
Carcosa?
All around, the figures bowed around her prone body. From her left, and right making a pathway, and down that pathway, came a figure not unlike the others. This figure had the same pallid mask as the rest, and yellow robe, but this figure had a head upon its shoulder. It held out its hand, and pulled Cassie to a sitting position, and held her. She sobbed on its chest, reached around, and held it in her arms. No sound came from the two-headed figure, not even breathing.
The child was being given to another figure that swaddled it into a tattered yellow robe, and placed a crown upon the larger head, and a small crown upon the head at the shoulder.
“Carl? Baby, where have you been? Is this the Carcosa your mother was talking about? Am I dead? Why did you leave me!” Anger suddenly flustered Cassie, and the figure held her closer. She continued to sob into its chest. She pounded weakly, and playfully on its arm. “Bastard!”
Down the pathway of the pallid masks kneeling, came a figure with a plate, and a small mound of yellow powder. Cassie recognized it as ‘Dalos. She buried her face into the mound and inhaled. She stood, and the figure adorned her in a yellow robe, placed a pallid mask, firmly, on her face, and a jeweled diadem upon her head.
All hail Queen Cassilda!
Chapter Fifteen
TWIN SUNS SANK BENEATH A LAKE AT DUSK. A knight in a yellow robe and pallid mask walked an ocean of corpses in the afterglow of a world that was, and will never be again.
Something white caught its eye, shining between two sprawled bodies in dogs masks.
Interest peaked, and the knight stepped over, around, and on the twisted cadavers, and picked up the shining thing. It was a marble statue featuring a small dog, and seemed to be carved exquisitely, and hyper-realistic. The marble it was carved from seemed warm, almost sentient. The knight would get this artifact to the queen immediately.
The twin suns sank, giving way to black stars. The knight ran through the field of bodies. This statue was an obvious idol of the old world, representing their heathen ways, but he would let the queen decide. The Yellow Queen would make that final judgment.
As the knight ran, under his arm the marble statue seemed to be getting softer. He leapt over the sea of bodies, and made his way to the Queen’s court.
Cassie sat upon her throne of bones, a jeweled diadem crowning her fire-red hair. She wore a pallid mask, and yellow robe. She nursed her son, two heads suckling both breasts, and by her side on another throne, her two-headed King. The head at his shoulder slumped, and sleeping.
Below was a legion of her knights, and servants on their knees, some faces to a checkerboard, red and black floor, in humility, and devotion.
Very little was ever spoken in Carcosa, Cassie looked over at her King, and sighed, content.
“Queen!” The Yellow Knight ran into the court, the words guttural, barely decipherable. “Queen! An Idol!”
The excitement caused the court to rise to their feet, and went for their swords, mace, and daggers. Cassie handed the child to the servant, her bared breasts exposed to the Court, uncaring she went for the dagger at her hip.
“Calm the fuck down,” said Cassie. “Why are you disturbing my child’s feeding?” She motioned to another servant signaling it to bring a plate of ‘Dalos. Since she began her reign of Carcosa, the ‘Dalos had been to her, and her King a constant companion. The Fourth Dimensional Vortex, their only tether to sanity, and a world long forgotten. The ‘Dalos being what separated the Queen and King from the servants.
Carl and Lee rose from their throne unsheathing a sword.
“Beg…beg your pardon,” the Yellow Knight stammered.
“Explain yourself!” said Cassie.
“I have…found an idol, my Queen. Something from days forgotten.”
“Bring it to me!” Cassie had to lean in closely to make out what the Yellow Knight was saying. The servants, and knight’s speech was getting more inhuman every day. Carl and Lee had long since became silent, embracing their destiny in Carcosa, and would simply grunt in regards to positive and negative reactions. Cassie was grateful for this. Carl was cute, but dumb as a rock, and that asshole, Lee? He, or it, was better off mute, as far as she was concerned.
Cassie was too stubborn, and frankly, too lazy to learn Carcosian. She would rather teach her servants her speech, which she knew could be vulgar at times, but she tried to sound more “Queenly” to them as she described it.
The Yellow Knight held the idol up to Cassie. She studied it, closely. The marble felt soft, which would make it easier to destroy.
“This is something those dog worshippers, you know, um worshipped. Why did you bring this before me? That is your King, I am your Queen, and that,” she pointed at the child. “Is your prince! To bring this thing to me is so fucking disrespectful!”
The marble was getting malleable. Cassie could feel it…breathing?
Guards went for their swords, ready to kill The Yellow Knight.
Cassie lifted the idol, high above her head, ready to throw it to the ground, and smash it. The idol started struggling, and under her pallid mask, Cassie’s eyes widened. She was holding a dog.
She unm
asked, and looked at the dog. It was a Chihuahua, and Cassie started to squeal.
“Look at the cute doggie! Oh my God!”
Chico licked Cassie’s face. She held the Chihuahua nuzzled to her neck. “Let him go!”
The Yellow Knight rattled a sigh, and the Court backed away.
“You guys come pet the doggie! Get him some food,” said Cassie. The Court scrambled outside, searching for food, and some returned with human limbs.
The Court moved in close, and petted Chico. Cassie put him on the floor, and Chico, instinctively went to gnawing the throne of bones.
“Will you look at him, baby!” said Cassie. Carl grunted.
The servants came back with raw limbs, some human, some not, and put them at the Queen’s feet. Chico was starved, and went for an arm.
“He is my pet,” Cassie held out her arms, and announced. “He will be treated in the same way you treat your Queen, King, or Prince. He will be fed, and protected. Fuck up and fail to attend the doggie’s needs, it’s death.”
“Hail The Yellow Queen!” The Court cheered.
Chico gnawed the arm. So far, he’s seen one familiar face, that girl’s, but the rest of the faces? Chico wasn’t sure what to think. So far, they were nice, but through the stench of corpses outside the Court, he caught Clem’s scent faintly on the wind.
Chico couldn’t remember the last time he had eaten, it could have been forever ago, it could have been five minutes ago. His time with Clem was forever.
Somewhere under those black stars, his best friend was waiting for him.
END
JASON WAYNE ALLEN has published several short stories, mostly in the Bizarro and Horror genres. Ichthyic in the Afterglow is his first book. Jason Wayne Allen is Southern by the disgrace of some dark god, but currently resides in Mesa, Arizona with his wife and two dogs. He likes Nintendo and beer.
WWW.JASONWAYNEALLEN.WORDPRESS.COM
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