A Short Story by John McDOnnell
A whistled tune echoed through the empty streets. The shadows twisted and flickered as the wane light of a torch marked the procession of its wielder. A top hat wearing figure skipped every second step, in his shadows followed an assortment of nightmares.
“Nursey, come over here and hold my hand!
Nursey, my heart doth beat like a hammers hand.
Round my heart, it goes boom boom boom boom,
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh just like a hammers hand...”
Seamus stopped at the entrance to a desolate hospital, the words he was singing, fading from his lips. Just what the Doctor ordered, mused Seamus. The doors were hanging limp from the hinges, forming a crumpled barrier to the interior.
“Sybelle, dearest, please make an entrance for me. I just had my coat dusted, and I must look good for Nursey. “
Sybelle shifted her bulk past her Master and crashed like an Iceberg through the mouldering detritus. An opening quickly appeared, allowing Seamus to nimbly skip inside, his torch illuminating the open spaces. Unidentifiable shapes detached themselves in alarm from the unwanted light, skittering into the further recesses of darkness.
Seamus cocked his head towards the soft sound that caught his attention.
“Down here, my silent companions. “ Seamus said while pointing towards the slightly illuminated corridor. The breeze seemed to pick up as though responding to his gesture, the smell of chemicals getting stronger. “Yes. Definitely down here.”
Seamus strode with purpose to his perceived destination. The smell of chemicals increasing with each step the light, while still wane, did increase to a more sickly consistency. His view of the room he entered was a slaughter house. Blood and body parts were plastered in liberal portions throughout the room. Seamus’ attention was now focussed on the slim figure in a hospital robe that was working with determined effort on something that was strapped to a restraining chair. Whimpers came in spurts from the unseen thing. “Please, no more. Let me go.” came a slurred female voice.
“Oh honey, it’s almost over. Now just say aaarrrrrggghhhhh!” The slim figures feminine voice shrieked in aping agony in harmony with the figure she tended. Slender fingers unclasped the restraining straps, and then there was a sickening sound of skin being stripped with speed from the body, now unclothed of its flesh the bloody corpse tumbled to the floor slapping the hard surface like fresh meat on a hard surface.
Turning to face Seamus was the rotting flesh of what was once a beauty. “Oh you naughty man, you’ve come before I’ve had a chance to change.” The Nurse tittered gaily. “No turn around while I change, and don’t look you naughty boy.” Her voice then became hard and nasty, “or I’ll just have to poke your eyes out.”
Seamus was taken aback. Without really understanding why he did so, he turned and gazed out the door at his crew. He could hear the soft sound of cloth dropping to the floor, and then he heard the sucking, tearing noise of old flesh being pealed off.
As he listened to the sounds of unearthly endurance, he gazed at his crew. With the addition of Nurse he now had eight companions. Faithful Sybelle stood with her head lolling loosely on her massive breasts. Behind her were his latest female companions, Missy Griselda and Madeline once time street walkers from Downward Road. His auditory senses now picked up the sound of sloshing liquid, he then heard sizzling and smelt an acidic tang in the air. Groans of pleasure came from behind him.
Tottering to and fro were his latest experiments, their gears and mutable flesh merged in perfect undead harmony. He was eager to see of these twin abominations would perform as directed. The Grimoire de Malice he found and decoded gave tantalising hints of what could be achieved, yet there seemed to be something elusive that he hadn’t yet grapsed. He must talk to Nicodem about it the next time he had a chance.
“Almost done sweetie!”
The final component of his crew was somewhat insubstantial. The ghostly outlines of a Grave Spirit and The Hanged rounded out his force. The Grave Spirit was the very one that had been grafted to the Grimoire. It had been a right royal battle to tame and bend the spirit to his will. He was a little hesitant about its reliability, but nothing ventured nothing gained was a good enough saying. Bobbing of its own volition was the Hanged. The whispers pouring forth in random spurts seared his soul, but it was all that it could do. It had no power over him.
“Ta. Dah! You can turn around now.”
The Nurse had finished whatever secret process was involved in maintaining her undying beauty. A beauty she was, and Seamus wished that she would be suitable and pliable to becoming his Belle, but alas another power was involved here. There was no doubting the benefits she would provide.
“Right oh! It’s off to work we go!” Sang Seamus as he and his companions made their way out onto the street. In the vacated room the lump of flesh on the floor made spasmodic jerks as it bleed to death. The lasts sounds in that room of horror were of the shadows that slipped in to take advantage of an opportunistic meal.
Master: Seamus, The Mad Hatter free
Soulstone Cache: 2 Final Soulstone Cache: 3
Grave Spirit – Totem, 1ss
Madame Sybelle – Minion, 6ss
The Hanged – Minion, 8ss
Nurse – Minion, 5ss
Rotten Belle – Minion:Griselda, 4ss
Rotten Belle – Minion: Madeline, 4ss
Necropunk – Minion: Deadgear, 3ss
Necropunk – Minion: Cogcorpse, 3ss
Bought Soulstones, 1ss