McCarthy’s breathing went slow. His eyes crossed and then he began to blink fast. “You… You would what? You would be killing yourself!” stammered McCarthy.
“I don’t care, as long as I know you would be suffering.”
“How would you even do it? How would you even be able to get their attention?”
“I’m a billionaire. I’d just set up a press conference and grab the world’s attention. One of them is bound to see it and realize you’re back in this reality, out of your coma. They’d find you so quickly that your head would spin… Spin off.”
McCarthy took two more violent swigs of his scotch bottle. “You have no idea what they would do to you – do to me! They… They can make you feel the pain of all those that have died before…” McCarthy sat down in his desk and rubbed his temples.
“They could slice up your limbs like it was nothing… then the limbs come right back… the growing hurts more… and cut them off again. It’s a living hell. There’s so, so much more horrific…disgusting acts that they committed against humanity,” McCarthy coughed loudly into his hands. “All because they think they’re helping humanity.”
Chairman Obelis walked over to McCarthy and bent down to his eye level. “So we’re in agreement then? You help me become President and control America, then we find these inhumane cultists?”
McCarthy pursed his lips together in disdain. “I don’t really have a choice do I? Either help a pussy or be endlessly tortured.”
“That’s your last warning. Refrain from such words.”
“Yes, sir.” McCarthy saluted weakly then looked down at his feet defeated.
“You’ll be my Karl Rove! Always scheming and looking to exploit the weaknesses of people.”
“I don’t get that reference,” whispered McCarthy before he emptied his scotch bottle into his mouth. “Maybe I do… I’ve been using that Internet nonstop. Everything runs together.”
“Oh, and Joe,” said Chairman Obelis. McCarthy turned lazily to Chairman Obelis. “You know who this woman is, right?” Chairman Obelis pointed at the pinup girl.
“Yup,” replied McCarthy as he twisted his neck oddly and then burped. “Aster Granzella. Most beautiful woman I ever did see.”
“Indeed, Aster Granzella. One of the members of The Flagship.”
Chapter 18
Lizard Lick
The night sky was covered with puffy clouds and swarms of vibrant, blinking fireflies. The fireflies were gathered so fiercely in certain spots in the sky that a person could confuse them for an aircraft or UFO. Each firefly offered a unique color of green, orange, or green-orange. What a sight. No firefly had the exact color bulb, but their cohesion offered a brilliant nightscape to those on the ground.
A security guard at a top-notch reptilian research facility was mesmerized by these fireflies. He stepped out of his security booth and fully embraced the interesting night sky from the road that led into the research facility’s parking lot. “Orange, green, green-orange fireflies! What a sight,” he thought.
It was rare to see a cluster of fireflies in the Portland area with the light pollution and the poorly made sitcoms, so the security guard whipped his cell phone out to take a video to show to his daughter when he got home. Orange, green-orange, green fireflies! What a sight.
“These fireflies will captivate my little girl,” said the security guard quietly. “She’s going to love this nighttime spectacle. Especially since her whore of a mother is trying to take everything I’ve got – which is basically nothing! Though, she’s only trying to make things better for the both of…”
“GORA WATCH OUT!” shrieked Tubman. It was too late.
Gora ran over the security guard with the white van. His face slammed against the windshield and bounced violently off the ground like a basketball with the perfect amount of air.
“FUCK!” screamed Gora. She hit her brakes causing the white van to slide several feet. “Is he okay? He’s gotta be! Shit, we were only supposed to harm Spotila – no one else!” Panic rushed into Gora’s mind. Any ounce of confidence left evaporated.
Gora rushed out of the white van to look for the man. She ran to the front and saw a fantastic dent featuring dark blood and glass. “Where’s the rest of the man?” she thought.
“Please…,” whispered out a voice. “Please, tell my ex-wife and daughter that I lov-”
Hitbear pulled the security guard out from under the van. “Tell her what?” he asked gruffly.
“Tell her that,” coughed the security guard. Blood was dripping out of every facial orifice, his head was indented severely. His eyes were dangling out of his skull and his lips were cracked. “Tell her that,” he said again weakly. Blood was beginning to pool under the man.
“Fuck this,” said Hitbear. He picked the man up and viciously snapped the man’s neck. Skin was barely holding the man together from the neck to the torso. The dangling eyes popped out of his skull and rolled away from the corpse. Hitbear dropped the man back on the road.
“Why’d you do that?” shrieked Gora as she put her hands to her face. Panic was trying to consume her entire state of mind now. She was turning bluish white.
“He was a liability,” said Tubman as she exited the white van. She had found a dark blue bandana in the glove box and placed it on her head. “He was going to die slowly and painfully anyhow.”
Gora stood there staring at the mangled corpse of the security guard. She didn’t want anyone else to get hurt in her revenge plots, just the bastard scientists. Could she keep going for revenge even though the chance for extra causalities was extremely high? “I must, I must,” thought Gora. She quelled the panic as best as she could for now.
“Vee have to keep going, Frau Gora,” said Owlbert. “Death ist ein gruesome but vee must persist. Du must realize it ist over und vee cannot reverse death.”
“Death can be beautiful too, you know,” chimed in Hitbear. “I would argue that Romeo and Juliet’s deaths were beautiful.” Hitbear thought he had flexed his literary muscle but was easily deflated by the seasoned Owlbert.
“Vell ja, it can be beautiful depending on how du become deceased, however, Romeo und Juliet ver dumb kindergarteners that vell in love instantly. That vas zee point of zee play, dumkopf – that love at first sight ist not love und that kindergarteners don’t understand vas true love ist.”
Hitbear looked down at his feet, “Well, I’ve always liked it.” He kicked at a stone on the road that rolled into one of the security guard’s detached eyes.
“Enough with this idiotic talk,” Tubman said aggressively. “Let’s get this shit done. In and out. Park the van; I’ll scout the facility as quickly as I can. Don’t dally.”
Tubman scurried off while Hitbear and Owlbert tried to get Gora out of a trance to park the van. The pair gently guided her to the van and she parked it in one of the many opening parking spaces at the facility. The only cars left at the facility were a pair of silver sedans. These cars were beyond modest in comparison to the opulent facility.
Spotila’s research facility was the epitome of man’s arrogance. It stood at least ten stories high and was adorned with one-way windows that reflected the light emitted by the still present fireflies. Green, orange, orange-green! What a sight, even when reflected.
In front of the facility sat a golden fountain. There were several lizard statuettes circling a lizard humanoid that was placed in the middle of the fountain. It was more bizarre than refined artwork. Water gushed out of the mouth of the lizard humanoid with an impressive force into the pool below. The bipedal lizard had the head of a snake but the snout and teeth of an alligator, the hands of a human but the scales of an iguana. It was a truly unnecessary yet calming fountain. Each statuette wore countless emeralds, diamonds and gold-speckled scales, but appeared as if they were only there to drink the water that the lizard humanoid had to offer. He was, apparently, their God.
The lavishness of Spotila’s research facility was grand, yet the group noticed an
obvious lack of security. Hitbear walked over to the security guard’s booth to find only two monitors for cameras: one pointing at the parking lot fountain and one in what appears as the entrance to the facility.
Gora and Owlbert stood outside of the booth as Hitbear fiddled inside.
“Why would such an expensive travesty like this building only have minimal security?” asked Hitbear. He tried to see if the monitors would flip through different camera angles. They did not. “Poland had more security on horseback.”
Calmer now after easing her body and mind of the grips of panic, Gora said, “This area isn’t known for much crime and Spotila is highly regarded in the city of Portland. The people love him dearly. He helped bring back several species from near extinction and donates money to local schools. Mostly, I’d guess, just to see his name up on the school, arrogant bastard.” Gora cleared her throat and began to notice the two remaining beasts peering at her strangely.
“Are we about to kill a good person?” thought Owlbert and Hitbear.
“Even if criminals wanted to steal from Spotila, they wouldn’t find much worth of value, aside from that golden fountain right there.” She raised her hand and pointed at the fountain, yet still kept her gaze at the booth. “Plus, the reptiles would tear the uninitiated to bits or inject venom, poison in them. It just wouldn’t be worth it to criminals.”
Hitbear brushed away the thought away that they may be killing a good person, considering that Gora was his creator. “She couldn’t be wrong,” he thought.
“It still doesn’t make sense that the security is so lax for a building this…this gaudy. Americans are strange people,” grumbled Hitbear through the booth’s window. “How much longer is Tubman going to take?”
“Shouldn’t be much longer, Hitbear. Let’s get rid of this guy’s body,” stated Gora. “Or at least get it off the road.”
“Jawohl!” chirped Owlbert loudly. He received a glare from Gora and Hitbear. “It means, ‘yeah’ in English…”
Hitbear exited the booth and walked on all fours to the man’s body; what was left of it. Gora watched Hitbear’s gait to see if the new paw was working as she envisioned. It was.
Gora slowly made her way to the body of the unfortunate guard and began to think about giving him a proper burial in the facility’s nearby woods but Hitbear beat her to the body and decided for her. He picked up the man and flung him into nearby brush. “Done,” said Hitbear. He smacked his paws together and smiled.
Gora watched in horror as the body was tossed into the brush and the man’s head broke apart from the rest of his body. The head then rolled away from the body and was caught on a stump. The skin just couldn’t quite hold him together.
She tightened her eyes and took a deep breath.
“Whatever,” said Gora in an irritated tone. “Don’t let the panic and anxiety consume you, don’t let it,” she thought.
“How would you feel if that was your body?” she asked Hitbear.
“I’d be dead, who cares?” said Hitbear. The pair glared at one another with an annoyed rage. “Don’t you agree with me, Owlbert?” Hitbear was seeking support but was ruefully ignored.
“Here comes zee Tubman!” said Owlbert. He flapped his wings excitedly as the hare hopped back to the group from the fanciful building. Tubman’s movements weren’t heard by the group, as she moved silently on the asphalt.
“What’s the word?” asked Gora. Her arms were folded and face emotionless, disguising her internal troubles.
“I couldn’t find a soul in there,” said Tubman. Tubman sucked in air as fast as a hare could. Being silent and swift was tough on the newly created hare. Her endurance was lacking. “I need to get back into my conductor shape – I could run for miles and miles without needing rest.”
“How the hell did you check that entire building that quickly?” pondered Hitbear out loud. “I don’t think that’s humanly – er – hare-ly possible! Har-har!”
Owlbert groaned at the joke. He even covered his eyes with his wings.
Tubman didn’t catch the horrible pun. “There’s a second security hub inside – right inside actually. A door marked ‘Security Only’ with no lock or any other security. I thought there were supposed to be others?” She looked towards Gora.
“I don’t understand the lack of security, still,” said Hitbear. “Even the most trustworthy area should have some security; not just one guy in a booth.”
“I told you, he feels truly safe here,” said Gora. “He’s arrogant as well, cough the fountain cough.” Gora’s fake coughing caused her to have an actual coughing fit. “There was supposed to be some security, though. I’m perplexed.”
“I’ll continue as if I weren’t interrupted,” said Tubman. “There were twenty to thirty monitor things – whatever you call them – covering all floors and important rooms. Well, I’m not sure if they were actually important or not.” Tubman took another deep breath before continuing. “There were different animals, all reptiles, in different cages and tanks. Some were under bright lights, while others were in an all water tank. Some were a mixture of environments.” Tubman stretched her back and hare-equivalent hamstrings. “I saw absolutely no sign of life in there, aside from the reptiles, I mean. Also, If I was looking at the correct monitors, much of the building isn’t even in use.”
Hitbear hit Tubman on the back causing her to cough loudly. “Great work, I knew I liked you!”
“Oh, fuck off,” snapped back Tubman. Hitbear smirked then winked at his long-eared compatriot.
Gora tilted her head and turned towards the facility. “So, Doctor Spotila was nowhere to be found? That’s depressing, we killed that man for no reason then!”
“Well, you killed that man, not us – but, also, I did hop through the first floor of the building after peaking at all the monitors and found a door with large words on it,” said Tubman.
“And?” asked Hitbear.
“And it said in all capital letters ‘DOCTOR SPOTILA ONLY.’ The letters were in a bright yellow that hurt my eyes. It was excessively bright.”
Gora rubbed her chin gently. “He’s in there. He’s got to be.” She turned toward the building with a grimace. “He’s doing an immoral test tonight, that’s why he doesn’t want too much security here tonight – in case one of the guards caught him in the act.”
“Let’s get the fuck in there, now. I want to test this new paw out!” stated Hitbear gleefully. He moved the metal paw and clicked the new claws together. Clink, clink, clink went Hitbear’s claws. “Damn, I expected some sparks to fly from clinking these together.”
“Absolutely. Let’s take down this fucker,” nodded Tubman in agreement with the bear. She did a rigid back-flip in excitement.
“Fine. Owlbert, stay here and be our lookout,” ordered Gora.
Owlbert nodded and flew up a nearby tree to find a perfectly sized branch to hold his abnormally high weight for an owl. He began to do vocal exercises to really sell that he was an owl perched in a tree. Whoo, whoo, whoo! His faint whoo, whoo, whoo’s could be heard until the group entered the research facility.
“Where’s this door?” asked Gora. Each member stretched out their body parts in preparation of escaping and for any unforeseen grappling that may happen beyond the secret door.
“Follow me, quickly and – most importantly – silently,” said Tubman. She hopped with an unstable grace down the hall, while Gora jumped on Hitbear’s back. Hitbear tiptoed slowly on his back paws, following the enigmatic hopping Tubman closely. He was surprisingly adept at sneaking through the hall for being a several hundred pound creature. Even more impressive was that he had only been this creature for a handful of weeks.
“You ever watch Yogi Bear, Hitbear?” asked Gora, not realizing Hitbear’s human self had never watched modern cartoons and cartoons were not uploaded into the Beast Machine creation process. “You could probably steal a few pic-a-nic baskets, eh?” She giggled quietly to herself.
“What’s a Yogi?” rep
lied the befuddled Hitbear.
Gora covered her face in embarrassment with one hand and screamed internally.
The inside of the research facility was lacking in opulence in comparison to the brilliant outside decor. Black and white ceiling panels were found throughout the building and the floor would randomly switch between tile and carpet – the tile was a ghastly tope color and the carpet was an underwhelming puke green-yellow. The carpet wasn’t stained or ruined, but would likely give a person the heebie-jeebies if they touched the carpet.
“The good Dr. Spotila must not have hired the same people that did the outside?” asked Hitbear. “It’s worse looking than a concentra-,” Hitbear smartly cut himself off before feeling the wrath of Gora once again. She did not hear Hitbear as she was still embarrassed from her previous remark.
The doors of each room were black with no windows. Each door had a piece of lined paper taped to it with whatever was to take place in the room.
Iguana Eye Tests
Alligator Dental Procedures
Boa Constrictor Massage Therapy
Gila Monster Plastic Surgery
Scale Transplant
Turtle Interior Design
The building was as bizarre inside as it was beautifully arrogant on the outside.
After several twists and turns on the first floor, “Here it is,” Tubman pointed to the door as Hitbear, with Gora still holding tightly on his back, trailed behind deftly. The door’s letters were bright yellow and stung the eyes, just like Tubman had told them.
Gora hopped off the back of her mount.
“Did you try to open it?” said Gora.
“No, why would I?” said Tubman.
“I’ll do it,” said Hitbear. “I’ll open it up with my brute strength!” Hitbear put his non-metal paw on the handle. “OH SHIT, OW OW OW!” He fell to the ground and started to writhe, causing a loud thumping noise to permeate through the empty building. THUMP, THUMP, THUMP echoed down the hall through the building.
Gora and Tubman shrieked loudly and ran to Hitbear’s side.
Beast Machine Page 12
