Son of Cerberus (The Unusual Operations Division Book 2) (12 page)

BOOK: Son of Cerberus (The Unusual Operations Division Book 2)
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However, if it meant that she could get her life back…

The party died down after an hour or two and Amy looked toward a clock that tick-tocked away on one of the darkly painted walls. It was ten minutes to one in the morning and Amy was tired beyond belief. Her body felt as if she had just run a marathon and her mind began to wander toward bed. Gelda was more than happy to help put Amy to rest. She carefully helped her out of her shirt and refused to let Amy take her own pants off.

Once nearly naked in front of the attractive, yet older woman, Gelda stepped back and eyed her from head to foot. Amy was surprised at the strange emotion she felt. Something deep inside of her that made Amy want to touch the other woman in a way that might seem inappropriate. She wondered briefly if Gelda had played some sort of sexual role in her life before she had lost her memory, but pushed it aside as rubbish. She could hardly remember the few days of her life and the confusing feeling of ambiguity was too much for her to handle.

“You look stunning,” Gelda said, sensing the hesitation emanating from Amy. A suspicious smile parted her red lips.

The next day they drove away from the city, up into the forested foothills to the west. Slowly, the group of men and women meandered through the winding roads farther away from humanity. After what seemed like an eternity, they pulled off the highway and headed down an old dirt road. There they quickly came upon something that looked like an old abandoned lumber mill. The way it loomed above the trees amongst the rubble made Amy’s skin crawl.

“We will perform your treatment here,” Gelda said. Today she wore a very light sweater over something so tight it made Amy blush. Edwardo was with them, too, as were the other men who she had not bothered to remember names for. They all started unpacking equipment from the back of the vehicle while Gelda stood outside and smoked a cigarette near Amy.

“We need the peace and quiet,” she explained, “so that your treatments will work effectively. If we are in the city, there might be distractions that would interrupt our session. This might prove fatal, or it might simply mean you’ll never have another memory again. It’s better we stay away from anyone and anything that might interrupt the process.”

Amy acknowledged the fact and agreed absentmindedly. She had no idea what was going on and decided it was better if she remained ignorant. She simply wanted to be better. What Gelda had promised her was nearly instant memories, so she didn’t worry too much. After all, the fact that they were trying so hard to get her back to her family meant they were honestly good people. She doubted they would hurt her.

Once the room was all set up, they led her in. A portable air conditioner poured freezing cold air into the roughly ten by ten foot space. If she didn’t feel claustrophobic enough inside the room, she realized that they had erected a bed upon which she was supposed to lay. The bed was equipped with restraints for her arms, legs, abdomen, and head.

“What is this?” she stammered.

“This is where your treatment will take place,” Edwardo said. “Don’t worry too much. The restraints are to ensure you don’t try to run away when the machine starts its work.”

“You are going to strap me down?” Amy was obviously worried. “I don’t want to be strapped in here.”

“This is the only way,” Gelda said reassuringly. “If we let you free, you’ll bolt for the door first chance you get. Then, we will have to strap you down anyway and start all over.”

The decision was being made for Amy—she was going to be strapped in that room all by herself unless she simply refused. If she did, she had no idea what would happen. Instead of conceding that easily, she decided to test her luck.

“I’m not going in there” she said flatly. “You’re not going to leave me in there alone. Either we find another way to do this, or I’ll live without my memories.”

Everyone became still and looked at Amy with equal expressions. They were flat, stoic, and alien to her. Where nice people had once filled her with something she considered joy, terror now echoed through the silence.

“Please stop acting crazy,” one of the men said, looking at her sideways as he worked inside the room. They were setting everything up as if it was going to be a cell for Amy. In the corner, hooked to power cables that disappeared through the thick walls, was a box. The box was something that made her shiver, as it had when they had taken it out of the car. It seemed as if it were simply made of steel, though there were certain aspects of it Amy thought might move. She remembered it, somehow, from the inside of the yacht.

It was the box that had made her see such horrible things. It was the center of all evil.

“You’re not going to like this choice,” whispered Gelda. “We were hoping you would simply comply, so we can get you home. I told you we are going to have to treat you a few times before you become yourself once more. It’s an unfortunate side effect of having been the subject of such terrible experiments in the first place. It’s going to hurt you, but you’ll have your memories back in no time.”

“I thought this was voluntary,” she stammered, becoming more alarmed by the moment. “I thought that you were here to help me—to protect me.”

“It is voluntary,” Gelda continued. “Even if you choose to leave this place, you’re going to find yourself in a tough spot. You can leave here, try to figure out what your life should be on your own. If you try really hard, you’ll be able to figure out who you once were. Though you might find out your true identity, you’ll never make it home—you’ll never be the same again. What we are giving you is a chance to get your life back.”

“So either I do what you tell me, or you abandon me here?”

“Yes.”

“You’re not trying to help me very much.”

“We are,” Edwardo said curtly. “Even if that means protecting you from yourself. We are going to help you. By your own orders…”

“Shut your mouth,” Gelda hissed. She left no time for Amy to think about what Edwardo had said. Instead, she drove her palm into Amy’s stomach as hard as she could. It drove the wind from her lungs and contracted her diaphragm so no other air could possibly fill the cavity that had been left empty. Amy doubled over, but found a strong man on either side of her hauling her into the dark room without much of a fight.

She could hardly breathe as the horror of her predicament finally came to light. She didn’t know if the people were going to help her or whether they were going to murder her. After all, she knew the people on that yacht had been murdered by one another. Perhaps they were part of some sick cult and she was going to be their precious sacrifice.

Whatever the outcome would be, she knew now there would be no escape.

 

Two unfortunate men hiked through the trees of northern New York in the crisp afternoon air. They had made it all the way from their cars to the old abandon mill, which just so happened to be where they were going to turn around. The cars that had pulled up didn’t really bother them. They had been through this hike many times in preparation for larger hikes they would take through the Appalachian Mountain Range when the weather got warmer. Each time they reached their turnaround point they would see cars, or parties, or teenagers defiling the area. The ten-mile hike they were undertaking was just the first of many they had planned.

They stopped just shy of the huge pyramid-shaped silos that were so iconic with the logging companies of old. There in the trees, they would rest and eat as much as they could stomach before turning around and hiking back to their vehicles at the head of the trail. The place was nice, cool, and shaded. They had rested their butts in the same place quite a few times, laying back to watch the clouds pass across the clear blue skies.

The sound of wind slowly making its way through the tall trees relaxed them both. It felt cool as it passed over their sweaty skin. It had been a long walk. The sounds of nature was everything they could ask for.

“Nice day,” one man said to the other. He smiled through a thick beard as he looked up through the trees as one particularly large cloud passed across the sun. “Best day I’ve had so far for hiking.”

Three men and one woman exited the building behind them and jumped in their vehicle. They couldn’t see the hikers from their vantage in the deep dark trees, but the hikers could see them easily enough. Neither of them could remember a crew of older men and women coming up here. They must be the owners, or maybe land developers come to check the area out for future development.

The car started and quietly pulled down the road, leaving the men in quiet contemplation once more. They ate their sandwiches in silence and downed as much water as they could without leaving themselves empty for the walk back. Ten miles through relatively hilly terrain could make a man thirsty rather quickly.

Ten minutes passed as the two ate and talked quietly. Once done, they put their garbage deep inside their backpacks, pulled them high up their backs, and made to head back to their vehicles. In the long silence that signaled their hesitation at marching back so soon, a peculiar sound pierced the relative quiet of nature.

A woman, or severely injured animal, screamed shrilly. The hair on both of their necks stood on end as it trailed on and on for what seemed like eternity. Once it stopped, they looked at each other with confusion and worry.

“What the hell was that?” the man with the beard asked the clean-shaven gentleman. “It sounded like a woman, yeah?”

“Yes,” the other man responded in a deep voice. “I think it came from inside the silo.”

Another scream pierced the air, causing birds to take to flight from the high boughs of the trees above. Neither of them needed to be told what to do. Both men took off at a dead sprint toward the silos. The soft ground was littered with pine needles and fallen leaves that cushioned every footstep. They moved quickly and silently toward the old logging mills and the screams rushed out to meet them.

Whether it was by sheer force of will or an odd coincidence, both of them managed to get at least ten feet away from the silo before they started feeling suddenly and violently ill. They stopped, heads swirling as something made their vision change and blood rush. Where the skies had once been a beautiful blue, they now roiled with a bloody red. The clouds smirked down at them in evil faces and the trees howled with the terrible sounds of the dead.

The bearded man trudged forward, wondering what type of craziness had just infiltrated his rather grounded mind. He had always stayed away from drugs and took very good care of himself. Immediately he wondered if his friend had slipped him some sort of hallucinogenic drug.

The howling scream of a dying woman forced him through the mind-numbing terror that surrounded him now. He looked back to make sure his friend wasn’t feeling the same effects, hopeful that one of them would be capable of going on. He only realized that something was wrong when he saw that his friend had taken a knee.

“Derek,” he said. His voice was strangely muffled. “Derek, you okay?”

His wobbly feet carried him over uneven and undulating terrain to get back to his friend. Regardless of whether or not there was someone being tortured in that hellhole behind them, he chose to help his friend first and foremost. Though the ground seemed to want to throw him down and keep him there, and his eyes felt as if they were presenting him with torturous images that threatened to make him vomit, he trudged on.

In a few steps that left flames where his feet had fallen, he managed to get to his trembling friend. The backpack he once wore seemed to be made of flesh, not fabric. Regardless, he knew that something inside of him was causing these hallucinations. He knew none of what he was seeing was real.

“Derek,” he said again, reaching down and grabbing his friend’s shoulder firmly. “You seeing all this, too?”

The man slowly tilted what used to be his face up to meet his friend. Instead of the clean shaven skin he had once worn, there was nothing but rough meat. It seemed as if his friend had lost huge portions of his head. The holes had teeth, though, and seemed as if they were ready to masticate whatever they came in contact with.

Instead of shying away, he moved closer. His extremely grounded mind told him that this was all unreal. He would simply investigate what should be instead of what actually was.

“Dude,” he whispered. “What the hell is going on with you?”

His friend either couldn’t speak due to his grotesque wounds, or he wouldn’t. He could see his shaking shoulders heave up and down as his face contorted into what might have been a grimace. Though he really didn’t have eyes at the moment, it seemed as if the holes where his eyes used to be were squinting.

Derek, the man on the ground, was whispering.

“What?” his bearded companion said, leaning down toward his friend. “I can’t hear you, man. Speak up.”

He leaned down farther, so that his ear was near his friend’s mouth. At the moment when his face was just inches away from his friend, a piercing, white hot pain, shot through his abdomen.

The clean shaven man had not taken the visions so well. His experience was much worse. Twice he had wretched on the shaking blood-covered ground and the demons that had closed in on him from every angle were now touching him. When he had looked up into his friend’s face, he saw a maw that threatened to devour him.

Acting as any scared man would, Derek stabbed a hunting knife deep into the vision’s belly. Before the monster could attack him anymore, he turned and fled as quickly as he could. Flames and screams followed in his wake, but at least the demonic image couldn’t threaten him further. He knew he had hurt the thing.

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