Station
Page 11
The fifth floor was a marketplace of pain, where residents took turns gleefully doling out and receiving lashings from light whips that shattered nerves and locked up jaws but caused no permanent damage. As the Slink continued its descent into nothingness, the pain transformed somewhere in the body, resulting in the perception of some twisted pleasure from the agony. Laughs, screams, moans, and wails melded into a symphony as arms pumped until they were spent, voice boxes eventually falling silent under strain.
Level six was a return to the more mundane party atmosphere if that party was wrapped in religious idols and symbology. A large cross dominated the room, from which a red liquid flowed to be ladled by manikins into roughly hewn wooden cups. Stars of David were tiled into the floor to be stepped on, and pages of the Koran were distributed to wipe excess drink from mouths.
Level seven was an all-white room, devoid of any furniture, counters, or entertainment. Residents were given bright ponchos upon entrance, which they promptly donned over their Celebration Cluster couture. As the residents formed a perimeter around the room, five manikins - two glumes and three lemmas - marched in to stand in the middle of the circle. The hiss of gas could be heard in the relative quietness, and Hadder could palpably feel the Slink's pulsing responses to the new stimulant.
Without warning, one of the residents, a tall Latina with the top of her head shaved, moved forward and scratched the face of the nearest glume, her sharp nails painting long lines of blood. As if this was a call to action, another resident, this time one of Helen and Nestra's lackeys, rammed her elbow into the face of a flat-topped lemma, sending a wet cracking sound to echo across the room.
From there, all hell broke loose, and sanity was lost.
Residents ran forward to pummel the defenseless manikins. Hands tore off ears, gouged out eyes, and ripped out hair. Teeth removed chunks of manikin flesh. Fists shattered jaws while feet caved in chests.
Hadder initially stood by, transfixed by the horror show that was unfolding. But as the Slink continued its dissolution, it dragged Hadder into his own descent into madness. An inexplicable rage began to build deep within Hadder, one that refused to stay quiet and demanded action to satiate its desire.
One of the glume manikins, already battered beyond recognition, stumbled into Hadder. Relinquishing control of his body to the Slink, Hadder made a claw of his hand and snatched the throat from the feeble automaton. Blood sprayed like a geyser, baptizing Hadder and those around him in gore. Other residents quickly joined Hadder, and together they ripped the manikin apart, separating arm from shoulder, leg from hip, and head from neck, a callback to the sick games that children played with helpless insects.
The orgy of violence raged on for some time until red mist hung heavy in the air, and only small mounds of viscera marked locations where the five manikins once stood. Shaking residents stood under masks of red, the final bit of dangerous adrenaline leaving their systems. Without laughter, or high-fives, or words, the group removed their now crimson mantles in silence and shuffled towards the stairwell, all wishing they could leave the remainder of their Slinks behind.
As Hadder ascended to Inferno's eighth floor, exhaustion was now added to his growing list of sensitivities, magnifying the effects of all else that was in his system, especially the cursed Slink. Level eight had small stages peppered throughout its main chamber, with seating surrounding each. As residents randomly arranged themselves at stages, nude lemma manikins began to populate the platforms.
These, however, were not typical lemma manikins. Beyond having actual mouths that were framed by pouty lips, the manikins were the idealized images of female perfection. Impossibly slim waists sat upon impressive hips. Oversized breasts hung high in direct opposition to gravity, while round asses bounced quickly on thin, athletic frames.
Drinks were served, and the Slink continued its work, replacing the bloodlust of the previous floor with a sexual lust that harkened back to the Bar's second level a lifetime ago. As testicles and nipples swelled, the manikins began provocative dances that were part cabaret, part Cirque du Soleil, and part porn shoot. Residents, male and female alike, reached lustily for the manikins, only to be slapped away. Once the choreographed portion of the show had finished, the manikins twirled through the crowd. One stopped to dance on the one lap of one male resident. Another straddled a female resident, covering her in passionate kisses as it placed its perfectly crafted bare feet in the faces of the men to each side.
Cocks throbbed, and clitorises ballooned, but no sexual releases were to be found on the eighth floor. Hadder drifted in and out of coherence, heightened sexual desire turning his cognizance on and off like a light switch. He tried to dampen the carnal urges with strong drinks, but the beverages that were served only added to his arousal.
Just as Hadder thought he could take no more, that he would be forced to assault one of the manikins or publicly pleasure himself, the intoxicating manikin dancers filed back into side rooms. Once safely packed away, the group was ushered towards the back stairwell, everyone noticeably stiffer than when they entered the floor.
The final story of Inferno appeared at first glance a welcome change of pace from the gauntlet through which Hadder had just walked. White curtained beds were organized in neat rows that filled the room. Servant manikins led residents one by one to beds, drawing the curtains closed as each resident settled onto their mattress.
Hadder laid back against plush cushions after the manikin left him alone behind the elegant drapery. His foot shook anxiously, still reeling from his unanswered call for sexual release. Looking at his forearm, Hadder felt a momentary sense of comfort in seeing that the Slink had all but disappeared. Despite his head spinning uncontrollably and his brain unable to decipher real from imagined, Hadder took pleasure in the one idea he knew to be true - it was almost over.
A figure could be seen moving just outside of Hadder's makeshift room; a female finger caressed the edges of the bed curtains. Hadder grew excited, anticipating a final satisfaction after endless longing. He was ready for whatever came through that curtain, confident that he could handle it given his time in Station. Satisfied that no manner of creature that appeared before his bed would break him more than he had already been broken. Confident that he would take his satisfaction and be done with this fucked up place, stronger for having survived it.
Marlin Hadder was wrong on all accounts.
As the curtains slowly parted, Hadder ran the gamut of emotions, from disbelief to confusion to fear to, worst of all, hope. Emily moved gracefully onto the bed, looking as youthful and full of life as she did on their wedding day, her curly auburn hair framing her pink freckled face. Her light brown eyes, soft and gentle, locked onto his own, reminding Hadder of a life long lost.
From somewhere deep, Hadder's inner mind fought with the story his eyes were telling, screaming that a great betrayal was being executed. But Hadder's bruised heart muted that distant voice, backed by a Haela's worth of chemicals and leveraging a damaged brain that was functioning at minimal capacity.
Emily crawled up the bed to lay on top of Hadder, her hands cupping his face and wiping away twin rivers that now ran down his cheeks. Her face pressed against his own, Hadder closed his eyes tightly as the last image he had of her flashed across his vision. He could barely see her eyes through a veil of red. She wore a crown of brain matter but somehow kept moving, crawling through broken glass and over rough concrete, doing everything possible to get to the small hand that poked out from beneath the twisted metal.
Hadder opened his eyes, and there she was again. Face clean and serene, clear of the terror and desperation that soiled his last look at her. Hadder trembled beneath Emily, working hard to put words to his thoughts and even harder to vocalize those feelings. "Emily, it is really you? I thought I had lost you, sweetheart. I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, honey."
Heaving sobs overtook Hadder, and he may have remained like that forever, caught in a loop of pity, had Emily not extinguished th
at despair with a passionate kiss that stole his breath and forced him back to the present. "It's ok," she said. "I'm here. I'm here with you, Marlin. I've missed you so much. Be with me."
They fell into each other again, paired souls that were brutally separated had found each other in absolute darkness, against all the odds. Grief, love, exhaustion, longing, loneliness, and drugs commingled to create a sexual frenzy between two star-crossed lovers. They didn't bother with clothes; Emily pulled down Hadder's pants, and Hadder pulled up Emily's floral dress, two sets of hands shaking with impatience.
Hadder slipped inside Emily, and his pupils shrank to pinholes. He was immediately transported to a previous, better life. Everything flooded back as she moved back and forth on top of him. A drunken kiss at a party that neither were supposed to attend; a beautiful secret wedding on a small island; shopping for little dresses; playfully arguing over names; selecting photos for scrapbooks; family walks at sunset during Autumn months.
Hadder looked up at the love of his life and knew that he was brought to Station for this very moment.
They continued their lovemaking, and their curtained bed might as well have been another world rotating another star in another galaxy. The two lovers were their own universe, alpha and omega. Marlin Hadder never wanted it to end.
As Hadder grew close to climax, he reached up to caress his wife's beautiful face. Emily took his hand and kissed his palm before placing it back on his chest. She then reached up and touched her own face, grabbing herself just under the chin. In one swift, violent motion, she ripped the flesh from her face to reveal a demon underneath.
Hadder's eyes went wide, and his heart sank as he recognized Jackie Crone straddling him, her angry blue eyes carving permanent trenches into his soul. Hadder's heart broke again, and even the small bit of sanity he had clung to all night abandoned him. Jackie Crone sensed his frozen anguish and smiled wickedly, riding Hadder harder until she came powerfully, soaking his groin and the bedsheets below in thick mucus. She kept thrusting Hadder deep inside her as he laid there a catatonic mess. Eventually, he came, the sad involuntary reaction of a shattered man.
Jackie Crone stood by Hadder's bedside, stroking his grief-stricken face. She leaned in towards his ear, her oily white hair and too-tight skin stirring his stomach. "Welcome to Inferno, new boy. Nothing ends. Tell Rott that you change nothing."
If Hadder had any control of his bodily functions, he would have retched in the bitch's face. Jackie moved away, gave one last toothy smile, and disappeared, leaving the curtain open behind her. Raising his head, Hadder could see other residents exiting their beds, most in either a daze or a desperate flight. Hadder's tattered mind and body elected the latter as he pulled up his sticky pants and hobbled towards the exit - Inferno's final door that would take him to the ground level.
The elevator down was shared by three other residents, each silently dealing with their own personal hells. After a long descent, the doors opened directly to the outside of the Bar. The residents fell out one by one; two stumbled away in the pre-Solay haze while the third fell to the ground and held her head in her hands.
A cool breeze brushed Hadder's face, the phantom touch of his dead wife, and Hadder's mind lurched. He had lost everything a second time, and it was too much to bear. While the Slink was gone from his forearm, Hadder could still feel it coursing through his body, playing tricks on his eyes, pulling strings on his nerves, and squeezing adrenaline glands.
With no idea of where to go, what to do, or how to terminate the Slink's hold, Hadder began to run. He speedily lumbered along, utilizing movements that looked and felt half toddler, half drunkard. On and on Hadder ran, past quiet Bars and down dim thoroughfares, ghosts chasing him, hot on his heels. Despite the streets being empty as Haela slowly surrendered to Solay, Hadder fell as much as he ran, his mind no longer having mastery over his flailing limbs. His drug-clogged, ruined heart pounded in his chest, and his breathing resembled an asthma attack. But still, he ran.
After numerous twists and turns, Hadder was spat out of a small pathway and limped into a sizeable open avenue of unseemly asphalt. Looking left and right, Hadder could see that a swath of emptiness ran endlessly in either direction. Excessively bright lights hung from ugly metal poles that dotted both sides of the swath, in stark contrast to the beauty of Station.
Hadder shuffled forward, grief no longer enough to drive him. His brain sizzled as circuitry shorted, and synapses refused to fire. Hadder fell to his knees and began to crawl across the strip of concrete. In the dark recesses of his mind, Hadder recalled conversations with Miles and Jonny, something about a division of Station. Unable to switch gears; however, he continued to crawl, eventually reaching the other side of the divide, feeling an end to the cold asphalt and discovering the soft grass that dwelled just beyond.
A muddled idea coalesced within Hadder, telling him that he had reached some invisible goal. That was all the motivation he needed as he fell onto his back, staring up at the Idol Moon stuck between phases. Hadder's eyes grew heavy as exhaustion finally won the war over drugs and heartache. Closing them, his other senses immediately elevated. He smelled the burnt fruit smell of pollen on air currents and the musk of fertile soil that fed countless plant varietals. He heard the buzzing of glowing insects as they passed above on their way to pre-Solay trysts with open flowers. He listened to the gentle breeze that shuffled the grass beneath his head and footsteps in the distance growing closer.
Hadder's eyes rocketed open. Why did he hear footsteps growing closer? Unable to move anything below the neck, Hadder turned his head to the right and squinted. In the distance, a shadowed figure made its way towards Hadder at a fast walk that transitioned into a deliberate jog. As it drew closer, the shadows fell back to reveal the being that was now racing towards Hadder. While human, it was a twisted thing that seemed to have as much in common with a chimpanzee, elongated arms on a muscled frame supported by sturdy bowed legs. Its skin had a grayish hue, and it wore another's human face over its own, secured to its bald, deeply scarred head by black leather. As it ran, it held its long right arm out, and Hadder blinked as the brightening Idol Moon's rays caught the metal blade running the length of the creature's forearm, springing directly from the fiend's flesh.
Everything moved in slow motion as Hadder, unable to move, took in every detail of the terrifying but fascinating warped human that was closing the distance. Under the mask of flesh, Hadder could see a malicious grin punctuated by sharpened teeth, all the proof he needed that these were the last moments of his life. Tired, detached, and immobilized, Hadder looked away from the racing murderer to stare again at the Idol Moon, one last picture of beauty before the end. He closed his eyes once more, hearing the footsteps draw closer until they were upon him. Hadder could sense the weaponized arm pull back for a killing stroke. He welcomed it.
At what should have been the moment of impact, Hadder was yanked back by something with enormous strength. A wet slapping sound echoed off the concrete, followed by a weak scream and a scramble. "Get back, Riser! This one's not for you!" The voice was that of an elemental straight from the pit of an active volcano. The twisted man screamed something in return, an awful high-pitched thing, but Hadder was sinking deeper into unconsciousness and unable to understand his words.
The last thing Hadder remembered was being hefted into the air, thrown over a giant shoulder that felt like a skin-wrapped mountain. His savior's booming words chased after him as he dove headlong into oblivion. "Message from Mister Albany Rott. You're not to die. Not yet, anyway."
CHAPTER 10
Hadder opened his eyes slowly, fearing that he ran from one nightmare only to plunge into another. Hidden lights dimly lit the room in which he resided, typical Station living quarters, comfortable but sparsely furnished. Someone had removed and laundered Hadder's clothes, which were folded nicely on a chair by the front door. Looking at the Moon Clock, Hadder saw that it was already deep into Haela; he had slept away the Solay.
After a long, dangerously hot shower where he tried to wash off both dirt and the memory of Jackie Crone's body atop his, Hadder dressed hesitantly. Although his clothes had been thoroughly cleaned, his mind superimposed Jackie's thick juices onto his pants and underwear, making him wince. He quickly removed them.
Next to the front door, Hadder found the service button and pressed it. Less than a minute later, Hadder answered a polite knock at the door completely nude and ushered the glume manikin inside. Holding up his old clothes for the manikin to take, Hadder requested the same material and cut, but he wanted all black everything, including the jacket, thinking it best that his clothes matched his mood. Before he left, Hadder also asked that food be brought to the room, anything would do. The manikin, docile as always, simply nodded almost imperceptibly, turned, and left.
Hadder collapsed back on the bed, trying to understand this new life and what he wanted from it. The Inferno experience was forcing him to reevaluate everything. His time in the Celebration Cluster was eye-opening and exciting, no doubt, but it was growing more evident by the day that it wasn't enough. He enjoyed his time with Jonny VV, and Reena Song was the closest he'd come to meeting an actual angel, but they and everyone else in the Celebration scene was caught in a loop, an endless gif of clothes, drugs, and sex. Despite the time he had spent with Jonny and Reena, heady with narcotics or, in Reena's case, laying together deep into Solays, he knew very little about his close friends. Any conversations that began to tilt into the Before were redirected or outright ignored. Everyone in the Celebration Cluster seemed to suffer from this same malady, an inability to talk about their past. Initially, Hadder didn't think that this would bother him, that he could adapt and follow suit.