The Spawning by Tim Curran

Author:Tim Curran
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Elder Signs Press
Published: 2010-11-20T23:00:00+00:00

13

COLONY STATION

IN THE DARKNESS OF his cell, Slim was not alone.

He was never alone. Not really. If he shut his eyes very tightly, sometimes he could pretend that he was alone. But even in his mind there was no such thing as solitude. There really had not been for some time now, but it had gotten worse since he was brought to Colony.

He did not remember how he had gotten to Colony.

He only had a distorted, sketchy idea of what his life was like before. But he did know it had gotten worse. There had been some kind of crash a long time ago. A plane? A helicopter? He wasn’t sure. He had been there with other men and seen something under a tarp. Something that had also seen him, even though it was quite dead in the biological sense of the term.

That had started it.

That was the seed that had slowly blossomed into his secret garden of dread and horror and insanity. There had been dreams and visions, weird compulsions . . . and faces, faces of people he should know but could not honestly remember. It was all so blurry. The only thing he really understood now was this place.

His cell.

The dark.

And Dr. Relling, of course. Her staff. The men and women in the white coats that strapped him to tables and injected him with things, sometimes dunked him into tanks of warm fluid . . . always asking him questions and making him tell them the things he saw.

They wanted to know about the floating place that was a place in-between places, a dreamworld where there was no up or down or left or right . . . just drifting matter and shapes and the things, those awful things that liked to play in his mind. It was different there. You could not touch things, you could not feel them. Everything was like smoke. Objects or things like objects could pass right through one another.

It had been like that for Slim.

While he drifted there in the ether, he had become disjointed . . . his atoms had refused to stay together. His arms floated away. His head detached itself from his body. Though he was not connected, he could move his severed, floating limbs. And when he screamed, it had come not from his mouth but from a place far, far away.

These are the things Dr. Relling’s people wanted to know about.

They wanted to know about the things, the Old Ones, the Elder Things, though the creatures did not call themselves this. The word they used could not be translated properly from those buzzing voices and piping cries.

Relling’s white-coated techies wanted to know where the Old Ones had come from originally. They wanted to know how they passed from this world to others. How they moved through solid matter and why when they died, their minds remained intact, bodiless and spectral, but alive and organized.

But Slim would not tell them.

The Old Ones told him things he would not dare repeat.

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