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| Mr. K & Dr. Hyde: Part 7; Numb | |
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| Topic Started: Aug 6 2007, 08:53 AM (205 Views) | |
| Baz | Aug 6 2007, 08:53 AM Post #1 |
Lodger
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K’s not in his room, but I do find a lot of odd gadgets and equipment lying about. Sure, K regularly had a collection of gadgets and gears here that would keep Mr. Spock guessing, but this stuff is beyond the norm. Or abnormal. You know what I mean. It’s a mess of modern day gear mixed with old apparatus, the kind of stuff you’d expect to find in some Dickension tale or H. G. Wells novel. He’s been a busy monkey. I pay it little attention really - not my bag, and K was always, well, odd when it came to devices of technology - and I move to leave his room. It’s then that I see a bottle filled with familiar looking fluid. The small glass beaker contains the same solution that was staining the edges of the drip hanging by my bed. I feel a wave of tension claw its way up my spine to make a nest behind my eyes. This is bad, very bad. I need facts. Hard evidence. My recon of the bedrooms, those I know to hold bodies, turns up nowt. Beth’s not at home. The guest room K’s witchy bitch auntie was stinking up is deserted. Even the new girl, ‘what’s her breast’s’, room is empty. I make for the downstairs. The rest is cold. I don’t remember how I got to find her, what I did before I stared into her cold, dead eyes, but I’ll never forget the look that was carved across her teenage face. …Dead… Meg. My little Megan. …Dead… There’s nothing serene about her expression; she’s agony sculpted in flesh. Her skin is still rosy, almost perfect, but I know she’s gone from the first glance. I can see her passing was terrifying, tell it was drawn out, delayed…monitored by uncaring eyes. …Dead… Her hands are almost clawed into the strange chair she’s been strapped into - a medieval torture rack has more charm. Her jaw… Her eyes… I don’t have to move behind her to know that the back of her skull has been removed – it sits, dusted in the dried powder of her blood, in a metal tray, the edges of the removed section perfect, medically exact. Next to the tray sits a bottle of the mystery solution, and a syringe. I know now, with cold certainty, who our foe is. I know who drugged Steve and me. I can see the face of the man who murdered Megan. And I know what I’m going to do to him. I know his passing is going to make Megan’s seem like a blessing. K. K is …Dead… |
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12:53 AM Nov 26