Pages 6-10

Scarlett gave up, brought her arm in, fell back, and hugged both knees tight to her chest.  “Yes.  No.  I, I.  I don’t know,” she stuck her head between her bruised knees and cried.

“Do not worry, Miss Walker,” he said, chin held high while Marvin reached under to straighten his tie.  “We will fix you up to be as good as new.”  Marvin held open a white lab coat, The Doctor slipped his arms in and with yet more assistance, Marvin buttoned it up.

Scarlett lifted her head and rested her chin on her knees, “What about her?” she wiggled a finger at Tweek.

“She is still alive, for now.”

“For now?” Scarlett tilted her head letting blood run away from her eyes.

“Yes, Miss Walker.  There were…  Complications with her revival procedure.  She turned feral, you see, and we cannot have ferals disrupting the peace.  So, we sedated her.”  The Doctor looked to his right where Marvin would bend over to pick up the pen, bang his head off the bars, stand up, bend over again, bang his head, and repeat.

“You sedated her?”

“Yes,” he replied impatiently.  He slapped Marvin on the up, “Would you stop that you dolt.”

Marvin stood tall, held the pen up in front of The Doctor and rubbed the back of his head.  Surely, if the moron had a mouth to smile from, he would be smiling.  The Doctor snatched the pen out of Marvin’s hand and inspected it.  He found a small scratch where it had contacted the floor, and he frowned in Marvin’s general direction.

“Nothing out of the ordinary, Miss Walker.  Experiments go feral from time to time.  Now, come closer, allow me to patch you up.”

Scarlett struggled to her feet and stumbled over to The Doctor.  She could hardly see-through blood-soaked eyes and matted hair.  She stabilized herself by bracing the bars of her cage and could barely make out the image of the old man.  He slipped a tiny monocle out of his left breast pocket, placed it gently on his left eye and it expanded across his wrinkled face, illuminating his eyes with a green light.

The Doctor slid his finger along the silver pen, once, twice, three times until a needle and thread appeared in his glasses.  He tapped the bar in front of him and it rang, echoing throughout the hall.  “Come a little closer please.”

Scarlett pressed her face against the bars.

“Very good,” he said, then held the pen three inches from her forehead.  A green light traced her wound, moved back and forth, slowly healing her.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“I am The Doctor,” he replied, focused on the task at hand.

“The, Good, Doctor,” Marvin said.  His upper body spun in a full circle, then he stuck a needle in Scarlett’s neck.

“Ouch!”  She pulled back and grabbed her neck.  “Fuck.  What the hell was that?”

The Doctor lowered the pen, “Orphan Serum,” he said.  “It will prevent further illness.  Now if you would come closer, I haven’t finished patching you up.”

Scarlett stuck her face back into the bars.  “So, you say you’re the Doctor, huh.”

“That I am.  Stay still please.”

“Tell me good Doctor,” she rubbed her neck, “is it normal for a doctor to keep his patients locked up in cages?”

“All finished,” he said.  He removed his monocle, slid it back into his left breast pocket, then padded it with his hand gently.  “Look around you, Miss Walker,” he pointed down the hall.  “You are not a patient; you are a prisoner.”

She stepped back from the bars, still dizzy.  Looking around the room it began to expand and contract.  There had to be at least a hundred holding cells with countless others locked up.  “Prisoner,” she said, still rubbing her neck, “for what crime?”

“Many, Miss Walker, many.”

Scarlett stumbled back a step, then fell to one knee.  Disoriented and confused, she looked to The Doctor, vision blurred, but she could still make out the image of him walking away, white lab coat flowing like a cape, and Marvin hot on his heals.

“Wha, what did you,” she stumbled again, “what did you do to me?” she cried.

“All in due time, Miss Walker, all in due time.” He laughed, and it carried, echoing, bouncing off walls, surrounding Scarlett, waking up prisoners throughout the hall.

Scarlett, now on all fours, crawled over to Ashley’s cell.  She called out to her, “Ashley, wake up, Ashley!”

Ashley rose, a marionette being lifted from her stomach by invisible strings.  Arms dangling, and her red hair concealing her face.  Head jerked back and forth, she turned, the tops of her feet dragging on the floor.

Scarlett looked on from her knees, veins pulsating, ears ringing, vision, still a mess.  Sometimes there was one, sometimes Ashley split into three.  “Ashley?” Scarlett squeaked.

Ashley’s head twitched, and her left ear bounced off her shoulder rapidly.  She shot her head back, a black bile dripped from her purple mouth, and she lunged hard into the bars knocking Scarlett back to the other side of her cell.  Clicking, followed by a sick moaning and groaning filled the air.

Scarlett’s eyes widened watching Ashley turn into this creature.  Its arms and legs flailing about trying to grab at her.  It paused, opened its mouth, and let its grotesque tongue drop to the floor.  The tongue rolled out towards Scarlett, and began a slimy climb between her legs, up her stomach, between her breasts, and when it reached her neck, the creature moaned.  Scarlett shut her eyes tight, trembling in absolute terror.

Screaming bats poured from the mouth of the monster called Tweek.  The swarm of flying vermin engulfed the hall, blocking out the light.  They bit, clawed, and tore the skin off of the other prisoners faces.  Agonizing cries rang throughout hell, fueling a deeper frenzy from the bats.  They began suicide bombing, whistling loud before crashing, denting walls, and smashing craters in the tile floor.  The room shook violently with each kamikaze strike.

The tongue of Tweek wrapped around Scarlett’s neck and wiggled its way up her cheek.

Scarlett screamed and protested, to no avail, so she began sobbing.  Wet with tears, she began squirming, choking, struggling to find air.  Tugging hard at the monsters burning tongue, its acidic saliva, lustful, leeched on to her sweat and blood.  Tweek moaned, feeling great pleasure from Scarlett’s distress.  She turned blue and tugged harder at the monster, leaving bloody scratches on her neck.  Each pull gave Tweak’s grip more strength.  The tongue penetrated through Scarlett’s cheekbone, her eyes protruding from their sockets.  Then, the tongue wiggled its way into her mouth through the gaunt, and gave Scarlett a demonic French kiss.

The Doctor hovered over two blue robots, Marvin at his side.  Together they panned through live feeds of the prisoners.  They went from one feed to the next until they came across Scarlett, alone in her cell, squirming, suffocating, losing her mind.

“Stop!” he shouted slamming his hand down on the table.  “Go back.  Yes, that one,” The Doctor watched her dumbfounded.  “Marvin.  Which vail did you give her?”

Marvin opened his chest, sifted through junk, and pulled out a small glass vail with a metallic liquid that read, O.P.X. beta.

“That’s the wrong one, you imbecile.”

A rickety old shuttle wobbled its way towards the Nexus with its docking arm fully extended.  Aboard the shuttle, twenty-four of the wealthiest individuals from Tartarus to fill all twenty-four passenger seats.  Four not so sentient robots acted as escorts, two terrible pilots, and two looking after the “guests”, unphased by the turbulence.  The robots had been programmed by one they call Mother to track down and deliver these men and women to The Doctor.  Each of the four robots, lead by a matte black robot with a pink stripe painted across its forehead, scoured every nook and cranny of Tartarus, shoved each “guest” into a sack and tossed them onto the shuttle kicking and screaming.

Now, scared for their lives, with sweaty palms, for the shaking of the shuttle was unsettling.  They failed to speak out, distracted by the two robots in the back fighting over a game of rock, paper, scissors.  The silver bot shoved the black bot with the pink stripe, and the pink stripe shoved the silver bot back, and the shuttle rocked back and forth.

A skinny man sitting in the center couldn’t handle the rocking any longer, nor could he hold down the yellow-green vomit he spewed into the air.  The droplets pooled together and floated above the other passengers, drawing cowers and shrieks as they ducked under.  Changing shape as it went, another man puked, and another, adding to the disgusting blob.  The robots stopped their bickering and tilted their heads at the fleshling display.

The shuttle missed its mark and came to an abrupt halt due to the nonsense inside, and it banged against the Nexus.  The “guests” jerked in their seats, and the blob altered course.  A pretty blue eyed, blonde haired girl began sobbing as the vomit wrecking ball shape shifted its way towards her.

Work in progress…

Donate to support my work 🙂

Choose an amount


Or enter a custom amount


You can also support my work by donating on Your contribution is appreciated.


One response to “Pages 6-10”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: