Come Into Darkness (10 page)

“…or we can find Worth. Anything.” Kerry gasped. “There’s a box! I’ve found a box on the wall!”

Panting, Mario sat back, his legs open and arms hanging by his sides. Nothing holding the man offered the slightest give. He studied the chains and straps and followed the wires from the man’s fingers…

“Oh fuck.”

From sitting on the floor, he stared at the mechanism attached to the underside of the desk. A thick, wooden cylinder, like a giant rolling pin, hung beneath the metal brackets. Chains, similar to those from a cycle, were wrapped around cogs at each end and vanished into a hole in the ground. The finger wires appeared to be wrapped around the cylinder.

Or wound around it.

“Open the damn box,” Mario screamed and jumped to his feet. “What are you waiting for?”

Sudden blue light flared in the darkness, radiating from the now open box. Kerry stood before it, her skin a sickly, cold pallor. She squinted.

“There’s a lever in here. It’s attached to…some kind of power unit. It might be the lights!”

“Don’t! Don’t pull it,” said Mario, thinking about the cylinder. “Leave it alone. What else is in there?”

“Let me see.” She reached in. “Christ!”

“What?”

Kerry removed her hand. In the blue light, a key glinted between her thumb and forefinger.

Mario’s heart leapt. “Quickly.”

Kerry walked over, taking fast, long strides. She passed the key over.

“Hope this works,” said Mario, fumbling with it. The cold of the metal seemed to nibble his fingers.

“…mmmm!””

“Just hold on, friend,” said Mario. “Keep still.”

He forced the key into the lock with trembling hands. The metal slid inside and turned with little effort. The lock popped open, and Mario opened it from the hinge holding the mask in place. He dropped it on the ground and hooked his fingers around the mask.

“Ready?” He pulled it away.

The man spluttered and spat. As Mario eased the mask away from the captive’s face, he noticed a large chunk of metal on the inside. Saliva hung from it in stretching threads.

No wonder he couldn’t talk. That was in his mouth!

He pulled the mask off, and its shadow reached back from the man’s face, revealing a bulbous nose and a thin moustache.

“No,” said Mario, stepping back and shaking his head. “No. It can’t be…”

“Help me!” screamed his father, struggling in the chair. “Is dark in here!”

10

Mario dropped the mask. It clattered on the stone.

“Please,” his father begged. “Mario, get me outta this thing. It’s dark!”

Muscles tense as the metal wires, Mario stood still, staring at the pleading, beaten face. Tears cascaded from bloodshot eyes, crossing the terrain of cuts and swells. A weight seemed to settle in Mario’s stomach.

“You know him?” said Kerry. A smile burst across her face, and she clapped her hands. “Oh! This must be your next game!”

Mario’s hands squeezed into fists. “This isn’t a game.”

“What do you mean?” asked Kerry. Without waiting for an answer, she stepped towards Mario’s father and studied him, her face close. “I don’t know how they do this, you know.” She poked him in the cheek, and he flinched. “He looks so real…”

“He is real,” said Mario, unmoving. “I thought I saw him before, downstairs.” He closed his eyes. “Bastards.”

His father fought against the chair. His arms shot up, but the metal hoops held them close to the desk. He screamed.

“My fingers,” he moaned. “Look at my fingers, Mario! Look what they did!”

Mario opened his eyes and glanced down.

His father’s fingers bled. His sudden movement had tugged at the wires, and ruby droplets ran along them to fall and pattered on the desk.

“I have drink at party, get sick,” said his father. “I wake here.” He bowed his head, weeping. The strap around his neck bit into the skin. He choked and raised his chin back. “Help me…please!”

“What do you have to do?” said Kerry, more to herself. She slowly turned on the spot, studying the darkness. “There must be a meaning to all this. Think!”

Mario turned his back on the desk and chair and cupped his hands around his mouth.

“Worth!” Mario swallowed a deep breath of the cold air. “Worth, you’d better get out here!”

Something above clicked, and a second spotlight flickered into life. Embedded in the wall of rock high over the box, the beam sliced through the darkness and illuminated a small balcony on the far side of the room. Violet curtains hung beyond with a few cushioned seats in between. Worth sat in the middle of the row.

“Worth! What the hell is this?”

The guide sat perfectly still. Even across the expanse of the room and through the glare of the spotlight, Mario shivered from the penetrating gaze of the old man.

He’s dead. I don’t know how he got up there in this dark, but he just sat down and died.

Saves me the job of killing the fucker…

A sound, like wind rushing through the cavern, drowned out his father’s sobs for a moment. Mario glanced up, realising he felt no breeze against his sweat-soaked skin.

Worth shook his head slowly.

Wait! That’s…that’s the sound of him sighing…

It had somehow amplified across the void.

“Mr. Fulcinni,” said Worth, and raised his hands in mock defeat. “What more can we do for you? We cater for everybody - every desire, every taste. We can only give you what you bring with you. In here.” He tapped his temple. “Yet you still complain!” His voice boomed out. Mario searched for speakers, but they eluded him in the dark.

“You’d better explain this!” said Mario and pointed to his father. “Sick bastards!”

“Shut up,” Kerry whispered. “Listen to what he has to say. It could be important.”

Worth leaned forwards in his seat.

“Very wise, Miss. Foster. Very wise indeed.” He cleared his throat. “Listen, sir, and listen very well. The management have been watching you and are
not
very impressed with your conduct, nor your manners, as this latest display clearly shows.” He sighed again. “A decision has been made and delegated to me, and please understand that this is out of my hands. As I said before, I am merely an employee…”

Mario stared up, anger bubbling like magma.

“So you did this? Because I want out, you go and do this?” He wiped the moisture from his face and smiled. “You didn’t do your homework, Worth, old boy. This…” He once again pointed to his father, who sat limp, silent. “This is no threat. You think the threat of hurting him will make me go along with your horror show?” He spat on the ground. “You can kill him for all I care.”

His father nodded. “You no change, boy.”

“Maybe you misunderstand,” said Worth. “This is no threat, neither is it a punishment. This was your next little event, a chance to put to rest more ghosts that haunt your life…” He settled back in his chair and hooked one leg over the other. “You’ve tasted your past. This is the present. Don’t you suffer constant nightmares after what happened with this man? Right there is the cause of all your pain. In fact, isn’t your very job a testament to the constant doubt?”

Mario’s lips peeled back to reveal a feral grimace. “Doubt? What have I got to doubt?”

“Why,” said Worth, smiling, “your masculinity! What better way to show you’re a big man by having constant sex filmed for all to see…”

“I do it for the money,” stormed Mario, his temples thumping. “I do it for the fame, and I do it because I’m fucking good at it!”

“Again, always having to prove yourself,” said Worth. “Regardless, the management have come to their decision, but would still gladly see you perform this task. I recommend you do, sir. It might put their minds at ease.”

Mario glanced back over his shoulder. His father remained still, listening.

“This is better then the theatre,” said Kerry, raising a flickering flame to the end of another cigarette.

“Shut up,” Mario snapped and turned back to Worth.

“Your release,” said the guide, “and indeed the release of your father, lies inside.” He pointed at the box on the wall. “This might prove interesting. Oh, and Miss Foster?”

Kerry took a drag and blew out a plume of smoke. It looked like an icy fog in the blue light. She looked up.

“Yes?”

“What may unfold may not be suitable for a lady to witness. I would kindly ask you to leave.”

“Ha!” She placed a hand on her hip. “There’s no way I’m missing this.”

Mario left them to their debate and approached his father, who immediately began to struggle anew.

“Please! Please, Mario, my boy!”

Mario leaned close, studying his father’s slick face. Whilst they had shaved his head, his cheeks retained a spread of dark stubble. Mario shivered, reminded of how the short bristles had scratched his own cheek as his father had kissed him all those years ago.

“Please!”

Mario stared at him, as if trying to bore holes into his skull with concentration.

“Miss Foster!” Worth continued. “I really do insist. You’re also not above the decree of my employer. I have also received strict orders in regard to yourself…”

“Shove it.” She flashed her teeth at Mario. “Well?”

He glared at her.

“God,” she moaned and sucked on her cigarette. “Go to the box. Pull that lever.” Her gaze lingered on the wires poking from his father’s fingers. “I wanna see what happens.”

“Miss Foster!” Worth’s voice boomed across the cavern in a thunderclap. The ground trembled, and the air throbbed with each syllable. Kerry’s mouth slammed shut.

Click!

Another light flickered on, over a door, previously sheltered in darkness at the end of the walkway. A modest exit sign, the light glared white.

“You have been told to leave,” said Worth, his voice loud, but controlled.

Kerry pointed at him, again, her cigarette pocked between her fingers. “And I told you,” she screamed at him, “that I paid to be a part of this! I could get this place shut down with one phone call! You don’t know who the fuck you’re messing with!”

The old man leaned forwards, face contorted with his frown.

“Always the one in charge,” he said, still controlled. “Always have to make the decisions. Very well.”

The exit door swung open. Hard. It ricocheted back on its hinges. A towering figure appeared and after a moment, slipped inside.

“Goodbye, Miss Foster.
You
really don’t know who
you’re
messing with.”

More shadowy figures dashed into the room and into the darkness. Standing in the island of light, Mario listened to their rapid footfalls pound the stone. They grew closer.

“Get her,” said Worth.

Mario backed away, heading for the centre of the golden circle cast by the spotlight. His hip struck the wooden desk, and his father wailed.

“Shut it,” Mario hissed.

His father did as instructed, descending into subdued whimpering.

The sound of the approaching men seemed to surround them. Kerry shot across a worried look.

“What do we do?” she said.

Mario shrugged his shoulders.

“Not my problem,” he said. “Your choice. You pissed him off.”

“But…but…”

Worth stood and, hands on the balcony railing, leaned over for a better view.

“That’s it. Grab her. Take her away to her own room. She seems to enjoy the games, and the management have plans for her.”

Kerry gasped and dashed to Mario’s side. She grabbed his arm tight. He wrestled free and shoved her back.

“Like I said, not my problem.” He glanced at his father. “I have my own to deal with.”

“Mario.” His father glared at him. A bead of sweat meandered down his cheek, following an unseen path. His head bowed. “For once, boy. Do the right thing!” He swallowed and took a deep breath, finally looking up with eyes that seemed to bulge from their sockets. “Help girl. Help me!”

Mario leaned in, close to his father.

“You lost any right to order me around a very long time ago.”

Kerry screamed and leapt away from the threshold of light. She again ran to Mario, who held out a hand to keep her away.

He glanced over her shoulder, catching movement. In the lingering black, a deeper shadow darted past.

“Mario. Please! Help her…” His father’s head whipped from side to side. “Whatever happened with us, you forget! Help girl!”

Mario roared and kicked the desk.

His father’s head shot back, and he howled. “My fingers…”

The scrape of shoes sounded nearby, and Mario shot around to meet the owner. The darkness seemed to part, and a hulk stepped into view. The man looked at Kerry, his barrel-chest pumping.

“Holy shit,” whispered Mario.

The man’s tight suit appeared painted on. Muscles bulged beneath the fabric, threatening to burst through at any moment. Light, blonde hair, perfectly arranged, sat on his head like whipped ice cream.

“You?” said Kerry, her eyes wide. “Stuart?”

Mario stepped past his father, seeking comfort with something between his fragile body and this sudden juggernaut.

His mouth…

Bolts of terror coursed through Mario. His body twitched, eager to burst into action and propel him away from the monster.

The man’s squat head swept left and right on a tree trunk neck. His manic grin remained; the lips peeled back, like the corners had been hooked tight to his ears. The deep set eyes found Mario.

“Help her!” cried Mario’s father again.

The man stomped towards Kerry, his hand outstretched.

Mario stood still, fearing that to move might attract its attention.

Kerry staggered backwards around the desk, staying within the light. Her stare locked with that of her attacker.

“No,” she pleaded. “I’m sorry…”

A draft tickled the back of Mario’s neck, and he faced the darkness. Something had moved within, too deep to be seen. He faced Kerry and the blonde man.

“Shit,” he muttered. “Run, Kerry! Into the dark!”

She jumped back, narrowly avoiding a heavy swipe. The man’s fingers cut through the air inches from her face.

“What?” she screamed.