not-so-secret underground lair

“So, this your first time here?”

The voice beside me was whispered. There was a hint of humor to her voice. It just irritated me, but I answered anyway.

“No.” I answered coldly.

“Tell me about it, I’ve got time.”

So I told her, everything I could remember if for nothing else, to kill the time between now and whatever was to happen next. It could possibly be the last time I ever spoke.

It was the first time I’d been here. She had summoned me. I didn’t want to go, but someone had to represent our group, and damn the luck, I drew the short straw. It’s only right though, I was the only member with no children, and I would have been more surprised if I returned, than if I didn’t. Upon entering the domain, the door, made of polished gray marble, laid a strange inscription. I like to sketch in my free time and I usually carry my items in the car, in case I’m on a stakeout, I have something to do. I ran back to my car and grabbed the charcoal and a sheet of paper and rubbed the inscription from the door into the paper. It read as follows…

Can I possibly express my anger,
These familiar feelings of frustration,
With a trite mathematical monologue?
Ah! What knowledge blinded authority,
Possessing ten-fold my learned knowledge,
Yet not a tenth of my understanding,
Would teach me, already running, to walk!

As I skillfully tie my last few knots
Of a complex macramé tapestry,
Someone berates me from behind a wall,
Insists I learn again to tie my shoe.
To appease the insistence of the voice,
I listen placidly to the teacher,
Then demonstrate what I already knew
A million times over, and then again.

But what would this world be, to set me free
Understanding things I was never taught?
Pitiful plebeians, who would avoid
The thought that I do not need their knowledge
Because I have my own; the same and more!
They clap their hands over their pounding ears,
Resounding with the thunder clap I made;
I broke the unsurpassed, unbreakable
Barrier of the sound of ignorance,
Shattering their bliss upon the sharp waves
That cleave disbelievers like a razor,
Even as they roll gently over the heads
Of those wise enough to question my sound.

Having written man's very salvation,
Would they then introduce author to word?
So come, train the brush to paint a picture,
And rule the world if you think that you can.

‘Gee, that’s nice and cheery, c’mon in, it’s fun’ I jested to myself. Just below that, in larger bolder letters….

You can checkout anytime you like, but you can never leave.

There was no lock, or knob, or any sort of device to keep anyone out. The door swung freely open. Shutting the door quietly, I turned to see nothing more than a dimly lit hallway. The fluorescent light mixed with the scent of burnt hair made my stomach turn. The hallway, although clean in it’s own, was nothing more than a concrete passageway. At the end, there were two directions to go. Right and left, no more no less. I went left. The concrete floor changed to metal grates allowing me to see the dirt below my feet. It seemed to go on forever, the bottom never really revealed in the dim light. I tried to walk lightly to avoid making noise against the grate that was supporting the weight of my body. The walls surrounding me were nothing more than a vast plane of concrete, cool to the touch. I approached the doorway I had stealthily been making my way to. The door, a thick mahogany, looked very odd sitting in its current surroundings. The doorknob, a bright brass with a large 7 embossed into the knob, had a small card slot above it. I slowly placed my hand against the knob expecting it to turn. Seconds my hand remained on the knob before I quickly jerked it away, but by then, it was too late. I looked at my palm, and there it was…the 7 burned brightly into my flesh. ‘Sick bitch’, I thought. I took my over shirt off and gingerly wrapped my hand several times with it. I placed my hand back over the doorknob, hoping the shirt was enough to resist the immense heat of the knob. It was. But to no avail, the door was locked. Angrily I headed back the way I came. Not caring about the sound of my boots clanking against the metal I stomped my way back to the hallway I had just come from. The sound, stopped me dead in my tracks, a deep rumbling from somewhere below, not at all human or animal like, more like machine, came from the grate beneath me. Upon instinct I jumped from the grate barely hitting the concrete. I stared in amazement as the grate that no more than 2 seconds ago, held me firmly, now swung from it’s hinges depositing it’s cargo into the depths below. ‘Damn that was close’ my mind conveyed. Just then the door I recently tried to open nearly swung off its hinges with the abrupt opening. There she was, standing, laughing, looking down on me like the mere mortal I was. It made my blood boil, but I had to keep myself in check, for here it meant life and death. I rose to my feet and the gates snapped back into place before my eyes. I knew the fear still showed in my face, because she was laughing. Not the hearty happy laugh, but the menacing one that I’d grown so accustom to lately. I slowly made my approach, trying to keep the anger from rising in my voice.
“You bitch, why do you invite people here? Just to see them killed?” I asked through gritted teeth.
“Hey now, you’re still breathing.” She replied with a grin on her face.
“No help from you of course, I thought you said you would meet me at the door”
“As I have. Didn’t your mother teach you to knock?” She replied still grinning. Turning to enter her sanctuary she casually replied to me, “Come along now, we don’t have all night.”
“Yes Ma’am.” I replied, following her at a safe distance, my eyes still focused on the grate below me that almost took my life.
She stopped in the doorway to allow me to enter first, never turning her back on me. Upon entering the room, I was more in shock than the anger I had felt earlier. I expected it to be more….graphic, for a lack of a better word. The walls were not the same concrete that enveloped the hallway, but an extremely light gray marble, that almost glowed in the dark quarters. The fluorescent lights were not present here. Instead, carved into the wall opposite the door I was standing in was a large fireplace. It wasn’t so much a fireplace, but more a wall of fire. The wall had been designed this way, and it lit the entire room with an eerie glow. The desk in the middle flowed properly with the rest of the room, made of black wood and marble. Behind the desk, a large leather chair sitting in place behind it, in front of the desk, two dirty metal folding chairs. There was no doubt as to which side of the desk I would be sitting on. She waited for me to sit, then walked around and placed herself in front of me in her own chair. She was flipping through the pages of the leather-bound book in the middle of her desk, which afforded me the opportunity to look around. On each side of the firewall were two angels, but not in any way your typical angel. These were of all the beauty and essence of your everyday angel, but the wings were a black marble and where the eyes should be, were small candles. ‘That’s one hell of a candle holder’ I thought silently. I surveyed the rest of the room…everything defiantly looked as if it all belonged here in one-way or another, but each was unique in it’s own right. The pencil holder sitting directly in front of my face, was a hand, defunct the flesh of course, and the fingers were positioned so the pens and pencils flowed easily in and out of them.
“Hey asshole, I asked you about the numbers.”
Jerked from my thoughts of the room, I suddenly realized someone was speaking. “Sorry” I stumbled. “Okay, the numbers…well we’ve got 5000 easy in various places.”
“So you’re telling me you don’t have a definite number?” She asked. It was more of a threat than a question.
“We’ve got 3000 firm, but there are a couple units that were having a hard time getting in contact with, which is the point.” I replied, looking into her eyes.
“I guarantee you if you don’t get me all the figures by the end of this week, you’ll have a new understanding of what hard time means.” She grumbled going back to her book.
Her eyes. I pick this as an opportunity to allow my mind to wander again. They were green. I don’t think I had ever noticed that before. The menacing look in them would undoubtedly haunt my dreams for weeks. The phone on the desk rang, jerking me from my thoughts once again. She yanked the phone from its receiver.
“Yeah?” She barked into the phone.
She continued her conversation as if I wasn’t in the room. This is the first time I’d seen her in this much light. She wasn’t a bad looking girl…girl, now there’s a funny thing to call this monster in front of me. Although I hadn’t known her long, I’d heard the stories, as everyone had. I’d heard tale that the hand on her desk, used to belong to her partner and that she was the one kind enough to remove it from his body. Although I couldn’t tell what was being said through the phone, her face lightened slightly, and I could tell this was personal and not business. I caught her eye as she stared me down. I took this as my cue to give her some privacy and stood from my chair, the metal squeaking against the floor as I did. I walked to the far side of the wall and casually glanced at the items as if I’d seen them a thousand times, but in my mind, I was astonished. On a podium against the wall was something that looked like the guest books at funerals. I started to turn the pages and leaf through it. Upon each new page I turned, the pictures grew more and more grotesque. I carefully slid my hand under the front cover of the book and leaned it forward. There embossed in the leather was the following…
HALL OF SHAME
BETRAYERS
Well, that was all I needed to know what sat on the other side of the room, a cold-blooded killer. I’d never seen any reason to believe that the woman before me had a heart, but at that exact moment I was convinced that there was nothing beating in her chest besides the small pounding hands of the child she had for lunch. There was so much more of the room that I had wanted to survey, but after my encounter with the book, all I wanted to do was leave, alive. She finished her call and I resumed my seat in the metal chair. We finished our business with my promise that I would be back with the rest of the numbers as required. With that, she dismissed me, and allowed me to find my own way out. Which I did, as quickly as my feet would move me.
“You never followed through on your promise did you?” The voice beside me asked.
“No.” I answered solemnly.
“Guess you found out what was down the hallway to the right.”
The humor the imp beside found in our present situation did nothing for my temper. I stood to my feet and moved as far as I could. Wrapping my fingers around the cold bars that caged me like an animal. I shook them as hard as I could. The next thing I felt was a liquid hot burning on my face. Acid. I immediately fell to the ground my hands covering my face in agony. The imp was at my side in an instant, although I don’t know how she didn’t step on me in our pitch-black conditions.
“Don’t make any noise. They punish us.” She said to me quietly.
“Yea, I figured that out.”
Then, the room went black as I lost my grip with consciousness.

thanks for sharing my latest captives experience. there are two kinds of people in this world...masters and servant. which side are you on?

"I’ve got a little black cloud
That follows me.
Everywhere I go,
It takes over me."

[This message was edited by bailey on 02 July 2003 at 03:05 PM.]

[This message was edited by bailey on 03 July 2003 at 04:38 PM.]

Posts: 237 | Location: sodak | Registered: 23 June 2003

bailey

Scroll Disciple

posted

	View $GS_USERNAME's Public Profile
	Add $GS_USERNAME to my Buddies
	Add $GS_USERNAME to my Ignore ListRemove $GS_USERNAME from my Ignore List
	Invite $GS_USERNAME to a Private Topic
	View Recent Posts by $GS_USERNAME
	Notify me of New Posts by $GS_USERNAME

Quick Reply to: not-so-secret underground lair
Guest Name

Close \| Quick Quote