Rescue from Planet Pleasure by Mario Acevedo

Author:Mario Acevedo [Acevedo, Mario]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Mario Acevedo, vampire, mystery, alien sex, satire, conspiracies, supernatural, thriller, noir, hard-boiled, space travel, magic, psychic phenomenon, New Mexico
Publisher: WordFire Press
Published: 2016-09-14T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-six

I fixed my stare directly into Moots’ white, bottomless eyes. How did she know I was planning to escape?

Moots returned my gaze with laser-like intensity. But good luck to her if she wanted to win a staring contest with a vampire.

Everything in the room seemed to rotate on the axis of our glare. After a long, dramatic moment, she broke focus and withdrew her hand from around my neck.

“Very well,” she said. “So you’re not planning to escape?”

“How could I?”

“I don’t know. I still haven’t figured how you and Jolie got here. There’s no record of you two being processed through inventory control or alien-species quarantine.”

“Is that my fault?”

A loud huffing distracted us. One of the other Nancharm—head tendrils fluffing in agitation—stared at Moots and pointed at Toby as if asking Are you done? Can we get back to work?

Moots emitted an irritated chuff through her translator-cap. She turned to Carmen. “I’m holding you responsible.”

Carmen crossed herself. “Felix will behave himself. Scout’s honor.”

One of the other two Nancharm got busy with the menu on the holographic control panel. The cockroach device on the pedestal chewed and swallowed the gauzy wrapping on Toby’s hand. His fingers splayed apart. A red gash ran up his wrist, a wound maybe four inches long. The exposed flesh was red and raw but didn’t bleed. The cockroach’s mandibles oozed yellow goop into the wound, then began to ratchet along the gash, stitching it closed.

The straps holding Toby popped loose and retracted into the table. His body stiffened and elongated as if in rigor mortis, but his eyes still shined with life. An arm swung up from the foot of the table. The end of the arm had a leathery three-fingered claw. A similar arm extended from the head of the table. Both sets of claws clamped on him, one on his feet, the other around his skull. He was lifted and rotated like a pig on a spit until he faced the table. His other hand was now closer to the cockroach device. It repeated the first-aid procedure, and the wounds on both of Toby’s wrists were mended.

“All done?” I asked.

“Not yet,” Moots replied.

The cockroach device folded its legs tight to its body and scooted away from the table. Another device slid forward. This one looked like a praying mantis. The Nancharm must really be into bugs.

The triangular head of this device swiveled, its antennae twitched, and the two bulging eyes opened to reveal binocular lenses that zoomed in on the scars down Toby’s spine and at the back of his neck. The mantis’ arms stretched forward, and a multitude of blades unfolded from the ends, Edward Scissorhands-style. Toby’s shirt was cut to ribbons and the shredded cloth was sucked up a tube to expose his naked torso.

As the blades approached the back of Toby’s neck, my skin started to crawl. Two blades extended past the others, glowed red, and touched his neck scars. The tips of the blades sank into his skin. Toby gulped and spit drooled from his lips.

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