The Nightmare Unleashed by J J Carlson

Author:J J Carlson [Carlson, J J]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: UNKNOWN
Published: 2018-09-02T22:00:00+00:00

21

The Palace, Central Siberia

Eugene’s consciousness returned in drug-addled waves—rushing forward to blurry awareness, then fading into a sea of blackness. His thoughts tumbled in his mind, lacking foundation or continuity. He didn’t know where he was, or where he had been when the darkness set in. As the distant light returned, he tried to move his limbs, but his body gave no response. There was no pain and there was no sense of weight. His consciousness seemed to float in the ether, unbridled by the laws of physics. His last thought before being dragged back into the void was, “I’d better not be dead.”

Minutes, or perhaps hours later, Eugene awoke. This time, he felt his eyelids struggling under their own weight and the stabbing pain in his left temple. Distorted shapes and colors danced through his vision, and he tried to rub his eyes. Something was pinning his wrists down, so he closed his eyes and waited for his head to stop spinning. Not dead, he thought. There’s no way Heaven hurts this much.

When he opened his eyes again, a long strip of red stood against a slate background. It was the red carpet—in the Throne Room. The recollection sent a jolt of electricity through his veins. Ignoring his headache, he glanced sharply around the room, searching for threats. Satin draperies and Terracotta soldiers came into focus, then the elevated throne.

“Welcome back,” said a voice, coarse with age. “It seems your mind is as resilient as your body.”

Eugene blinked. Steel bindings held his wrists and ankles to a chair. His shoulders rested inches away from the walls of a plexiglass box—a miniature, transparent prison cell. His clothes had been stripped off and replaced with black, skin-tight fabric that was polka-dotted with silver electrodes. Plastic tubes led to IVs in his wrists, and an endoscopic feeding line pumped food directly into his stomach. Spying the catheter between his legs, he winced and turned his head, then glimpsed something even more disturbing—a globe filled with shimmering black liquid perched on a pedestal a few feet away. A conduit led from the base of the globe to a box on the wall, and a plastic tube ran from the box to the back of Eugene’s head.

“That really isn’t necessary,” Eugene said, his voice thick. “I’m not a cyborg, so I don’t need motor oil to—”

“You’re wondering what the dark substance is,” Borya interrupted. “Do not worry, you will find out when the time is right.”

Eugene rolled his eyes. “Okay…and what are we supposed to do until then? Do you want to play twenty questions or—”

Borya interrupted again. “You’ve been restrained because you dared to lay hands upon my Empress. The glass is also for her protection; so that you may not use your words as weapons.”

Eugene frowned. “It’s soundproof? Does that mean you can’t hear me, you wrinkled sack of diapers?”

“I can hear you,” Borya said, showing no signs that he had been stung by the insult. “I am aware of everything that happens within my Palace.

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