Come Into Darkness (13 page)

More struck his cheek, and Mario pulled back. Removing his hand from inside Krystelle’s skirt, he touched his face. His fingers came away bloody.

“What the…?”

“I’m sorry,” said Krystelle. “I can’t work like this…”

Mario looked up, and the actress’s eyes exploded in a fountain of dark blood. He raised his hands too late, and the sticky, red mess splattered his face and chest. He jumped back and cried out.

Laurie’s corpse flopped back on the sofa, her legs still open. The white cotton of her knickers also bloomed a sickly red. Blood seeped around the elastic and poured onto the sofa.

“Christ,” screamed Mario and leapt away.

“Very good, sir,” said Worth and threw the camera down. “Turns out I have some acting talent, too! The management will enjoy watching that.”

Mario fled from the room, knocking open the door and pounding into the hall.

“You can’t leave yet, Mr. Fulcinni,” Worth called after him. “We have more to come!”

Mario slid to a halt at the front door and grasping the golden handle, pulled it wide. He expected the street to be gone, finding the corridor at Metus House. His memory had splashed back into his mind, and he anticipated the head games to come…

The street had indeed gone, but the kaleidoscope that greeted him was no corridor.

12

The room matched the size of the cavern, with a high ceiling and a perimeter hidden in darkness. The floor contained a wide circle, full of dazzling tiles that shone red, blue or green.

Mario raised his hand to his eyes to block the glare and stepped over the threshold.

His footsteps echoed on the black, lacquered floor as he walked around the colourful circle. The size of a tennis court, the psychedelic mosaic dominated the room. At its centre lay a pit, around three metres in diameter. The whole design looked like an eye.

Mario stopped in the silence and glanced back. The door from which he’d entered had vanished, leaving only the smooth wall behind. He shook his head and proceeded to walk around the tiles.

Quiet. Alone. Time to think my way out of this.

On the far side, he gazed up at four LCD televisions fixed to the wall. All were turned off and stared back with blank faces.

Mario sensed another of Worth’s imminent games and quickened his pace before the fun began. Keeping close to the wall, he burst into a run.

There has to be another door. Has to be! If I can get out in time, get beneath their radar…

He thought of them in the plural. It had been easy to point his confusion and anger at Worth; just one man who could be grabbed, shaken and struck. A place of this magnitude and dark mystery needed more than a lone guide to operate. The blonde henchman for one, and the elusive management, handing down their decrees like gods and watching the drama unfold. What act was this? Two? Act three closes with a death or a marriage, Mario remembered from drama class. He had no intentions of either.

Find the damn door!

He ran faster, feet pounding the hard floor and echoing. He stopped, back at the televisions.

There are no doors. Only the hole.

He turned to face the bright circle again, reluctantly intrigued. He’d been manoeuvred around the games of the House board by board by unseen players.

Nowhere else to go but down the hole, like Alice after the rabbit.

Mario closed his eyes, tired of Wonderland.

The noise of static burst into the quiet.

Mario flinched and turned around.

The television on the far right had switched on, its screen filled with an electrical snowstorm. Mario stepped closer to the source of the hiss, gazing up. The snow eased, revealing the dark void of space. Worth’s face appeared, staring back. He studied Mario with his brown eyes, the occasional flicker of static lending them an extra bright malevolence.

“Mr. Fulcinni,” said the guide from the speaker. He flashed a dry smile. “Where
have
we run off to?”

Mario sighed and bowed his head. The fear, the running, the sense of…eternity, had taken their toll. The endless night had added weights to his limbs and heart.

“Run rabbit run!” said Worth. “Why are the young so slow to learn these days? Why, when I was a boy a clip round the ear from my father was all I needed. Running, sir, gets you nowhere. I hoped you’d have learned that for yourself by now, but you never were a bright spark…”

“Why are you doing this?” said Mario. “No one pays for this! Just…just let me go.” He swallowed. “Please.”

Worth stroked his moustache and looked off screen.

“Why
are
we doing this, the actor asks… Until you find the answer to that, sir, I guess we’ll be enjoying your company a little bit longer.”

Madness circled Mario like a tiger among the trees.

“I keep doing what you say, even when I don’t want to or know what I’m doing,” said Mario. He sat on the floor, defeated. “So why haven’t you let me go?”

The picture distorted and split. For a moment, twin Worths stared out before merging back together.

“Because you haven’t learned yet! You try my patience, sir, you really do.” He smiled. “But I like you. And because of that, I’ve decided to give you a moment’s break. Sit back and relax.”

“I don’t have a choice,” said Mario. “There’s no way out.”

“Patience, patience. The way out isn’t yours to find.”

Worth raised his hand. He held a remote control and pressed a button.

“There are other people who haven’t learned yet…”

Sensing movement behind him, Mario looked back and climbed to his feet.

The tiles traded colours, reminding Mario of the dance floor in a retro seventies disco he knew. The ground throbbed, and a hum resonated from the centre of the room.

No.
Mario staggered back.
Not more machines…

A platform eased into sight, rising from the depths of the round pit. A figure, dressed in black, lay on its side, facing away from Mario. The platform slowed to a stop.

“How touching,” said Worth. “Our players reunited once more.”

The figure moaned and rolled over.

“Jesus,” said Mario. “Kerry?”

She lay on her back, passed out. Her suit had gone, replaced with a tight, black uniform. A hat was set on her head, concealing her hair.

She groaned in her slumbers once more.

“Miss Foster!” Worth called. “Time to rise and shine. You have your wish! It’s time for you to play…”

First her past.

Now her present.

“Kerry,” Mario called. “Don’t move!”

The tiles continued to swap and change, cycling the colours. Red-blue-green. Blue-green-red.

“Miss Foster,” said Worth again. “I don’t know. You try and give them what they want and they stay sleeping.” He sighed.

Kerry’s eyelids fluttered. Her arms flopped out by her sides and pressed against the platform. Her head rose a few inches. “Wha…?”

“There we are,” said Worth, clapping his hands. “All awake now!”

“Don’t move,” Mario shouted. “Stay down.”

“Don’t listen to him,” said Worth. “He’s no fun. We have work to do.”

Kerry sat up, her head sluggish and hanging down. A red band had been placed on her upper right arm. It displayed a black swastika in a white circle.

Mario gazed up at the screen.

Worth looked back at him. “I agree. A Nazi is a little…extreme, but the management found it amusing.”

Kerry tilted her head towards the men. “Where…where…am I?”

“Ah, the sedative has worn off,” said Worth. “If you feel you’re with us, kindly stand, Miss Foster. We shall discuss the present circumstances of your life before we begin. I do hope it’s as illuminating as your past!”

Mario stepped forwards. “Stay down. If he wants you to stand, that’s the last thing you should do.” He approached the edge of the multicoloured circle.

“Mr. Fulcinni!” Worth roared, the volume of the television spiking. “I really wouldn’t do that.”

Mario halted. Kerry had stood, and wobbled on her feet. The uniform fit with her sharp features and cold eyes.

“Take your break, sir,” said Worth. “Sit this one out. It doesn’t concern you.” He looked up, focused on Kerry. “Now Miss Foster, you finally get your wish. Your next room. Let’s assess the current situation, shall we?” He cleared his throat. “Since joining SM Pharmaceuticals, young executive Kerry Foster has risen through the ranks to become a partner in the firm as well as a manager. Tough and uncompromising, Kerry is the main driving force behind our many corporate takeovers. In her free time away from the boardroom, Kerry enjoys fine wine and classical music. That sound accurate?”

Kerry staggered, and her shiny boots stopped close to the edge of the platform.

“Careful,” said Worth, eyebrows raised. “We don’t want to start the fun prematurely. Now…” He showed a piece of paper he’d been holding off screen. “That was taken from your page on the SM Pharmaceuticals website today. I feel it paints a modest picture. I mean, fine wine and classical music?” He sniggered. “I don’t think you could get any more…what’s the word…yuppy? Where’s the violence? Where’s the blood?”

Kerry shut her eyes for a moment and then opened them wide. To Mario, she appeared drunk, but sobering with every passing minute.

Good. She needs a clear head.

“What?” She swallowed. “What do you want? I…I just want to go now…”

Worth burst into laughter. The picture split once more.

“And Miss Foster always gets what she wants,” he said, reforming. “Just a rags to riches princess that believes her own hype. Well…” He leaned back. “Lessons must be learned. For one that loves to make decisions, to have control, we’re going to give you exactly what you crave.”

The frantic colour change of the tiles came to a sudden stop.

“Now that’s done,” said Worth, “let’s meet the contestants!”

Worth used the remote control again, this time, directed to his left. The three televisions turned on.

“In the blue room, we have…” Worth consulted his paper. “A Miss Amy Childs. Remember her?”

Kerry stood still, looking dazed.

“Miss Foster, do you remember her?”

She frowned.

Come on, Kerry.
Mario paced the border of the tiles, impotent in the proceedings.
Focus.

“I don’t think so…”

“Well, she remembers you,” said Worth. “Let’s take a look at her, see if it jogs your memory.”

The screen next to Worth’s flickered, as if changing channels. Within a blue frame, a woman in her twenties stared out. Her hands pushed against a sheet of glass, like she had literally been trapped inside the television.

“Amy Childs. A worker for a cancer charity.”

To Mario, she appeared to be of the
good girl
type he’d seen shaking a collection bucket and taking donations on the city streets. In a woollen cardigan adorned with badges, the girl slowly looked left and right, thick, curly brown hair sweeping her shoulders. Tears rolled down her cheeks. Mario noticed she had quite an innocent, wide-eyed face. Childlike. The girl had never seen evil and lived in the hope that all was right in the world. Possibly.

“Recognise her now?” said Worth.

Staring at the screen, Kerry shook her head.

“Then allow me. Last year, Miss Childs was part of a peaceful protest at your offices following the release of your latest cancer drug. Not only was the research a little…immoral, but the drug that cost pennies to make had an incredible mark up, a mark up you had a hand in. Only certain Primary Care Trusts could afford the drug, so depending on where you lived decided if you could be treated. Miss Child’s father, and his throat cancer, unfortunately had the wrong post code.”

Kerry wiped her brow. “I don’t…This has nothing to do with me!”

Worth stroked his moustache. “Really?”

“It’s business,” said Kerry. “I do what’s best for the company. Besides, if it wasn’t for us, there wouldn’t be a drug!”

“And when the protest in the car park stopped you getting to your car, was it best for the company to have some of them arrested?”

Kerry blinked. “I…I…”

Worth cheered. “Now she remembers. What else?”

“Was she…oh…she was that girl…” Kerry pulled off the hat, and her hair fell free. She dropped the hat onto the platform.

“Yes,” said Worth, “
that
girl. The girl who, at the police station, was placed with another woman, high as a kite. Violent…Miss Childs spent weeks drinking her meals through a straw after her jaw was broken.”

“I heard about it,” said Kerry.

Mario continued to pace.

Ah shit, Kerry.

How do they find all this stuff? Can they really scour the depths of our minds?

“I didn’t know she was going to get beat up, did I?” Kerry screamed. “It was the fault of the police.”

“But,” said Worth. “It was
your
decision that affected her life so drastically. As it will again tonight. See?”

Mario returned his attention to the screen with the blue frame. The camera panned back. Amy Childs stood in a large tank, banging her fists against the glass.

“What’s this?” said Mario. “What have you done?”

“Oh,” said Worth, glancing down. “Is this concern? Finally?” He chortled. “I noted none of this when you pulled the lever and condemned your poor father…”

“My father deserved it. This is just a girl.”

Worth grinned. “Exactly. Just a girl. So why not? It gets better. Behind door number two, we have…”

The next television flickered on, showing a close-up of an elderly man. His head hung low, and with his droopy cheeks, his face looked half-melted. Some kind of metal bowl was strapped to his head.

“Mr. Thomas,” said Worth. “A former caretaker at the SM buildings.”

Kerry rubbed her forehead and groaned. “I know him.”

Mario crept away from the tiles and back to the wall. He felt along the cold surface, fingers eager to catch a hole, a crack, anything that might indicate a way out.

Keep him talking, Kerry. If his attention is off me for long enough…