3 Into His "Lair"
"We find the goat and give him down. It's the only way." an old man's voice rasps.
"There's reason here." a grown man's voice thooms from the same source.
"If we had a visitor... if we did, he could be our goat. We need a goat. To bear our guilt, our gender." a young hill billy voice mutters.
"A small piece of flesh between us and the blade." a feminine voice says.
"What in creation are you talkin' about?" the grown man asks.
"We give him other flesh and he s-s-spares ours." the young voice sputters.
"That's the idea. We feed him a goat and leave him alone." the feminine voice says reassuringly.
Her eyes widen as she approaches a crevasse and slips through it carefully to not knock over any canisters. When she makes it out from it she listens closely to the voices coming from one area.
"W-w-walk s-s-softer. He c-can't know we're up here." the young voice says worriedly and panicky.
"He won't come up here. We keep giving him other poor fuckers to cut up and we're fine." the feminine voice says irritatingly.
"The more you whine, the more attention you draw." the grown voice says in a deep and annoyed tone.
"I-I-I don't wanna get Gluskin's attention. He'll hurt us." the young voice whimpers.
"He'll hurt you. You'd make a pretty woman." the feminine voice mocks and laughs.
"I don't wanna become... I can't. I've seen what he d-does. But the th-things he does..." frightened the young voice stops in fear for a short silence.
"Gluskin's just a man, like any other." the feminine voice responds.
"Everybody, just quiet the fuck down for a spell." the grown voice demands.
A sound echos from beyond the glowing blue tarps. The light illuminates areas in blue from beyond wooden planked walls. She crouches near the planked walls just near a wall separating the inner passage leading past the blue lit area from her. She places down the glow stick to free her hand and make her go unnoticeable. Suddenly the familiar faded orange color appears and the man creeps quietly past cutting right from between the two walls. She notices it but then pauses and replays a familiar name she just heard that jogged her memory of a file she had read.
"I hear somethin', I swear." the grown voice says low yet audible.
"You hear things." the feminine voice scolds.
"The hell I hear things." the grown voice growls.
"Everybody quiet!" the old voice yells out.
"We have an interloper." the feminine voice slowly mutters.
"He's here! Inside the walls!" the grown man yells alerted.
"Rats in the walls! Kill the rats!" the young voice yells and wanders away.
He suddenly books it and she quickly follows now between the two walls leading to a tall edged wall. Just before she gets there she hears a drop and landing from the right of the corner she pauses at.
"Fuck! Where'd he go?!" the grown voice growls.
"I don't know." the feminine voice says low and suspiciously.
"We-we lost him." the young voice timidly states.
"You lost him, you useless fuck!" the feminine voice snaps.
"Shut up! Both of you!" the old man's voice demands rashly.
"We'll find him again." the grown man's voice says reassuringly.
"This is our sandbox." the young voice happily states.
"We'll find a way around. We know this ground and we don't mind huntin'." the old man voice states.
Her hands tremble but she climbs up stacked boxes, a shelving and sits up at the ledge for a while to make sure Dennis is cleared out. Her thoughts rethink the file she had read about the three to four personalities. The father, the younger son named Timmy, a no name female voice, and the grandfather who hardly talked.
"There he is! What do you think?" the feminine voice asks quickly.
"Oh, he'll do." the father deepens his voice.
"For once, we agree!" the feminine voice says astonished.
"Hm. Fish in a goddamn barrel." the grandfather mutters.
"Ha, ha! This idiot wants to die!" the feminine voice laughs.
"You wanna give him to Gluskin?" Timmy asks in a hurry.
"We give him to the Groom!" the grandfather yells.
"We have to give you to the thing below." the father's voice turns unemotional.
"A gift for the Groom." Timmy slowly says.
"Oh, Gluskin's gonna have fun with you, boy." the grandfather evilly groans.
She slowly drops down by holding tightly on each stable shelf. Once she places her feet on the floor she dashes toward a shorter ledged wall and hides behind it just after she sees Dennis coming from the far right of the higher up ledges where the fade orange patient clothed man heads up them toward the ceiling. Dennis stops at the bottom, lowers his clever and backs away toward the wall he came from.
"Pa!" Timmy yells out as if in trouble.
"Shut your cock-sucker, you miserable little shit! You're cowards and idiots, all of you." the grandfather thunders loud and wrathful.
There is a short silence as she watches the familiar face turn back looking down from the top of the corner area close to the ceiling. Waylon then heads right and drops down to a covered area which makes her ready herself to get over the last obstacle before getting towards the area where Dennis dares not go.
"I can't wait to watch the Groom skin his ass." the father chuckles deep.
"Here comes the bride. Here comes your bride, Mr. Gluskin." the feminine voice wisps the words.
"Fuckin' idiot. He delivered his own self to Gluskin's hell." the grandfather says mockingly.
She tenses and feels uneasy knowing the way out is to follow Waylon but to also go through a killer's layer. Recalling detailed information within the psychiatric files they showed Eddie's massive strength and knowledge of him killing women and mutilating them. She hears Dennis' footsteps fade quietly a bit then she rushes for the beginning of the tall blockade leading up to the angled ceiling corner.
"Oh we have another!" the feminine voice hisses and grabs the back of Susan's beanie along with her hair.
"Urghh, Dennis!" she grunts and kneels while arching her back backwards from atop the first ledge.
"He confuses us with someone else." the father's voice mutters from Dennis' body.
She tightens her leg muscles and leans further forward to grab a hold of the next higher ledge. The tense of her neck gives strength to have her smooth hair slip from the pinched fabric of her beanie and it slips away letting her hair fall to it's placement on her shoulders.
"A-a w-w-woman?!" Timmy slips out words before she scampers up toward the ceiling.
"What will the Groom do? He'll have nothing to change." the feminine voice sounding astonished.
"Leave it to him. We need to get far away from here before he changes something on us." the grandfather grumbles.
"This'll be interesting." the father's voice says low and a small snicker comes from him.
Her eyes calm as she peers over the edge into the darkness where she once was. Letting her hand reach to her coat pocket and grab one more glow stick she snaps it and throws it down to show that Dennis had retreated. All was silent and she felt along her pocket and count two glow sticks left. Her jaw tightens and she sits down. While scooting closer to the light source the silence that crawls from the dark stairway leaks it's way to her consciousness. The white railing making things look peaceful around the opening of the stairs gives Susan a calmness before she climbs down to the wooden floor. Her eyes pause at a white door ahead of her to her right. She quickly swings around toward the first step her eyes never leaving the door. A smile trembled on her lips reminding herself that Dennis dares not come near this area. Darkness soon engulfs her as she makes her way down to an open room with tables lined up with spaces apart.
"Sewing machines...?" her voice whispers while proceeding down an aisle of tables and feeling the strain of her eyes adjust to moonlight streaming in from two windows.
Her ears fix on an odd melody coming from the next room on a radio playing I Want A Girl by Harry Von Tilzer and William Dillon. Her footsteps criss-cross over each other slowly making them quieter and slow. The silhouette of a I.V. pole, a dextrose bag hanging from it, and a metal table and sink faucet comes to view.
"Why is there an I.V...." her hands begin to shake when she turns right past a fabric screen being attached to two wooden pillars one of which she regrets stepping past.
Susan's grey eyes stop as she slowly pulls her right hand over her mouth and nose. Her gaze could not look away from the horrid sight of a body being completely remade into the ending stage of the "childbirth" scene. Flies buzz around as she looks at the sewing done to the body. Makeshift breasts are shown sewed to the, once a man's, chest. She makes way passing close by the open legs of the body giving her stomach a sway. A urk noise comes from her and she tightens her hand to her mouth and her eyes close. The image of a man's eye looking out of a hole in the body's stomach embeds into her memory along with another head protruding out of the body's makeshift vagina. She quickly opens her eyes and passes the scene as quick as she could. Her right hand then drops from her mouth when she turns left to an open door. Black chalked on words 'WELCOME HOME' capture her sight, faded smeared blood underlines the words and stretches across to the floor and chair near it. She pauses just before she makes way to the screen door leading to a dark room. Her hand instantly grasps one glow stick and she lights her way to another door across the room. The glass window on the next door gleams, she opens the door and she shuffles through. A white dress takes hold a pickle color from her light. Then she reads the chalked words 'LOVE MAKES A HOUSE A HOME' she examines a sketch of a dress on an easel and passes it by and now stands to the left of the bridal dress on a torso mannequin. It's elegance fascinates her but also makes herself uneasy. The placement of something beautiful in an awful, morbid place like this. The light from the stairs from beyond the metal gate gives her hope. Her right hand grips on the knob as her left holds tightly onto her glow stick. The door creaks open, her right foot steps forward and leads her toward the black stairs. When she makes it to the bottom her head aches. Her left hand lets the glow stick drop into her left coat pocket just before she grasps her head with both of her hands. The wrinkles increase on her face and her eyes peer open the grey color gleams under the light as she sits down at the last step. A voice soon whispers in her head.
"Susan...you can save everyone even, yourself. Take this gift…" a man's voice echos in her mind.
"What...the hell?" she mutters while leaning forward in pain.
"An increase in brain power...the supposedly 10 percent you do not not use. You scientist should know this. But you...you are different from greed." the voice stops and silence returns yet pain stays awhile in her head.
"Who…? What are you?" she asks through her clenched teeth.
"The Walrider…" it answers then the pain suddenly rises away.
Her breath gasps and she feels relieved and shocked. Not only were her thoughts racing but her heart was. Was the Walrider really capable of unlocking parts of the brain? Surely it could be due to the alternations it had brought upon patients from the hypnosis screening. She allowed herself to stand and she held out her hands in front of her looking at them. She felt as if she had indeed had a power that had been unlocked rather than the teaching of science guessing that there was indeed a ten percent not being used, at all.
"Nothing out of the ordinary I suppose…but how in the hell can a nano weapon do such things to…" her thoughts are cut off as she hears a loud saw coming for a room to her far left.
Darkness shrouds the two halls in her path to the noise. She grasps her already snapped glow stick and continues toward it growing closer she opens a grey door. It quietly opens and a single source of light comes from a far room past a gated area. The light reveals a blooded floor from a far enough distance, a table with a big round saw blade and a blood stained wooden surface. Her eyes stare at the back the vested man the one she saw behind those two doors of the chapel building. He lifts his torso up and stands tall as he heaves up a body from the table and tosses it to the side. She notices his black macklemore cutted hair as he sweeps it back in place and takes in a breath. The open doorway soon is left empty and she stares and kneels by the doorway to keep a safe distance. She sits for a long while noticing nothing is being moved or disturbed. Hours past soon and she doses off.
