The Printer From Hell

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The Printer From Hell Page 7

by Amy Cross


  “Lost in your own little world?” she adds with a grin. She's had even less sleep than me, but Josh's return seems to have re-energized her somehow. “I was thinking we should probably do something today to celebrate. Nothing too tiring, I'm sure Josh is exhausted, but maybe we could go to the park, something like that? Just something that makes us feel normal again.”

  “Sure,” I reply, even though I really just want to sleep.

  “That's all it takes,” the woman's voice continues, echoing in my mind. “You can be smart every second of every day, but then one slip... He drove his car straight... straight into...”

  “Can we get ice cream?” Josh asks.

  Looking down at him, I realize that he seems absolutely back to his normal self, and I guess that's the most important thing. All the fear is gone from his eyes, and to all intents and purposes he appears to be a perfectly healthy little boy.

  “We can most definitely get ice cream,” I tell him. “Let's all just freshen up a little first and then we can head out.”

  “Ice cream!” he yells excitedly, running through to his bedroom. “Yay!”

  “It's like nothing was ever wrong,” Mary points out, although I can tell she's still a little worried. “I can't believe the doctors still don't have a handle on it. What do you think it was? Some kind of weird, twenty-four-hour bug?”

  “They didn't seem too worried at the hospital,” I remind her. “They said he's as fit and healthy as any kid they've ever seen.”

  “What if it happens again?”

  “They said -”

  “But they don't know for sure!” she points out, interrupting me. “They were guessing, it was so obvious. After all those tests they ran, they still couldn't work out what was wrong with him in the first place.”

  I can't argue with her. She's right.

  “I want chocolate chip!” he shouts from his bedroom. “No vanilla!”

  “At least we've got him back,” Mary continues, kissing the side of my neck. “We need to talk about all the other stuff at some point, but right now I just want to enjoy the day as a family. And I really, really need more coffee.”

  “I'll put a pot on,” I tell her, heading to the kitchen as she goes into the bathroom. “And maybe we can stop somewhere and get an espresso. Hell, maybe even a triple. I swear to God, I'm damn near falling asleep on my feet.”

  A few minutes later, once I've set the coffee on, I feel my phone vibrating in my pocket. Slipping it out, I'm surprised to see that Magnus the IT guy is trying to get in touch. I briefly consider rejecting the call, before figuring that if he's bothering me on a Sunday morning, something might actually be wrong. Plus, knowing Magnus, there's no way he'll stop calling just because I don't answer. He'll call again and again and again, until either I answer or I have to switch my phone off.

  “Hey,” I say as I accept the call, “whatever it is, I really think it can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Hey dude,” he replies, sounding annoyingly chipper. “I didn't wake you, did I?”

  Checking my watch, I see that it's almost 10am.

  “Surprisingly not,” I mutter. “Listen, I've had a hell of a night so -”

  “You are going to fall in love with me,” he continues, “and worship at my feet. Like, literally. You are going to think I'm some kind of deity.”

  I pause, waiting for him to continue.

  “I... really don't think I am,” I say finally. “Why? What have you done?”

  “Remember that company you mentioned the other day? The one who made that printer you were having trouble with?”

  I feel a faint shiver in my chest as I think back to that goddamn machine. This is the last thing I want to be thinking about right now.

  “I've given up on it,” I tell him. “I know what you said about mastering the beast and all that crap, but -”

  “Maxinomoticon, right?” he continues. “Are you absolutely positive that was the name on the box? And maybe some other words, like Kobinhayi or Massinkta?”

  “Did you find a manual?” I ask cautiously.

  “I realized after a while that I had a vague recollection of the name,” he replies, “but like you said, there's no mention of them on the internet. At least, not on the regular internet. That's when I had a brainwave and figured I needed to dig deeper.”

  “There's another internet?”

  “Have you never been on the dark-net, dude?” he asks. “Seriously, if you just stick to the boring, safe net all the time, you're missing out on all the really fun stuff. The dark-net is the part of the internet where people go to get away from prying eyes, that sort of thing. There's no search engine that covers this shit, and some of the sites out there are really wrong and disgusting, and there are a lot of weirdos, but if you -”

  “Can you get to the point?” I ask, feeling as if he's about to bore me to death.

  “There's a guy on the dark-net who has this page, and he mentions Maxinomoticon a couple of times. Have you ever heard of Dzigniav Wolonovsky?”

  Sighing, I feel as if Magnus is trying to lead me down a rabbit-hole. “No, but -”

  “Wolonovsky's this guy,” he continues excitedly, “who claims to have traveled one time to an alternate world, a world that exists as a kind of dark reflection of our own. I know the whole thing probably sounds totally nuts, but he goes into a staggering amount of detail about this place. His page has even got maps, diagrams, drawings... Hell, he even attempted to recreate some of the sounds using a sim program.”

  “Right,” I mutter, “so he's just another online nut-job.”

  “That's what pretty much everyone has always thought. I mean, the dude wrote out massive accounts of his time in the alternate world, millions and millions of words. He named it Hell, because he said its real name, in its original language, is just too complex to be expressed. He reproduced some of their text, and it's the trippiest thing you can imagine, like it's not even words at all. And he talked about the people he met, and what they're like, and he even tried to rationalize the whole goddamn insane set-up they've got going on over there. He called them Hellforms, he said they're like us but they're gross and rotten and violent, and their world is like this place of pure madness. In other worlds, it's like Hell!”

  I sigh again. “Magnus -”

  “Anyway, he ended up locked in a psych ward after he, like, went wacko or something one night.”

  “Charming.”

  “But at a couple of points in his account of the Hellform world, he mentions a tech company named Maxinomoticon.”

  I pause, waiting for him to continue. I want to tell him I'm tired, or to hang up, but I guess he's just about managed to catch my interest.

  “Well?” I ask after a moment. “What does he say about them? Does he mention how to make their goddamn printers work?”

  “Maxinomoticon is like this pretty big deal in the Hellform world. They make, like, computers and stuff. Basically he says the Hellform world is just like our world, except infinitely more violent, and it's like this twisted reflection of everything that we have here in this world. People just outright murder each other over there, dude, and that's not even all of it. Torture, rape, all this extreme violence is a part of everyday life in that place. He says there are literally people getting killed in the streets, in broad daylight, and nobody does anything about it 'cause everyone basically thinks it's okay.”

  “That sounds like utter nonsense,” I tell him.

  “The point is, the Hellform world is almost identical to our world in pretty much every other way. And this Maxinomoticon company is a big corporation that's, like, one of the biggest in their world. Now, he doesn't specifically mention printers, but he says they make computers and a bunch of other devices, so it stands to reason, right? I assume you're starting to catch my drift.”

  “Hey,” a sultry female voice says suddenly on the other end of the line, “come to bed, honey.”

  “Give me two minutes,” he tells her.

  “Is that
your wife?” I ask.

  “It's Sunday morning,” he replies. “What do you and your wife do on Sunday mornings?”

  I open my mouth to ask more questions, before realizing that this entire conversation is making my head hurt.

  “I have to go,” I tell him. “Thanks for taking the time to call me and tell me about this lunatic, Magnus, but it sounds a little too way-out for my liking. I think maybe we have some crossed wires somewhere.”

  “There's more,” he continues enthusiastically. “Steve, according to Dzigniav Wolonovsky, this other world is like -

  “I really don't need to know,” I say firmly. “Listen, my kid was kinda sick in the night. Everything's okay now, but we're all exhausted here and we really, really need a normal day. And as for that printer, it's already safely in a box in the basement and I'm gonna throw it out as soon as I get a chance. Maybe I'll even smash it to pieces with a hammer. So whatever Maxinomoticon is and wherever they come from, I think I'm gonna leave that particular stone unturned.”

  “But dude -”

  “Seeya at work tomorrow, Magnus,” I add. “Go have fun with your wife.”

  Before he can say another word, I cut the call, just in time to see that the coffee is ready. For a moment, feeling as if I've got insanity rushing at me from every direction, I simply stare at the pot and try to get my thoughts together. God knows what Magnus was on about just now, but I'm certain he's barreling down the wrong path. Just because some random guy ranted about stuff online, that doesn't mean I have to give a damn. It's all just a coincidence.

  “Who was that?” Mary asks as she wanders through.

  “Oh, nobody,” I mutter, already starting to pour two cups. “Just the IT guy from work. Nothing important.”

  “And are you sure you're okay?” She puts her hands on my shoulders from behind and kisses the side of my neck. “Back at that service station, there was a moment when you seemed totally out of your mind.”

  I pause, thinking back to the sight of that woman peeling her wrecked body from the wall and crawling toward me.

  “I'm fine,” I say finally. “Nothing a relaxed day won't fix, anyway. We've been under a lot of stress lately.” I turn to her. “It's time to get everything back to normal.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  “I'm just saying we could think about moving,” Mary continues later, as we sit at a little cafe in the park. Josh is playing nearby on the climbing frame, apparently back to his old self and full of energy. “We could afford a bigger place.”

  “I admit the last couple of days have been kind of crazy,” I reply, “but that's no reason to -”

  “And if we want to get a little brother or sister for Josh,” she adds, “we definitely need more space.”

  I hesitate for a moment, seeing the glint in her eye.

  “A brother or sister for Josh?” I say cautiously.

  “Don't tell me you haven't thought about it.” She takes a sip of coffee, but she can't hide that grin for long. “We always planned to have more than one kid.”

  Glancing over at Josh, I can't help thinking that maybe it would be good to expand our family a little. The past couple of days notwithstanding, life has been going pretty well lately and we can certainly afford to take the next step.

  “As long as this isn't just about the weirdness,” I say finally, turning back to Mary. “You know there's nothing wrong with our current apartment, right?”

  “We'll agree to disagree on that,” she replies. “But let's start looking around, maybe see what's out there. We could -”

  “You fucking whore! You fucking goddamn bitch!”

  Turning, I see that a woman is storming across the park, followed closely by a disheveled, angry-looking man who seems to be trying to get her attention.

  “Are you ignoring me?” he yells, grabbing her arm. “Do you think you get to fucking ignore me after -”

  “Go fuck yourself!” she shouts, turning and shoving him away. “If you come near me one more time, I swear to God I cut your fucking head off!”

  “Oh yeah?” he replies, grabbing her shoulder again. “Are you threatening me, you fucking c-”

  “Okay!” Mary says firmly, hurrying over to the climbing frame and grabbing Josh, putting her hands over his ears as she carries him back to the cafe. Nearby, several other parents are doing the same with their kids as the screaming match continues. “I think we've heard more than enough of that.”

  “I should fucking cut your throat while you're sleeping!” the woman hisses at the man as they get closer. “I should cut your fucking balls off and shove them down your throat!”

  “Hey!” I call out. “Do you mind watching your language? There are kids around!”

  “Who the fuck do you think you are?” the woman yells at me, her eyes filled with anger. “Fucking prick!”

  “Do you want to take your argument somewhere else?” I ask, stepping toward her. “This is a family park!”

  “See, whore?” the man snaps, slapping the back of her head and then ducking out of the way when she turns to hit him back. “No-one wants you around. Even these fine people can tell you're a slut.”

  She chases after him, trying to hit him again, and gradually they start heading toward the far side of the park.

  “Mummy,” Josh says, trying to look back over at the man and woman, who are still shouting obscenities and shoving one another, “why are those people so angry? And why are they saying such mean things to each other?”

  “Never mind,” she tells him, setting him down next to the table as the two idiots head off across the park. “Wow,” she adds, turning to me. “Great, huh? You go out as a family on a Sunday morning, and people like that think it's perfectly acceptable to start yelling at each other in the middle of a public space. What's the world coming to?”

  “They're gone now,” I mutter, watching as the two assholes disappear over the crest of a hill, still pushing and shoving each other. Their voices can still just about be heard in the distance, but at least the worst is over. “And you need to forget any rude words you just heard,” I add, turning to Josh. “Sometimes adults say very mean things to each other, but there's no need to get scared.”

  “I don't know what the world's coming to,” Mary says, forcing a smile even though I can tell the incident made her feel very uncomfortable. She glances over her shoulder, as if she's worried the couple might come back, and then she turns to me again. “Some people are just... disgusting.”

  “You're very hot when you're morally outraged,” I tell her.

  “It's not funny!” she says firmly, with a look in her eyes that immediately lets me know I need to take the situation more seriously. “I don't want Josh hearing things like that. It's not right!”

  ***

  Later that evening, after a long and tiring day at the park, we finally get home and I start making dinner while Mary takes a shower. Josh is playing in his room, and I've got the local news running on my laptop, and somehow the world just seems right again. Our little hiccup is over.

  “And in other developments,” the news anchor announces, “police have now made one arrest following the discovery of a dead body in the River's Roll area of the city.”

  I glance at the screen just in time to see a photo of a familiar face. Shocked, I realize it's the foul-mouthed man from the park earlier.

  “Ronald Ethan Ambery,” the anchor continues, “was found with multiple stab wounds in the bathroom of a coffee shop near Waverley Park shortly after midday. Police now say that his girlfriend Sharon Makepeace is in custody and has been charged with Mr. Ambery's murder.”

  The screen now shows a photo of a second person, and sure enough it's the same woman who was involved in the argument earlier. Even in her mugshot, she looks angry.

  “No motive has yet been disclosed, but neighbors of the couple say that police have been called several times over the past few weeks to a series of domestic disturbances at their Three Rises home. Sharon Makepeace is expected to ma
ke a court appearance on Monday, while Mr. Ambery's family have described him as a loving husband and father.”

  “Yeah, right,” I mutter, before realizing that I'm possibly being a little unfair. Still, as I hear Mary coming through from the bathroom, I quickly close the laptop lid. There's no point reminding her of that horrible incident, since it'd only freak her out even more.

  “Sure, Dad,” she says, holding her phone against the side of her face as she stops and sneaks a slice of bell pepper from the chopping board. “So haven't you talked to anyone since I left? Have you just been sitting there, watching TV all the time?”

  She waits, and I can already see from the look in her eyes that she's worried.

  “You should try going to the senior center down the road,” she continues. She tries to take another slice of pepper, but this time I shoo her hand away. “Dad, you can't just spend all day in the house, it's not good for you.”

  Heading to the fridge, I grab an onion, but I'm starting to think that Mary's going to want us to take another trip to see her father some time soon.

  “Well, I'm coming over there when I get the chance,” she says finally. “Josh has a break from school this week, so we'll stop by when you least expect it.”

  Once she's finished the call, she seems lost in thought for a moment.

  “It's okay if you want to go see him again during the week,” I tell her. “Is he really in such a bad way?”

  “It's probably nothing,” she replies, “but I'm worried he might be depressed. Ever since Mom died, he just hasn't seem to have the energy to do anything at all.

  “Then you should pay him another visit,” I add, kissing her on the shoulder before heading to the door. “Maybe we can all go. I'm sure Josh'd like to see his Grandpa.”

  Heading through to Josh's room, I find to my surprise that he's sitting quietly on the end of his bed, staring straight ahead.

  “Are you hungry, buddy?” I ask.

  He hesitates for a moment, before slowly turning to me.

  “Are you feeling okay?” I continue, stepping over to him.

 

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