by C. T. Phipps
I’d spent the last thirty-five minutes trying to remember every detail I could about Cassie’s time at the asylum. Unfortunately, I couldn’t recall anything more than seeing her there. We’d never interacted, so that memory was questionable. The human mind was a tricky thing and very little information was actually “stored.” It didn’t help that I knew people who had repressed memories, along with people who’d wholly made up pasts that they were certain had happened. It left me doubting reality on several occasions, an irony that was not lost on me since that was the definition of insanity.
“Don’t change the subject,” Nancy said. “As disturbing and fascinating as that may be.”
“I’m just saying you should be prepared for when she betrays you,” I said.
“When she betrays me?” Nancy said. “Not if?”
“Yes,” I said, firmly. “I’m sorry, but I do believe she will.”
“Bark,” Cujo said.
“You stay out of this,” Nancy said, glancing over her shoulder. “You know I’ve taken a big risk in trusting you and your sister.”
“Yes,” I replied. “You did.”
“Gerald too,” Nancy said. “He’s mind-controlled by Aiden Cassidy. So, he’s completely untrustworthy.”
“This is true, but I want to help,” Gerald said.
“Are you bored down there?” I asked, concerned about him. “I mean, can we get you a book or something?”
“Oh, I’m fine,” Gerald said. “This is nothing. It was much worse when I was being drained in the basement. That was a real nightmare.”
I blinked. “You were aware during all that?”
“Yep,” Gerald said. “I’d say I went insane from the experience but how would I know? Crazy people don’t know they’re crazy.”
“That’s actually not true,” I replied. “It’s an unfortunate fact that we often do know we’re ill. It’s just that doesn’t help.”
Honestly, I wasn’t sure if I qualified as mentally ill these days. Yes, I heard voices and had an uncontrollable urge to kill, but that seemed like blaming a wolf for a desire to eat rabbits. Really, slasherdom was more like a magical curse that came with extreme benefits to balance out the drawbacks. Even if I wanted to try to be normal again—which I didn’t since it was now clear that such a thing didn’t protect you from the supernatural intruding on your life—I wasn’t sure how I’d even begin to go about ridding myself of my affliction. It wasn’t like an evil hand I could chainsaw off, strange as that metaphor might be.
“Don’t change the subject,” Nancy said. “Please.”
I closed my eyes. “She’s also using mind-control to make herself more appealing, her words more reasonable.”
Nancy blinked, opened her mouth, then closed them. “Darn.”
“Darn?” I asked.
“Yeah,” Nancy said. “Frigging Heck.”
“I’ll take that as a sign you believe me,” I said. “I’m sorry, though.”
Nancy closed her eyes. “I wanted to believe her.”
“I know,” I replied. “The question is what to do about it now.”
“Magic does explain a few things, though,” Nancy said. “I get a little weird around her. I mean, I like dudes.”
“It doesn’t matter to me one way or the other,” I replied.
Nancy looked at me funny.
“What?” I asked, before it occurred to me that this kind of thing could impact most boyfriend-girlfriend relationships. “Oh, right. I get what you’re saying. Yes, I suppose that I do care if you prefer men or women. Being a man.”
Nancy blinked. “This relationship is going to take some getting used to.”
“Vampires are bisexual by nature,” Gerald said, shuffling a bit in his body bag. “I mean, blood is sex and sex is blood. Still, I have a general preference in the purely aesthetic sense. You see, some people are just naturally—”
“Back to what we’re doing about Cassie,” I replied. “We need to decide whether this secret entrance is the best way to proceed.”
“I think it is,” Nancy said. “However, we need to have an additional plan should it fail.”
“Bark?” Cujo asked.
“Yeah,” I looked back at Gerald. “We have an hour’s time left, Gerald. Do you think you could make a distraction for us?”
“No,” Gerald said.
I explained my plan, adding detailed instructions for how to assemble the bomb’s remaining components.
“Hell no!” Gerald said.
“Your chances of blowing yourself up are quite minimal,” I replied.
“I like it,” Nancy said, smiling. “Best of all if she doesn’t betray us, it won’t have any drawbacks.”
“So, if I’m horribly murdered by slashers, will you rescue me?” Gerald asked.
“No, because you’ll be dead,” I replied.
“Fair enough,” Gerald asked, sounding defeated. He shuffled a bit in his body bag, and I imagined him adopting a theatrical pose. “I suppose I must atone for the horrible sins that I have committed as a vampire. The blood that I have spilled has been a dark communion for the soldiers and killers of this evil cult. It has made them strong—”
“Stop talking,” Nancy said, shaking her head. “Just be prepared to leave when we go into the tunnel.”
“Assuming there’s not enough sunlight to kill me,” Gerald replied.
“Assuming,” Nancy said, smiling. “But I’m not worried. You’re already dead after all.”
“Funny,” Gerald said.
“I don’t think she’s kidding,” I said.
Cassie arrived moments later, followed by Carrie. The sliding door of the church van opened and the pair of them looked in. The pair of them looked quite happy and seemed to be getting along fine, which unsettled me. I wanted to warn my sister about Cassie’s mind-control, but I wasn’t sure how I would go about doing so.
“We’ve found the entrance,” Carrie said. “It took a bit of jiggling, but we got it open.”
“Are you sure the survivors are located underground?” I asked, remembering the heavy guard of the third floor.
“Yes,” Cassie said. “They’re kept in a kind of dungeon underneath the compound. Not the fun kind either.”
“There’s a fun kind?” I asked, confused.
“Well, for the torturer,” Cassie said.
“That’s true,” I admitted.
Nancy felt her face. “I swear, it’s like I’m travelling with cartoon characters.”
“If so, I want to be the Coyote,” Carrie said. “He’s just doing what’s natural to him. Really, the Road Runner should accept his natural place as a prey animal. The same for Sylvester the Cat, but I blame his owner for clearly not feeding him enough.”
“The tunnel is clear from any monitoring devices and is a straight shot to the dungeon,” Cassie replied. “You’ll have to deal with security there.”
“By which you mean kill them,” Carrie said.
“Yes,” Cassie said. “Does that bother you?”
Carrie burst out laughing. “You’re funny.”
I looked to her. “What will happen to you after the escape? Will you come with us?”
Cassie put on a fake self-sacrificing smile. “No, when the ritual is disrupted then my father and uncle will be at their most vulnerable.”
“I thought you wanted us to take them down,” I replied.
“Oh yes, I do.” Cassie recovered quickly. “It’ll just be easier after I disrupt their business and security.”
“How will you get in contact with us?” I asked.
Nancy elbowed me. I was questioning her ill-thought out plan a little too much. The problem was it could be an ill-thought plan because she was planning to betray us and never intended to seek us out to kill her enemies. It could also be that it was ill-thought out because she hadn’t thought it out in her concern for her friends.
“I’ll figure something out,” Cassie said. “My sorority sisters’ lives are what’s important right now
.”
I didn’t believe a word that came out of her mouth. However, I just nodded. “I understand. Thank you for your self-sacrifice, Cassie.”
Cassie smiled. “I think I’ll go by Cassandra after this is done. It sounds more respectable.”
“Of course,” I said.
“Is it true you have a copy of the Necronomicon in your possession?” Cassie asked, her voice dry but all too interested.
I looked at Carrie. “I dunno, do we?”
Carrie grimaced. “I may have let it slip.”
“That might prove a very valuable asset,” Cassie said, barely able to disguise her hunger. “Something that could help us save everyone here.”
“I’m afraid it’s been well-hidden,” I replied, lying. The Necronomicon was among our few remaining possessions in the back of the church van. It wasn’t the best place to store it, but if we let it fall out of our possession, it was very likely to escape and seek out new owners. Honestly, it was impressive that it had waited the entire time we’d been locked up in the asylum. I blamed that on our grandfather’s influence, but I wasn’t sure he was feeling charitable since we hadn’t yet taken up his hobby of offering sacrifices to evil gods.
Haven’t you? The Spirit of the Hunt asked. I must have missed that.
You’ve been noticeably quiet during all of this, I replied.
The anticipation in a hunt is the best part, the Spirit of the Hunt. The trick is to savor every little moment until the final climax. It’s like sex, really.
I wouldn’t know, I replied.
The Spirit of the Hunt gave a mocking chuckle and I wondered if she might have been involved in setting me up with Nancy. I immediately dismissed that thought. There was something about the Spirit of the Hunt that made me feel that she and her ilk were not only unable to appreciate love, but incapable of expressing it.
I wasn’t interested in the physical part, curious at best, but the thought of connecting emotionally with a human being was something that teased my mind with possibilities. Romance had always been one of the great mysteries of life to me, something that motivated large portions of humanity and inspired a good chunk of its media, but never seemed to be done right. The thought of devoting myself to someone else was enticing to me. I wondered if Nancy could be that person and whether she’d let me.
Maybe you should focus on us not getting killed first, Will, Carrie spoke in my brain. Because if that compound is full of world-class demigod slashers, we’re boned.
Stay out of my mind, sis, I replied.
You’re already been in my mind, Carrie said. I had some wild and crazy dreams while you were inside there. Did you steal my Christmas briefcase?
No, I lied.
Cassie kept her unnatural smile and shrugged. Well, that’s unfortunate. Maybe I’ll look after this is done.
Of course, I said, perfectly willing to kill to protect the book’s secrets from falling into her hands.
I’d considered turning to the eldritch book in order to try to work against the Fraternity. My grandfather had spoken of ways to summon demons, hordes of the dead, and evil gods in addition to banishing them. He’d spent his entire life trying to send them all home or sealing up the holes in the world with the sacrifice of innocents. Somehow, it felt like a betrayal resorting to the same black magic that he’d opposed. Besides, I had no experience using dark sorcery and there was one rule I’d learned from him that far too many magicians never learned before it was too late: never summon up something you cannot put down.
“Then let’s get going, shall we?” Cassie said, gesturing to the open hatch under the billboard. “Those girls won’t rescue themselves after all.”
“It depends on whether they let my sister near anything sharp,” Nancy said, putting on her own false smile. “They might be able to get out on their own then and we’ll look like a bunch of chumps when we come across all the Fraternity’s dead bodies.”
“That would be both awesome as well as extremely disappointing,” Carrie said, frowning. “Oh, Cassie, we may need to rename you. I think our names are too similar for the movie adaptation. Would you mind being renamed Judith or Evil-lyn? I mean Evelyn?”
“Yes, yes I would,” Cassie said, narrowing her eyes. There was just the slightest hint of menace to her voice and I could tell my sister’s peculiar charms were already starting to wear on her patience.
“Too bad. Look after Cujo, Gerald,” Carrie said, making finger guns that he couldn’t see. “If anything happens to him, I will hunt you down and kill you.”
“Gotcha,” Gerald said, sounding terrified.
“He’s mine,” Carrie explained.
“Ah,” Cassie said. “It’s good you keep him gift wrapped until you need him.”
Carrie nodded vigorously.
Nancy and I exchanged a glance. It was into the lion’s den now and there was no turning back.
Chapter Twenty
“Thank you for the lighter, Nancy,” I said, holding it in front of me as I descended the concrete stairs leading down from the hatch that we’d forced open. It was proving to be more of a journey than I’d expected as we’d traveled down something like ten stories rather than the half-dozen at most I’d expected. I was carrying a rifle on my back via leather harness and had a knife stuck in my pocket protector.
Nancy was the best armed. She had Wilbur’s M16 mounted on a similar harness to mine. She had a machete tied to her belt while holding her flashlight. Carrie was carrying a hockey stick she’d modified with barbed wire, a knife, and razors. Her flashlight was affixed to the side. She was also wearing a hot pink backpack that looked adorable with her winter wear. Cassie had chosen to forego any armaments and was just holding a flashlight. Not exactly the best weapons we could be carrying but it was the best we could manage.
“I don’t know why you want one,” Nancy said, following me. “All of us have a flashlight.”
“Including Benedict Anne-old,” Carrie said, pausing. “Okay, that’s a terrible name for you, Cassie. I’ll work harder.”
“I’m just more comfortable with a lighter,” I said, frowning as we reached the bottom of the stairs. “Not that we apparently need it.”
Stretching out in front of us was an enormous glowing underground lake that had a single dirt path leading through the center of it. The water was bioluminescent, and the walls were covered in a glowing fungus. It was a natural cave rather than an artificial construction and I wasn’t sure how this sort of geological formation could exist in Kansas. Then I remembered H.P. Lovecraft’s “The Mound” that said the state was riddled with underground passages, tunnels, and even civilizations of cannibal Morlock-esque creatures. Grandpa Jeremiah had been a friend of the real H.P. Lovecraft, the one my hospital prison had been named after, and told the author all about the supernatural. Was this another of the secrets he’d told him?
“What the hell is this?” Nancy asked, surveying the sight.
“A twist,” I said, putting away my lighter. I then took out my knife. The rifle would have been a better weapon, but something felt more appropriate about the knife. Maybe my sister was correct that slashers, well, had to slash.
“The compound was constructed here to take advantage of the natural wellsprings of magic,” Cassie said, putting away her flashlight. “Before humanity darkened the Earth with its presence, the tunnels below were populated by the dark elves. Creatures that wielded eldritch magics and were far superior in many ways to mere mortals.”
“Super,” Carrie said, clutching her hockey stick tightly. “We’ve gone from slasher movie to J.R.R. Tolkien. Are we going to encounter a Balrog? Because if we’re going to encounter a Balrog then I’m out. Sorry, Nancy, but your friends will have to die horribly. I’m allergic to flaming death demons and armies of goblins.”
“There are no goblins down here,” Nancy said.
“Are you sure?” Carrie asked, looking around. “Because it looks like there could be goblins down here.”
“It does have
a certain magical fantasy kingdom aesthetic,” I admitted.
Had we stumbled onto some ancient and accursed occult site? What sort of evil lurked here just beyond the surface of the lake?
“You talk funny when you’re nervous, Will,” Carrie said. “Never change.”
“I’m pretty sure there are no goblins down here or Balrogs. Maybe a claw machine or one of those stupid ‘engrave a penny’ things.” Nancy reached down and picked up a rusted metal sign that said, MANCUSO CAVES: MAGICAL MYSTERY TOUR OF FUN. It was sitting next to a bunch of badly yellowed color brochures from a rusted metal wire stand.
“Oh,” Carrie said, frowning. “Well that sucks. I was hoping for accursed occult location and we’re at a roadside tourist trap.”
“Sorry,” Cassie chuckled, an evil smile on her face.
“What’s with the build up?” I asked.
“Never let the truth get in the way of a good story,” Cassie said. “This place was the home of the ’77 child murders where a mad miner went on a killing spree of tourists. He was influenced by all the Native ghosts from the tribe that was driven here by the US Calvary. They starved here with the fungus driving them mad before they died.”
“It says here that it was founded in 1984 and was originally a quarry,” Nancy said, reading the brochure. “The bioluminesce and fungus were imported in.”
Cassie shrugged. “Like I said. The truth is that it was a failed attempt at building a tourist attraction. Turned out to have been a tax write-off for my father and the Mines of Mystery went out of business after a few years only to be repurposed. Not exactly the story of legend.”
“I dunno, William would probably be fascinated by how much money they saved,” Carrie replied.
“You’d be correct,” I replied.
Nancy shook her head. “I still don’t know why they chose to build the compound here. I mean, was it just the proximity to Wounded Buffalo?”
“It was where the Fraternity was founded,” I said. “I don’t know why it was done here of all places but why not on top of an artificial cave is perhaps a better question.”
