by L Ward
He wished he hadn’t asked.
“Shh!” Will hissed and crouched low. They followed suit, hands shaking and breath coming in short pants. The further they crept the more sounds they heard; behind many of the doors came cries of pain or low, agonising humanoid moans.
Evan didn’t allow himself to imagine what beings could make such noises, or what was happening to make them do it. Strange languages whispered on the cool breeze that swept the corridor. He shivered and tried to focus on maintaining silence. Terror became his very best friend when they stopped outside a door with a drawing of three vials full of coloured liquid. The words scribbled beside them were almost illegible.
“Think that says chemicals,” said Will.
“This is one of our locations,” Nath said firmly.
They took a moment to listen and peeled open the door.
Chapter 30
Glass tubes stretched from floor to ceiling filled with pink and orange smoke. The right-hand wall was lined with a rainbow of test tubes, their contents labelled intricately, some in languages Evan had never seen before.
The pattern continued with flasks and corked jars stacked in pristine rows or stored in marked crates.
“Hormones, Serotonin, DMT…” Will read as they walked the rows, careful not to touch anything.
“Tranquillisers, cursed water, liquid demon fire, steroids…” said Nath.
“Enlargement solutions, eyesight enhancement, neurological stimulators, poison…” Evan stared at the jars of eyes; they stared right back.
“And these are just some of the things they administer,” said Nath. “Powdered metals, faerie blood, dragon saliva, demon spinal fluid.”
“What the fuck are they doing to these creatures?” Evan breathed.
“Experimenting on them. It’s quite cold in here but many of the corpses were charred or otherwise maimed so this cannot be the main lab,” said Nath. He looked about quickly, “it’s not worth touching any of this, let’s keep going.”
They headed back to the door when loud dragging footsteps outside and a pair of rumbling voices made them freeze.
Evan was grabbed, Nath's hand clamping over his mouth, and pulled behind a stack of crates in the corner.
“Shh…”
The trio crouched behind a stack of metal containers labelled WALRUS FEATHERS and Nath turned on the darkness. The doors clattered open and heavy footfalls rocked the room.
“The doctor wants centaurian cerebral fluid,” said a heavy female voice. “Why are all the lights off?”
Pause.
Will peered around the crate much to Nath’s fury. “An orc and warlock,” he breathed.
“Another one of the doctor’s irresponsible security guards. Look at the jars of cursed water right here, if anyone knocks them over and gets it on their skin it’s goodnight them,” a young man with a strong Welsh accent replied from somewhere near the door.
“Cursed water won’t hurt my kind,” said the orc. “Only small warlocks like you and humans.”
A flicker of irritation trickled from the warlock. “That’ll do now, orc. Come on, back to the doctor.”
“I need a crate for these. The doctor needs a full batch because he’s administering them tonight,” said the orc.
Evan and Nath exchanged glances.
“He wants these taken to the pits; the latest batch are ready for shipment by the end of the week.”
“Very well,” said the warlock. “I’ll leave you to it- oh- and, orc? Do make sure to leave the prison wing unlocked, Lord Scarletarian is coming for inspection and last time he was locked out of the pits when administrations were due. He was furious- sent word to Undermouth and everything.”
The orc grunted and the man’s tiny footsteps died away. They hung back praying she wouldn’t notice them as she fumbled around with heavy hands. Glassware chinked as she boxed it up and left with a thunderous bang.
“That’s where we’re going then,” said Nath.
Evan’s brows furrowed. “The pits you told us about.”
“We need to see what they’re actually doing and plant these,” he pulled three rough black stones from his pocket and dissipated the darkness so they could see.
Stunned, Evan blinked himself into focus and took one. “What is it?”
“Wet them and we’ll have thirty minutes until detonation. We plant them; we get out.”
“You’re playing a dangerous game here, Nath,” said Will, “but I like it.”
Nath grinned and Will accepted a vial of water, coating the rock he slotted it into a hole at the bottom of the crate.
“Thirty minutes, Your Majesty.”
Nath checked the time on his watch.
They were back at the door in moments; the corridor in seconds. Steel doors barricaded the sounds of ragged breathing, endless muttering and howls of pain to a minimum. Each one labelled with Contaminate Room and an assorted Roman numeral. Store cupboards were sprinkled about like garbage.
Evan’s breath snatched when he heard two Welsh voices behind a door arguing loudly.
They reached a crossroads and a signpost. The pits were on the top floor where the monsters could be subject to the full-moon’s gaze.
A door behind them flew open and the irate voices stepped into the corridor.
Evan’s heart was a guitar string humming to the tune of mayhem. They took off at a run, following the corridor to another platform.
“There’s someone running around up here,” said one of the warlocks.
“I think we’ve got a loose monster,” said the other.
“Devil’s spawn! On the night the inspector arrives?!”
“Smells like a werewolf!”
Will looked ready to be sick as they jumped aboard, voices tailing them, and took off into the dark ceiling. Floors whizzed past and lights flashing an epileptic nightmare until they skidded to a halt at the top.
Coldness seeped through Evan's clothes, brushing aside his armour and slapping his skin raw. It smelled of blood and was lit by a couple of burning embers. Nath plunged them into darkness, invisible, and they walked on eggshells until they met another guarded grate. An odd sense of calm washed over him as they examined it. Furious forked bars burned a deep red and it stretched from floor to ceiling. He didn’t want to think about how quickly they’d be fried if they touched it carelessly.
Fortunately, it was open thanks to the orc. Nath raised a hand.
Behind them the platform arrived and footsteps clattered on the metal. The trio whipped round and pressed as close to the wall as they could. Evan prayed for their safety and thanked Nath’s wonderful magic for concealment.
“Why is it so dark in here?” said a male voice.
“Strange…” a raspy gentleman replied.
There was a strong smell of incense and charcoal that Evan recognised as warlocks. They were only a few feet away now. He felt Nath reach out and touch his fingers reassuringly.
“I see this time they’ve bothered to let me in,” the first man said again, he must’ve been Lord Scarletarian. Evan watched him pass through the faint torchlight on his right, it cast a harrowing shadow of a long-faced harsh-looking man with glittering onyx eyes.
“They keep it locked to stop lower floormen entering. Unfortunately not all of our staff are of reasonable intellect.”
“The corpse sorters,” said the Lord.
“Among them, yes.”
They paused before the gate; the elderly gentleman gazed up at the shard.
“Come along now, Reeves. I’ve an induction to witness on behalf of the Governor.”
Evan whipped round to stare wide-eyed at Nath. He was inches away and barely visible in the dark but his intent was clear and time was ticking.
The older gentlemen turned back very slowly and stared down the corridor. The gate’s light and torches were enough to illuminate them both. Reeves looked like a haggard old crone wearing mourning robes and a heavy silver chain around his neck. Lord Scarletarian was a man of
nightmares and pretend aristocracy with sinister dark eyes, long dark hair and a viciously pointed foxlike face.
“Very well then, sir,” said Reeves. He turned and led the Lord through the gate, raising a frosted hand to the simmering bars, he yanked it shut with a violent spark that singed the floor. With one last glance at the darkness, the two men disappeared.
“Wait a moment,” Nath said as Will made to step from the wall. They paused, took a breath and watched the shard glow a brief minty green before returning to pale blue. “He was checking the signal.” He waited another few seconds before raising a palm and shorting it out.
“He could probably sense us. He’s wearing a reaper’s livery and we don’t smell like dead experiments,” said Will.
“How do you know?” Nath shot him a suspicious look.
“Heard me Mam and Dad talking about it once.”
Nath eyed him strangely.
“He’s probably overseeing the disposal and management of their dead, like the funeral director,” he added.
“Only here your coffin is a waste disposal unit and your funeral is a succession of flies on your corpse,” Evan winced.
“They’re not human,” Will frowned.
“The werewolves are,” said Nath.
The silence was deafening and the unwelcome figure of awkwardness stepped from the shadows.
“We need to get through the gate,” Nath said quickly.
“I can do it,” said Evan. He stepped forward and felt the magic sing to his fingertips coating them in purity, he touched the gate and felt his magic burn as it swung open and they stepped onto the staircase, ascending the pits.
The temperature dropped further as they reached two torches burning at the top. Will checked the coast was clear before proceeding. It smelled of caged animals and industrial strength disinfectant. Their footsteps were harrowing, moving at pace, any slight sound sent them on edge. Distant snarls, whines and crashes reminded them they were not alone. Any second security could burst out on them. They passed a door engraved with the words: Brewing Station.
Evan didn’t want to know what was behind it.
A door up ahead opened and they dived behind a trolley full of paper towel rolls. Evan’s heart was beating a tattoo as footsteps quickly approached and two women speaking a foreign language unlocked one of the storage rooms beside them.
Nath jerked his head and they crept past trying to grasp onto any familiar wording. Further along the corridor they came across a huge glass room with a horrendous restraining contraption in the center. Thick buckles dangled from all sides and a large bloodstained corkscrew was pointed at the headrest; a sea of blood coated the floor. Nobody could speak and they pressed on, too aware of time ticking when up ahead a door opened and Evan just about died.
Two warlocks in long white medical robes came out huddled over a clipboard and chattering in hushed voices. They walked at pace and swift-turned the corner. Doors clanged and Nath rapped Evan’s arm, jabbing at a sign that said Cell Blocks Experimentation Row 1. They followed it with their hearts in their throats and intestines in knots. The door was another garage grate and Will easily lifted a palm to it watching it turn to molten aluminum, hissing angrily at its own demise.
The smell worsened in the next corridor and a sense of dread settled. Nath’s ears pricked and he held them back from stepping around the corner. Evan fought the urge to speak until he heard voices.
“The patients in here are in larval form preserved in these tanks until hatching day,” the old man rasped. “The date is two moon’s time.”
Lord Scarletarian made a hmm noise and the door clicked loudly.
Nath gestured and they snatched opportunity to take off in the other direction. He couldn’t resist the urge to look. Creatures shone behind barricaded doors, one they passed burst with brilliant amber as something behind it attempted to melt its way out. The air howled with zoological mayhem, it was like a cursed jungle. At the end of the room they were greeted by a gigantic white set of doors that read: Laboratory.
Inside they were met with a horrendous sight. Monsters: half-men half-wolves floated lifeless and deformed in a turquoise gel sealed inside a tube stretching from floor to ceiling. They looked almost mythical. Horrific black fur matted their muscular bodies, their arms and legs bent awkwardly from disfigured joints extending into enormous paws. Their faces had lengthened and contorted and almost all of them boasted a tail. Each one had to be over nine feet tall and built like the deformed bears.
“There’s dozens of them,” Nath whispered.
Magic hummed in the air and everything was coated with dust. Tubes of coloured chemicals and steam interlaced the floor and ceiling and an enormous crystal revolved in a magnetic container. There were panels, signs and canisters full of strange substances and potions.
“It looks like they’re engineering a super race,” Will breathed, he stepped closer revolving around the glowing tube in awe.
“Don’t touch that thing, Will,” Nath said leaning over a crate to examine its contents.
“Were they originally men or wolves?” Evan wondered aloud.
“It looks as though they were werewolves captured at the full moon and fed concoctions of god-knows-what until they became this, trapped between two worlds or somewhere else entirely,” said Nath.
“I can’t tell if they’re conscious or not,” said Will.
“No,” said Evan. “They’re being fed constantly,” he gestured to the glass pipes pumping colourful magic into their bodies giving them a strange aura.
“These are just the werewolves,” Nath swallowed. “Imagine what other horrors are in this place.” He pulled out the second stone and the vial tipping water on it and slotting it beneath the tubes. He checked the time. “Fifteen minutes.”
Evan and Will exchanged looks but before they could move the doors up ahead burst open and in came two doctors beaming in white. They all ducked down and scooted quietly along the floor behind one of the heavy desks.
“The vials have been delivered on time for once,” a bald black man with brilliant amber eyes said in a bouncy welsh accent.
“And Undermouth’s snide inspector will be here any minute to watch you administer them,” said a bristly middle-aged man.
“I’ve heard enough complaints about him to last a lifetime today, Dr Jackson.”
“Whenever he visits this place goes into overdrive and half the staff are thrown out. It makes things twice as difficult, and at a time like this when we’re so close to launch…” The two men exchanged dark looks.
“You’d think with such an important visitor coming the cleaners would have done a better job. The smell in here tonight is outrageous, those tanks are supposed to conceal the smell.”
Will looked as though he wanted to laugh.
“He should be used to the smell by now. Lord he goes by these days. Do you believe it? Perhaps this tour we should include the corpse disposal unit and then he’ll see what there is to complain about.”
They opened the crate and began lifting the vials, examining the black substance within.
“Vials of darkness injected with comet dust. They’ve been stored in a container of moonlight for the last month,” Dr Boris said smoothly, and lifted a cover from a panel at the tube’s base. They peered round watching him crouch over it. Bright orange miniature fireworks erupted above his hands as he worked, filling the machine with the mystical substance. It went on for some time and when the man stood he buffed a sheen of sweat from his forehead. “It’s ready to go.”
“Just in the nick of time then, Dr Boris,” Lord Scarletarian appeared like a phantom in the doorway, making everyone jump.
“A pleasure as always, sir.”
Evan couldn’t see much but the edges of their robes as they shook hands and muttered formalities.
“And these are the specimens,” the Lord said pompously, striding right up to the tube and peering in at one of the werewolves.
“These are the surviving spe
cimens,” Dr Boris corrected.
The lord humphed and began walking around to examine the others. “And they’ll be ready soon?”
“Once I finish feeding them this,” said Boris holding up a single vial. “After they’ve had their dose they’ll be fit for the Governor’s purpose.”
“Good. The Governor wigs my ears relentlessly about this. Too much funding has already gone into these labs and we’ve had a lot of wastage. The wolves will have to hunt more civilians at this rate.”
“Not with these ones, sir,” said Dr Boris, tapping the glass. “This concoction will turn these genetically engineered weremen into killing machines fit for no other purpose. They can be controlled but only by the dark magic master. We’ve created a device in order to do this.”
Lord Scarletarian’s eyes sparkled and he became excited, bouncing on his pointy heels. “What are they capable of?”
“They’re resistant to hexes, jinx work, open flames, very low temperatures, and their coat is like a dragon's hide. On top of that they have enhanced hearing, vision and smell,” said Dr Boris.
“Not to mention they are delightfully infectious,” there was a smile in the Lord’s words. “Are they able to fully contaminate outside the full moon?”
Dr Jackson hesitated a little. “They’re as close as one can get,” he said stiffly.
“At the full moon they’ll be capable of creating an abominable race, otherwise it’ll be a severe form of lycanthropy where they will never retain human mind but will not physically transform outside of the full moon.”
“Impressive! Splendid! Truly fantastic,” the Lord’s applause was slow, voice laced with excitement. “The Governor will be pleased.”
“Thank you, sir.”
Lord Scarletarian bore a shark-like grin. “Shall we get on with it?”
Boris stepped around him and forced the vials into the panel, but before he could insert the last vial something happened.
Nath was on his feet, hands balled and raised, moonlight radiating from his enclosed palm. “I don’t fucking think so.”