Dead Souls Volume One (Parts 1 to 13)

by Amy Cross

  ***

  “You know I love you, right?” she said a few hours later, running a finger across Fernando's bare chest. “That's the reason I sometimes get a bit angry and jealous. It's because I love you sooooo goddamn much. You're my hunky sailor.”

  She waited for a reply, but Fernando was staring up at the ceiling, apparently lost in thought.

  It was a little after lunch, and Didi's trip into town had so far consisted of little more than dropping by Fernando's boat and making a quick booty call. As usual, they'd ended up having sex on the foldout bed in the corner of the engine room, which Didi found simultaneously horrible and hot: horrible because it was rather dirty, but hot because it was such a huge contrast to the glamor and luxury of Edgar's mansion. She supposed that Fernando was most definitely beneath her, but at the same time he definitely helped to spice up those days when boredom threatened to become a problem.

  In fact, she felt that her clandestine affair with Fernando was just about the only thing keeping her sane.

  Running her hand across his chest, she couldn't help but marvel at his impressive physique. He was just as impressive as Edgar, albeit in a more toned manner, and whereas Edgar's muscles hinted at hard work in the gym, Fernando's were the result of back-breaking work in the ferry's engine room. The difference was subtle, but also one that Didi appreciated. She didn't have a clue which type of body she preferred, so she was just glad that she didn't have to choose. Not yet, anyway.

  “So what's the deal?” she asked eventually, reaching up and grabbing Fernando's chin before tilting his head toward her. “Pay a girl some attention, yeah? You're not thinking about someone else, are you?”

  “No,” he replied unconvincingly. “I just...”

  His voice trailed off.

  “You just what?”

  “I just...” He paused for a moment. “I think maybe we shouldn't do this for a while.”

  She raised a skeptical eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

  “I want to take a break,” he continued. “It's been fun, but I can't do this right now. There's...”

  Didi waited for him to continue.

  “There's what?” she asked eventually. “You haven't found someone else, have you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “Good,” she replied, forcing a smile, “because I need our little sessions so I can blow off some steam. Do you have any idea what it's like being cooped up there in Edgar's goddamn mansion? The whole place is so airless, and I don't know what's wrong but he's been in a foul mood lately. Do you know what he's doing today? He's actually coming into town, can you believe that? Edgar Le Compte looked out the window this morning and decided he wanted to come down and mix with the little people! Isn't that hilarious?”

  “Seriously?” Fernando asked. “Why would he do that?”

  “Dunno. Some kind of meet and greet, I think. It's like he wants to get to know people and become more popular around the island, or some other kind of crap. I mean, what the hell is wrong with him?”

  “He's got balls,” Fernando replied, “I'll give him that.”

  “All men have got balls,” Didi laughed, reaching under the cover and grabbing Fernando's, before giving them just enough of a twist to get his full attention. “That's what I love about you all,” she continued. “If a woman needs to know how to really get a man on her side, she can just go straight to the most important part. It's really not as complicated as it seems.”

  “Do you mind letting go?” he asked uncomfortably.

  She gave him a little extra twist, to punish him for the request.

  “Do you know Kate Langley?” she asked, and she could see immediately from the look in his eyes that her suspicions were correct. “She mentioned you at dinner the other night, just in passing. Now, I know you're a smart guy, Fernando, so there's no way you'd ever start thinking that she's worth taking a shot at. I mean, I guess some people like the bookish, frumpy kinda girl, but you're just a dumb grease monkey with a hot body. Play to your strengths. We shallow, gorgeous people have to stick together.”

  “You don't know what you're talking about.”

  “You're not gonna stop seeing me,” she replied, yanking his balls a little harder as her frustration at Kate's presence began to boil over. “Do you know how I know that?”

  “How?” he asked.

  “Simple. It's 'cause I always get what I want.” She leaned closer and kissed his bare shoulder, letting her soft wet lips linger for a moment against his tanned flesh. “Every. God. Damn. Time. And sooner or later, even Edgar Le Compte is gonna learn that.”

  IV

  “I called you because I knew you'd hear about it soon anyway,” Doctor Burns said as he led Ephram into the surgery's back room. “I've tried everything but there's nothing I can do to help her...”

  As soon as he spotted Maximo and Catherine Marco sitting by the bed in the corner of the surgery, Ephram's heart missed a beat and he realized what must have happened. Hurrying across the room, he made his way around the bed until he saw his goddaughter's pale face, with her eyes closed as sweat poured down her brow. Her parents were holding her hand, with tears running down their cheeks as they sat in silent prayer, desperately willing their daughter to get better. A drip line was running into the girl's arm, but she already looked so fragile and thin. It was as if Death had already started his work.

  “Alice,” Ephram whispered.

  “It came on so fast,” Doctor Burns explained as he made his way over to the bed. “She was fine first thing this morning, but a couple of hours later I got the call to say that she'd developed a fever. It's too early to say for certain what's wrong, but I suspect a blood-borne virus. She must have been incredibly unlucky and happened to get bitten by a rat that was a carrier.”

  “She came down to breakfast with a terrible headache,” Catherine explained, her voice trembling with tears. “She didn't want to make a fuss, as usual, but we could see that something was wrong. Then she began to vomit, and her pupils were different sizes. We got her onto the sofa and called for help at once, but by that point she'd begun to shiver and her skin felt hot and cold at the same time. When I asked her what was wrong, she spoke in words that barely made any sense, as if her mind was damaged, as if...” She paused, with fresh tears rolling down her cheeks. “It was as if she wasn't even herself anymore.”

  Ephram reached down to touch Alice's arm, only to find that her skin was hot and clammy.

  “You must do something,” Maximo said, his voice filled with grief as he put an arm around his sobbing wife and looked up at the doctor. “The fever is getting worse! You are a doctor, aren't you? For the love of God, do something!”

  “I'm waiting for a call from the mainland,” Doctor Burns replied, with obvious concern in his eyes. “Given the situation, it's not going to be possible to get her to a hospital in time, so I have to do what I can here while we wait for a medical boat to reach us. It's going to be at least four hours and -”

  “She'll be dead in four hours!” Maximo shouted, before kissing the top of his wife's head as if to try to comfort her. “She'll be dead,” he whispered again, “and all you can do is tell us to wait for a boat?”

  His wife was muttering to herself, saying the same prayer over and over again as she squeezed Alice's hand tighter and tighter.

  “The drip will help to counter dehydration,” Doctor Burns continued, “and I've already given her two different antibiotic doses that should help her to fight the infection. The problem is, out here on Thaxos we've never needed to keep certain types of medicine. Even on the mainland it would be difficult to treat this, but here...” He paused for a moment. “I'm doing my best. We must remain hopeful and trust that God has mercy.”

  “Perhaps,” Maximo snapped, “God will send us a better doctor instead!”

  As they continued to talk, Ephram made his way to the other end of the bed and looked down at the girl's face. Apart from the fact that she was so pale and her skin glistened with sweat, she looked
for all the world as if she was merely sleeping, and he briefly thought back to the days when he used to look down into her crib. After a moment, however, he realized that her breathing was hoarse and shallow, and it became abundantly clear that Death was busy drawing her deeper into his shadow.

  “You must listen to me,” Ephram said, leaning closer to the bed. “Do not allow this to happen! You must fight it, Alice! You're young and strong, not like the rest of us. God would never allow something like this to happen to one so innocent and kind!” He pressed a hand against the side of her face. “Take some of my strength. I'm old, I don't need it. Take my strength, all of it if you can, and fight!”

  “God has turned his back on Thaxos,” Marco replied. “This is his way of warning us. He knows that we have allowed Satan into our midst, and now our beautiful daughter is paying the price.”

  “I can assure you,” Doctor Burns continued after a moment, “that Alice is not in any pain or discomfort. I've given her something to knock her out, so at the moment she's just dreaming. Keeping her sedated is not a problem.”

  “But you can't save her, can you?” Maximo replied.

  “I'm doing everything I can.”

  “This is not right,” Ephram whispered, his heart breaking to see his goddaughter in such a terrible state. He couldn't help thinking back to the moment, just twelve hours earlier, when the girl had been smiling at him in his store, and yet now she was on the verge of death and he felt as if there was nothing he could do to help her. He couldn't say the words out loud, of course, but in his heart of hearts he could see that the girl was dying. It was only a matter of time before Death's work would be complete.

  “How long does she have?” Catherine Marco asked.

  “It's hard to say,” Doctor Burns replied. “Maybe -”

  “How long?” she asked again, this time with anger in her voice.

  “She could still pull through,” came the reply. “However, in the worst case scenario, it could be over very quickly. Her body is under attack from the inside.”

  Unable to stand the sight of the girl's suffering any longer, Ephram turned and made his way out of the surgery. As soon as he was outside, he sat on a nearby wall and put his head in his hands, as tears finally flowed from his eyes. It was the helplessness, more than anything, that was driving his fury, as well as the knowledge that no matter what he did, nothing would ever make Edgar Le Compte understand the misery that he had brought to the island. For months now, Ephram had been warning everyone that the rats would bring disease, and now his worst fears had come to pass. It was an added cruelty that the first victim was to be the girl he had long thought of almost as his own child.

  “You mustn't blame yourself,” Doctor Burns said as he wandered out to join Ephram. Lighting another cigarette, he paused for a moment. “If anyone is to blame, perhaps it should be the doctor who didn't order the right anti-virals a few months ago when the rats first appeared. I tried my best to anticipate the problems that would occur, but this particular virus just seemed to come out of nowhere. If God has chosen to take the poor girl -”

  “This is not God's work,” Ephram spat back at him. “God did not bring vermin to Thaxos, and God did not allow that poor girl to get bitten.”

  “This is not the time to lose your faith,” Doctor Burns replied. “If God sees that we still believe in him, he might give us this glimmer of hope.”

  Ephram shook his head, unable to accept the other man's words.

  “And you think that anger will help?” Doctor Burns continued.

  “I think that someone has to recognize that in just three short months, Baron Edgar Le Compte has caused more damage to the people of this island than anyone could possibly have imagined.” Ephram paused for a moment, feeling as if he had to somehow find a way to make a stand. “Face it, that girl is going to die, and then what will we do? Wait for it to happen again and again? The children are our future, and we have to protect them.”

  “There's still a chance that she might pull through.”

  “Sure there is,” Ephram replied, getting to his feet and setting off on the walk back to his store, before stopping and turning back to the doctor for a moment. He was shaking with rage, and he felt that he had to find some way to express his anger. “We both know that Death himself is in that room, working on Alice's body and folding her into his world. You have my number. Let me know when the poor girl has breathed her last.”

  “She might recover.”

  “Let me know,” Ephram said firmly, “when she is dead!”

  Doctor Burns stared at him for a moment, and then he did the only honest thing. He nodded.

  V

  “Eddie!” she called out. “Eddie, babe! Are you here?”

  Silence.

  Standing in the hallway, Didi listened to the silence all around her. Having lived at the mansion on Thaxos for three months now, she was well used to this particular type of silence, but she still felt a little creeped out every time it happened. It was almost as if, whenever Edgar wasn't with her, the entire house seemed to die a little, almost as if he was the only one who kept the place alive. Now, as she walked across the hallway and stopped by the door that led into the main study, she couldn't shake the sensation that this was a house that had long ago been abandoned, even though she knew this was not the case. The whole building seemed to be holding its breath.

  “Eddie?”

  Again, she waited. She had to be sure that he was still out.

  “Jacob?”

  Nothing.

  She smiled. It was pretty typical of Edgar's manservant to not bother coming when she called. The doddering old man never showed up unless his master was around, almost as if he only existed when Edgar specifically needed him, but on this occasion Didi didn't mind at all. In fact, she was glad to be alone.

  “Kate?” she called out.

  Again, silence.

  Figuring that she was definitely alone, she hurried back across the hallway and then down the steps that led into another, shorter corridor. Edgar had told her time and again not to bother exploring the lower eastern wing of the mansion, but she'd been biding her time and now she was going to find out what the hell he was hiding. All she knew was that at the far end of the corridor, there was a small door that led down into the basement. She'd heard Edgar mention the basement a few times, and he'd indicated that there were some things down there left over from his grandfather's era, but he'd conspicuously never offered to show her, and the door had remained locked. At first she'd been only mildly curious, but now she was starting to wonder if the basement might help her understand Edgar's plans a little better.

  Fortunately, this time she'd manage to get hold of the key.

  Once she'd opened the door, she paused one more time and looked back along the corridor, just to be absolutely certain that there was no sign of anyone nearby. Fortunately, the house still seemed to be holding its breath. After a moment, she slipped through the door and found herself at the top of a dark, barely-lit staircase that seemed to wind down deep into the bowels of the house. It was by far the most unwelcoming sight imaginable for someone who hated spiders and felt nervous in the dark, but as she pushed the door gently shut, she realized that this was her only opportunity to find out for certain what was down there. She wasn't expecting to find anything directly linked to James Nixon's disappearance, but she still figured that she could use some extra dirt on Edgar. After all, that was one of the things she was being paid for.

  Making her way down the steps, she couldn't help but notice how each one creaked under the weight of her footfall. In fact, with every step she almost felt as if she was going a little further back in time, and she was grateful for the row of small electric lights that ran along the ceiling and provided at least enough light for her to be able to see where she was going.

  The steps curved around to the right, but just when she was beginning to wonder how much further down they could go, she saw that they came to an end and opened out into
a small, dank-smelling stone room. Having slipped her heels off before starting the exploration, she now found that her bare feet were uncomfortably cold and wet on the stone floor, but she figured that was no reason to turn back.

  She stood for a moment at the bottom of the stairs, staring at the empty room in front of her. There was an open doorway at the far end, and she was starting to realize that the basement must be at least the same size as the rest of the house and that, far from being one large space, it seemed to be divided up into a multitude of smaller sections. Taking a step forward, she looked up nervously at the single electric light in the middle of the room, and it seemed to buzz a little louder as she passed directly beneath its casing. Everything about this room screamed at her to turn around and get the hell out, but she made her way to the doorway and looked through into the next, pitch black room. Blinking a couple of times, she waited for her eyes to get used to the darkness, but then she noticed a faint white wire running down the wall just a few feet away. Reaching out, her fingers quickly found a light-switch, and once she'd flicked the button she waited as another electric light flickered into life.

  She stared ahead, barely able to believe what she was seeing.

  This second room was larger than the first, and arranged on either side were a series of bizarre metal contraptions the likes of which Didi had never seen before in her life. She took a step forward, but something about the room urged her to hold back. For a moment, she felt that maybe the equipment was part of some kind of old-fashioned home gym, and she clung to that hope until she edged closer to the nearest machine and realized that it was nothing of the sort. Constructed using a combination of black metal and wood, it looked for all the world like some kind of medieval torture device, and she couldn't help noticing the thick manacles that sat perched on a pair of armrests, or the chains that hung down and pooled on the floor. Looking up at the top of the device, she saw what appeared to be a makeshift metal crown with thick spikes jutting down toward the inside, and above that there was some kind of long, vertical spike connected to a series of pulleys and levers.

  All told, it looked like something from a previous age.

  Making her way to the next device, she looked down at what appeared to be a tin bath, albeit one with manacles on either side and a set of spikes jutting up from the bottom. A thick metal chain was attached to one end of the tub, along with some kind of iron mask and a thick metal collar. Reaching down, Didi touched the side of the bath, her fingertips brushing against the cold metal as she tried to imagine what kind of torture an individual would endure after being strapped into such a device. She felt as if her blood was running cold, and as she turned to look across the room at all the other torture devices she -

  Suddenly she heard a noise nearby.

  Turning, she looked back at the doorway, but there was no sign of anyone. She stayed completely still, convinced that there was someone close, but after a few seconds she began to replay the sound in her mind and she realized that it might just have been the house settling. Forcing herself to be brave, she made her way back across the room and leaned through the doorway, only to find that there was no sign of anyone. The noise had been just a brief clicking sound, like something tapping against a stone wall, but when she looked over at the steps she realized that she would definitely have heard the wood creaking if anyone had come down to join her in the basement.

  Taking a deep breath, she turned and made her way back over to the torture devices, and then she took out her mobile phone and started to take a few photos. She knew the devices were probably just left over from Edgar's grandfather, but still, she wanted to catalog as much of the house as possible, just in case it turned out to be useful. After all, her employers were keen to get their hands on as much information about Edgar as possible.

  “Find anything interesting?”

  “Jesus!” she shouted, spinning around with such force that she dropped the phone, which flew several feet through the air, then crashed to the floor and slid over to the doorway, where it came to rest next to Edgar's feet.

  “I'm surprised to find you down here,” he said, staring at her calmly. “I was under the impression that the door was locked.”

  “It was,” Didi stammered, swallowing hard as she tried to work out how the hell he'd managed to sneak up on her. “I mean, yeah...” She paused. “Yeah, I found the key, and...”

  Her voice tailed off.

  “I thought...” she continued. “I mean, I didn't think you'd... It seemed...”

  Edgar continued to stare at her for a moment, before reaching down and picking up her phone.

  “The screen appears to be cracked,” he said after a moment, “but other than that, there doesn't seem to be any real damage. I think you'll be able to make calls.” He pressed a few buttons, bringing up some of the pictures that Didi had managed to snap. “Fascinating,” he muttered. “Seeing them like this, they look so much older, like something in a museum. One would almost not believe that they're all still in perfect working order.”

  Didi waited, not daring to say anything. Her heart was racing and she still wasn't quite sure how to explain the fact that she'd snuck down to the basement in the first place. She was also frustrated by the fact that she hadn't heard him sneaking up on her. It seemed impossible that he could have made his way down the stairs without the steps creaking, but the only other explanation was that he had already been in the basement. Neither possibility was particularly comforting.

  “Have you seen Ms. Langley?” Edgar asked eventually. “She's not in the archive room, and I haven't laid eyes upon her since last night.”

  “I guess she must be around somewhere,” Didi replied. “I'm sure your newest little pet wouldn't stray too far,” she added bitterly, under her breath.

  “It's not like her to stop working. I must admit, I'm starting to worry a little. Then again, I suppose she must be okay, wherever she is.” As he spoke, the light flickered above them. “I really must do something about that,” he added. “I've asked my men to fix the electrical system, but I fear that the task seems to be beyond their capabilities. Perhaps I should just roll up my sleeves and do the job myself. After all, I've never been afraid to get my hands dirty.”

  Didi stared at him, still trying to work out what to say.

  “I went to Ms. Langley's room just now,” Edgar continued, “and I might be wrong, but I think that perhaps she didn't sleep up here at the house last night, which can only mean that she must have stayed in the town. I suppose I have no particular right to assume that she would sleep in the bed I have provided, and I'm her employer, not her guardian. Nevertheless, we had made plans to discuss her work some more.” He walked over to the nearest torture device, running a hand across its cold metal frame. “I must speak to her when she gets back. I'm more than happy for her to enjoy Thaxos on her own time, but I really must impress upon her the urgency of her work.”

  Didi smiled uneasily, glancing over at the doorway.

  “So you went into town?” she asked, trying to get a normal conversation going.

  Edgar nodded.

  “And how did it go?”

  “Not particularly well. I tried my best to be friendly and humble, but I'm afraid it was all thrown back in my face in a very rude and ungrateful manner. I should have known better, perhaps, but I had to at least try.”

  “Told you it was a bad idea.”

  “Yes,” he replied with a faint, sad smile. “Yes, you were right about that. It seems that the locals are still hung up on the actions of my grandfather all those years ago. There was some mention of rats and other matters, but essentially I feel that my grandfather is still the main problem. People around here seem to think of him as some kind of beast.” He ran his hand onto one of the machine's large metal spikes. “He was known locally as the Impaler.”

  “Yeah,” Didi replied cautiously. “I heard.”

  “These are actually some of his old devices,” he continued, making his way to the next machi
ne, which looks like a kind of sarcophagus complete with a hinged door and spikes on the inside. “I've been trying to work out what I should do with them, although I don't suppose they're causing any bother by just being here. Does it shock you to see them?”

  “A bit.”

  He smiled again. “As I said, this isn't a museum. These were all working machines back in my grandfather's day. Every single one of these devices was at some point used on some poor soul who was unfortunate enough to end up down here in the basement. The victims, and there were many of them, were almost exclusively women. He had, as you might gather, certain issues, as well as a great deal of anger. I'm sorry to say that his hatred was mostly directed toward women, although there also happened to be a few men who earned his ire. In fact, I believe he even fought a man once and sustained a nasty injury to his arm before emerging victorious.”

  Didi watched as he made his way across the room.

  “How did he get away with it all?” she asked eventually.

  “With torturing and murdering people?” He stopped by a set of chains that hung down from the ceiling, and for a moment he ran his hands over the metal, almost as if he found the touch to be pleasing. “My grandfather was able, for a time, to do any damn thing that he pleased. He saw Thaxos as his personal domain, and he didn't even consider the possibility that anyone would or could stop him. In some ways, it's hard not to admire such forthright stubbornness. The man most certainly had a very powerful ego, and to be fair, he turned out to be absolutely correct. He continued with his efforts for many years, even though there was a police officer stationed down in the town. Even an officer of the law understood that it would be unwise to cross my grandfather.”

  “And then he disappeared?”

  “So the story goes,” Edgar replied, turning to her.

  “And no-one ever found out where he went?”

  “I believe that a few people searched for him, but they never found a trace. It was never even established whether or not he'd left the island.”

  “So there might be, like, a body somewhere?”

  “I suppose there might.”

  “Huh,” she replied, forcing a smile. “He must've been one crazy dude. I mean, look at this stuff. What kind of person actually has a real-life torture dungeon? He must have been, like... out of his mind.”

  “Yes,” Edgar said softly, with a faint smile. “I suppose he must have been.”

  “Sorry,” she continued. “I know he was your granddad and all, and I know I shouldn't be mean, but anyone who has stuff like this in their basement, and actually uses it on people...” A cold shiver passed through her body as she imagined the screams that must once have filled the room. “What did he do with the bodies?” she asked after a moment. “No, wait. I don't think I want to know.”

  “He was a very inventive man,” Edgar replied, walking over to a large metal chair with various spikes and screws attached to it. “He liked to keep his victims alive for as long as possible while he was torturing them. The record, I believe, was something in the order of eighteen days. Imagine that. Eighteen days with someone strapped into various machines, with my grandfather constantly pushing them to the brink of death but always making sure not to kill them. I'm sure he was disappointed when it all ended on the eighteenth day, but I suppose the human heart can only stand so much suffering. He himself was almost driven mad by the whole process.”

  He smiled again.

  “Almost,” he muttered, “but not quite.”

  “Was that in your archive?” Didi asked.

  Edgar seemed lost in thought for a moment, before turning to her.

  “That information about the guy who was tortured for eighteen days,” she continued nervously. “Did... Did you read about that in the archive?”

  “Oh.” He paused. “Yes. Of course. But...” Another pause, and then a faint smile. “It wasn't a 'guy', as you phrase it. It was a woman.”

  Again, a shiver passed through Didi's body.

  “My grandfather kept a comprehensive and very detailed diary,” he continued. “He noted down facts and thoughts about all his victims. He even sketched the early ones, before he was able to get hold of a camera. I believe that somewhere in the archive, there might even be some old photographs that show the full extent of the horrors he committed. I suppose I should probably warn Ms. Langley in case she stumbles across them some time. I imagine that they might be rather upsetting.”

  “Sounds like she's gonna have a lot of fun going through those old papers,” Didi muttered.

  “Allow me to show you something,” Edgar continued, suddenly grabbing a metal bar and swinging it away from the chair. The hinge creaked and the metal let out a loud clanging sound as it hit its natural rest point, and Edgar gestured toward the contraption's leather seat. “Please.”

  “What`” Didi asked nervously.

  “Take a seat.”

  “You're kidding, right?” She stared at him incredulously. “Eddie? Sweetheart? You want me to sit in that thing?”

  “I just want to show you something,” he continued. “What's wrong? Are you worried I might strap you down and torture you for eighteen days?”

  She swallowed hard.

  He smiled.

  “Please,” he added. “You're the first person who has been down here with me in the whole three months since we arrived. I must admit, in spare moments I've come down alone and spent time examining the equipment, trying to understand the compulsions that drove my grandfather. I was thinking that perhaps I should show you the place, but I was worried about what you'd think. I suppose I didn't want to scare you. Now that you've somehow managed to find your way down of your own accord, however, I'd like to share some of the things that I've learned.”

  Didi stared at him.

  “Please,” he continued with a faint smile. “Just take a seat for a moment. This place has almost become a kind of hobby. Allow me to share it with you.”

  “Eddie,” she replied, “why don't we save this for another day, huh? Why don't we go upstairs and pop back into bed?”

  “After I've shown you something down here.”

  “I don't really wanna, Eddie.”

  “Humor me.”

  She took a deep breath, but it was clear that he was determined to get her into the chair. Although she knew that she could refuse and go back up to the main part of the house, she wanted to make sure that she stayed on his good side, and besides, she knew that despite his many faults, he wasn't anything like his grandfather. She was also starting to feel that perhaps she was getting deeper into his psyche, which might be another way to finally get him to open up about James Nixon and the past.

  He's not a monster, she told herself.

  “Sure, Eddie,” she said with a smile, making her way over to the machine. “For you, anything. Just promise not to scare me, okay? Don't play any stupid jokes.”

  “I promise,” he replied.

  Taking a seat in the heart of the machine, Didi looked up at the metal crown that was raised above her head, and at the large spike even further above.

  “Here,” Edgar said, reaching down and taking her hands, placing them on the armrests. “Of course, my grandfather would strip his victims naked before beginning the process, but I think perhaps that would be a step too far for us right now.”

  “Wouldn't that be part of the fun?” she asked. “Don't you find it kinda kinky?”

  “That's not quite how it works.”

  Didi smiled uneasily.

  “He would drug them,” he continued, “and when they woke up, they'd be already secured in whichever of the devices my grandfather had decided to use first. As I have said before, he was endlessly inventive when it came to such things, and his sadism knew no bounds.” He paused for a moment. “It's said that no-one who woke up in one of these devices ever escaped. If you were unlucky enough to end up down here, you had nothing to look forward to other than a slow and painful death. His reputation preceded him, so I imagine that all his
victims understood their fate from the moment they first opened their eyes and saw where they were.”

  “Huh,” Didi said, forcing a smile.

  She tried to get up, but Edgar gently pushed her back down into her seat, and before she could stop him he closed one of the iron manacles around her left wrist.

  “Eddie!”

  “Humor me,” he replied calmly. “I'm just trying to help you understand what it must have been like to wake up down here.”

  “Yeah,” she muttered, trying in vain to get her wrist free, “I get it, it must've sucked big time, but you don't need to screw me down to show me. Can you cut me loose, Eddie? Please? I told you not to mess around!”

  “In a moment,” he replied, reaching down and pulling a lever. A metal brace immediately swung shut, trapping Didi's legs in place. “I just want to show you a couple more things.”

  “Eddie, stop it!” she shouted. “You promised not to pull stunts like this! You're being an ass!”

  “Don't be scared,” he replied. “You can trust me, Didi. You know that, don't you? You can trust me, and I can trust you, isn't that right?”

  “Yeah, Eddie,” she continued, with fear in her voice. “Why do you even have to ask?”

  “I don't,” he replied. “It was just a turn of phrase.”

  Walking around the back of the machine, he examined the various wheels and levers. Didi waited, already regretting the fact that she had decided to indulge him.

  “It's so hard to remember which of these is which,” he said after a moment. “There aren't exactly any user manuals.” He pulled another level, and the top of the machine juddered briefly.

  “Eddie!” Didi shouted.

  “Calm down,” he replied, turning a small wheel that caused the metal crown to grind down a few inches closer to the top of her head, with its metal spikes jutting inward.

  “Eddie...”

  “Of course,” he muttered to himself. “Now I remember. This one's the... And that one...”

  “Eddie, I don't like this!”

  “You have absolutely nothing to worry about,” he replied. “I just want you to imagine what it must have been like to have been down here in the old days, when my grandfather was at his worst. You need to understand the history of my family. Do you know, it's even said that at one time he had several victims down here simultaneously, and that he forced them to watch one another being tortured? It wasn't enough for him to merely make them endure such horrific things, he had to ensure that they were fully aware of what was happening. It's as if his insanity and cruelty just continued to get worse and worse the whole time, like a mad dog.”

  “He sounds like a swell guy,” Didi replied, her whole body tense. “Now can you please -”

  “Imagine,” Edgar continued, pointing at the tin bath on the opposite side of the room, “having to watch a woman in that thing. He used to pour bucket after bucket of boiling water over them until their skin began to fall off. Imagine having to watch that happen, having to listen to the screams, and knowing that you'd be next. I'm quite certain that some of his victims had been driven completely insane by the time they died. There are even stories that their screams could sometimes be heard all the way down in the town. Many people fled Thaxos altogether, but some stayed because they believed that the agony would soon end, or that they would somehow escape the worst of my grandfather's rage.”

  “Eddie, I don't like this!”

  “And he made notes, about how far he could push each victim until their minds gave up entirely. He wanted them to remain aware of what was happening to them.”

  “Eddie!”

  “Anyway,” he continued, looking up at the metal crown that was now only five or six inches above her head, “the device you're currently sitting inside was known as a Holy Throne, which as I'm sure you can imagine was a somewhat ironic name. The idea was that the gears would force the crown down with such power that the spikes would dig into the sides of the victim's head and eventually penetrate the skull, cracking it at strategic points that caused huge amounts of pain without immediately killing the poor unfortunate soul. The idea was to weaken the skull but not break it, for reasons that I shall explain shortly.” He reached out and brushed his fingers against the side of her head. “I imagine the cranial fluid began to leak out, but death would certainly not have been instant.”

  “Eddie,” she replied, “I'm begging you, just let me out of this thing. I don't like it!”

  “Then there were these screws,” he continued, tapping a set of metal rods that protruded from the manacle around her wrist. He turned another gear, and the rods began to rotate and slowly move through the manacles, stopping just before they reached Didi's flesh. “The idea here was that these would be driven straight through the victim's hands, breaking the bones. Highly painful, I imagine. There are similar devices for the feet as well, although I believe that those were added later by my grandfather. He bought the machines from abroad, mostly from the old Italian families that had finally become respectable, but he made his own alterations. In fact, I believe that one of the other machines down here uses flat iron plates to literally crush the bones of living victims and then, through the skin, grind them into powder. Can you even begin to imagine such agony?”

  “Great, but -”

  “And so,” Edgar continued, not letting her finish, “this whole device was designed to keep the victim alive for days on end, hovering on the verge of death and madness but constantly being pulled back to this world due to sheer pain. And then the final act, when my grandfather tired of them or when he sensed that death was inevitable, was the spike at the top. But this was no ordinary spike, because it had been hollowed out as part of his own invention. He was particularly proud of this part.” He reached around and grabbed a small gear; when he turned it, the spike began to squeak and clatter as it started to descend toward the top of Didi's head. “The idea was that it would be driven down into the top of the victim's skull until the tip reached the limbic system, the past of the brain responsible for emotion, and then the other end of the spike was attached to a gas injection system, and -”

  “Eddie, I don't want to know!” Didi shouted, tugging at the manacle around her wrist. “Just get me out of this thing!”

  “And when the pressure was high enough,” Edgar continued, with a smile on his face, “a rapid burst of air would be shot down through the spike, and don't forget that the crown would have already weakened the skull earlier, and so the living victim's skull would literally be blown apart from the inside, leaving just the exposed brain and eyeballs. Now, no matter how fast someone would die when something like that happened, there would still have to be a moment of realization. Don't you think that it must be the most horrifically painful way to expire?”

  “Eddie... the things he did...”

  “At least he had respect,” Edgar hissed, his eyes burning with anger. “If he went into town, no-one would turn him away or tell him he wasn't wanted. They'd have bowed down before him and given him anything he demanded. Anything! Fear was his method of gaining control, and it certainly worked, didn't it? Surely you have to see that power can be intoxicating, like a drug.”

  With tears in her eyes, Didi stared back at him.

  Suddenly, he leaned closer and kissed the side of her face.

  “The people of Thaxos fear me,” he whispered, “and their fear is entirely justified. They know the history of my family, and they know how the past, the present and the future tend to link together. But that fear is merely an echo of the fear that once gripped this island when my grandfather was here. His shadow is dark and all-encompassing.”

  “But you're not him,” Didi replied, her voice filled with fear and tension. “You're my Eddie, not the guy who did those things.”

  There was a pause as Edgar stared deep into her eyes.

  “You trust me,” he said finally, almost as if he was surprised by the realization. “You really trust me, don't you?”

  She nodded.
/>
  “And I...”Another pause. “And I trust you.”

  She forced a smile.

  “I feel,” Edgar said after a moment, “that perhaps I have gone a little too far with this demonstration. Nevertheless, I also believe that it was vitally important for me to show you, rather than just tell you, how just one of my grandfather's devices worked. I know you tend to dismiss the study of history, Didi, but I hope that you can see now why it is so fascinating. And it is from history that we can learn from our previous mistakes, and from the mistakes of others, so that we might make better decisions going forward. And that's something that we all need to learn afresh every so often, don't you think?”

  Reaching down, he grabbed one of the gears. His hand stayed where it was for a few seconds, before moving to a second gear. After a moment, he gave the gear a twist, and the metal crown rose up again, away from Didi's head. He loosened the manacle around her wrist, and then he unhooked the plate from across her ankles and swung it open, finally freeing her completely.

  She sat completely still, as if she was too scared to move.

  “So what do you think about my grandfather?” he asked after a moment.

  Slowly, she turned to him.

  “He was a monster, clearly,” he added. “The man was hated by everyone on the island, and rightly so. Looking at it now, I can't even begin to imagine the torment of all those families who must have watched their loved ones coming up to this mansion and then never seeing them again. He was a tyrant and a man of unbelievable cruelty, and there is a danger of such men being seen almost as cartoon villains, as figures of fun. So if I went a little too far just now, my darling, it was for one other reason. I wanted you to understand just what a terrible person he was. Do you understand that now?”

  She nodded, as a single tear rolled down her cheeks.

  “And so to the question that troubles me more than any other,” he continued. “I needed you to understand the full extent of his cruelty, so that you would be able to give me a proper answer. Do you think that such a man could ever be redeemed? If my grandfather, for example, went away and forced himself to become less cruel and less violent, if he spent all his energy trying to suppress that side of his character and becoming a better person... Could such a man change? Could he truly suppress the cruelty in his soul, and could he become a different kind of man? Do you think that would even be possible, and if it was, do you think that he could ever be said to have made up for his past sins? Could he be forgiven?”

  “Why...” She paused for a moment. “Why are you asking?”

  “Just idle curiosity,” he replied. “After all, my grandfather vanished, and I've always wondered what became of him. I'd like to hear your answer to my question.”

  “I don't...” She paused again, her voice trembling with emotion. “I don't know if true evil can ever be made up for,” she said eventually. “If someone is that kind of person, I don't think they can ever change. Not really. Some people... Some people are just born cruel, aren't they? It's in their hearts and there's probably nothing that can be done to save them. I mean, someone who'd use the things down here... How could someone like that ever be anything less than a monster? You can't just flick a switch and change someone's heart.”

  Edgar stared back at her, seemingly lost in thought, until the light above them flickered again.

  “That damn thing,” he said, turning and heading to the doorway. “I've waited long enough for my groundsmen to fix the system around here. I don't care what it involves, I'm going to do the job myself.” Stopping for a moment, he turned back to Didi. “I hope I didn't go too far just now, my darling, but if I did, I promise I'll make it up to you later. We'll have a sumptuous dinner tonight and a relaxing evening together.” He smiled. “I think you're wrong, by the way. I think that a man can change. Maybe he can't get rid of certain parts of his personality, but he can master them and control them, and he can become a better person. I don't believe that it's anyone's unchangeable fate to be cruel.”

  “I hope you're right,” she replied.

  “Me too. Lock up when you leave, won't you?”

  As Edgar headed back up to the main part of the house, Didi remained in the seat, as if fear had frozen her in place. She looked down at the manacles, which now hung loose once again by the side of the device, and for a moment she saw in her mind's eye the image of Edgar smiling as he drove the spike straight into the top of her skull. Finally, she jumped out of the chair and almost tripped over the dangling chains in her haste to get away from the contraption, before turning back to look at the device. Her heart was pounding, and she couldn't shake the feeling that Edgar's interest in these old torture machines was more than a little intense. In fact, for the first time since she'd met him the previous year, he'd genuinely scared her.

  Her ears ringing with the imagined screams of all the women who must have died in the basement, Didi ran to the door and then up the steps, while promising herself that this was the first and last time she'd ever be down in this part of the house.

  VI

  It wasn't much, but at that particular moment the bottle of whiskey was the only thing that made Ephram feel even slightly better. He poured a glass and drank it quickly, then he did the same again, and again and again until the bottle was half empty and he could feel its effects spreading through his body. He had always prided himself on being a godly man, on being the kind of man who took his responsibilities seriously, but on this one night he wanted nothing more than to make the pain go away.

  First, though, he was ready to try one final prayer.

  “I have asked you this before,” he said softly, staring into space as he sat in his yard, “but I shall do it again. Why, Lord, did you allow the Le Compte man to come back to Thaxos? Surely you can see that he brings nothing but pain and suffering in his wake? Did we do something to displease you? Did we sin? I cannot imagine anything that would merit such punishment, but if there is something we can do to change things, you must give us a sign.”

  He waited.

  Looking up, he stared at the blanket of stars in the night sky.

  Silence.

  “Anything,” he whispered, with tears in his eyes. “Whatever you want, we'll do it. Just promise that you'll spare the life of Alice Marco. She is a sweet, innocent young woman who never hurt anyone. There is no way that a just god could let this happen to her, so tell me what to do!”

  Again, he waited.

  Again, there was silence.

  He poured another whiskey and downed it in one go, before pouring another and staring at it for a moment. It simultaneously sickened and heartened him, and he knew that drinking wasn't the answer, but at the same time it was the only thing that helped to quieten the sorrow in his heart. Every time his anger faded for a moment, he found his mind drifting back to the sight of Alice Marco as she lay dying.

  “Amen,” he added finally, before taking a drink, dropping his glass and then slowly, painfully getting to his feet. He wobbled for a moment, as the whiskey made it harder than usual for him to find his balance.

  Once he reached the chicken coop, he fumbled for a moment with the door before finally pulling it open and standing back. His last chicken immediately emerged, jumping down onto the ground and hurrying across the yard, as if it was enjoying the return of its freedom. It was a heartening sight, even if Ephram knew that it would be brief.

  “Have fun while you can,” he muttered darkly, watching the bird as it pecked at the floor. “I give up. There's no point fighting any longer. The rats will get you soon, and no-one, not even I, can do a damn thing. Everyone on this island is doomed thanks to Edgar Le Compte, and the lucky ones are those who get out early. So take this as my gift to you, that you might die in the next few hours, before the worst hits the rest of us.”

  Just as he was about to pick up the broken pieces of his glass, he spotted movement over by the door. There was a figure in the store, staring out at him. For a fraction of a second, convinced that Edgar Le
Compte had returned, Ephram stumbled forward, filled with rage; in his hand, he turned one of the broken pieces of glass around, as if he was preparing to use it as a weapon. As he reached the door, however, his heart suddenly sank as he recognized the face staring back at him. It wasn't Edgar; it was Doctor Burns, and from the look in his eyes it was clear that he had come to deliver bad news.

  “Already?” Ephram asked, his eyes filling with tears.

  “Already.”