45. Pounds of Flesh
"Why are you using that weak thing on him?"
"You know very well that if I used any real weapon on him, he'd
crack in an instant."
"Oh, that's right. You're just doing this to have fun, aren't you?"
"Yes."
"I forgot. Or maybe I was only trying to. Whatever."
The voices slipped through Frank's ears, although he could barely
register them. His mind spun. He had been unconscious for most of his torture,
but it never stopped, even though most of his body had been mutilated. At first,
he thought he would die within minutes, but now he knew that Grayson had been
keeping him alive on purpose, toying with him through all the pain.
He tried to open eyes and look around with blurred, shaky vision. Grayson
and Madeleine stood in front of him.
The Vice-President of the Zexaron Corporation held a bloody whip at his
side, smiling gleefully. Frank knew that no matter what he said, he'd only be giving
Grayson what he wanted. He couldn't help but scream when his flesh was ripped from
his bones, but he vowed to do no more than that.
"I bet you're wondering why I'm doing this, Arazia." Grayson
looked deep into Frank's fading eyes, piercing the small residue that remained of
his soul. "I bet you're wondering what reason I could possibly have
for committing such a heinous crime. I bet it's simply eating you up inside."
Frank shifted his tongue around in his bloody, parched throat.
"Do you wish to know?" Grayson leaned closer, and Frank could
feel the man's warm breath upon his ear.
Frank watched him bleakly. He knew he'd be hearing it either way.
"Your futility," Grayson replied quickly. "I don't care
that you were snooping around town, Arazia, and I don't care that you destroyed
my car. But your futile existence irritates me. The way you flounder and fight
despite a clear prophecy of inevitable failure – it irritates me to my very core.
Why can’t you simply accept your fate like everyone else?"
Grayson continued to grin, waiting for any sort of response from Frank.
"Don't think that I hate you, because that's not it at all. I just
want to help you understand your true place in this universe."
Grayson turned to Madeleine. "I need to attend a team meeting with
Cecilia. Hold the fort until I come back."
Madeleine grunted.
"I'm serious, Madeleine. I want to see your face, and I want to
see you promise that you'll obey my orders."
Madeleine turned her freckled face up so that Grayson could see it. "I
won't let you down," she said loudly.
Grayson nodded curtly, then disappeared behind the iron door. Madeleine
turned back to Frank, eyeing his ravaged body.
"Can you still talk, or did he rip out your vocal cords?" she
asked.
Frank's eyes lit up in shock for a moment, but lost their fire just as
quickly. He opened his mouth and let out a short, monotone groan.
"I was just wondering." Madeleine shrugged. "That's what
he did to McCarthy before he killed him. He removed all the muscles from the
guy's body, then just let him hang there like a sack of meat. Pretty weird."
Frank tried to read the girl's emotions, but she seemed not to care that
he was flayed and bleeding. It was a new layer to Grayson's torment.
"The whole time, McCarthy just sat there, trying to scream, but nothing
would come out. So he just flapped around. And–"
"Who are you?" Frank managed to croak out, trying to stifle the
girl's chilling narrative.
"My name's Madeleine. Your name's Frank, right?"
Frank nodded.
"You've done pretty well to hang on this long." Madeleine said
with admiration. "And you don't make any funny sounds or anything."
"Are you...his...daughter?" Frank wheezed.
"No way," Madeleine laughed. "I don't look anything like
him, do I? You better not answer that! I'm just a friend of his. Same with
Cecilia. Well, have fun down here." Madeleine waved, moving to leave.
"Grayson shouldn't be back for a while."
"Wait!" Frank shouted. "Where are you going?!"
"I'm going to play video games. There's no way I'm gonna sit down here
until Grayson comes back. I'd die from boredom."
"Please..." Frank wheezed. "I beg you, please. I’ll do
anything. Just let me out."
"No way!" Madeleine shouted. "He won't find out if I play
video games, but if I let you loose, Grayson will get soooo mad at me. It won't
even be funny."
Frank tried again. "Please...I'm going to die down here."
"So what?" Madeleine asked sharply. "Lots of people died
down here. And besideds, you’re the one who decided to piss him off. Why should
I stick out my neck for you?"
"Wait!" Frank screamed as Madeleine shut the iron door behind
her, leaving him alone in his living hell.
"Why?" he whimpered, tears mixing in with the dried blood along
his body.
*************
"Why?!"
Edward had been moving down the stairs in the front lobby of the Zexaron
building when he heard the sound. It was extremely muffled the first time he
heard it, so he discounted it as mere background noise. But the second time, he
heard it loud and clear.
Things had not been going well for Edward lately. Then again, when had things
ever gone well? The past months had been a blur, mostly because he hadn't done
anything of merit. Although he saw his co-workers every day, they all left
early before dinner, leaving Edward behind to close up the building and do any
extra filing that was needed at the end of the day. Naomi was always there when
he got home, but they never talked anymore. She was in her own world, as was he.
Naomi hadn't even come home last night, which hadn’t surprised Edward
in the slightest. She worked for Grayson now, no doubt servicing him in other
ways. Edward didn't mind, really. He didn't feel like he loved her anymore.
Now, Edward stood in the darkness of the Zexaron lobby, listening to
that faint, guttural scream coming from somewhere below the earth. It sounded like
a man, but even that was questionable. He hadn't heard it until reaching the ground
floor, which meant...
Is there even a basement in this place? Edward let the question fall through the recesses
of his mind, trying to recover any sort of information about the building that
he had forgotten in the past. No one's ever mentioned the subject, not even Grayson.
He backtracked a bit and entered one of the company's elevators, studying
the keypad intently. While there was no visible basement button, he did spy a
mysterious extra keyhole at the bottom of the pad. Edward pulled out the heavy key
ring that Grayson had bestowed upon him when he began his new position and
started trying the keys.
Get a hold of yourself, Ed...That heavy green melancholy fell over him again as he tried key after
key. Why are you wasting your time with this? If it led to something
important, why would Grayson give you a key for it?! You're his slave...his
doll. And the best part of it all is, you know it – and you don't care...because
you've given up.
That's probably true... Edward remarked. Nothing matters to me anymore. But in that case, who
cares either way?
Suddenly, the thirteenth key slid deep into the keyhole, clicking and
turning with ease.
I'm too stupid. Edward
watched the lobby button light up on the keypad as he pressed it with his thumb.
I'm far too stupid to be doing any of this.
The elevator descended into darkness. After a few moments, the contraption
came to a stop, and the doors slid open, letting in a burst of cool, stagnant
air.
"Somebody!" The voice was much louder and clearer now. Edward
couldn't decide if it was the voice of an older or younger man. It sounded so
withered and defeated, like someone on the verge of death.
Then, as he crept closer...it started to sound like Frank.
Edward dashed down the hallway, which was dimly lit by fragile metal light
fixtures that had seen better days. He soon entered a large room filled with machinery,
and had to duck to avoid hitting his head on a hanging metal pipe. Like an
explorer in a metal jungle, Edward crept warily through the maze as the screaming
got louder. He made his way to a steel door on the opposite side of the room
and wrapped his hand around the handle, slowly yet firmly.
"Let me out!" Edward could hear Frank's screech loud and clear
from the other side. It was him. But was he alone?
Edward had heard the dying voice of his friend, and from that moment on,
his fate had been sealed. I can't leave. Nothing to do now...but open the door.
Edward shoved open the iron seal and set his eyes upon the mutilated
body of Frank Arazia. His splayed arms and legs were bony and bloodstained,
with scraps of flesh hanging off here and there. Bruises tattooed his face, which
still looked better than his mangled body. It seemed as if the desecration of
his chest and stomach had been done with precision, for the damage looked quite
meticulous and concise. Frank's flesh had been stripped straight from his body.
"E-Ed..." Frank coughed up blood, turning his head to get a good
look at the only friend he had left in the world. "You’re here..."
"Frank." Edward’s mind felt clearer than it had been in years.
"Did he do this to you?"
Frank nodded slowly, blood pouring from his temple. "He..."
"Don't speak anymore." Edward moved shakily over to his
friend. "I'm going to get you out of here, Frank. And then we're going to
go kill our boss."
Next: Blackened Fate
