55. Necrophagy Elegy
Edward and Frank spent the bulk of the afternoon in Dr. Phileas’ lavish
study, pouring over his extensive tomes and files. Each of them sat in a
leather armchair surrounded by bookshelves, talking intermittently as they
pursued greater knowledge.
"This is all connected to the files I found in Grayon’s secret
room," Edward marveled. "But they talked about other things too. Earth...the
oil fields..."
"It’s been a long time since that night," Frank said absently.
"I don’t remember what you told me back then."
"It was mostly about the clocks," Edward said. "What
they are, their uses, and how they were related to the Space-Time
Continuum."
Phileas had gone to take care of some patients, giving Edward and Frank
a much-needed break for the day. Slowly, the turmoil in Frank's mind was
buried beneath the treasure trove of data that sat before him. He had been thrown
into another universe, that was true, but it didn't seem to be that fundamentally
different from his own world. The main difference seemed to be the existence of
psynergy, which allowed Enmetropolis to diverge a great deal from the cities of
Earth in its development.
After some time, the men tired of their researching and went to rest out
in the courtyard. Frank Arazia sat down in a comfortable wicker chair, shaded
from the sun by one of the many trees that filled the garden of Paradis
Perdu.
He looked over to Edward, who now slept soundly in his own chair with
his mouth hanging open. If the Zexaron Corporation really was involved in some
inter-dimensional scheme...what did that make Victoria? The ringleader? A pawn that
was disposed of earlier for misbehaving and marrying an Earthling? It made
Frank sick just to think of it. She had been such an amazing woman, and now...the
atrocity of it all just didn't seem to add up.
There has to be more to it. I can't sit around like this any longer, I
need answers!
Frank stood up quietly from his chair and moved back along the cobblestone
pathway that led into the mansion. Glass doors framed by dark cedar opened softly
and gave him immediate access to a quaint resting space decorated with artifacts
and furniture. Spread across the hearth were long, polished bones of what Frank
guessed was some ancient animal. Strange, three-eyed masks with archaic symbols
lined the walls. Curving pedestals with even curvier vases adorned the sides of
the room, and in the back, Frank spotted a large painting that depicted dancing
rodents.
It certainly helped to accentuate Frank’s growing feeling that he was
in a place where he didn’t belong. He passed through the southern door into a narrow
hallway, trying to remember which door would lead him back to the library.
The hallway curved around to the east, and as it went on, the light
grew dimmer and dimmer. Frank walked past door after door, all of them an elegant
shade of brown, each engraved with a symmetrical pattern. Eventually growing
tired and frustrated by his meandering, Frank opened a random door to his left.
The door swung ajar, and he was faced with another hallway.
Frank crept down the hallway cautiously, staring at his "new"
surroundings. Slowly, he felt his throat begin to tighten.
As he took a closer look at the walls, he realized the pattern in this
hall was different. The wallpaper had small squares on it, and the doors were a
dark shade of maroon. Still, it was enough to feel like he was running in circles.
Warily, Frank opened another door. This one creaked open to reveal a
small patient room. Its windows were old and dusty, covered haphazardly by some
semi-transparent blue curtains. They were mostly blocked by overgrown bushes outside,
and as a result, the light was very dim. Frank propped the door open as best he
could and tried to get a better glimpse within the space.
In the center of the room sat a high-rise gurney topped with a slim green
mattress and rusty metal clasps. There were some dark-colored stains on the
edges, and the device was covered with wear and tear. Thankfully for Frank, it
was empty.
Frank moved carefully over to the gurney, and as he did so, the room’s
scarce light slowly seemed to retreat behind him. His shadow grew longer and farther
away from his body, as if yearning to escape. He examined the gurney as it sat
within the center of the room, like some unholy pedestal.
Well, the man is a
doctor...
His eyes crept lower along the bottom left leg of the gurney. Thicker,
larger amounts of the dark stain ran along the leg. It seemed as if whatever
fluid had originally been contained on the table had somehow trickled down
and ended up on the floor, leaving a barely-visible trail over to a small
utility closet in the far right corner of the room.
Frank turned to leave. I shouldn't be doing this. I'm snooping in
another man's house.
Or am I? We deserve the right to know if our caretaker is harboring any
malicious secrets from us, don't we?
But don’t you remember the last time you went snooping through someone’s
things? Argue against that one, Frank. Just try it...
As he turned to leave, he heard wood creak. Was it the wooden floor, the
wooden walls...or the wooden closet in the corner? The creaking continued, yet
Frank was at a total loss as to where the sound came from.
There's something in the closet. It's waiting. It's gonna jump out and
get ya. Grayson's waiting in there for you. He wants to finish what he did before
– and this time he has an expert surgeon to help him in his work.
Come on. You really think you're going to be able to walk all the way
back out to the courtyard and wake up Edward without taking a peek? You've come
this far. You might as well finish the job.
The voices swarmed through Frank's head, coming from an unknown source
deep in the darkness.
This has never happened to me before. I don't talk to myself.
Or do I? How are you supposed to know whether or not you're crazy?
No...this doesn't make any sense.
I can't...I can't tell which thoughts are mine, and which are...
Frank felt himself moving forward, closer, deeper into the room, arm outstretched
toward the wooden closet. It was like he was watching the scene from above. He could
see his body moving in slow motion, grasping the rusty iron handle and pulling the
flimsy wooden door open. From the very beginning, Frank had known deep down
that something horrible lay within.
The object within the closet stared into Frank's soul with lifeless, bloody
eyes. Some skin around its face had either been peeled away or eaten, and windows
to its inner skeleton littered its body. Supported by nothing except flimsy sinew,
its mouth swaggered downward. Jagged lips and a bloody lower jaw were perfectly
visible in the dim light. It had been crammed into the closet in a rough manner,
head curved to the side, neck snapped. Formed into a sort of curved square, its
legs were folded neatly under its gaping head.
Frank's eyes scanned the thing, noticing the many incisions, cuts, and
tears over its surface. It was a dead human, that was true, but it was far from
a normal corpse. It seemed no longer human – deader than dead.
His eyes stopped momentarily on the being's left arm – no more than a
miniature stump now, with a bloodied, scrapped hole where the forearm should have
been. Frayed muscle and tissue hung out of the jagged, decomposing hole. Everything
looked ragged and torn, as if some animal had taken the arm within its jaws.
Pieces of gnawed bone stuck out in the center, perfectly accentuating the
grotesque nature of it all.
Frank stared down at its thigh, which had a large, deep, bite wound in
it.
There's something very wrong here.
Blood had spilled from the body's jugular, staining its body in an
eerie, tie-dye-like pattern.
I have to get out of here...right...now...
"Everyone has skeletons in their closet."
The cold hand of Dr. Nord Phileas closed on Frank's shoulder, startling
the man and causing him to cry out in surprise.
"Hush," Phileas said, as Frank whirled around to stare him
straight in the eye. A sinister sublimity now emanated from the doctor's face as
he stood there, gazing at Frank in the faint light. "I see you got lost."
"What the hell is that?" Frank screamed. "Why...why is there
a mutilated man in your closet?"
"A failed experiment," Phileas spoke methodically. "But not
entirely useless."
"What do you mean?"
Phileas’ face was only slightly visible in the dim light. "I didn’t
want to scare you at breakfast...so I may have twisted a few details regarding
my ability. I can manipulate human bodies with my psynergy, that much is true.
For example, I can seize control and turn off their pain sensors, then carefully
remove their liver. They can calmly watch as I take that warm, pulsating organ
of theirs and engulf it within my own body. Due to the nature of my ability, by
accepting their parts, I can allocate all the energy and nutrients they have to
give."
Frank stumbled backwards as he began to process what the doctor was
telling him. "You mean–"
"It's not a crime," Phileas insisted. "It's the path to enlightenment.
They all live on within me."
As Frank placed his hand on the corner of the wall to support himself,
he realized he was shivering again.
"Come, you're obviously a bit tired from your exploration."
Phileas placed his arm around Frank, who was powerless to resist. "You still
are in my debt, you do realize, so you would do well not to make more of this issue
than what has already transpired. Please, just enjoy yourself. If you can do that,
then you will continue to have a relaxing stay here, I promise."
Frank listened, as his mind worked furiously. Why can't I escape from
this? Why does doom seem to follow us wherever we go? What did I do? Just what the
hell did I do?
*
"Life is but a dream...and death is an awakening."
Saffron Morrigan blew a handful of rose petals from his palm, then
watched as they scattered into the wind and spiraled down to the arena below.
"In that case, why don't you just go kill yourself?" Bruce muttered
as he scanned the horizon. The sun was finally beginning to set.
Saffron and Bruce stood atop one of the many rectangular hyperneon light
fixtures around the perimeter of the Belmarcian Tournament complex, high above
the huge stadium where the final rounds were scheduled to take place. Using the
blueprints that Roufas and Bruce had retrieved from their informant months ago,
the Zodiacs had studied every layer of the complex and the many security
systems set up within. With the knowledge and abilities of Cecilia, Winslow,
and even Madeleine, acquiring high-level access to the entire building had been
a simple task. The only problem was the Clock – it was scheduled to arrive at
the complex the morning of the event, and only the committee members knew exactly
where it would be held.
"Some claim life a nightmare, and wouldst do well t'off themselves!"
Saffron continued, spiraling around on the top of the frame that encased the lights.
"For others, 'tis an illustrious dreamscape, a cacophony of wondrous events
and excitements!"
"'zat so?" Bruce grunted.
"Forsooth, we must live suicidally," Saffron exclaimed.
"For every moment doth herald the end."
"Well, you'll get that chance tomorrow, I guarantee it," Bruce
retorted. "You remember what you're supposed to do, right?"
"Naturally." Saffron grinned at Bruce. "Fight a valiant
fight! Soar to the summit!"
"Well, sure, but..." Bruce rubbed his forehead. "Do you
remember who you're supposed to look out for?"
Saffron nodded. "My anticipation hast ne'er been greater."
"Good," Bruce said, watching Saffron carefully. "Then we're
all set for tomorrow, right? No more questions."
"None hath I." Then, Saffron looked over Bruce's shoulder.
"And thee, Averyl?"
"What?!" Bruce swerved around.
The top of the lighting fixture was only wide enough for two. But
sure enough, Averyl stared up at the Tiger with a wry grin. Clad in plain black
strapless boots, his legs intertwined in the metal wiring that ran around the fixtures.
The 12th Zodiac hung from them like a true monkey, showing no signs of fatigue.
"You!" Bruce screamed below. "Bout damn time you showed
up! I was beginning to think you got killed or something."
Averyl smirked. "I appreciate you worrying about me, but I assure
you that I am in fine condition."
"Who said anything about worrying? It was wishful thinking."
Averyl narrowed his eyes. "My mistake, then."
"Well?" Bruce asked. "Where the hell have you been? That
wasn't a rhetorical question! I didn't even see you last night, when we were chasing
the Daughter...a job you should have finished off a long time ago!"
"Ah, about that." Averyl raised a finger to his lips.
"Yes, it seems that I lost track of them. Good thing you found them for me."
"Either way, we decided to back off. Didn’t want to ruin our plans
for the tournament."
"Smart. I see Roufas was with you."
"What's that supposed to mean?!" Bruce roared.
Saffron cleared his throat. "Averyl, do teach us of thy whereabouts.
We recall thy search for the Daughter with mirth, so steeped in jest it doth be."
"If you say so," Averyl began. "You see, I forgot our room
number. Actually, now that I think about it, no one ever told me...but I was
content to sleep in the streets for a week or so. It was particularly amusing when
I was attacked by men in an alleyway. They screamed so much..."
"So you're telling us..." Bruce's forehead pulsated.
"That you slept in the streets for over a week, and you didn't think to
contact any of us? Not even once?"
"I didn't want to distract anyone from their preparations for the tournament,"
Averyl continued. "Because it seems like certain people get so angry when
I’m around."
"You think I'm angry?!" As Bruce screamed, flames leapt from his
nostrils. "Wait until I gut you like a fish, then you'll know I'm angry!"
Averyl swung gracefully upward, completing a 180-degree arc and landing
on the edge of the light fixture, centimeters away from Bruce's steaming face.
"Is that a threat...Mr. Tiger?"
"Yeah..." Bruce hissed, closing his enormous fist around Averyl's
thin neck. "It's a threat."
Averyl let a choked laugh escape his lips as his throat was semi-crushed
by Bruce's death grip. As he calmly watched the two struggle, Saffron moved to
the opposite end of the fixture. The thin æsotech beams that were supporting the
lights rumbled beneath their fluctuating auras. It wouldn't hold for long.
Bruce watched the violet streams emitting from Averyl's body with
curious eyes. "Just what are you hiding from us, you son of a bitch?"
Averyl merely grinned with his large black eyes.
Saffron's phone began to ring, so he pulled it out from his armor and
answered it. "Yes, Rabbit?"
"Dog?" Roufas's voice echoed. "Are you there? The Tiger isn't
answering. Are you with him?"
"I am indeed," Saffron replied. "How may we be of service?"
"Everyone's planning to meet back at the hotel in about ten minutes,"
Roufas explained. "Except for the Ox, who's gone missing, everyone else should
be present. Thanks to the hard work of the Rat, the Dragon is finally back in working
condition."
"My thanks to the good doctor," Saffron said.
"As you may know, our dear Rat is the only one capable of handling
the kind of surgery the Dragon requires. Now, please put the Tiger on."
"Pray hold." Saffron casually tossed the phone in Bruce's
direction.
Bruce dropped Averyl, swerved and caught the device between his thumb
and forefinger. As Averyl plummeted, he materialized hooks from his feet, which
snagged onto the wiring halfway down from the top of the fixture.
"'sup?" Bruce spoke into the phone, as he wiped a massive
amount of sweat from his brow.
"Why weren't you answering your phone, Tiger?" Roufas asked.
"Is something wrong?"
"Nothing I can't take care of," Bruce sighed. "I'll be
over right away." With that, Bruce tossed the phone back to Saffron.
"Let's go!"
Bruce took a flying leap off the building, and Saffron followed suit.
Averyl glided along after them, falling at a slower speed with the aid of
materialized wings. Eventually, the three landed on the asphalt alley behind the
complex grounds, neutralizing the impact with their power. A quick jog later, they
were back to the entrance to the Neon Mirage. It didn't take long for them
to spot Grayson Lee walking through the lobby doors – the real Snake, in the
flesh.
"Grayson!" Bruce called out. "You ready for tomorrow,
man?"
"Yes," Grayson spun around calmly, giving his allies a
friendly nod. "I’m eager for the tournament to begin." His eyes
drifted over to the Monkey. "It’ll allow us to wrap up so many loose ends...won’t
it, Averyl?"
