Werewolves of the Other London

by Amy Cross

  "Damn!" Darla exclaims as we find that the rear entrance is also locked. "What the fuck is going on?"

  I look at my watch. If we don't get out of here soon, we might be too late to save Duncan.

  "The control room's on the first floor," Darla says. "We'll go up there and smash everything until the doors open. Plan?" She turns to me.

  "Sure," I say, not really sure whether that counts as much of a plan at all.

  Not trusting the lifts, we take the stairs and soon we're in the first floor corridor. We find the entrance to the control room, which is basically a large dark room with banks of computer monitors on one side. We look at all the information on the screens, but none of it makes much sense.

  "Completely automated," Darla says. "Fancy."

  I hear a strange noise and turn to find that it's coming from the wall. It's that rhythmic, thumping sound that I heard this morning. I put my ear to the wall and listen more closely. It's like a heartbeat, all through the building.

  "What shall we smash first?" Darla asks.

  "Are you sure smashing is the best option?" I ask. I look at the monitors. "Maybe there's just a control that we can use to unlock the doors."

  Darla stares at me for a moment. "Damn you and your anti-smashing agenda," she says. "But you might be right."

  I glance across the room and spot a small door leading to another area. "I'll go and check in here," I say.

  "No," says Darla. "You're better with computers than I am. See if you can figure something out here, I'll go and check in there." She smiles. "But if you can't do anything, I reserve the right to try smashing."

  I nod. "Okay." I pause for a moment. "Darla, are you okay? Seriously. After Eddie -"

  "I'm fine," she says. "Get on with figuring out a solution to this."

  And with that, she goes off to look in the next room while I take a look at the monitors. Unfortunately, while Darla was right that I'm 'better' at computers than she is, that's not saying much. I can just about change my settings on Windows. These screens, though, are much more complicated, filled with information that makes no sense. What's more, as I look at them I realize that there are no keyboards. In fact, there are no input devices at all - no mouse, no trackpad, nothing. It's almost as if the people who sit at these desks aren't here to do anything with the computers, just to watch them.

  "Holy fuck," I hear Darla saying in the other room.

  "What?" I call out.

  Silence.

  Knowing Darla, and knowing that she's not easily spooked or even easily impressed, I head over to the door. "What is it?" I ask. But as soon as I enter the room, I see exactly what she's found. It takes me a couple of seconds to work out exactly what I'm looking at, but when I do, I stand there in stunned silence for a moment before turning around and vomiting.

  Jess

  "Isn't it beautiful?" Darla says, walking around behind it.

  "No," I say, stepping a little closer but still feeling nauseous.

  "It is," she says. "It really is. It's like... nothing I've ever seen before."

  I get as close as I dare. "Be careful," I say. "It might be dangerous."

  "What's it going to do?" she asks, smiling. "Bite me to death?"

  "I'm not -" I start to say, but I stop as I realize that it has started to slowly open its mouth, with a thin film of gum between its lips suggesting this is something it hasn't done for quite a while.

  It's a head. A human head, suspended in the middle of the room. But it's not just a head. For one thing, there are no eyes: where the eyes should be, there's a large cable coming out of each socket, winding its way up to the ceiling. Also, the back of the head has been split open, the skull pulled away, and the most amazing series of wires is coming out from the brain and running to the walls, disappearing into sockets. Finally, a thick, heavy-looking cable runs out from the bottom of the skull and connects to the floor. The whole head is just suspended like this.

  It looks to be an oldish man, maybe in his 50s or even 60s. The whole set-up looks very clean, very medical, as if someone spent an obscene amount of money on this. And as I look over at the other side of the room, I spot something hanging on the wall. I walk over and realize that it's a human heart, suspended in a small box, with one of the wires from the back of the head running straight into the heart muscle itself.

  "The heart beat," I say, staring at it.

  Darla comes over and looks. "Beautiful," she says.

  "I told you I heard a heartbeat in the walls of the building," I say. "I was right."

  We go back over to the head. The mouth is still moving slightly.

  "He's alive," Darla says. She looks at the cables that fan out from his exposed brain. "He's plugged into the whole building. He's..." She pauses, then she runs back through to the other room. I follow, and find her looking at the monitors. "Fuck," she says. "Look."

  I take another look at the screens. All they contain is rows and rows of data, flashing past so fast it's impossible to read anything.

  "Nervous system, organs, skin..." Darla says, able to read the data despite how fast it's moving. "This man's entire body is spread throughout the building. His blood is being pumped through the walls. His nervous system is part of the structure. It's like they've expanded his body to include the building as part of it."

  "You have transgressed!" calls a voice from back in the other room.

  Darla and I exchange a worried glance.

  "You have transgressed!" the voice calls again.

  We go back to the door.

  "You have transgressed!" the head is saying, its voice sounding old and tired.

  "If we've transgressed," Darla says, "what the hell have you done?"

  "I am Franklin Blaum," the head says. "I am the architect. I am the building. You are in the process of transgressing at this moment. Do you not see? You are not meant to be here."

  Darla steps into the room, approaching the head. "My friend was down in reception. He had wires running into the back of his head. Those wires came from here, didn't they? They came from your skull."

  "You have transgressed," the head says. "You have deactivated one of my guards."

  "He's not your guard," Darla says, sounding angry. "He's my friend. His name's Eddie. Or... he was. Not anymore. You killed him."

  "I need guards," the head says. "I need to protect myself."

  "Not by killing other people," Darla says. "You didn't have to do that."

  "You must leave," the head says. "But you must leave your bodies behind. I need them."

  "Do you?" Darla asks. "Why? Because this building eats people?"

  "I need to consume," the head says. "I have locked all the exits. You cannot break out. You must remain here. You must be consumed as well."

  "I don't think so," Darla says.

  "We have to go," I say, stepping forward. "We have to go and help my friend. You've got to open the doors."

  "I can't," the head says. "If I open the doors, they will get in."

  "Who?" I ask.

  "You," the head says.

  "We're already in," I reply.

  "Exactly," the head says. "Which shows how easy it is."

  I look over at Darla, who has a puzzled look on her face.

  "It's eating me," the head says suddenly. It sounds confused, almost scared. "It's probably jealous of me, because I'm the world's greatest architect. That's why it grew. That's why is devours me day by day."

  "What does?" Darla asks.

  "I killed your friend," the head says. "But only because I was scared. I need to defend myself. No-one will help me."

  "I'll help you," I say, stepping forwards.

  "What are you doing?" Darla hisses.

  "Helping," I say. I reach out and put a hand on the side of the head's face.

  "Is that you?" the head asks.

  "It's me," I say. "If you tell me what you want, and if I do it, will you let us leave?"

  There's a pause. "I'll think about it," says the head. "I might do.
Is that good enough?"

  "I have a better plan," says Darla. "Why don't we kill the head with fire, and then blast our way out of this fucking place."

  "No," the head says. "You can't kill me!"

  "I can," Darla says.

  "It's eating me!" the head shouts, panicking.

  "What is?" I ask. "Tell me what the problem is!"

  The head twitches. "It's getting too big."

  "What?" I ask again, raising my voice a little.

  "I think I see what he means," Darla says.

  I look at her, then I turn to see what she's looking at. In the corner of the room, a large wall panel seems to be moving, straining, as if something behind it is trying to force its way through.

  "What is that thing?" I ask.

  "It's devouring me," the head says. "It wants to eat my brain. It thinks... It thinks that if it eats my brain, it will become a genius, like me."

  Darla gives a snort of contempt. "For a genius," she says, "you don't half talk a lot of crap."

  I walk over to the panel. It's as if it's alive, as if whatever's behind the panel is breathing. It's moving slowly and rhythmically.

  "Careful," Darla says.

  I turn to her. "We need to get out of here, right?" I say. "Whatever this thing is, I'm sure two werewolves can handle it."

  "Werewolves?" the head asks. "Where? Don't let any werewolves near me."

  I step to the side and try to kick the panel away. Although it's loose, it doesn't quite come off, so I kick it again and this time it clatters to the floor. Behind the panel, a large bloody blob is pulsating. It's hideous, and for the second time today I think I might be about to throw up.

  "What the fuck is that?" Darla asks, coming over to take a closer look.

  "It's devouring me," the head says.

  "Cancer," I say slowly. Darla looks at me. "Cancer," I repeat. "This is cancer. The building has cancer."

  Darla peers closer at the large, pulsating blob. Blood oozes from its red, black and purple surface. "Cool," she says. "But how?"

  "He must have had cancer when they plugged him into the building," I say. "It's definitely cancer. Trust me. I recognize the smell."

  "You had cancer?" Darla asks.

  "Not me," I say. I walk back over to the head. "Your entire body is in this building, isn't it?"

  "Yes," the head says. "I was going to be the greatest, most famous architect of all time. I was going to live on through history. I was going to become part of my own building."

  "But the cancer took over," I say. "Did you know you had cancer when you agreed to do all this?"

  "I knew I was dying," the head says. "But I had no idea the cancer would make the leap with me. I assumed... I assumed..."

  "Never assume," I say, heading back over to the large blob.

  "Look," says Darla. For a moment, we see a human hand emerge from the blob before being sucked back in. "It's eating people. The building that eats people, just like Jeremy said."

  "How do we kill it?" I ask.

  Darla shrugs.

  I run across the room and into the next room. Looking about, I spot an access panel on the wall. I go and pull it off, and there's another blob pulsating in there. I go out into the corridor, then I run along to the window at the far end. There's a panel in the ceiling, which I pull away to reveal another blob. The whole building must be infested. There's cancer throughout the entire body.

  Heading back through to the main room, I find Darla is poking the blob with one of the spades.

  "It's everywhere," I say.

  "You have transgressed," the head says.

  "Shut up," Darla and I both say at the same time.

  There's a pause. "Help me," the head says.

  I look at Darla and shake my head.

  "It hurts," the head says. "I had no idea it would be so painful."

  "What the fuck?" Darla shouts. I turn to see that part of her leg has been consumed by the blob. She tries to pull it out, but it seems to be stuck. "This isn't good," she says. I run over and try to help, but her leg seems to be stuck fast. I just back as the blob seems to reach out toward me. "Kill it," Darla says, her voice tinged with worry. "With fire. With ice. With kicks. With love. With anything. Just fucking kill it."

  I turn to look at the head.

  "I know what you're doing," the head says. "You're looking at me. You want to kill me so that the cancer dies. But I won't let you. I'm more powerful than you can possibly imagine, I'm... I'm... I'm unstoppable."

  I stare at the head for a moment, then I walk over. "Do your worst," I say. I put a hand on either side of the head. "I'm really sorry," I say.

  "You mustn't do this," the head says.

  "It's the only way to save my friend," I say. "Maybe both my friends. And your pain will be over. Sometimes... sometimes you can't save everyone. I realize that now."

  "You are transgressing," the head says. "You are transgressing. You are transgressing. You are -"

  I rip the head away. The wires fall from the back of its brain, the cables come out of its eyes, and the base of the skull is ripped from the main supporting cable. I'm left standing in the middle of the room with the wrecked remains of the head.

  "The pain is gone," the head says.

  "You're about to die," I reply.

  "I..." He falls silent, his large empty eye sockets staring up at me. For a moment, I think he's died already, but then his voice returns one last time. "I should have died a long time ago," he says finally. I look over at the beating heart on the wall. It beats a couple more times, and then it stops and just sits there. It's dead. The architect is dead. The building is dead.

  "Fucking wanking bollocks!" Darla shouts as she's finally able to pull her leg out of the blob.

  "Are you okay?" I ask, running over.

  She checks her leg, which seems to be undamaged. "Yeah," she says. She pulls up her trouser leg. There's a slight cut, but nothing more. "That could have been a lot worse," she says. "We have to get out of here." She looks at head in my hands. "What are you gonna do with him?"

  I look down at the head. "What do you always do with someone who's dead?" I ask. "I'm going to bury him."

  "It's just a head," Darla says. "Leave it here."

  She tries to take the head, but I keep hold of it.

  "He was a human being!" I say firmly. "He deserves a little respect. He deserves more in death than he got in life."

  Darla shrugs. "Sometimes," she says dryly, "I'm reminded of the fact that you weren't born a werewolf."

  I look down at the old man's head, with all the wires and junk sticking out of it. I swear, I've never been religious, but at this moment I'm struck by how this man's body has been ravaged by technology. This shouldn't have happened. None of this should have happened. And the idea of giving him a proper burial, no matter how absurd and pointless it might seem, feels like the right thing to do.

  Jess

  With the building now dead, the doors are deactivated and we manage to get out quickly. As soon as we arrive at the cemetery, we start looking for a fresh grave. It's dark and we struggle to see much at all, but eventually Darla calls me over and I find her standing beside what appears to be a freshly disturbed patch of soil with no headstone.

  "This has to be it," she says.

  I put the head on the ground and Darla and I begin to dig. Working by moonlight, it's hard to see what we're doing and it seems to take forever. Eventually we get five or six feet down, but there's no sign of a body so far.

  "Maybe we should look for other graves," Darla says.

  "He's here," I say. "I swear he's here."

  At that moment, my spade strikes something under the soil. I throw the spade to one side and get down on my hands and knees, hurrying to dig it out. After a few seconds, I find that I'm holding a foot. I pull and a whole leg emerges from the soil.

  "It's him!" I shout.

  Darla helps me to pull, and soon there are two legs free. But as we pull one final time, the legs and low
er part of the torso come away, but there's no sign of the rest of him. It's just his lower half.

  "What the hell?" Darla says.

  "It's him," I say. "I recognize the clothes."

  I push the legs aside and start digging by hand. The rest of his body has to be here somewhere.

  "We need the top half," Darla says, helping me to dig. "It's the part with the head and the brain that regrows, the legs are just garbage now."

  But after digging for a few minutes, it seems like the top half of Duncan's body is nowhere to be found. This is crazy. Why would someone bury the lower half, the half that can't regrow, on hallowed ground when it's the top half that poses the danger? It doesn't make any sense.

  "Look!" Darla says suddenly.

  I look and see what appears to be the start of a small tunnel.

  "What the fuck," Darla says. She grabs a torch and shines it down the hole. "It goes downwards," she says. She turns to me. "He dug his way out of his own grave. He went down."

  "That doesn't make sense," I say. "Why wouldn't he try to get up to the surface?"

  Darla sighs. "I have no idea." She turns and looks at the pair of dismembered legs attached to the lower half of Duncan's torso. "He got split in half, and the top half crawled away by digging this tunnel with his bare hands." She smiles. "This Duncan guy sounds pretty cool. Can't wait to meet him."

  "We've got to find him first," I say. I grab the torch from Darla and I start crawling into the tunnel, but she holds me back.

  "Wait," she says. "You don't know what's down there. It's not even remotely safe."

  "I've got to find him," I say.

  "You've found half of him!" Darla replies, indicating the lower half that we recovered. "The other half's somewhere. If he got away from the hallowed ground in time, he'll be able to regrow his entire body."

  "And he'll need me," I say, pulling away from her. But I only get a meter or so down the tunnel before I find that it's blocked. I pull back out. "The roof must have caved in." I stare at Darla. "There's no way to find him now. He could be anywhere."