Cultwick: The Wretched Dead

by J. Stone

  “Quite right,” he said. “Perhaps your recovery is nearly at an end.”

  “There are still a few things that are blurry, but I think I’m getting there,” she agreed.

  “That’s good to hear,” Owen said. “Our bed has been rather empty as of late. I must say, I am eager for you to return to your rightful place at my side.”

  “You know I’m yours, no matter which bed I lie in,” she replied. “But I believe the worst is over. I think it’s time I rejoin you.”

  A smile crept across Owen’s face, just as they arrived at the stables. He opened the wooden door for her, allowing her to enter the large barn-like building. Instantly, she was met with the smell of the beasts, their manure, dirt, and hay. The building was composed of a long dirt hallway lined with stalls to hold the animals. Several attendants were feeding or otherwise taking care of the horses, when Isabelle and Owen entered the stables.

  “You used to love coming here and riding before the accident,” Owen explained. “We have some time until the festivities tonight, so I thought you might appreciate a reminder.”

  “I’m not exactly dressed appropriately,” she replied. After a moment of wandering down the hall, she continued, “Did I have a favorite? I can’t remember that.”

  “I’m not sure,” he answered. “Have a look around and see if any of them strike your fancy.”

  She roamed the halls, while Owen and Deckland watched her from the entrance. The horses, she recalled, were not simply bred to race - they were fundamentally built for it. Owen paid scientists to augment, enhance, and construct the beasts at a genetic level for the specific purpose of winning races. It was a meta-competition of the racing game that breeders were forced to participate in if they wished to be successful.

  The first stall she came across had an image of thunderclouds with a bolt of lightning coming out of them etched into the wood of the door. Above that, the name ‘Thunder’ was engraved in the wood. The horse behind the half-door was a strangely iridescent silver color with white speckles littered across its hide. She approached closer to see that the animal’s chest was much larger and stronger than it should have been. As she peeked over the door, it whinnied angrily at her, causing her to take a step backward.

  “Not that one,” she said to herself.

  The next stall was adorned with the image of a domino comprised of two sixes, with the horse’s apt name, ‘Domino,’ inscribed in the wood. The horse itself was midnight-black and checkered with pale white spots. Getting closer, Isabelle noticed, much to her own surprise, that the horse didn’t have only four legs, but rather six. It stomped two of its front hooves in unison, as she stared on in awe. After staring at the beast for some time, she decided that was too strange for her, and she moved on to the next stall.

  Isabelle quickly passed another two horses in their stalls - one named Brownie and the other, Clyde. They didn’t immediately elicit any emotional response from her when she spotted them, so she decided to move on to the next one. It was there she saw an almost golden-colored horse with dark, black hair named, Lucky. Engraved into the wood of its door was the symbol of a four-leaf clover.

  She ignored the horse for a moment and narrowed her eyes, staring at the clover. She wasn’t sure why, but it meant something to her. Isabelle realized she must have been gaping at the door for some time, because Owen joined her at the stall.

  “This one?” he asked.

  “Um, yes,” she replied. “There’s something about this one.”

  “Harold,” Owen called down the stables. “Saddle up Lucky and Maverick. We’re going for a ride.”

  The young man nodded and started to get things ready for them. Isabelle, meanwhile, continued to stare and tried painfully to remember why this simple symbol was so important to her and what it could possibly have meant.

  “Clover…” she muttered under her breath.

  “What was that?” Owen asked.

  “Nothing,” she replied. “Just trying to remember something.”

  Isabelle felt something warm and wet in her ear and inspecting it with a finger; she felt a trickle of blood slowly pouring forth.

  Owen looked over to her, and seeing the blood, asked, “What happened?”

  Putting a palm to her forehead, she responded, “My head… it aches. Somethin’ is wrong. It’s outta place…”

  “Isabelle?” he asked suspiciously.

  “Who?” she replied. The pain in her head exploded violently, causing her to drop to her knees.

  “Konstantine!” Owen called down the stable hall. “We need to get her back to the doctor. She needs another adjustment.”

  Chapter 20. Fiona and the Experiment

  Fiona had not thought of returning to the Center for Empirical Research - not after everything she had been through during her time there. It was where Fiona and Newton were separated, but it was also where she was tortured and experimented on. The young boy had told her that she needed to go back there to meet him though, and she wanted to know more about him and his connection to her.

  She wasn’t eager to return, but she wouldn’t be doing so alone. One of the sisters she had acquired in Bedlam would be going with her. Gemma Boggs was once a wealthy and respectable aristocrat, married to an equally well-off man named Jake. Gemma did have a certain weakness, however, and it ultimately led to her incarceration in Bedlam.

  Though being with Jake brought her great pleasure, she soon found herself insatiable from him alone. She found an alternate source of satisfaction, when she was introduced to Marvin Tomasi, one of her husband’s social rivals. Marvin’s contentious relationship with Jake only made him more appealing to Gemma, and she was sure that he was equally excited by the prospect of being with his rival’s wife.

  Their fling, however, didn’t last long, and it didn’t end well. When Jake found out about Gemma’s affair, he didn’t strike her, yell, or react in any outward way. She knew that Jake could not publicly attack or harm Marvin in any way due to his social station, and she thought this made her safe from reprisal as well. She had been wrong. The following day, a pair of men came and took Gemma away to Bedlam Asylum. Her husband had admitted her for sexual addiction, but she knew it was just his form of revenge against her for what she had done.

  There she had stayed; her anger, frustration, and despair festering in her mind ever since. By the time Fiona had found and infected her, Gemma had grown used to being told what to do, when to do it, and how she should feel about it. Her emotion and mind felt so restricted by the walls, staff, and the drugs they injected her with that Gemma yearned to be free from their control. She wished that instead she could tell them what to do. Fiona’s blood had unlocked a hidden talent within Gemma to make others do her bidding with the utterance of a few simple words.

  Fiona felt this would be a helpful addition to her array of skilled sisters, and that it would help her with her goal of entry to the center. Together, Gemma and Fiona would assault the Center for Empirical Research and find the SC-1 subject. Then, she would be able to finally destroy the empire for good with his guidance.

  Gemma had always been noted as an extraordinarily beautiful woman, and she enjoyed showing off her body. The attire she had been given to wear in Bedlam Asylum had certainly not been to her taste, so following the infection, Gemma broke into an upscale fashion boutique and forced the staff to help her pick out a new ensemble. After she infected all the customers and staff, she spent hours trying on various dresses, skirts, blouses, corsets, and jewelry.

  Whatever modesty or discretion Gemma had before being admitted to Bedlam, while under Fiona’s control any such restrictions were suppressed. Ultimately, she picked out a pink and black corset that very nearly didn’t cover her breasts and showed much of her belly as well. Underneath, she wore nothing, choosing to expose most of her skin. Gemma had, however, chosen to wear silky black arm stockings that reached from her wrists nearly to her elbows. Around her waist was a tiny black mini skirt partially hiding garters that ra
n down to black stockings over her legs. For her shoes, she picked out an expensive pair of black heels that strapped around her ankles with shiny gold buckles. Staring at herself in the mirror, Gemma had never felt sexier and despite the control she was under, she never felt more free to be herself.

  After selecting the outfit, Gemma moved on to the jewelry section of the boutique. There, she perused the most elaborate collection of earrings, necklaces, rings, and bracelets in all of Cultwick. She selected a massive sapphire necklace that dangled down from a platinum chain and a ring with a matching sapphire gem encrusted in a slender band.

  Gemma then stood in front of a mirror, arranging her hair and makeup to fine-tune her appearance. She brushed out her wavy black hair and delicately painted on layers of pink blush, red lipstick, and black eyeliner, until she felt she was ready to once again face the world under Fiona’s guidance.

  Fiona and Gemma arrived at the steps of the center just before dusk to find several armed corpsmen guarding the entrance. As soon as they laid eyes on Fiona, the soldiers raised their guns and pointed them at her. Gemma, however, immediately reacted.

  “Stop,” she simply ordered in a sultry voice. “Lower your weapons.”

  Plainly visible was the confusion in the guards’ actions. They seemed baffled by her words, but slowly they adjusted themselves into a calm and submissive state and did as she instructed.

  “Such a neat trick!” Fiona commented, approaching the guards and circling around them playfully. “What else can you make them do?”

  “Take off your masks,” Gemma instructed the corpsmen.

  This time, they complied without any hesitation, and each of the men took off their helmets, dropping them on the concrete steps. Gemma sauntered toward the men, their eyes fixed on her, as she moved. She walked up to the closest corpsman, crossed her arms over his shoulders, behind his neck, and she pulled him to her. Closing her eyes, she slid her tongue into his mouth and allowed his to wrap around hers.

  “Ew! Gross!” Fiona commented, covering her eyes with her hands.

  When Gemma leaned back and opened her eyes again, his eyes had changed from a simple locked gaze to a pair of black abysses dotting his face. Watching the scene, Fiona cringed, but she felt the induction of another mind into her own. Gemma moved to the next and then the third, with Fiona sitting idly by and allowing her sister to create pets of her own.

  Once Gemma had finished acquiring the three corpsmen, all of them moved inside the center. The guards opened several doors that stood in their way, allowing Gemma and Fiona entry. Unlike the night Fiona had escaped, the center was bustling with activity. Scientists, business people, and various underlings moved through the corridors with purpose.

  The room slowly died to a hush, however, as each individual’s eyes found Fiona’s bloodied, disheveled, and wholly horrifying appearance. Fiona smiled at the stalled crowd and raised her mechanical hand, pointing it toward the group.

  Gemma nodded to Fiona, and instructed her corpsmen, “Devour them.”

  Immediately, the three men lunged toward the group of civilians and began clawing, slashing, and biting their way through the bodies. The previously deafening silence exploded into a roar of screaming, wailing, and the occasional sound of a bloody body slapping wetly against the white tile floors. Those not initially attacked attempted to flee, but they were quickly cut down and brought into the conflict.

  “Resistance…” Fiona shouted, “Is a waste of my time!”

  Fiona cackled madly, taking in the whole scene with great interest. After a couple minutes, everyone had either fled, died, or been converted into one of Fiona’s pets. With their inclusion, Fiona learned the full layout of the center, including where she could find SC-1.

  A small army of pets led Fiona and Gemma through the halls, converting anyone they found in their path. They made their way to a staircase leading down and guarded behind several security measures. Among the many new pets that Fiona had acquired, at least one of them had the correct gene sample to get her past the first lock, and stored in another mind was the correct combination to get her through the second.

  Fiona was the first to enter the room, which was where she found Silas Skinner waiting for her. He looked physically different - somehow bigger and more imposing, and he no longer had his arm in a sling. Instead, his hands were rough and tipped with sharp, pointed claws. His skin had turned to a sickly, pale white, and his eyes were dark and piercing.

  Behind Silas stood a scientist that she knew to be Dr. Candace Russell as well as the Council Leader, Desmond Crowley. Silas had been causing trouble for her ever since Pendulum Falls and she meant to rectify it. With a nod, she ordered one of her pets toward him. Silas smiled grotesquely and lunged toward the attacking member of her flock. He swept his hand horizontally across the man’s body, slicing his body in half. The upper torso did a brief somersault before landing with a splat next to his feet.

  “You don’t play fair!” she shouted toward Silas.

  He grinned at her, exposing long fanged teeth protruding from his lips. He then lifted his bloodied hand and licked the blood off his clawed fingers. “Time for round three,” he declared.

  Stomping her foot, she said, “You stop him, Gemma. I don’t want to play anymore!”

  Fiona moved in the opposite direction of where Silas stood, toward where she knew SC-1 was being held. Gemma, meanwhile, stayed behind with the horde of recently collected pets. Not wishing to waste any more bodies on Silas, Gemma attempted to command him like she had been able to do with the corpsmen.

  “Kneel to me,” she declared.

  Though he did momentarily seem to submit to her will, Silas defied and remained standing. He then began to move forward at a rapid pace. Gemma moved back, allowing several of the pets to move in her defense. They were similarly slaughtered, with Silas rending their flesh in great delight.

  “You’ll have to do better than that,” he spat at her.

  She focused her mind on his and ordered, “Submit to me!”

  His body physically convulsed, but he remained where he was. Gemma, alternatively, felt herself under a great deal of stress. It was as though something exploded in her brain, and she was forced to release the slight grip she had over his mind. A steady trail of blood poured from her nose, which she wiped away with her forearm.

  Fiona, meanwhile, arrived at the final door that led to SC-1. It required the input of yet another code, and despite the plethora of minds she had at her disposal, Fiona could not find one with the information she needed. She bit her lip softly, while she thought of how to proceed.

  She looked down at her mechanical hand and asked herself, “How about you, Mr. Squeezy?”

  Holding the hand, so that it somewhat resembled a mouth, she moved her thumb up and down, as she said in her best robot voice, “Beep! Boop! Affirmative!”

  She smashed her hand into the frame at the edge of the door, making a large hole. She repeated the act near the top of the doorframe and again at the bottom, loosening its place in the wall. Sufficiently unsecure, Fiona grabbed the edge of the door and yanked back.

  The door slowly budged out, prompting her to say, “Almost there, Mr. Squeezy! Keep pulling.”

  “Affirmative,” she replied to herself with her robot voice.

  With a final tug, the door was completely off its hinges, and Fiona wrenched it away from the wall and out of her way.

  “That’s some good work, Mr. Squeezy!” she declared to her fist, forming it again into a mouth.

  “Beep! Boop! Acknowledged!” her robot voice answered back.

  Fiona descended the stairs and then skipped down the short hall toward the cage at the end of the hall, where she found the exact young boy she had seen in the empress’ mind.

  “I know your name now,” she declared. “You’re Simon! It feels like we’re almost brother and sister, huh?”

  “If you like to think of it that way, I guess I can see it,” he replied. “We do share some similarities.
.. To be polite, I’ll go ahead and ask - What are you doing here?”

  “You said I would come to see you,” she explained. “I didn’t want you to be wrong.”

  “That’s very considerate of you,” he replied. “Yes, I knew you would come. It’s because of what she wants to happen that you needed to come here.”

  “And what’s that?” Fiona asked.

  “Hard to say,” Simon replied. “I hate to ruin things. I’ve seen how events unfold when I ruin them. Not overly fantastic for anyone involved. Instead, I’ll tell you what to do next.”

  “Oh?” she asked. “What’s next?”

  “She’s going to want you to go to the archives underneath the Anointed Temple,” he explained. “Personally, I think it’s a risky proposition, but it is her responsibility after all. Moreover, it all mostly works out this way. Oh, and just make sure everyone is on top of the garden afterward and you’ll have your chance.”

  “Who wants me to go there?” she asked. “The garden?”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about any of that,” Simon replied.

  “Why not?” Fiona demanded.

  “I don’t worry about anything,” he replied. “I know everything that happens. What’s to worry about? Anyway, you should be going. That Skinner guy has just about made his way through all your pets.”

  Fiona searched her mind and found that he was correct. The pets she had left with Gemma to take care of Silas had whittled down to less than half a dozen. Through Gemma’s eyes, Fiona saw Crowley order Silas to inject Gemma with a syringe Dr. Russell had given him. The contents of the needle were milky-white and sloshed around inside the glass vial making sudsy bubbles within.

  Silas pushed aside several of the pets, until he reached Gemma. The corpsman plunged the needle into her neck without hesitation, pressing down on the plunger. Close up, Fiona could see that Silas’ eyes were wild with ferocity. He backed away from Gemma, while she screamed in agony. Fiona could feel the pain as well; as could all the pets that Gemma had created. Each of them fell to the floor, squirming and flapping around.