by Nathan Lunn
Douglass caught up to Kye, rustling the reflective foil over his back once more as he ducked down and observed the house with him. The distinct lack of visible movement only served to raise the tension, and a single cloud above them drifted into view, darkening the house for a moment and throwing the figures in the glass into shadow. Giving him no time for recuperation, Kye pushed forward, using the light cover they had been given to make his way to the house's doorway, content that the security had been taken care of.
35
Closing the door behind him and Douglass with a light creak, Kye turned back to the entryway in front of him, having to manually stifle a gasp as he took in the magnificent splendour presented in the open atrium two floors high. A kaleidoscope of tropical colours leaked onto the floor from the stained glass above his back, intermingling with the rippling water running down the sculpture in the centre of the room – depicting a frighteningly fierce, aquamarine blue lion, its jaw wide and teeth bared, lightly washing water lapping against the sides of the wide dish below – chips of rare minerals rising and settling at the bottom of the dish. Stretching to the left and right were two long corridors, doors scored into the sides, placed opposite light-drawing windows, the sun’s uninterrupted shine illuminating and bouncing off the red plaster walls. Past the fountain, a half-moon staircase stretched between the two visible floors, the left and right side equally furnished with a luxuriously soft vermillion carpet that rolled down the steps and joined at the top balcony, a few feet from the doorway that led to the north wing of the house. Below this balcony, black striations ran through the white marble floor, an open gate leading to the courtyard outside.
“Okay, hold on. Let me just consult the blueprints, see which way we should go to,” Kye said, tapping his temple. His commlink appeared, the internal colour tinged lightly yellow from his new optical prosthetic – a multi-floored layout of the complex span, his position throbbing in a light red disc. “I can’t make heads nor tails of this from this angle, let's walk through to the middle.”
“Should we not consult the sensor? Avoid the more populated wings of the house?” Douglass asked, rummaging around in the sack for the handheld device he knew was in there.
“I’m not sure the charge can handle it, we only have the one blast,” Kye replied, sidestepping around the fountain, running his hands through the sparkling minerals. “Could get a view of the whole house from the courtyard?” Douglass nodded, and passed over the sensor he had finally found: a thin black box, unlit screen pushed into the front, radar dish on the other side poking out. He looked down at the fountain well and sighed.
“Unbelievable waste of wealth. What does this even do?” Douglass asked, pocketing a tiny purple crystal as he shook the water off his wrist.
“Can’t expect anything better to come,” Kye said, stepping under the balcony and out into the courtyard. The doorway above him continued in a contained bridge over the top of the courtyard, meeting the other three wings as a raised cross hanging high over the grass and stone mix littering the main square – each symmetrically complete with an open doorway below them. Kye paused as he noticed the main attraction, a sleeping blue lion resting in the cool shadows of the far north wall, its broad chest slowly pushing its head back as it breathed deep sighs. Kye pulled up a hurried fist, commanding Douglass to stop as they both made their way to the middle of the courtyard, standing directly underneath the cross of the bridge. He indicated towards the East exit, reiterating his point with another jabbed finger, panic clearly seeping into his decision making. Douglass held up a hand, pointing to Kye’s chest and lowering his hand. Kye nodded, slowing his desperate breathing to a thin trickle as Douglass held up the sensor once more. In the shadows of the cross, Kye connected it to his commlink and activated it, crouching low and cupping his hands over the volume to deafen the beeps that came out as the dish span around. His expectations reversed, the sensor only brought up six pings on his screen and internal display, all situated towards the East wing, and clustered fairly close together, save for the lion who came up a few metres away from them. With a slow whine, the device shut off. Kye pointed over to the east once more and crept towards the doorway, Douglass mirroring his movement with a careful ease. They froze and hearts dropped as a low snarl came from the lion – a smacking sound scared them further to turn and look, relaxing when they realised he was just moving in his slumber. Slipping into the doorway, they slid the doors shut and let out a relieved breath, bending over and punching the kink out of their back as more oxygen got to their system.
“Why the hell didn’t that come up in your investigation?” Kye hissed, grabbing Douglass’ arm roughly.
He shrugged Kye off and stormed back from the door, his sack jangling as he made his way down the corridor, staring for a few moments at the sign hanging above him, titled: Nursing Wing.
“Don’t grab me again, Kye. I was only able to glean limited information in the time I had – we just need to be on our guard, okay?” Douglass spoke freely, his voice bouncing down the stretched corridor that lay ahead of them. The sunlight filtered into this wing slowly, and the single floor was brightly designed and incredibly clean – the white paint and flooring almost as reflective as a mirror. Their feet clicking as they made their way down the corridor, Kye and Douglass had to slow down before they reached each new doorway on their right, sighing a little as they saw it was empty; they walked past a variety of rooms, all outlined for leisure: a billiards room with two felted tables, varnished pool sticks clipped onto the wall; a home theatre, the projector rolling silent and leather chairs freshly shined; a wood-fired and blanketed sauna, clear of steam and occupants. Kye’s arm had begun to flare up a little, growing at around ten percent extra of its normal size, and Douglass had activated his stun baton, and had chosen to jab it into each doorway in some form of preparation of attack. Kye eventually grew tired of this, and after consulting his commlink and confirming that they had been at least a few hundred metres from the pings when they were in the courtyard, and that they were now still one hundred away, he spoke to Douglass, standing back up to his regular height.
“Look, they’re not in any of these rooms. They’re all empty, for some reason…” He tailed off as they reached the stairs at the end of the corridors, raising them up and into the second floor. Crouching low once more, they moved up the stairway, the open windows on their side providing a brilliantly clear view of the rim of the bowl they were just prone on top of. “You check the backside, I’ll stick to the front, yeah?” Kye asked Douglass as they reached the top of the steps, the uninterrupted view of this higher corridor quelling any fighting worries instantly. It was empty. “What the…” Kye whispered, his voice almost cutting through the thick veil of silence.
“How far to the pings?” Douglass whispered back, his stun baton held aloft down the new area. The quiet that followed as Kye consulted his commlink was eerie – at any place in the country it was unusual to see quiet, and at such a constant and high quality here, it had been sure to unnerve them.
“Should be at the end of the corridor here,” Kye replied, talking at the lowest tone he could possibly muster. “I don’t like this, Douglass.” Douglass shook his head, and forged ahead, breaking stride almost immediately as he reached the first doorway.
The door was open like the rest had been, and Douglass could see the sum of its contents clearly, preserved in a single moment of time like a museum exhibit – this was somebody’s bedroom. Upon a comfortable queen-sized bed, fully fluffed pillows held up a grouping of plush animals and was tightly and freshly made lying next to a tidy and ordered desk, both carpeted in a thin layer of dust. A personal computer lay dormant against the far wall, and a variety of children’s picture holobooks and devices were stacked against the floor closer to this – lying in wait to be picked up. A humming CADuceus machine was placed in the corner. Douglass leaned in (choosing to not step inside) and read the name on the doorway, aloud: “Morgana.”
He looked back
at Kye as he joined him in looking, staying silent. Kye felt his insides twist, a small twitch flickering at the corner of his mouth. Moving to the next open doorway, he noted the few variations in the room’s design and population, the lack of children’s toys and frequent paper pads that could be seen dotted around the place. He read the sign, another knife slipping into his stomach: Alexis. He shook his head clean as his vision flickered yellow a moment, and moved forward to the next open door, getting closer to the end of the corridor.
Ellie. Her room was clean and respectful, a lesser layer of dust remaining on the open diary book that lay across the desk. A television built into the wall was on standby, the input tray below open and vacant of any type of disc. Kye gritted his teeth as his stomach pains began to cease, mutating in his gut to something else, something dull and heavy.
Isaiah. A less ordered room than the others, clearly some sort of effort had been made to identify and place the mess: stacks of clothing, crinkled but folded were dotted around the carpet floor; a stained blanket draped lazily over the bed; torn and singed-edged papers placed one over the other on his chipped and gouged desk. The dullness had risen from his stomach to his throat, choking him and stealing his breath as he looked around the destructive room. Douglass had started to walk a few steps behind, noticing the changes in Kye’s demeanour and body language.
Godfrey. The last open doorway held a bare room, devoid of emotion and personality – a clean white single bed in the corner was made, and the desk to its side was empty save for an open glass bottle of water. A picture frame was placed against the wall where the TV had been, depicting a various montage of uncomfortable women standing next to the smiling soldier. Kye shuddered as the dull feeling in his throat finally exited through his mouth as a growl. Storming from the empty room’s entryway, he stopped at the final door, which was different – facing from the east side unlike the others, and closed shut.
Arthur and Lucille. The cleaned brass sign shone Kye’s own eyeline back at himself, the pupils in his right eye dilated so far as to remove the iris entirely. He didn’t recognise the marred and crazed face staring back at him, the motions and small movements his face took imperceptible to his own feelings, but viewed as though through another’s eyes. He exhaled, hard, and the brass went foggy, the names disappearing under his influence. Ignoring Douglass entirely and his teeth gritted together so hard his jaw began to ache, Kye slammed through the door. The five remaining pings disappeared from his display as he entered the room.
***
Similar to the other previous rooms in the nursing wing, this was a small room, with a large bed against the left wall, a humming CAduceus machine and a populated desk placed up against that. Different from the others, this room had a window of its own against the West wall – even from behind Kye could recognise the stained glass window which had depicted Arthur in all his regalia. The unfiltered sun slipping through the coloured panes gave the room a warring feel – the chromatic explosion left no room for a single colour to dominate, and it was at once unnerving and beautiful. Kye immediately noticed the four orderlies dressed in scrubs, standing in a protective wing around the bed – they had various tools and surgical instruments in their hands, which paled in comparison to the raw power Kye’s arm was emitting – a pulsing purple force that throbbed at his side, itching to be unleashed on a member of the Croft family. Behind this mediocre wall of human defence, Kye could see a resting hand poking out of the bed sheets, an IV drip running from this.
“Weapons down!” he roared, spittle flying from his flapping lips. “Move to the other side of the room, now!” The orderlies stood their ground, and Kye slammed his arm to the door sign, punching a hole directly through the brass addition and to the other side. The orderlies yelled in panic and two of the four moved across to the other side of the room, waiting near the desk. Those that were holding weapons had placed them down on the desk behind; Douglass walked into the room and took a stance next to Kye, his stun baton aloft but a look of confusion on his face. The man in the bed fully revealed, Kye lowered his arm from the door, chips falling to the ground once more.
Arthur Croft, his face awash in the multi-colour shadow of his portrait, lay in the bed, head propped up by his pillows and hand resting by his sides. A gaunt face stared back at them, his sunken eyes enlarged by the spectacles resting lightly on his crooked nose, mouth slightly agape in a disillusioned frown. A thin smattering of hair rested on his head, pulled back from his pock-marked and crinkled forehead, shock white and sparse – a black plastic bump lifted out of his temple, a stark contrast to the pale skin surrounding it; the thick covers on the bed were pulled far up to the middle of his chest, heavy enough to push down his weakened form – a remnant of muscles hung loosely off his bony frame, a reminder of his past abilities. A permanent impression of removed jewellery could be noticed dotted over his body, leaving a weird deformed look in its absence. His head lolled to the side of the pillow, and a tortured moan escaped his lips as the brightest part of the stained glass passed over his eyes. His hand raised, juddering, palm flat out.
“Who’s that?” Kye asked the orderlies, pointing a shaking arm at the man in the bed. “Where’s Arthur?”
The orderlies replied, as Arthur moaned again, unable to form a proper sentence, his hand itching for his head but falling short, “That’s him there.” They shuffled around a little, and one stepped forward and spoke, “We know who you are. You’re the murderers who’ve been going around and offing the Crofts. Stay away from him.”
Kye smirked a little at the pathetic display, looking around to Douglass whose face was still one of confusion, the smirk dying as noticed.
“We are here for him, so just move out the way and we won’t need to hurt you all. Understand?” Kye spoke to them slowly, his face trained on the frail man in the bed, too focused to notice one of the further back orderlies pressing a small button on the underside of the desk.
Another stepped forward to join the first, reiterating his point, “No, you’re not going to kill him. Get out of here, now.”
Kye relaxed his pose enthusiastically, confident that they weren’t going to pose any threat, and pulled a pistol from his sack, dropping it to aim directly at the senile man lying in the bed. He gave the gun a little shake, inclined his head, stuck his eyebrow up.
“We aren’t leaving until he is gone, I’m afraid. You don’t have to die for him.” Douglass had stepped back from Kye, the stun baton in his hand unlit and limp. “Hello?” Kye waved his arm around as the orderlies stood fast. “It’s a simple choice, and if I’m being honest, I know what I would choose.”
Douglass murmured behind him, his mind on something else, “Kye, don’t. Let them be.”
Kye ignored him, persisting, “He’s not worth your life is he? Him?”
The two orderlies held their scalpels up.
“Why are you doing this?” one asked, confusion on his face. “He’s not hurting anyone, not doing anything bad. He’s harmless! Sick!”
Kye jabbed his gun forward, seething through his teeth, “This whole family is sick. I’m the cure. You see?”
The orderly shook his head, face cracking under the pressure.
“You’re a murderer! Look at him, he’s already nothing. You won’t be helping anyone by taking him away, just let him rest and let us finish the procedure!” Kye’s eyes narrowed, as though he had only just clicked that they were wearing scrubs and holding scalpels.
“What procedure? What are you even doing here?” Douglass pushed his shoulder, pointing with the baton to the desk once more, where Kye looked at the spotless silver case, stamped with a bright blue lion insignia, lying upon it – almost indistinguishable from the one they had destroyed. “That case… that’s why Charlie was killed. You made another?” He shook further, and the last two orderlies moved from him, catching the unhinged look in his eye and deciding it was safer even further back from the desk and the case. One tried to mutter at him, but Kye just yelled out, “We
are helping him to move on to a better self, giving him a sense of closure–”
“Kye, calm down,” Douglass placed a hand on his shoulder, instantly shrugged away. “They’re right, just stop.” Kye paused, his arm glitching by his side as he turned to stare at him. Douglass gripped the stun baton harder and planted his feet, adding, “Look at him. He’s old. He’s weak, not worth killing.”
Kye spluttered, spikes rippling along his arm, prosthetic eye rolling in its socket. His grimaced, rage filled growl twisted his scar into a disgusting mess, almost entirely unrecognisable to Douglass. He spat, ready to snap, “All of them are worth killing. You said you would help me, not stop me! Why are you doing this?” A tendril slipped into the doorway, splintering the wood, and Douglas activated the stun baton, the electrical buzz filling the room. “Oh, you’re going to use that, are you? On me?”
“Just stop, Kye. We’re finished, there’s no need to attack anyone. Let’s just leave, okay?” Douglass was talking slowly, on his guard.
“He’s evil! We have to end this now, he alone is the reason Charlie died!” Kye pointed his pistol back to Arthur, who had been propped up by one of the orderlies. “Leave him alone!” Kye screamed, his arm throbbing with energy once more. He whipped back to Douglass, who had risen the baton and was inching away from Kye. “He took him from us, he caused all of this! He is responsible for the death of Charlie, Julie and I won’t let it happen to anyone else.” He had advanced far enough to block Douglass entirely from the doorway, his imposing frame blocking the light behind him.
