Welcome To Hell.A.

by Stephens, L.

  “Max, what are you doing?” she whispered.

  Max’s features were shrouded by the darkness of the theatre. His face was like a cave, his eyes shining out from its darkest depths. He reached his hand towards hers. She balked and took her hand away—this was not the time for games.

  “Can you pass me the remote please, Joy?” Max asked. “I promise I’ll give it right back.”

  Her face flushed with heat, and she was glad she had moved out of the spotlight. She didn’t want Max to see the pale shade of scarlet she had just turned. Max gave the inside of Joy’s wrist a light brush as he took the remote from her.

  “I’m sorry I had to interrupt, Joy,” Max apologized again. “These are busy men. Let’s cut to the meat of our presentation.”

  Max moved into the spotlight and held the remote up to the light, squinting at the buttons. “Ah, there’s the little blighter!” he said jovially as he made a show of pressing a button.

  The Project Phoenix logo disappeared, and the projector screen began to rise into the ceiling.

  “Should be just a moment, gentleman,” Max said crossing his arms in front of him.

  Joy sat down in the seat Max had previously occupied and looked over to the generals. They were still motionless, giving no indication of their feelings about this sudden change of tactic.

  With the screen gone, a long glass pane remained, dimly reflecting the back of Max’s frame standing in front of it. He pushed another button on the remote, and instantly a bright light turned on, revealing and illuminating a room behind the glass window. The stainless-steel surfaces and the polished tiled floor reflected the light intensely, and Joy had to blink a couple times as her eyes adjusted. The room was empty except for some benches surrounding it and a medical gurney sitting front and center. Sweat began to slide down Joy’s spine as she started to get an idea of what was about to happen.

  There was an eerie silence as everyone waited for the show to begin. The door finally opened, and a young security guard with “Reynolds” printed on his left chest entered the room. Panic was taking hold of Joy now. Not only was she free falling without a parachute, she had three five-star generals attached to her belt loops. She looked to Max. He wasn’t paying attention to Reynolds or the generals anymore. His attention was firmly fixed on her, and he was grinning broadly. The door closed behind Reynolds, and he moved towards the glass and stared at the generals. They shifted in their seats uncomfortably, not sure where to look.

  “Don’t worry, gentleman,” Max announced brightly. “Our subject can neither see us or hear us.”

  Reynolds was now standing a yard from the window, pushing at his cheeks.

  “It’s a two-way mirror,” Max explained. “The show is about to begin. Hold on to your hats.”

  The generals returned to their motionless state but Joy’s eyes widened. Show? What show? Joy thought. They hadn’t even gotten past the animal testing phase of this project, and in no way, shape or form were human trials even close to being conducted.

  “Alrighty!” Max said as he motioned towards the room. “I present to you, our bold and daring innovation that is about to take the world by storm!”

  Joy couldn’t breathe. Max had become the showman she had always dreaded he would be, and this circus was not going to be pleasant. The door opened and Reynolds stopped picking at his acne and swiveled around to see who was coming in. The lights suddenly turned off in the room, and the glass returned to dimly reflecting the theatre.

  “Don’t worry!” Max said in a hushed tone. “This is all part of the show.”

  “Hello?” Reynolds asked into the darkness. “There is someone in here. Could you turn the lights back on, please?”

  There was the faint sound of shuffling followed by the sound of the door closing.

  “Is someone there?” Reynolds said with increasing anxiousness.

  The window rattled from the impact of Reynolds finding it in the dark.

  “Hello? I know you can hear me. Please turn on the light!” Reynolds pleaded.

  The light flickered on, revealing Reynolds with his hands and face pressed to the glass, and the generals gasped in unison.

  “Oh, no,” Joy whispered to herself.

  The free fall continued, the ground rushing towards her. Joy had humored Max with this idea because she had known it would never even get to the testing stage. It was an insane idea, but this was the business. Joy knew the military would back up a truck full of money just to entertain the project. It wasn’t her place to put the brakes on. But this...

  Reynolds spun around so his back was against the glass. There was an old man standing fifteen feet away from him. The old man’s face was gaunt, his skin almost translucent, and he had long gray hair that went past his shoulders. He looked like a tall Willie Nelson, hunched over and looking at the ground.

  “Whoa!” Reynolds said, raising his hands. “You sure you should be in here, sir?”

  He wore a gray jumpsuit with the Greytech logo on the left side of his chest. It was clear he was supposed to be there. He looked up slowly, life returning to his dark eyes, and he opened his mouth, baring his teeth in a quiet roar.

  “Max!” Joy shouted, standing up.

  She could no longer stand it. Here was Max’s idea, his concept, alive...well...dead and

  right in front of her. Max smiled, he was enjoying her distress.

  “What is going on here?” General Andrews asked in horror. “Is this a joke, Max? It looks like a fucking zombie! I hope you didn’t get us all the way out here for some freakshow!”

  “Please, General Andrews,” Max said calmly. “The show’s about to start.”

  Zombie Willie Nelson moved briskly towards Reynolds, lunging for him, but Reynolds dodged him at the last moment.

  “Oh my God, what is wrong with you?” Reynolds asked as he ran for the door.

  Zombie Willie Nelson became agitated by Reynolds’ movement and swiftly turned and moved for him again.

  “Hey!” Reynolds yelled as he tried to open the door unsuccessfully. “I need some help in here!”

  “Michaelson!” General Adams demanded, standing up to show he was ready to leave. “What the hell is going on here?”

  “General, it’s fine, I assure you,” Max insisted as he waved for him to sit down. “Just wait.”

  Reynolds hadn’t realized he had cornered himself as he tried to force open the door. He turned back to see Zombie Willie Nelson lunging for him again, his jaw unhinged and his teeth gleaming in the bright light.

  “Stay back!” Reynolds screamed as he reached for his handgun in its holster. “I’m warning you!” He had to abandon the gun and put both hands out to stop another lunge from Zombie Willie Nelson. He pushed him back a few yards, which gave him time to pull the gun out of his holster and aim it at his attacker.

  “Old man, seriously!” Reynolds barked. “I don’t want to hurt you!”

  Zombie Willie Nelson tilted his head to the side as if processing what Reynolds was saying. It obviously didn’t register, and he rushed towards him again. Reynolds closed his eyes tight and squeezed the trigger, shooting him in the chest. He wasn’t a great shot, but from that distance it would have been harder to miss him. The force of the bullet knocked Zombie Willie Nelson back onto the gurney and then forward to the floor at Reynolds’ feet.

  “I warned you, buddy!” Reynolds said almost apologetically.

  “Show time!’ Max said with a wide smile on his face.

  “This is shameful, Michaelson, even for you!” General Adams scoffed.

  He may have been angry at the presentation, but he returned to his seat with the other generals. Zombie Willie Nelson sat up suddenly and got to his feet. He started coming at Reynolds again, this time with visible anger.

  “What the fuck?” Reynolds said as he looked from his gun to the ghastly wound in Zombie Willie Nelson’s chest.

  Joy watched as the generals leaned forward almost in unison. They were now sitting on the edge of their
seats, enthralled, and she could see Max was really enjoying himself too, smiling as the events unfolded. Reynolds began shooting again. This time a couple bullets missed the target and hit the two-way mirror, making the generals and Joy jump. Even though a couple bullets hit their mark, Zombie Willie Nelson didn’t fall back this time. He was hungry now, more than ever and pounced on Reynolds’ neck like a nineteen thirties vampire. Blood spat from Reynolds mouth as he and Zombie Willie Nelson fell to the ground. The gurney and the wall at the bottom of the two-way mirror obscured the view of the gory feast, and all they could see was Reynolds twitching legs and feet.

  Joy was in a state of shock. She could see it all now. Prison. No, not regular prison. It would be some black ops prison, hidden away in Afghanistan, and she would never see the light of day again. Reynolds stopped twitching, and Zombie Willie Nelson stood up and began walking aimlessly around the room.

  “Gentleman, as you can see, the first part of the mission has been completed,” Max said, motioning towards the room.

  “The first part?” General Adams gasped.

  “Yes, we’re not done yet,” Max said through a big grin. “We are now in the recruiting stage.”

  After a few minutes, Reynolds stood up, almost robotically, void of any humanity. His neck and chest were covered in bite marks as he looked deep into the mirror and moved his hands over the window, leaving streaks of blood.

  “Oh Lord, what have you done, Michaelson?” General Ryan asked, standing up from his chair.

  “As you can see gentlemen, prior to ten minutes ago we had a cowardly and incompetent soldier,” Max said as evenly, as if he was reciting the functions of a television. “Now, we have a single-minded unit with only one goal: destroy whatever living flesh is put in front of him.”

  “This is lunacy!” General Ryan said with a dismissing hand. “In all my years I’ve never seen anything this abhorrent, and I’ve had enough! As far as I’m concerned, this project is dead. It has no value in the real world.”

  “This is the greatest weapon in the history of mankind,” Max went on, moving towards them. “You have to consider this!”

  “No, stop right there!” General Ryan blustered. “Why the hell would we want to unleash this mayhem on anyone, even our worst enemies?”

  Ryan didn’t even wait for a rebuttal. He just walked towards the exit and didn’t look back.

  General Adams joined him, and they both left the room. Max looked to Joy, but she was already running after them. General Gordon waited for the others to leave before he approached Max.

  “Max, my old friend, what I have seen here today takes the fucking cake. What the fuck were you thinking, man? Those two old fucks don’t care about this shit,” General Gordon said as he put a consolatory hand on Max’s shoulder. “You know I fucking love it, but what on Earth made you think that those two assholes would sign on the dotted line?”

  “We needed the signatures. I had explored every other avenue,” Max said softly. “We couldn’t afford to wait for their retirements or—”

  “Max, don’t say it,” General Gordon cut in. “Look, I like where you are going with it, but it’s not pretty. You need to go back to the drawing board with this. Maybe by the time we have moved forward from old school fucks like them, we can look into it again.”

  “No, now is the time!” Max insisted. “I’m going ahead, with or without you, Jerry.”

  General Gordon looked at Reynolds who was still staring into the mirror, and then he turned back to Max and, without uttering a word, left the room.

  Watching from the door of the hanger, tears finally filled Joy’s eyes as the three black SUVs disappeared from her view. She had once again found herself in a position where she wasn’t in charge. She was at the mercy of a dumb, fucking, man.

  “You’ll pay for this, Max,” Joy promised.

  CHAPTER 35: PHONEY FRANCHISE

  Marco didn’t offer any more on the subject but it was clear to Jake that this was the last time he was setting foot in the strip club if he didn’t sort out his past indiscretions. He put on a brave face as his mind ran over all the things he was going to have to do to get his life back to zero. It wasn’t going to be easy, especially when you were dealing with people who went bump in the night. After the awkward conversation was out of the way, Marco’s attitude completely changed. His smile and warmth returned, like he was an android, able to erase any bad taste from his memory and continue on as normal. Jake appreciated this. He hated the haze that was hanging over him; it was like he was on death row and the warden had come to offer him last rites and a final meal. Marco was playing the part of the warden, but he wasn’t leading him down The Green Mile just yet. He slid a bag of blow towards him as the guards, played dutifully by two sexy strippers, accosted him on both sides.

  One of the strippers took over the pouring duties, while the other one started chopping and grinding the blow into perfect lines, making a ladder to heaven, where Jake could escape, even if he knew it was just a brief respite from the storm that was approaching. The strippers were pretty hot. They weren’t drop dead gorgeous, but each of them had something that turned Jake on, be it the style of lingerie or massive fucking tits. Jake fed off their energy. He was glad they were being aggressive and taking charge, otherwise he probably would have slinked home after a couple drinks to well and truly drown his sorrows. It didn’t slip past Jake that the hostess from earlier hadn’t come to the backroom to hang. This was going to be all business, and, in a way, he preferred that. He was not in the mood for small talk right now.

  The sad haze that had engulfed Jake slowly dissipated, and the strippers grew more and more friendly with each touch. They kept the rounds of shots and blow rolling. They were like his personal trainers, pushing him though the circuit, making sure he didn’t dilly-dally at each station. Shots followed by lines of blow, always moving on to the next thing before Jake could settle back into reality. They didn’t let the circuit become boring, either. With each round they upped the intensity: the lines of blow got bigger, the time between shots got shorter, the lap dances got more sexual, and then they started combining stations. Asses and tits started getting used as surfaces to snort blow off, and, before Jake knew it, Marco had disappeared, and the coke-hungry strippers were queuing up to snort lines off his bulging hard-on. As one of the strippers poured another line on her juicy tit for Jake to imbibe, the other one made sure that there were no crumbs left on his cock as she took Jake deep into her mouth.

  The blowjob felt great, and the stripper was putting in maximum porn star effort, but he knew it was only ceremonial. He could count on one hand the amount times he had actually dropped a load from head. It wasn’t as if he didn’t enjoy them, it was just more fun to fuck. Who had time to stand around waiting to cum, when you could just be fucking. Jake stabbed her throat a couple times to create a nice long thread of spit from the head of his cock to the back of her throat, and she sucked back the spit to reveal a big smile. The stripper rose to his eye level, and he motioned for her to bend over, but she waved a finger at him. These girls weren’t going to fuck him, not tonight anyway. Jake smiled, he knew that was probably going to be the case, but it worth a shot. It always was.

  Even though the shots and the blow were taking him to the next level in wastedness, Jake still felt well and truly in control, and it started to dawn on him that if this was going to be his last night on Earth he was going to enjoy it to the utmost. He was having fun, don’t get it twisted, but it was all superficial. He needed to leave this den of iniquity and go find someone he could enjoy fucking, someone who might actually enjoy being fucked by him.

  Jake tucked his rock-hard cock back into his jeans and moved on to the next station in the circuit— he hadn’t finished training just yet. He was just about to down a fresh shot of tequila when he felt the phone in his pocket start to vibrate. After he downed the shot, he pulled his phone out. The screen was blurry. Jake was definitely drunker than he had thought.

  “
Max!” Jake yelled in to the phone. “What the fuck do you want!?”

  “I see you’re already having a good night, young Jacob,” Max said in a friendly tone.

  “Yup, you know it!” Jake said as he winked at the two strippers who had made a circuit of their own by caressing and cuddling each other in a nearby booth. “What are you doing? Wanna come join me?”

  “I think our tastes are a little different, my friend,” Max said with a chuckle. “I just wanted to check up on you and make sure you steer clear of downtown tonight. I really don’t want you to get involved in that job I assigned your friend.”

  “Why?” Jake asked, turning away from the delicious sight in front of him. “Is something wrong?”

  “No, no. Not at all, Jake!” Max reassured him. “By the looks of it, everything is going exactly to plan. I’m just making sure you’re not getting involved. I know how much of a big softy you are, pal. I’d hate for you to run afoul of me again, especially after last time.”

  Jake breathed out slowly. He couldn’t think for the life of him why the fucking universe was trying to impede his fun, to sober him up, to remind him he wasn’t the all great and powerful Oz he thought he was.

  “Max, tell me the truth,” he said stiffly. “Should I be worried about Daryl?” He was definitely sobering up. He could sense Max was up to something. He was using his name too much, and he was being way too friendly.

  “Jake, I wouldn’t lie to you,” Max said brightly. “If your friend has followed his instructions to the letter, he will be as safe as houses. I just don’t want you anywhere near downtown. I have a lot tied up in this. I can’t have any more loose threads.”

  “Right,” Jake said as he looked back to the strippers. They had stopped canoodling but restarted as soon as Jake’s gaze returned to them. “Stay out of downtown, gotcha.”

  “Exactly, that’s all I wanted to hear,” Max said cheerfully. “Now you have a good night, Jake.”