I should start this by saying I’m not a detective anymore.
After the events at the warehouse, I was paged to visit my direct supervisor, Sgt. Langley. She was sitting behind a mahogany desk when I came in, gazing at some sort of file. She looked up at me. “What the hell was that, Jonathan?”
“We were underprepared, ma’am.” I replied.
She glared at me from across the room. “We have a man missing, and a severe casualty! How underprepared were you? Did you not take any precautions at all?”
“With all due respect, you weren’t there, ma’am.” I said, upset. “Nothing could have prepared me for what I saw down there. How would you expect someone to perform at their peak, faced with . . . that.”
She sighed and looked down at the file, eyes skimming over the words. “The brass is asking I let you go, for the moment.”
“You can’t seriously thi-“ I began to say.
She held up a palm. “Look, the media is all over this. For everyone’s sake, including you,” she jabbed a finger at me, “it’s best that you stay out of this for the time being.”
I stared at her. She stared back, and raised an eyebrow. I considered my options, and begrudgingly decided to hand over my badge and gun. Langley smiled again. “Look. This will all blow over soon. Just take a rest for a while, hmm?”
I didn’t respond.
I left her office. It was twelve, and I had nothing to do besides worry about all that was going on.. So I went home and slept. I was exhausted after the past few days, after all.
I awoke to my doorbell ringing. I was in that half-asleep state, so I covered my head with a pillow, hoping that whoever it was would go away. The doorbell rung again. I shifted position in my bed, and checked my watch. Four o’clock. I was more tired than I thought.
The doorbell rung again.
I slowly got up and made my way to the door, brushing the sleep from my eyes. The door opened to reveal a scruffy-haired, lanky teenage kid, who looked to be about eighteen. He nodded at me, while smiling politely.
“What do you want?” I said, not-so-politely.
“Uh, yeah. I’m meant to drive you to this place. I mean, that is if you want to go.” He said.
I looked at him, trying to discern if he was serious or not. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”
He shrugged. “I’m not really sure. Someone came up to me and offered five hundred bucks to ask you to come with me. But you don’t have to come, either. I’ve been told to say the decision is up to you.” A look of remembrance flashed across his face. “Oh, yeah. I’m supposed to give this to you as well.”
He pulled a well-folded piece of paper out of his pocket and handed it to me. I opened it up, and read the words scrawled inside.
Heard you’re out of work!
You should come join my zoo. We’re always in need of more Zookeepers. :)
The boy peered at me from behind the paper. “So what is it then? Are you coming or not?”
I stared at him, blankly.
What do I say? How does whoever wrote this note know I lost my job anyways? It only just happened. This is obviously a trap anyways. The kid could even be on it. The last time I followed one of these notes, I lost a man, and almost got another killed. So what, then? Should I go or stay?
I looked back at the kid. “Yeah, I’m coming.”
The kid drove with that careful rigidness that all first-year drivers seem to have. He drove for a while, slowly taking me out of town and into the rural back areas of my city. It took another thirty minutes of driving along long stretches of road the land becoming quieter and more desolate, before he pulled up onto a gravel pathway, which seemed to be the entrance of a much larger farm. I looked at the sign as he drove me in.
Winston’s Family Orchard.
The gravel pathway diverted further up the track, and he took the right road. It ended up at what looked to be a farmhouse. There were lights on inside, and I heard the whir of machinery in the massive shed behind it. The kid stopped the car.
“This is your stop. Hope you have a great evening, sir.” He cheerfully said, allowing me enough time to get out of the car before he drove back down the pathway.
I watched him until the headlights dipped below the horizon, before making my up the steps and onto the veranda. I could hear voices inside the house. Talking, laughing. It sounded like any house at dinnertime. Unsure of what to do, I knocked at the door.
The voices stopped.
I heard the soft pad of someone walking barefoot on hardwood towards me. The door opened. A man came out from behind it, he was of average height, cropped hair, and with three-day-stubble beginning to show. He stared at me with a faraway look in his eyes, before smiling, and gesturing for me to come in. “Glad you could make it! Dinner is just ready. Why don’t you come join us?” His voice was deep and intoned, and familiar.
Very familiar.
“I . . . I know you.” I said. More of an accusation than a fact. I thought back to the memories of the night I found my sister. The paramedic who passed me the note that started all of this. The paramedic who always seemed to be gazing of into the distance. No. No just gazing. Searching.
He tilted his head slightly. “Well, I’m happy to hear that! Makes acquaintances a bit more easier, then. Come on, you look hungry, let’s eat!”
I didn’t move. “I’m not going to fucking eat with you!” I yelled at him. “You killed my sister!”
He looked at me questioningly. “No. No. I didn’t. I’m just a Keeper. You’ve got this all wrong. She-“
“I don’t give a damn what you have to say!” I retorted.
“Hey, buddy. Let’s calm down and talk this over a meal. I’m serious. Come and join us.” And with that he walked back down the hallway. He turned left, into what I assumed was the dining room. I heard a couple of hushed voices, and scraping chairs. It seemed people were leaving.
I had two options. I could go in and find out what was going on. Or I could leave and forget about all of this. There was one problem, however. I would never be able to forget. The pain would never go away. The horrors of what I saw could not be forgotten.
I walked inside.
I entered the room I saw the paramedic go through. Inside there was a table, set like it was ready to feed a large family. There was a roast lamb in the middle, with a few cuts already sliced from it. Around it there was various side dishes and drinks. There was a man seated at the head of the table, directly opposite to where I was. It seemed everyone else had left.
The man spoke. His voice was rich and pronounced. “Isn’t great that we can finally meet, Jonathan? I have so much that I would like to tell you.”
”. . . and who are you?” I asked.
He chuckled. “All in due time.” He waved his hand at me. “Come. Sit. Eat. Anything you’d like. I do recommend the steamed asparagus, however. Bonnie really outdid herself there.”
I remained standing.
He seemed unfazed, and continued to speak. “Now, I would like to remind you that you came here of your own accord, and you may leave whenever you feel like. We are not forcing you to stay here, but I so would enjoy your company.” He leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his stomach. “Now, before I start waffling on. Is there any questions you would like to ask? Any burning thing you would like to know?”
It didn’t take me long to think of a question. “Why’d you do it? Why did you kill all these people?”
He paused for a moment, seemingly disappointed. “Straight to those questions, are we?” He sighed. “Look around at the world, what do you see? All I see is death. You, of all people should know that. People die all the time. Hundreds a second. Thousands a minute. So what does it matter that I take a few more lives? It’s just a drop in the bucket of death.”
He stood up. “And when people die, it’s useless. Everything that they’ve ever done amounts to nothing in the void of eternity. But it’s not just that. As a species, we are bringing ourselves closer to death every day. We cannot make the right choices. Ever. So, on behalf of all of us, I’m choosing.”
I shook my head in disbelief. “Choosing what? You’re just torturing people to the point of death! How is that supposed to solve anything?”
“Do you still not yet understand?” His voice rose. “I am saving us all! I am leading the charge in the evolution of our species! In due time, I will be revered all around the world, as the one person who saw what was right, and had the guts to do it!” He turned around to face me. “The first few deaths were unfortunate, yes. But they have helped the cause beyond anything you can dream of! I am so close to creating the perfect being. The savior of our species!” He looked at me, jabbing a finger in my direction. “And you will join me! Become a Keeper and embrace the new world!”
I was silent for a while. This guy is insane. I thought. Join him? Who the hell does he think he is? I’m leaving the first chance I get. But I had one more question I wanted to ask him.
“Why me? Out of all the people you could have chosen, why me?”
He smiled widely, and let out a low laugh. “All of these smarts, and yet you couldn’t figure that out? I didn’t choose you. Look at you, quivering in a corner. There are so many more suitable prospect then you.” He said with a hint of disgust. “Now tell me, what makes you think I choose you?”
“I don’t know! The notes. . .my sister. You just seemed to be interested in me.” I said.
He chuckled again. “You really don’t know, do you? Tell me, how often would your sister go for a walk at midnight?”
”. . .I’m not sure. Never, I suppose.”
“Then what was she doing that night?”
The question struck me as odd. I had never thought about what she was doing, only about how it happened. I could never figure it out. The only way it seemed possible for her to disappear, was if she had let it happen. But I ruled that one out early. She wouldn’t just let herself get kidnapped, right?
Right?
The man arched an eyebrow at my silence. “You deserve the truth. Everyone does. Some people like to hide their secrets behind shadows and dark corners, praying they don’t see the light of the day. I am not one of them. I strive to be open and honest in all that I do. I long for a world with no lies because there is nothing to lie about. Everyone is accepted. Everyone is valued. If you need proof, have I not told you my exact location twice now?”
“That’s hardly fair. You shot at us the first time.” I said.
“I did not shoot at you. You were just there. Look, I will explain to you everything. But first, I require something of you.” He picked up a mug and started sipping at it. “Your loyalty. Tell me, Jonathan, will you join me?”
“You’re out of your mind if you think I want any part of this.” I said, resolutely.
A smile curled at the edge of his lips. “A pity.” His eyes traveled down my body, seemingly gazing in everything. “Look at you, always slithering into situations you shouldn’t have to be in. I think you’ll make a fine snake.”
I heard a shuffle behind me, and turned around just in time to see a metal bar being swung at my face. It connected with my forehead with a loud crack, sending me flying backwards onto the ground.
Pain.
That was the first thing I remember from when I woke up. Hot, searing pain, burning throughout my body and culminating in my forehead.
Pain.
A throbbing sensation that shook my body with every strangely-prominent beat of my heart, blurring my vision and deafening my eardrums.
Pain.
The metal floor was cold beneath me, drenched in my sweat. My arms were held down by some sort of shackle on each side, limiting my movement.
I was trapped.
With a killer.
I panicked. I thrashed my arms against the shackles, on the blind hope that I’d be able to free myself. The pain on my arm increased, and probably caused a bruise. I yelled out in pain, but discovered I was gagged with a piece of cloth.
“Struggling’s just going to make it worse, you know.” A voice said behind me. The man’s voice from the dinner table. “Like I said before, you are free to leave whenever you wish. But since you won’t give me your loyalty, I’ll have to settle with something else.” He walked around into my line of vision, holding what looked to be a saw. “I’ll make this quick, but I have to warn you, I don’t like using anesthetic. The body should feel pain. It’s natural. How else would it learn to heal?”
He walked around to the other side of me, and turned on a camera that was held up on a tripod facing me. The lights blinked to signify that it was recording. He came back to me, and placed the teeth of the saw on my left arm, in the pit on the opposite side of the elbow. “Now, snakes don’t have arms. So, I’ll start with that.”
I struggled against the binds again. Adrenaline coursed through my veins from the fear, with no way to use it. Panic was setting in, and the human body’s core instinct is self-preservation. And I was doing the best I could to get away from this.
“Don’t struggle, Jonathan. It just makes it take longer. It’ll be over soon. I promise.” He said, in a calm, steady voice.
And with that he pushed the saw downwards. My body screamed with pain, and my visioned blackened. I could feel blood seep out of the incision across the arm.
He continued to bring the saw downwards. Pushing it forwards and backwards, cutting through veins and arteries. I felt him hit bone. He continued to cut, I could feel the vibrations of my humerus being split in two.
I lost consciousness for the second time that evening.
When I came to my gag was gone. And my arm. The remaining stump was wrapped up in a torniquet and bandaged at the end. Everything still hurt, but much worse than before. Much, much worse. The man was still standing there, behind the camera. He seemed happy to see me awake.
“Had a good nap, then?” He walked over to where I was laying down, and held my remaining hand in his. “Everyone deserves a choice. Free will is what defines us. So I’m going to give you a choice. You could get up and leave right now, and work for me, or have your other other arm removed and your legs stitched together. It’s completely up to you!”
Work for a madman. Or die to a madman. Self-preservation is stronger than dignity. “I. . .want to work for you.” I said, struggling between breaths.
“Very good! Let’s get you out of those binds shall we?” He plucked a key from his pocket and swiftly unlocked them, I tried to sit up, and promptly fell back down, my head spinning.
The man started to walk away. “Now, I’m going to begin your induction, you may feel free to leave or explore the house whenever you feel like. If you’re hungry there’s leftovers in the fridge. As I said, we’re not trapping you here.” He turned and smiled at me. “You’re going to enjoy this, Jonathan. Toodles!”
He left the room, and went up a few stairs that I hadn’t noticed before.. I took my time getting up, waiting until the earth stopped spinning under my feet. Walking felt strange without an arm, the weight was gone from there and I felt lopsided and unbalanced. I took in my surroundings. It was some sort of basement under the house, with different types of surgical equipment scattered around.
Besides that there was recording equipment scattered around and placed at various places. A few were still on, but most were turned off. There was a door to my left, and the staircase directly in front of me. There was a placard on the door with a single word on it.
Elephant.
I opened the door. It was dimly lit inside. The air smelled of musk and human waste. There was a small machine in the corner, lit up and whirring, with various cables hooked up to a large mound in the middle. The door slammed shut behind me.
The mound moved.
I took a step back out of fear. My focus shifted, and the horrible realization that I was looking at a person dawned on me. The person was extremely large, covered in layers of fat that rolled across their body. The person laboriously shuffled around to face me. The tubes from the machine connected into a mask that covered their mouth. The tubes continuously pumped a soft, gray liquid into the person’s mouth.
I had only seen something like this once before, when looking for a murderer who was hiding in an abandoned mental hospital. A force-feeder.
On either side of the mask, the person had two large metal spikes coming out of each nostril, and back out the side of their head. Judging by the scars surrounding them, the spikes were drilled inside the cranium, until they eventually came out the other side, through the nose.
I shuddered at the thought.
The person slowly made their way forwards, shoving themselves against the floor. The person looked up at me, directly into my eyes. I saw the pleading in them. The humanity. Asking to be set free. And I saw something else, a flicker of recognition. Of understanding. I looked closer, past what I didn’t want to see, past everything I didn’t want to think about and I saw a friend.
I saw Thompson.
He was battered and beaten, and larger than he used to be. But it was still him. I rested on his shoulder and cried. Long and hard. This, more than anything broke me. Thompson didn’t deserve this. No one does.
I glanced behind me, at the saw that cut off my arm. I stood up and grabbed it off the table, with my remaining hand. I brought it over to Thompson and held it over his face. His eyes grew misty, but he nodded, a slow and deliberate movement. He knew what it meant.
It was going to be hard to cut with only one available hand, so I opted for a large swing and used momentum to get the job done. A clean cut that severed his jugular and removed his life from his body.
I dropped the saw on the ground next to Thompson.
I made my way up the stairs and out of the front door. I had no shoes on, and the gravel road was tough under my feet. But I walked forwards. I was leaving, and nothing would stop me. The man had said so himself. And so I left.
But not forever.
I will be back.
For Thompson. For Alice.
I’ve got nothing left to lose and everything to gain.