Fan Fiction ❯ Frailty ❯ Lost, is the solution ( Chapter 14 )

 

“Frailty”

 

 

Chapter fourteen- “Lost, is the solution”

 

 

The floorboards emitted a strained groan from underneath their carpeting as a flash of indigo bolted across the threshold. Successfully arrived in the hall, Raven spun on her heel and seized the knob of the door behind her. A hectic manifestation of fear controlling her limbs, she jerked backward to slam it, but failed to catch the latch.

 

 

Operating under the assumption that all was well, she aborted her grip from the knob. As if to reward her for her arrogance, the door begun to slowly swing out. .

Frantically, Raven repeated herself, doubling her strength. The plate latched into it's commandeering wall unit, but the sorceress exerted far too much energy, and ultimately tumbled over onto the floor.

 

 

She lay still briefly, trying her very hardest to collect her bearings.

Taking in an unsteady breath, she reflected upon the dead C.O. This wasn't the most frightening, nor surprising situation she had been in tonight. Not by a long shot.

“So why am I so scared?” She worked her lungs to ask little more than herself. Though an answer never came, the query seemed to instill a mild enough amount of courage in the sorceress to return her to her feet. A clap of thunder made her start in surprise, but assisted to get her moving once more.

 

 

The only un-navigated corridor contained a set of double-doors toward the midpoint, and a break to the right at it's conclusion. Reluctant step-by-step, Raven begun to venture the hallway.

She proceeded without disturbance, till the double doors drew near. A series of deep, heavy booms arose, like colossal footsteps. They brought with them such impact that the entire corridor begun to tremble. Shrugging the M-16 into her hands, the mystic fell back and prepared herself for the worst. The worst came in due time.

Seconds after the rifle was raised, a section of wall across from the double doors exploded outward, sending gibs of busted wood onto the floor.

From the crude hole that remained, there stumped such an abomination that Raven couldn't find it in herself to open fire. Or, for that matter, do anything, save blankly stare.

 

 

In it's own light, it appeared to have descended directly from the nightmares of a madman. Whilst stepping into the corridor, it turned toward Raven, letting her in on all of the details she could have lived happily never knowing.

Generalized, the horrific beast seemed to be a roughly eight-foot tall mass of stitched, bronze flesh, and disproportionate muscles. Jutting from beneath the skin of the forearms were series of large, crooked blades, caked in a contortion of blood and rust.

 

 

A bizarre metal contraption that fitted the rear of the skull sent two wickedly carved tusks of iron into the corners of it's mouth, stretching it inhumanly back across the face.

That accounted, a maul full of razor-sharp teeth was constantly exposed. Had it been viewed from the behind, one would see a tail stem from the rear of this disturbing torture-mask, and navigate down the back, acting as a scrap-iron spine. From the center, it begun an entire metallic skeletal anatomy, making the resultant impervious to most imaginable forms of attack.

Raven of course, was oblivious to this.

When the beast whirled around, opting to proceed down the hall, her trance of fear broke. Placing the M-16's butt against her forearm, she frantically yanked down on the trigger, firing off a lethal three-round burst. The bullets sailed for their target, but upon making contact simply bounced off, not even succeeding to break skin.

 

 

Raven face-faulted while retreating. Her best defense aside from manipulation was proven to be about as effective as a blank round. However this new, terrifying foe failed to register the mystic.

It's back casted to her, the brute stumped noisily down the hall, completely disregarding not only her existence, but also her attempt on it's life.

She stood still for some time after the beast rounded the corner and disappeared from sight.

It seemed that no matter how far from her it grew, the low rumbling that implicated it's motion remained just as clear and distinct as when it was no more than ten feet before her.

…But there was something else.

When it was near, the creature seemed so very familiar. In contrast with the rest of Carnate, Raven didn't feel alien to it.

And while that may have been a more acceptable feeling than the other worries of dread, hopelessness and despair, it wasn't entirely good.

 

 

Like it's peers, Raven could sense only evil within the abomination; a pure manifestation of the island's demons.

Evil as it might be…The telekinetic thought while approaching the hole from which the beast made it's surprise entrance, There was still something I saw in it that I haven't seen in `any' of the others…

Indeed, she had not failed to notice that agonized look upon it's torn face. A pleading expression, it almost seemed.

But that didn't answer what it was.

It didn't answer why it was here.

And it didn't answer why she felt so close to it.

 

 

What lay beyond the wall was an average-sized rectangular chamber. Toward the rear was a narrow, octagonally framed cage, half of which was busted and bent outward. A bulked antique generator was positioned alongside, and wired to, it.

Save this, the secret room was featureless.

Studying closer, Raven noticed a large, heavy cord sprout from behind the generator and feed through the wall that it lay in front of.

Just like the prison, this place was caught in the middle of a power-surge that rendered such appliances useless.

Recovering from the cavernous-looking hole, the telekinetic turned toward the double doors.

The twin obstacles were shut securely, and looked undisturbed. Such a bearing died promptly as Raven's hand placed upon the knob and turned. With her position held, she paused to asses herself. After what just happened, a solemn decision to play it as safe as possible was made.

The M-16 gripped in her other hand, she silently counted to herself.

 

 

“…1.” What little space lay between Raven and the door was closed to nothing, as the titan leant against it.

“…2.” Her grip around the knob grew inordinately tight, and the urge to simply kick the door down and rush in was successfully resisted.

“…3!” The heavy barrier swung fully outward, it's own momentum driving it with such force that it ran into, and rebounded off of, a wall.

 

 

With the rifle armed in both hands, Raven stormed in, prepared to lay waste to the entire room.

Her respite, however, quickly died as she caught an eye-full of her new surroundings.

By all obvious accounts, the new chamber was definantly a rec. room.

Two large sofas and a coffee table positioned in the center dubbed it as such. Dominating the middle of the left hall was a sizeable hole- - a scene daftly similar to the initial corridor.

As if to be repugnant, it led into a massively proportioned room.

Raven failed to take note of her own locale before approaching the crude gap.

The large area dropped nearly ten feet, providing space for both levels.

 

 

From the floor begun to flights of stairs that climbed into a second-story walkway. There were numerous doors within the enormous room, one of which was easily assumed to be the entrance, with it's stained-glass windows that dominated the center and a lavishly intricate frame-design. All of them, however, were barred by the same wicked gate-like projection.

Disarming her rifle, Raven crouched into the cavity to get a closer look, but stopped short when a thickly accented voice rung from behind her, “You may wanna' watch yer' step…”

Due to this disruption's relative normalcy, it wasn't difficult for the mystic to digest, then turn to investigate.

 

 

Nestled in the corner of the room was a scene that, either due to the prevailing shadows or simply her blind-sided tendencies upon entering, Raven failed to notice.
A single-seat thimble chair was positioned where the walls met, as if to provide it's occupant a convenient view of the area's entirety. Crumpled between the arm-rests was a corrections officer whose appearance matched well with the broken English he spoke. Slicked jet black hair, a narrow, angular face, and mocha tinted skin indicated Porto-Rico, but held no guarantees.

It wasn't until Raven's gaze dropped to the vicinity of his feet, seeing a scattered assortment of empty beer cans, did she pick up the dank smell of alcohol. One glance at his eyes was all it took to conclude that the ethnic C.O was, for lack of a better term, plastered.

“Watchu' doin' here, eh?” He asked abruptly, causing her studying to fall short. She stalled to answer, unsure of how to talk to a drunk, then replied, “I'm looking for someone.”

“Really?” The officer queried while crossing his legs, “I come her wit' two of my buddies to just relax…the world's been so crazy for the past few hours…Is it one o' them yer' lookin' for?”

 

 

“No, it's actually…” Raven trailed.

It's actually what? The nefarious wraith of a doctor that lived some hundred years ago?

“…It's actually someone that might be able to help me off this island.” She replied in a hastened tone. True to form, it was uninformative, but that was small exchange for sounding like someone that actually belonged in this establishment when it was in it's prime.

“Bah!” The officer responded promptly.

“That was all anyone thought about when those Diablos showed up. Stay indoors, block all the openings, always carry protection.” He interrupted himself to produce a mocking `pffft'.

“I am real man, y'know? Die when the Lord says I'm good n' ready.”

Raven nodded, but was hardly focused on his words.

“Anywho, if this person yer lookin' for's anywhere, `s probably gonna' be the operating room.”

 

 

This was enough to gain the telekinetic's attention.

“Really?” She asked, “Where?”

The officer unsettled from his seat slightly to gesture toward the hole, “Second door on the right in that room. But you can't get in there…”

“I know…” Came a prompt reply, “Those projections have the entire place sealed off.”

“Ah, it ain't tough to get rid o' those, just break what's castin' `em. Your real problem is the door. Whoever owned this place last chained and padlocked it down…” He leaned forward, “Musta' been somethin' he really didn't want anyone to know about in there…”

Raven's brow creased in thought. “So…I suppose I have to find a key…” She concluded, then looked toward the officer. “And you probably have no idea where it is, right?”

“I gotta' perfect idea where it is.” Her drunk informant responded knowingly, then swatted the breast-pocket of his coat, “'S right here on me. `N I tell you what, Ima' give it to you on one lil' bity condition…”

 

 

The mystic fought the urge to roll her eyes before replying, “…And what would that be?”

“Well, as you can see, the asylum's in a bituva' black-out…That don't bother me, since most everything in here's too old to work anyway, but…” He threw a glance toward the coffee table. Occupying the center was an antique radio, in fairly good condition despite it's clearly advanced age. “There was one thing. My tunes, they ah…help me keep calm. But as you can see, the power-surge killed `em, so…”

“So you want me to get it back.” Raven finished for him. Rather than verify, he continued, “The generators are in the attic. Not sure why, but something up there keeps turnin' `em off, so all you'll probably have to do is flip a switch.”

The telekentic face-faulted while preparing to leave.

“Somehow, I don't think it's going to be that easy.”

Instead of offering conscolence, the corrections officer called after her, “Me neither. Those

 

 

Raven thought it odd, briefly, how the last corridor she had occupied wasn't such a distressing scene till the beast made it's appearance. Though the hole it created dominated vaguely less than a quarter of the wall, it distributed so much damage that wide cracks seered across the surface with such depth that they resembled fault lines. Wherever the destructive freak-show stepped, it left behind a near inch-deep depression in the flooring.

For Raven, this did not become a realization till she reached the break and nearly vaulted over. Recovering from the stumble, she dropped her gaze to the ground to see not only the culprit, but two columns of likewise prints begin from their creator's point of entry, and stretch on till the rounded the corner.

Ultimately, this assisted to track every place it ventured.

 

 

Focusing more on that than her surroundings, the titan ventured into the next hallway.

Like it's predecessor, the corridor was lit only by candles. There was an utter absence of windows, and the distance in terms of width was drawn much tighter. At the conclusion of a near fifteen foot trip, it forked to the left and right, and possessed another break at the midpoint. The trail held duration for the entire hall, then led to the left.

Though she wanted to believe she could brave that terror once more, Raven feared inside. Not because of it's bearing.

Not because of the destructive power that it very clearly possessed, but because of that close relation she felt to it.

To know it was one thing.

To feel like it was connected to her was another.

 

 

`And it's the worst feeling on Earth…' She identified to herself while approaching the initial break.

With her fear confirmed and more-or-less accepted, it seemed easier to grab at the first explorable straw available.

However, it still didn't yield much reward.

At the entrance, the floor dropped into a staircase, the end of which she couldn't see past an ordinarily thick blanket of shadow.

Not averting her gaze from the darkness, the mystic reached a hand toward her waist for the flashlight- - and gained the urge to kick herself at remembering it had been abandoned less than five minutes after it was discovered.

 

 

Gradually, she lowered a foot onto the first step, and let the venture proceed from there with an incramental pace. It almost seemed that, with each inch she grew deeper into the well, the darker it became. Even when the last grace of light was dispersed from her eyes, and pitch blackness reigned, it grew darker still.

The anxiety this gave the telekinetic took a reflexive toll when there came a low growl from behind her, and the entire flight of stairs commenced to explode in a flurry of gunfire.

 

 

Raven was not able to identify just what it was that assailed her from behind before the recoil from the M-16 caused her to lose balance and tumble over.

The tulmutous venture did not end till the last step, where she came to rest in a crumpled pile.

A second later, the corpse of her attacker flopped over before her, bent over the neighboring step.

 

 

Her breath catching in her throat, Raven hastily scooted away, keeping the rifle clutched in one hand. After attaining what logically seemed a safe distance, she sat still and waited, not only unsure of whether or not she had actually killed it, but also just what it was.

Nearly two full minutes passed, and the sorceress remained dormant, squinting her hardest to make out some type of form.

 

 

Swallowing some of her nerve, she slowly reached a hand out, and ran two fingers across the surface of it's flesh.

The texture was dry and rough, the arm of a machete' beast in her best judgement, though it was still difficult to identify. Advancing by less than an inch, she wrapped her hand around the limb's entirety, and slid down, waiting to feel the cold steel of a blade.

Though a mundane and questionable task, Raven found beads of sweat begin to roll down the side of her head as she neared the wrist.

Again, she leaned in. There couldn't possibly be more than a meter left…

 

 

INTERESTING.

 

 

The guest voice boomed with a startlingly inept acoustic ability, nearly causing the sorceress to fall over once more at her own surprise. Hastily, she scrambled to her feet as a spectrum of light flooded the stairwell. It was then that the sconces which caused this became visible.

 

 

Most intriguing how, before you were brought to Carnate, you exhibited a strong personal disfavoritism with light, but now it presents itself as SUCH a valuable companion. It just goes to show that you don't really know what you have, until it is taken away, though I'm sure by now you've realized how good you had it at home….

 

 

Raven quickly straightened her posture.

“Doctor Killjoy.” She identified, “You made it grow so dark?”

 

 

Indeed, I did, dear. The wraith answered, absent of smugness. Immortality in the form I earned yields many such…rewards, if you shall. Regardless, that was merely an experiment…something to gauge how quickly you scare. With that, I do believe my spectation has taught me everything I need to construct a proper analysis. Do hurry and meet me in the operating room.

 

 

. Raven stood still for some time after Doctor Killjoy's voice faded from her mind, brooding over what he said.

So much about this island left her like this.

He was inevitably right- -Despite everything the sorceress had been through, she never felt more lost than when her vision was clouded by darkness.

And yet she did so much to seclude herself from it back home.

 

 

She lifted her head, some of that homesickness that resulted dying.

For the time being, it didn't matter. The light was here, and it wasn't going anywhere. Raven hefted the M-16 up and began to venture into a narrow corridor that the staircase led unto.

In light, it ended almost as quickly as it began. Five feet length-wise saved just enough space to freely walk around in.

To the left was a pair of heavy double doors, comprised of a pallid green stone material.

“Ivory…” The sorceress identified while running a hand across the surface.

The center of each door bore the word “Theatre”, engraved with just enough depth to distinguish it from the other designs.

Grabbing a handle, she applied only a small amount of pressure, and opened it with more ease than she assumed for such a massive structure.

 

 

What it accessed was, indeed, a theatre, though toward the roof it assumed more of a cathedral architecture. A rectangular portion of the floor yielded two columns of benches and stretched forward from the entrance an even twenty four feet before giving way into an elevated stage.

Small, orb-shaped fixtures that glowered with a supernatural light were recessed into the walls, and lit only a small radius of the space before them.

 

 

The stage itself was the more grabbing of features within the room. The ceiling dropped lower than that of it's neighboring bleacher section, and possessed a metallic chute near the center.

At the very rear wall, a rectangular sheet of metal stood, sloppily leant against the wall as if to conceal something. Tied to the top of this was a standard, hemp rope that stretched up to the ceiling and looped into a small hook. From there, it led to a heavy block of led, stored safely within a small compartment in the wall.

Generalized, this presented a rough pulley system; Should the block be dropped from it's accommodations, the sheet that barred the entrance to whatever lay behind it would be raised.

 

 

Though the area looked clear, Raven warily kept her rifle raised while advancing for the stage.

Without having to disarm it, she climbed up and ventured across the hardwood floor of the proscenium, forming a B-line for the sheet.

Upon arrival, the mystic knelt down and examined the obstacle closer. From the side, it revealed itself to be at least two inches thick; Impossible to simply push out of the way.

This left only one logical solution. Slowly, she lifted her gaze toward the hook.

The block was up far too high to knock down by any conventional means. Levitation however made it, at the very least, possible.

 

 

A vain attempt to gather the concentration for such a feat would hardly make it into those initial budding words of montra before there arose a bloodcurdling shriek from overhead. It carried with an echo that presented it's source as dropping through the chute- - soon to arrive unto the stage.

Raven froze momentarily at this, taken aback by the audibility it possessed, then regained her senses and swept away just in time to miss a downward cleave from a machete' beast whom plummeted from above.

Taking it's presence in, she raised the rifle to fire, but was ungainly seized by something behind and, before receiving much time to tell what was even occurring, found herself nearly ten feet in the air. The telekentic looked around her waist, where she had been grabbed at, to see an arm, absent of flesh and coated in a thick, clear puss-like material.

Such an external description brought only one culprit to mind.

“Nooseman!” She gasped, then raised her eyes skyward to see the eerie, unmoving puddle of blood it goaled itself as pulling her into.

Indeed since the last encounter, she had thrown together an uncreative, but honorably accurate name for this particular foe. And like that instant, she had no intention of being pulled into it's vortex.

 

 

Thinking quickly, she sought out her fastest option; The led block which, by this point, was about eye-level to her. Reciting the chant in a single breath, she shrouded the heavy form in a dark haze and shot it into her hands, nearly dropping it in victim to it's overwhelming heft.

Though it struggled to maintain, Raven's captor was incapable of carrying both the weight of she, and the block, soon thereafter allowing it's grip to slip.

 

 

Levitation caught the sorceress with considerable ease, allowing her the safety to let go of the heavy block, then spring off the stage. Seeing it's plan fall to pieces, the `Nooseman' renewed it's pursuit, and was in turn met by the broadside of the very object that foiled it's first attempt.

Both it and the block sailed for the ground thereafter.

 

 

Raven had returned to the ground to see that her threat of the machete beast quadrupled, and was all too ready to advance upon her. Past this, the sheet of metal had been raised up to the ceiling, leaving behind a small panel of switches.

The nearest Hell spawn gave a foreboding shriek as it proceeded for her. The M-16 she had prepared in advance barked a careless reply with a three round burst of led that cut the offending freak down. The other three seemed to take this in as a warning sign, and split into completely opposite directions, one of them going as far as to scale up the wall.

Pulling beside her, the first arrived beast feigned outward, and came up utterly short as it's quarry sprung away. Easily seeing an open-spot at the ribs, Raven leveled the rifle and fired, easily catching it's weak zone.

Victim to it's own ignorance, the creature careened off to the side and hit the ground in a bleeding heap.

 

 

The mystic continued to fall back with this victory, attempting to gain as much space between her assailants and herself as possible. The beast that took to the walls had arrived at the ceiling before beginning it's attack, initializing it through another surprise-drop. All too knowing of the situation, it's target strode off to the side, coming to a safe-haven just as it landed.

 

 

Deciding to utilize her powers once more, Raven recited her chant and with it, uprooted one of the seating bleachers, then commenced to lawn-dart it into her more distant threat. Guided by the offending bench, it propelled backward before crashing into a wall, leaving the busted zone of impact and a graphically mutilated corpse behind as a keepsake to the asylum.

Backpeddaling, the mystic eliminated the last threat with her rifle, firing two slugs into it, which ripped much of the upper torso apart.

 

 

In outcome, the theatre looked like something of a warzone, littered with bodies, bullet holes, and spent ammo cases. Raven stood amongst it, halfway surprised by the relative ease of this particular encounter. Either they were getting weak, or she was becoming prone to Carnate's ways.

Considering the nature of the island, she wasn't sure whether to lean toward the latter, or not.

Looking back toward the goal of this altercation, it was found to be a panel intended for controlling several functions of the island. Despite the power being down, the glow of the small switches remained intact, signifying not only full operation, but also the doing of Doctor Killjoy.

Everything in this place was his doing.

 

 

Several columns of levers and switches played out on the panel, and gave discrete labels at the top, such as “Water”, “Heat”, and “Locks”.

Needless to say, Raven explored the last option. Most of the side-labels to each switch displayed little more than an incoherent collaboration of letters and digits, the last one, however, held a distinct significance as “ATTIC”.

Without a second thought, she flipped it. There was no sound of verification, but that was rationally expected. With no other reason to stay, she climbed to her feet and saw herself back to the staircase. Though the memory of her first venture down lingered, the trip itself was uneventful, something Raven found herself grateful for right up until she arrived at the top step, then proceeded to return to the stairwell's foyer.

 

 

Like the last occasion this narrow, scarcely lit corridor was explored, the telekinetic paid more mind to the trail left upon the floor-boards than where she was actually going. This mainly accounted for her surprise when she rounded the left corner where it led, and was met by a dead-end, the likes of which hardly even exceeded ten feet. The trail simply ended at the wall, and displayed no signs of turning around, or relocating anywhere else.

Raven did not avert her gaze from this until she backpedaled into the right turn, and proceeded into another hall. The moment she entered, there came a greeting. A noise, and while not uncommon, it proved itself to be slightly more frantic than that of it's predecessors.

A dull, constant flopping sound that rose in pitch, and occasionally gained and lost it's repetition.

On the right were two doors, both shut and undisturbed, and toward the end, more noticeable than the others, a stairwell folded out from the ceiling.

Raven flung the first door she came to open in a haste, knowing that the source of the sound did not lay behind this. A bare, small padded room was revealed. Though it was smeared with blood stains, nothing more than this resided between the four walls.

 

 

Raven backed out and, sure to close the door behind her, moved onto the next option.

On this occasion, she placed an ear against the door's surface, attempting to hear out the room that lay behind it.

Sure enough, that flopping noise grew perceptively louder. After placing a hand on the door, she turned and shoved it open, then sprung back in preparation to open fire. What rewarded her cautiousness was easily the most brutal sight to have been beheld over the night.

On the floor lay the form of what could at one time have possibly passed for a corrections officer. With his legs and arms severed, he struggled and squirmed about helplessly, almost as if the asylum would not grant him the release of death.

Raven on looked this just long enough to receive all the details, then backed out and fell against a wall. On cue, her mind released a flood-gate of the very first human being encountered on this island, and how tortured he had appeared, and it raised a question of just how easy it would be for her to end up in such a position. During this, that ever-constant flopping sound proceeded, and seemed to gain more depth.

 

 

Ah, I see you've stumbled upon another one of my experiments. Doctor Killjoy interrupted, not allowing Raven the time to reply before continuing, Did you know that the average human being only uses twenty percent of the full capacity their mind contains? This little delve into the human anatomy proved my theory that sometimes it is the `body' that restricts us from capitalizing on the brain's full potential.

The telekinetic returned to the doorway and forced herself to stare into the crudely mutilated torso once more to place aim. She then looked away and proceeded to pull the trigger. A dull shot rung across the hall, then all was quiet.

 

 

“You're sick…” She hissed amid the silence, and received a rather unexpected answer,

Sick I may be, dear, but at least it isn't part of `my' species' nature….

 

 

The attic, as Raven had anticipated the fold-out staircase to lead to, was a massive, empty room with little walking space. Two wide bands of concrete ran alongside each other at opposite ends of the area. Aside from this, there was a sea of insulation stuffed between columns of narrow support boards. The ceiling, at one particular locale, looked as though it had just been hit by a hurricane. A hole dominated much of center, achieving such a size that the rain cascading from over head drown much of the underlying section of the attic out. Further ahead land-marked the form of a large object, mostly blanked out by shadows. Though she begun to head into it's direction, something caught the corner of her eye; A small, black object tucked into the insulation nearby.

Crouching down, she swept the yellow, cotton-candy-like substance aside and plucked from it a projector. Though the insulation immediately repopulated the area where the old appliance once resided, the vague form of a hole towards the bottom remained visible. Dangling it by one of the large wheels on-top, the sorceress shined it's projection onto what little remained of the ceiling.

Sure enough, the image of a gate flashed across the worn surface. In the center it bore the words, “Operating room”. Smirking, she discarded it to the side, then continued on her way.

 

 

A flash of lightning streaked across the sky, providing the otherwise dark attic with less than a second of illumination. This assisted Raven in finding that the sizeable form she approached was indeed a generator- - a cylindrical form that possessed two panels toward the bottom.

Upon arriving, she dropped to the foot of the machine and squinted through the dark to read any possible identification of the switches that scattered the flat surface.

One in particular caught her attention- - A faint stenciling that read “Central Unit” was positioned above a small latch.

 

 

A low hum of operation permeated throughout the attic as the generator set to it's tasks of restoring power to the asylum. Raven recovered to her feet and looked around. Nothing had changed, and in an ultimate result, it remained this way right up until she retraced her steps back to the rec. room.

 

 

A hallway shy of the destination, an electric guitar shuddered across the air. Raven didn't find the tune anywhere near familiar, but regardless picked up the pace.

Just outside of the door, the lyrics flooded her earshot in a less than glorious manner.

 

 

“I jump into my rocket, `cause I'm ready to blast!

I dunno' where I'm goin', but I'm gettin' there fast!

Don't know if there ain't a future, but there isn't a past!

Make it like the first time so it won't be the last…”

 

 

The mystic entered the rec. room in just enough time to hear The Brian Setzer Orchestra's “In the mood” pass through it's chorus line. Though it blared loudly enough to wake the dead, she managed to hear the officer shout over it, “'EY! THERE SHE IS!”

“DOESN'T LOOK LIKE YA' FOUND MY FRIENDS, BUT YA' BROUGHT BACK MY TUNES, AND THAT”S MORE IMPORTANT! HERE!” With that being the only warning, he produced a key from his coat and tossed it in Raven's direction, which was caught without incident.

“IF YA' WANNA' SHORCUT, JUST DROP INTO THE HOLE, BUT YA' MIGHT WANNA' BRACE YOURSELF. IT'S A LOOONG FALL!”

 

 

Though she would have preferred to simply levitate down, the sorceress was reluctant to do such in front of the officer, and instead scooted off the side. She landed on her feet with a dull wunt and quickly recovered. At the other end of the room sat her destination- - The only door absent of a projection.

Without reluctance, the telekinetic approached and set to unlocking the numerous padlocks strung to a series of inter-looping chains that draped about the door. One by one, she negotiated through the barring obstacles, till all of them were dismissed to the floor.

 

 

The foyer that lay beyond this door did not account for much of the asylum's space, despite leading into one of the establishment's most pertinent rooms. Achieving less than ten feet of width, it traveled forward a likewise measurement before arriving at the final door.

With a slower pace than what she entered the corridor with, Raven clasped the handle, and swung the final barrier between herself and this long-awaited room outward, then slipped inside.

 

 

The first thing she could not help but notice was the light. In contrast to the rest of his asylum, Doctor Killjoy's operating room was vividly lit, and though it was of an odd architecture, not even a lone corner was touched by shadow.

The second thing that came to mind were the projectors- -they were everywhere. Raven counted well over six of them in the central section of the room alone.

The area's last feature more or less had to bring itself to the mystic's attention. As she wandered in, a booming growl projected from overhead, causing her to immediately redirect her focus toward the ceiling, where a large cage was suspended by two thick steel cables.

Trapped within it's confines was the beast.

She gasped and moved back as it tried in vain to free itself, using one of the massive blades that protruded from it's arm.

It was at this moment that Doctor Killjoy decided to make it's appearance, via one of the many projectors stationed in the room.

 

 

So glad you could make it, dear. He greeted after appearing beside her.

“Doctor Killjoy!” She exclaimed while stepping in reverse, “What are you planning to do with me? And what…” She pointed toward the cage, “Is that…thing?”

The wraith smirked disarmingly. Well, can't you see the resemblance, dear? He asked, It's you!

A hybrid of the evil that resided within you even `before' you arrived here, and the very foundation of Carnate Island. They make a rather handsome picture together, do they not?

Sarcasm weighted his tone toward the end.

As for what I planned for you…I can safely say that you are the most unique case I've seen to date. `Far' too complex to safely diagnosis without receiving a full verification of what I have learned…and the only way to do `that' is to operate…

As he said this, a small horde of beasts materialized behind him. The sorceress' eyes grew wide as she clued into his intentions. .

I'm very sorry it had to end like this, but I knew it would all along…the most secure way to learn how your mind functions is to split it open and explore for myself.

He advanced, as did his staff of monstrosity, all too excitedly prepared to butcher their victim.

I am a man of science. Not mercy. Now, stay still, and I promise it will be fast…Painless, however, I cannot guarantee.

“No!” Raven gasped.

 

 

-End Chapter 14-

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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