Chapter 16: Uncivilized Behavior
For someone who led a pack of half-starved criminals and vicious men, making a pleasurable life out of the abuse of people already experiencing great suffering, Kaylee found Miguel to be quite dull.
There were several empty levels to the Heavenly Bodies club, filled with gimmicky bars and other stages as well as dozens, maybe hundreds, of small private rooms. The building even included a couple of restaurants. They weren't any longer in direct service, but Miguel had people and supplies enough to have someone provide cooked meals.
In spite of her captivity, Kaylee could not resist the hot, delicious food. She devoured it without speaking, guzzling the offered wine. Her head clouded from the alcohol, yet still everything said by the man seated across from her was incredibly boring.
"This man turns back," Miguel was entrenched in some story about a man of his trying to take control of his organization, "and notices that all of his 'followers' are actually aiming at him instead of me." He chuckled. "I never thought a man could remain standing for that long while being so full of holes."
His stories were consistently violent, and she found herself either in disbelief or generally less disturbed by them the longer he spoke. She yawned.
"Tired are we, my sweet?" Miguel took a small sip from his wine glass. "Would you like some more to drink?" He pulled the bottle from the ice bucket and filled her glass once more. She drank the deep, red liquid without saying anything, gulping it down as he watched intently.
Kaylee had not spoken more than ten words through the entire course of the dinner. Miguel had entertained himself by chattering almost nonstop as Kaylee bolted down her meal. He told stories of how he came into power, how he killed so and so, and numerous other conquests. One story Kaylee found particularly amusing, not in a positive way, was how the man described his nickname: the Silver Fox. Apparently, he received it when he first took control of the organization.
"So there I was, bound with my wrists behind my back. My adversary was gloating away about my failures against him. I spoke to him. I praised him for his brilliance. I applauded his craftiness, and I expressed nothing but careful reverence for his abilities. He let himself bathe in my admiration." Kaylee could barely keep her eyes from rolling out of her skull as the narcissist droned on about it.
Miguel had given a laugh, continuing. "Little did he know, I had secured a small paperclip and managed to disengage the handcuffs I wore. Having forestalled my execution with quick wit, I leapt forward and snatched this very weapon from him." He opened his coat, revealing the massive revolver. "It was all a part of my plan, you see. My adversary had kept himself carefully guarded, so the only way to get to him was to feign being captured. When I seized the weapon from him, my loyal men had already secured the building." He leaned back in his chair. "I beheld him, helpless, and laughed at him about his failings and arrogance. The man begrudgingly lowered his head and spoke. 'Truly you are a silver-tongued fox, Miguel. May the devil take you screaming to hell.' I told him, 'Perhaps we will meet there someday,' before I shot him," Miguel concluded.
Kaylee really didn't believe it. She had a suspicion that he merely bought or stole the pendant he wore and thought it would provide a good nickname. He probably made up the dumb story, she thought.
She was all but openly hostile throughout the entire time she spent with him. She made no effort to appear even slightly interested in anything he said, any of his conquests or close calls. Instead, she kept her eyes roaming around, looking for hiding places, exits, weapons, and anything else that she could use to her advantage if the opportunity ever arose. She considered sliding her fork up her sleeve but decided it wouldn't be a very useful weapon. That, and he seldom took his eyes away from her.
Miguel wiped his mouth and hands with his light pink napkin, matching the thick cloth that covered the table. Kaylee couldn't help eyeing his clothing from time to time, looking at the long-since dried blood splatter from the woman he murdered.
He, of course, misinterpreted her consistent gaze to be motivated out of interest and desire. His eyes glittered with carnal hunger, sliding up and down her figure every so often. She tried very hard not to notice the unwelcome attention; it was as confusing as it was offensive. I've been wearing the same dirty jeans and hooded-sweatshirt for weeks, she thought. I probably don't smell very fresh either.
He swirled his glass of wine, enjoying the aroma and flavor as he took a long sip. "So," he let the word hang in the air as Kaylee sat, plate and glass empty, hands folded in her lap. "Miss Kaylee." She just stared at him, waiting for him to get to whatever he planned on saying. "You are a mysterious woman. I like that."
Kaylee smirked, curling the corner of her mouth in the slightest of sneers. "Well," she said with a sickening sweetness, "that's such a relief. I was very worried; you have no idea."
A dark cloud passed over his eyes, but it faded quickly. Kaylee clenched her jaw, wondering how much more he would tolerate. Still, she felt delighted to cause another of his crazed, bipolar reactions.
"I have come to realize that, despite speaking with you for the last hour or so," he took another sip of his wine, "I have yet to discover anything about you."
Kaylee thought, That's because you've been chattering nonstop about yourself the whole time, you dumb bastard. Instead of expressing her opinion, she shrugged. "I was orphaned, and I didn't want to be one of their slaves, so I wandered around scavenging food and finding places to rest. Now I'm here."
Miguel frowned. "That's it? All of your years, summed up so quickly?" He let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "I pity you, girl. You have not understood what it means to live." He reached across the table, offering his hand, which she ignored. Not noticing the rejection, he said, "I will see to it that your days here are most memorable."
Kaylee gave him a cheerless smile. His eyes lit as an idea struck, and he leapt to his feet. "Come with me! I have something to show you. Something you may find quite fascinating."
She warily stood and walked towards the exit staircase with Miguel behind her. She stopped, folding her arms expectantly. He motioned to the stairs.
They came out of Heavenly Bodies and crossed the street, Miguel again filling the void of silence with mindless, self-important chatter. "…I had to tell him, 'I am sorry, my friend, but the male figure simply does not interest me.' He was such a loyal man, I could barely bring myself to shoot him for the insult…" Wow, Kaylee thought, and here I was thinking he couldn't disgust me any further.
They entered a building called The Dungeon, which was across the street from Heavenly Bodies. Kaylee cringed when Miguel gleefully told her of the fetishistic practices that used to occur within. He tossed his head back and laughed at his own cleverness when he spoke of how he repurposed it to be used as a prison. "After all," he said, chuckling, "most of the rooms already have chains."
Like most of what he said, Kaylee found this to be not nearly as amusing as he did. They walked through very gothic-style gloomy grey-stone hallways, heavy wooden "cell" doors with sliding viewer plates lining the corridor. They apparently had taken the dungeon theme seriously when the place had been in operation. The rooms were generously spaced out, as they were made to entertain paying clients not actually keep individuals as prisoners. She couldn't see into any of the rooms, but she had a suspicion that Miguel probably kept more than a couple of them occupied.
"I'm performing an experiment, you see," he spoke as they walked along electronic torches that flickered in a flame-like manner. They came to a spiral staircase of stone, leading both up and down. Miguel walked downward. "I always find the thought of being underground to be more unnerving, don't you?" Kaylee didn't respond.
They descended a level, coming out in a similar hallway to the one a floor above. On this level, for whatever reason, the illumination in the flickering "torches" was much more dim and gloomy. The stone walls glistened as though with cool moisture, but running her hands across their surface, Kaylee discov
ered it was just a glossy sealant. She stifled a laugh.
They walked all the way down the hallway, which ended in a wooden doorway with the same access slot. This one was wide open. Kaylee heard the sounds of shuffling footsteps from inside the cell with a little bit of gruff muttering.
As they approached, a foul smell grew in intensity. It was the most wretched thing Kaylee could ever conceive of, and she started gagging. Miguel pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it to his mouth and nose. Kaylee grimaced at the odor that smelled like month-old death and decay mixed with human waste and burnt hair.
Muffled by the cloth clamped over his face, Miguel said, "Allow me to introduce you to my latest social experiment." He pounded on the door, which rattled and groaned. "Nigel! We have a guest!" he called out
Kaylee peered through the slit into the dark cell, unable to help her curiosity. From the dim light spilling in from the hallway, she thought that it looked more like a hotel room. She could make out the outlines of a queen-sized bed, miniature refrigerator, and even a television over on the far right. To the left, obscured in the shadows, she could make out a figure and some tall object, like a sheet of plywood standing on its end.
"Nigel! Don't be so rude." He moved his hand to a section of brick and pushed. All of the lights in the room came on, followed by a shriek and a stream of raving nonsense.
Kaylee almost vomited when she viewed the contents of the cell. The accommodations portion, with the bed and fridge, was untouched. The sheets looked unrumpled and unused, and there was a thin layer of dust over everything where poor Nigel could only dream of going.
The other side of the room featured a tall wooden board with leather straps at various positions, ideal for securing the willing prisoner. Next to those, chains were set into the wall. They had about ten feet of give and clasped around the wrists of a man, who appeared more than slightly worse for the wear.
The walls and floor within a 15-foot radius of the man were splattered with stains of gore and filth. The purple carpet, so saturated, looked a deep brown. The walls were streaked with bloody handprints. A bucket in the corner was overflowing with waste, which in turn was tracked about the area; traces of it spattered the walls.
Kaylee gagged again as she saw a mangled corpse on the ground, stripped of various portions of its flesh. Teeth and bite marks were apparent across its torso and extremities. The arms sprawled awkwardly out, and the face, conveniently positioned to be viewable from the door, was etched with the agony of his final moments.
The occupant still alive wore a filthy, stained white outfit. Skin hung loosely off his thin, hollow frame, and he shuffled towards the door, blinking in the unaccustomed light. A month-old white beard adorned his face. This, too, was encrusted with brownish-red dried blood, and the patches of visible, pale skin was smeared with it. His brown eyes sunk into a gaunt, vacant face. Looking towards Kaylee, he reached out, revealing blood and filth-stained hands. He was brought up short with a loud clank as the chains drew to their length. Vague moaning and gibbering issued forth from his lips, which were whitish with frothy spittle. A pained expression crossed his face as he struggled against the chains.
"That's far enough, Nigel," Miguel spoke as if to a child.
Kaylee covered her mouth with her hand as she saw a ring on the man's hand, bearing the mark of Citizenship. Horror locked her feet in place, and she found herself unable to look away from the torturous scene.
"P-pl… please help me…" came the piteous moans from the man, still reaching in vain towards the closed door. "S-so… hungry…" Nigel's face contorted, and he threw himself forward, his arms wrenching behind him, bringing his face only a few inches away from the door.
Miguel's expression was almost neutral, but Kaylee could see that even he was disturbed by the sight. Bile raging in her stomach, she wondered if perhaps his depravity had its limits.
A new odor of decay assailed Kaylee, as the rotten breath passed through the slit, and she backed away from the door as Nigel cut loose a stream of raving nonsensical gibberish. Her gag reflex triggered once more when she saw his bloodstained lips and rotting teeth. He wrenched against the chains, screaming at the top of his lungs, eyes rolling back.
Miguel slammed the viewing window closed, muffling the madman's shrieks. Kaylee turned away and walked briskly down the hallway. He caught up to her quickly, talking about something. She completely ignored him, focusing her attention on not vomiting. A couple of tears rolled down her cheeks as she ascended the spiral staircase.
They soon came outside, and in front of the entrance Kaylee doubled over, taking several deep breaths of fresher air. She still imagined the suffocating stench all around her. Miguel was talking about something, and he held a somber tone.
"…freely admit that it has, perhaps, gone further into the realm of the vile than I ever intended." He rubbed his chin. "Yet I can't seem to abandon the experiment. In a grotesque way, I find poor Nigel and his reactions so utterly fascinating. It's such an intriguing study in human behavior."
Kaylee shot a glare at him, "What the hell are you talking about?"
Miguel looked surprised. "Have you not been paying attention?"
"To what?" Kaylee snapped. "Your justification for that horrific torture?"
Another of the intense scowls passed over Miguel's face, melting into that same warm smile as he relaxed himself from the insult. He wagged his finger at Kaylee, "Someday you will have to learn proper regards, my dear."
"Oh really?" Kaylee made a rude gesture. "Then today I'll stick with pissing you off."
He smiled sadly, not rising to the insult. "What you don't see, my dear, is what Nigel teaches us."
"Whatever."
Miguel displayed a heavy scowl. "Tell me, do you think, if given the opportunity, that gentleman in chains below would afford us any mercy?"
Kaylee scowled back. "How should I know?"
Miguel smiled thinly. "Let me tell you, then, what he intended." The smile faded. "He broke through a sealed section in his own apartment up above with the goal of hunting and killing one of the 'elusive vermin,' as he called them. One of us."
"Bullshit," Kaylee said, disbelieving.
Miguel drew in a deep breath. "No. I assure you it is the absolute truth. He had a hunting rifle, and he brought his servant along to carry equipment." He frowned. "Since their culture holds us as little more than beasts, he believed it would be easy sport."
Kaylee cringed. He never stood a chance, she thought. The image of the man in the festering, gore-stained cell came back to her. "But why are you doing this to him? Just kill him, or let him go!"
He rounded on her, anger in his eyes. "And what do they do to the people they take to the surface, hmmm?" He bared his teeth. "Do they let us simply go? Do they give us an easy death?" He shook his head. "I recognized the man he brought to carry his weapons for him. One of mine, taken months ago. What remained in him was nothing. He became a mindless slave. They did that to him." Miguel raised his chin. "So tell me, is what I've done to this man any worse?"
Kaylee frowned, trying to come up with a response.
Miguel smirked. "Do you see us, starving under their heel as we are, devouring our own dead? Perhaps we are not so barbaric after all." He shrugged. "Or maybe the term has no meaning at all, and people, Citizen or otherwise, are capable of doing horrific things in the proper circumstances given the proper convictions."
A flare of anger blazed through Kaylee. "No. You don't get to say that." She glared at him. "You don't get to pretend to be some misunderstood philosopher." After his posturing, his desperately boring stories, his calm execution of that poor woman, and his depraved torture of the misfortunate soul chained to the wall, she simply could not handle him discussing any sort of morality. "You're so full of shit. You talk about how they're worse, but they aren't. You didn't even give your own former man an easy end. He's in there, being eaten for your little experiment." She shook her head. "No. You just like to hurt people, and tha
t's all there is to it. It doesn't matter how you try to justify it. You're just some sadistic son of a bitch."
Miguel glowered at the insult and paced away a few steps. He sighed, hanging his head. "How much longer do you think you can try my patience?" He whirled around, striding towards her. "It is not unlimited."
Defiant, Kaylee sneered up at him. "Oh, really? What a shame. I feel so sorry for you."
His arm shot out, grabbing her wrist. She tried to pull away, but he held firm. Into his jacket he reached, pulling out the huge revolver. Kaylee's eyes went wide, and she opened her mouth to scream as he aimed the gun at her face.
He released her arm and cupped her chin. "Understand this. Your life is mine. You live and die by my whim." He smiled at her, gold teeth gleaming. "I like you, my sweet. Your spirit is most impressive." The smile faded. "Do not test me." To add insult, he leaned in and kissed her on the mouth.
He released her. She retreated a couple of steps, spitting before shooting Miguel a glare.
"So, the Citizen lasted two weeks before starting to consume his dead servant," he said, continuing the story. Kaylee's mouth hung open as Miguel switched gears in conversation as though nothing, including his 'we're no different speech,' had happened. He really is crazy, she thought. God… what have I gotten into?
Right then, as he, with animated vigor, began to retell the story of Nigel's capture, Kaylee realized that she had never felt quite so alone and helpless. How am I going to get out of this? she wondered. As Miguel continued to chatter without pause, she felt a crushing despair seep into her mind as no answer came.
Uprising Page 24