Endless Living Organ Massacre by Derek Heath

Author:Derek Heath [Heath, Derek]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2023-12-15T00:00:00+00:00

20

The boy stood shakily over the monitors, gripping the edge of the horseshoe-shaped desk with both hands. His body was weak and shivered uncontrollably; even the task of lifting the overturned office chair at his feet seemed like too much effort.

As his eyes moved from one screen to the next, the limp splotch of pinkish flesh on the floor behind him twitched wetly. A collection of half-chewed nubs that had once been fingers were scattered around the savaged clump of palm that remained. Blood pooled around them.

The monitors were ancient and bulky, each screen bulging out in the middle and framed with clamps of matte grey plastic. Any identifying marks or model numbers had been sanded off the machines, but many of the screens had been dressed with a small circular sticker labelling it with a number from one to twenty-four. Screens one, three, five-through-nine and a bunch of the high teens were dead, which the boy supposed probably had something to do with the frayed wires above him. The desk itself and the tops of the monitors were covered with a thick blanket of dust.

On screen two (the sticker was peeling, but the permanent marker had blistered a lazy black Z onto the monitor beneath as though whoever had written it had done so after sticking it to the plastic) was a hazy image of the subterranean chamber where he had woken up. He could only make out vague shapes, but the door he’d come through was there on the left, and he could see the flash of a ladder poking down on the right.

The heaps of organic matter and bone piled up against the walls seemed to be moving, throbbing on the grainy black-and-white screen.

“Is this live?” he whispered to himself as his eyes flitted to the next working screen. Here the camera seemed to have been positioned behind the counter of an abandoned store; there were coils of rope hung on hooks on the far wooden wall, and the shelves were mostly empty; a sparse collection of what looked like power tools made for square, boxy shapes in the shadows.

Screens ten and sixteen seemed to show the same room from different angles: from what he could see, it was a large, round chamber with enormously high walls and hooded halogen lamps swinging slowly from the ceiling. The floor was made of plated steel and in the centre of the room a wide, round grille – about six or seven feet across, perhaps – covered a whirring bloom of shadows that he presumed was some kind of spinning fan.

The walls were covered in blood. Thick, dark gobs of it oozed down, black and dry and stained permanently.

Another screen showed what looked like a schoolyard, fenced off: through the chain-links he saw shambling white-skinned shapes clawing at each other. Dozens of them, some ripped open so that their guts spilled out, others missing limbs or heads. He shuddered.

Three screens at the bottom of the flickering bank seemed to deliver a feed of various darkened hallways and corridors in the building he was currently in.

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