by Amy Cross
"I hope you change your mind," he replies, "but if you don't, you know what'll happen. This is my gaff, Katie, and I've learned to have a bit of control over it, yeah? You were perfectly willing to accept my help the other day, so why not be a peach and try to be sensible? I genuinely like you, and I'd be sorry to see you go up in smoke." He heads to the door, before stopping and glancing back at me. "Mr. Mulcahy's coming back tomorrow," he adds, "and he's very keen to get his hands on you. I guess we'll just have to treat that as a bit of a deadline, won't we? He's coming in the morning, so if you haven't decided by then, or if you've stupidly decided to turn the whole thing down, I guess we both know what'll happen, don't we?"
I want to tell him to go to hell, but I can still feel the pain from earlier still flickering in my body.
"Now if you'll excuse me," he adds with a smile, "I need to head down the coach station and keep an eye out for any more young women who look like they're a bit lost as they arrive in the big city. I'm sure I'll find someone who's glad of some help. Someone grateful."
Once he's gone, I stand alone in the kitchen and listen to the sound of Izzy and Gemma talking upstairs. Until that conversation with Simeon, I was convinced that I'd be able to find a way out of this place, but now I'm starting to think that I might be stuck here after all. Although things would be different if Izzy was willing to help me, it's clear that I can't rely on her support. Simeon seems to have the whole situation sewn up tight, and my only choice appears to be to accept my fate here, or to burn in hell for the rest of eternity.
Chapter Six
Rachel
"Penny for them?"
At first, I don't even notice that there's anyone standing next to me. I've spent the past few hours sitting on the ground, staring at the spot where I buried my head. This whole situation has become so insanely perverse, I feel as if my mind has been completely fried, and I can't even muster the strength to call Alexander and see if he's got any news about the IP address. Katie's probably fine, and she's almost certainly better off without me; I've never been much of a sister, and I'd probably just draw her into my mess. I'd rather she remembered me as someone to look up to, rather than as a sex worker who ended up being murdered and dumped in the river.
"Okay, how about two pennies?"
Looking up, I see a familiar figure standing nearby, but it takes me a moment to remember where I've seen him before.
"Robinson," he says with a smile. "We met earlier at the dam. I was making a bucket out of a polystyrene cup, and you were telling me about the fact that you're dead, and we kind of got chatting for a while."
"How did you find me?" I ask, getting to my feet.
"You might not like this," he continues, "but after our initial meeting, I had you tracked everywhere you went. It was all very subtle, of course, but one of my colleagues watched you returning to Alexander Medion's penthouse suite, and then followed you here." He looks down at the spot of disturbed soil where I buried my old head. "Not many people get to do something like this," he says after a moment. "I imagine it must have had quite an impact on you."
There's nothing I can say in response. Hell, I don't think I can possibly put things into words right now.
"I might want to disinter it at some point," he continues, "just to -"
"No," I say firmly.
"No?"
"No. Just let it be."
He pauses. "Okay," he says after a moment. "I guess I can respect that."
"Who are you?" I ask, feeling too tired to run but still determined not to let myself get suckered into anything.
"My name is Robinson," he says. "Just Robinson. I work for the government. Well, no, that's not quite true. I work with the government... No, that's not quite true either." He pauses. "They tolerate me. How's that? I head up a small team who keep tabs on things that everyone else would prefer to ignore. I was going to get in touch once all this fuss with the dam is over, but then I got to thinking about coincidences. Do you believe in coincidences, Rachel?"
"I guess," I reply, "but why -"
"So do I," he says, interrupting me, "but not always, and in this case, I think we need to have a little chat. After all, you're quite an unusual lady." Stepping toward me, he reaches out and puts two fingers on the side of my neck. "You don't have a pulse," he mutters, before checking again down at my wrist, "and you're definitely dead. You even left behind a body each time you died -"
"Only the first time," I tell him. "Every other time, I kind of healed myself." Reaching up to my neck, I realize that he's right: my pulse has disappeared. "This is where my body was dumped the first time."
He pauses. "No," he says eventually. "That's not true at all. Besides, this one..." He looks down at the spot where my head is buried. "This wasn't the first time you died."
"It was," I reply. "Alexander Medion -"
"Alexander Medion is a very rich man," he continues, "and a very messed up man, but he's not a very reliable witness. He might have assumed that he was the first person to kill you, but I promise you that this was not the case. You were dead already. In fact, you've been dead for a few years. I wouldn't be surprised if you died shortly after you arrived in London, and ever since then you've been drifting along, probably unaware of the reason why you feel so disconnected to the rest of the world."
"But -"
"Medion has been looking for information on an IP address," he adds, interrupting me yet again. "He's been making a few phone calls, so I nipped in and did some digging. It turns out, that IP address is registered to a small coffee shop in the East End."
"You need to show me," I reply. "My sister -"
"Your sister won't be at the coffee shop," he continues. "That's where the IP address is registered, but the signal spreads to a few of the surrounding buildings and like a bunch of lemons, the owners haven't secured it very well." Reaching into his pocket, he pulls out a piece of paper and shows me a print-out of a man's face. "This is Simeon Wilde," he explains, "and I think you've met him before."
"Simeon?" I reply, staring at the picture. "No, but -" Before I can finish, I'm struck by a sudden moment of realization. The face staring out from the piece of paper looks familiar, but I'm not sure where I've seen it before. "He's..." I start to say, but again I feel as if something's drawing me back into the past and disturbing some memories I thought were long gone. "Who is he?" I ask eventually. "What's he doing with my sister?"
"The same thing he did to you," Robinson replies, folding the piece of paper back up. "It was a few years ago, but you spent time with Simeon Wilde. You even lived with him for a period, although I'm not sure how long." He pauses again. "What do you remember of your early months in London?"
"Not much," I reply, my mind racing as I try to think back. "It's kind of a blur."
"Of course it," he continues. "Your mind is slowly degrading. Every time you die, a copy survives, but each copy suffers a little loss of detail. I'm convinced that you were one of the many women, some of them just girls, who passed through Simeon Wilde's nasty little operation. You probably spent a few months there, pressed into service for his customers, and I can only assume that you proved yourself to be particularly valuable, to the point that he decided to sell you on."
"No," I say, taking a step back. "I don't..." I want to tell him that he's wrong, but the truth is, I think I'm starting to remember something of my first few days in London. I was lost and alone, and then a man offered to help me. He took me back to a house, and...
"You're remembering, aren't you?" Robinson asks.
I nod slowly, unable to stop thinking of Simeon's grinning face. It's hard to believe that somehow I ever forgot him, but at the same time, my mind seems to be full of holes these days. Almost without noticing, I've been trying to plug the gaps and work around the voids that have been opening up in my memories, but I always assumed that I was just reacting to the things that happened to me when I was younger. Now, however, it's clear that there's something else wrong with my mind.
"I've been keeping tabs on this guy for a while," Robinson continues. "I knew he was dangerous, and I was planning to do something about him, but then this situation with the dam and the river reared its ugly head, and I got sidetracked. Still, I'm starting to think that there might be a connection."
"With the river?" I ask.
"Big events have echoes," he replies, "and those echoes can go both ways, into the past as well as the future. There's been increased paranormal activity associated with the river for a couple of years now, and I'm convinced that it was all in anticipation of this disaster with the dam. The ghosts are getting nervous, and when they get nervous, I get nervous. It's also linked to whatever's happening to you."
"Why can't I die?" I ask.
"You died a long time ago," he continues. "You just didn't realize."
"And my sister?" I reply. "I have to help her."
"It might be too late," he continues, "but I can try to help. If she hasn't been there for too long, it might be possible to help her, although I'm pretty sure that Simeon moves fast. However, I'm also going to need you to give me something in return."
"If you can save my sister," I tell him, "I'll give you anything. Even my life. Whatever you want, just take it, but please, help me get her out of there."
"I don't want to take your life," he replies. "Not intentionally, anyway. However, I do need to run a little experiment on you, and I'd be lying if I said there wasn't some danger involved. The paranormal world has rules, but sometimes it can take a while to understand them, and I'm hoping you can give me a head-start. Your sister might be able to help as well. In fact, I've got a friend who happens to have a couple of things in common with you."
"Such as?"
"For one thing," he continues, "she's dead, and for another, she has a score to settle with Simeon Wilde."
Chapter Seven
Katie
"Okay," Izzy says, keeping her voice down in case anyone hears us, "you've got a deal."
I stop and turn to her. She has a kind of desperate look in her eyes, as if her earlier confidence has melted away, and for a moment she barely even seems like herself.
"What kind of deal?" I ask, standing in the doorway. "What do -"
"I've just been talking to that Gemma kid," she continues, "and it's doing my head in. I mean, it's totally driving me crazy. She's talking about the future and all these dreams she has, of being a fashion designer or an illustrator or something like that, and I can't take it." She pauses. "I'm not saying that you and I can ever get out of this place, but I don't wanna help Simeon murder someone else, so I'm in. We'll get her out of here."
"And then what?" I ask, worried that this might be some kind of trap.
"And then she'll probably get picked up by some other lowlife," she replies, "but at least we'll have done our bit, yeah? We'll deal with Simeon when the time comes, but right now we need to get moving. I don't wanna have to hold her down while Simeon drowns her, or cuts her throat, or whatever else that sadistic bastard decides to do this time, so are you still up for this or are you chickening out?"
"Where is she?" I ask, glancing over at the mattresses and seeing that they're empty.
"She's down in the kitchen with Simeon," she continues. "They're just chatting shit, you know? The way he did with you when you first arrived, the way he did with me, the way he did with all of us. We need to wait until he's left her alone for a few minutes, and then we just need to bundle her out the door."
"Sure," I reply, "but how are we gonna distract him?"
"I've been thinking about that," she replies, "and I think you might have a better shot than me. I mean, hell, he knows all the tricks I've got up my sleeve, but you're something a little different. If you can lure him out of the kitchen, I'll get the girl into the hallway. I can show her my real face, creep her out that way, and then once she's gone..." She pauses. "Well, once she's gone, Simeon's gonna hit the roof and we're gonna be in some serious shit, but at least we'll know we did the right thing. Even if we burn forever, we'll have saved someone."
"I don't want to burn," I tell her. "I want to get the hell out of here."
"What, are you scared now?" she asks. "I told you before, honey, there's no way out. It's either this way, or no way. You've gotta ask yourself if you'd rather spend the next few decades losing your mind, or strike fast and risk everything in order to do the right thing. Trust me, every time one of Simeon's clients pushes us too far, we lose a little more of our soul." She checks over her shoulder, as if she's convinced that Simeon or one of the other ghosts might hear us. "Besides," she adds, turning back to me, "I've got an idea about how we can take Simeon with us if we end up burning."
Before I can reply, I hear someone knocking on the door downstairs.
"We can't do it while there's a customer here," Izzy continues. "The timing sucks, but we're gonna have to wait."
Hearing voices in the room below us, I wait for a moment, keenly aware that Simeon is likely to bring the customer upstairs to meet one of the girls. Sure enough, a few moments later there's the sound of footsteps on the stairs, and finally Simeon appears in the doorway.
"Having a cozy chat, girls?" he asks.
"I was just trying to persuade Katie to see things our way," Izzy replies, quickly slipping back into the role of his willing assistant. "She's being rather stubborn, but I think I can see the first few cracks starting to appear."
"That's good news," he replies. "For a moment, I was worried that the pair of you were conspiring against me."
I glance over at Izzy, but she has a great poker face and merely grins at me.
"I've got some good news," Simeon continues, grinning at me. "I've been rethinking our little chat earlier, Katie, and I've come to the conclusion that you might be a cut above the average girl, in which case, I'm thinking it'd be a damn shame for you to sit around in this place for all eternity."
"So you're going to let me go?" I ask dubiously.
"I have the power to free you from the house," he replies, "and yes, that's exactly what I'm thinking of doing. Provided you're willing to accept a little offer that I've put together with one of my most esteemed colleagues."
"Hang on," Izzy says, interrupting him. "I've been working here for years. Why haven't I been offered any deals?"
"Katie's special," he replies, keeping his eyes fixed on me.
"I'm special!" she says firmly.
"Katie's more special," he continues. "When I called my colleague and told her about you, Katie, she was very keen to come and meet you in person. She's got a great eye for the girls, and I think she'll know exactly what to do with you. The other good news, as far as you're concerned, is that if you accept this deal, you'll never have to see my happy mug again. Wouldn't that be fucking terrific, eh?"
"I don't -"
"You can't let her go," Izzy says firmly, as if she's starting to panic. "This is bullshit! She was just trying to get me to team up with her so we could get that new girl out of here!"
"Bitch!" I shout, stunned that she's selling me out so easily.
"Shut up," Simeon says, turning to Izzy. "Do you know how fucking tired I am of hearing your voice? For your fucking information, I already snapped Gemma's neck like a twig. She hadn't been here long, but hopefully her ghost'll still stick."
"I want out," Izzy replies. "If you can let Katie go, you can let me go too!"
"Fine," Simeon says with a smile, "but not in quite the same way."
"What does -" Izzy starts to say, before suddenly flames burst from her legs and quickly start spreading up her body. "No!" she screams, stumbling forward but quickly dropping onto her hands and knees as the inferno consumes her body entirely.
"Stop!" I shout, but it's too late.
The last I see of Izzy is her face screaming from the heart of the flames, with her flesh melting away to reveal her skull, before the fire engulfs her one final time and then flares out, leaving behind nothing but a faint burnt patch on the floorboards.
"Wh
at did you do to her?" I shout.
"Calm down, sweetheart," Simeon replies, as if he's amused by Izzy's plight. "The cow had it coming to her. I know full well she was up for giving you a hand, and I'm sure as hell not gonna stand for that kind of disloyalty. I'm sure she'll have plenty of time to think about her mistakes now that she's burning in hell for all eternity." Glancing back at the door, he seems to be waiting for someone to join us. "Would you like to meet Katie now?" he calls out.
Seconds later, an immaculately-dressed and strikingly beautiful older woman, maybe in her fifties or even sixties, steps into the room, eying me with an amused expression. The stink of cologne is overpowering even from a distance of several feet, and she seems completely nonplussed by the fact that Izzy was just burned to a crisp.
"You were right," the woman says, looking me up and down as if she's checking out a piece of meat, "she is a little special. I'll take her."
"Take me where?" I ask, trying not to panic.
"Katie," Simeon continues, "I want you to meet Carmella, the owner of quite possibly the finest massage parlor north of the river. Occasionally, she takes one of my girls and gives her a wonderful opportunity to progress in the industry." He turns to her. "Isn't that right, doll?"
"I happen to have a new opening," Carmella says, smiling as she steps closer. "One of my more reliable girls has left rather unexpectedly, so I need some fresh blood. Trust me, Katie. I'll give you a much better life than you could ever have experienced in this hellhole."
"Watch it," Simeon mutters.
"What do you say?" Carmella continues, reaching out and grabbing my face before turning my head to one side, as if she's still inspecting me. "Do you fancy a change of scenery, Katie? Would you like to come and work for me? I can assure you, you'll never get a better offer, and your horizons will be considerably broadened. I can make you forget all about this miserable little house; hell, I can make you feel alive again."
Epilogue
