A haunted, abandoned school. Dust coats the walls and the creaks of windows and doors are like the muscled cries of children. Spider webs cling to my clothes, yet not even they are capable of surviving in an environment such as this. Something else is living here. Something deeper and impossible to stop.
I don't know where this place is located, but the dark, winding halls are like a maze as we step past doors into crawlspaces and emerge in dank kitchens with black mold sprouting from every surface. We hold our breaths, this man and I, he's unrecognizable yet somehow my heart pounds every time he speaks, breathes, or exists within my line of sight. He's kind, helping me up large steps, walking ahead and checking corners. Standing close and prepared every time a new sound arises.
He and I don't carry weapons, both trusting in each other's abilities and trusting in our underlying hope that the rumours of this nightmarish-appearing building are all fake.
A gurgle, deep and moist, erupts from down the hall, rageful and I'm immediately yanked in the opposite direction. This man's hand, slowly shifting into Antonio's as we sprint, drags me through doors, kicking them open, knocking them off their hinges, sending dust airborne in the process. He leads me through cramped crawlspaces filled with dead animals and dried blood, up through latches infested with mould and dead termites. Until finally, we break out into the humid, night air. A deep, grueling roar vibrating from within the building. He slams the door shut behind us, and we don't slow until long after we've returned home.
Our apartment is a small little thing, second floor in a six floor building, damp, occasionally has bug and mice problems, water damage here and there. But in this very moment, the most petrifying aspect of it all, is that the massive windows in our living room have a clear view of that demonic beast as it exits the school down the street. It must be at least seven or eight feet tall, arms reaching the floor, covered in pulsing veins, legs burly and beast-like, sinking into the hard rock below it with every step, its head has four sets of teeth, all razor sharp, all massive as they protrude from his blood-soaked mouth. Their eyes are massive, like somebody drew them on his head with no idea on the other proportions, and they lock on us.
In under three minutes, he will reach us.
We managed to get back to the campsite late last night, other than the herbalists working on production, everyone else was already asleep. One of them even told us that the clients enjoyed the products so much that they are now being forced to produce several tons more, something that I'm aware we definitely do not have the facilities for, both for the production of the actual drugs and the space and supplies to replace them with the energy drinks, and now we're down a person as well since Pierre is in Qorboon.
"Tie him down and feed him his heart!"
"What the fuck?" I mumble, jolting awake at the sudden commotion rising not too far from our tent. Antonio is sitting up beside me, eyes squinted and bags deep as he yawns, ears twitching in the direction of the rising voices.
"Perhaps a traitor?" He mumbles casually, rubbing his eyes, his scar bending with the movements.
A radiating, metallic bang rings out, like a steel pipe against a rusty chair, grunts and cheers manage to reach us, the warehouse acting as a massive speaker. We don't rush but our curiosity leads us to inspect what is going on. The heat is high outside, mirages forming all around us, making it appear as though we are trapped on an island. Yet the water is always just out of reach.
When we peer inside the warehouse, we find a young man, already unclothed and drenched in gasoline, tied to a metal chair, struggling and screaming out, as someone steps towards him with a nail gun, pinning him to the chair. Starting with his legs, each cry, curse, and plead grows louder, more gurgled as they slowly make their way up to his chest. Once they reach his lungs, a thick, pinkish fluid begins to spill out of his mouth, choking him as they skip past his heart and throat and begin nailing his face. His lips are instantly ripped apart and sealed by the thick pieces of steel, his nose is pierced clean into his face, his eyes are turned to mush, and they skip past his brain, his screeching growing muffled as his decorated body paints itself red.
His life seeps out of him in an instant, leaving nothing behind other than his metal filled, shriveled up corpse. The crowd disperses within seconds, their attention now disinterested in the actions that have just taken place before them.
The lower ranked individuals, however, begin working on cleaning up and packing up the body right away, managing to pry it out of the chair just as we finally catch up to them, asking, "What happened here?"
They jump in an instant at Antonio speaking to them, as though they're afraid they may have been caught doing something they were not supposed to. "Oh um, he's just a random guy that decided to poke around and steal a few things, we caught him pretty quickly though. Got what he deserved."
Fuck me.
If we were caught back when we were destroying their vehicles then they definitely wouldn't have hesitated to murder us, no escape, no talking our ways out of it, just instant alarms sounding and being brutally disfigured.
"Where are Shushi and Leon?" Antonio shifts the subject acting unbothered by the actions taken before us. The group of three people all point towards the staircase, resuming with their work not a moment later as we walk away.
Leon and Shushi are seated in the office, devouring handfuls of snacks and sipping on their teas as though this may be the last meal they ever have. When they notice us, they don't stop what they're doing but they do stare at us with unblinking eyes as they do it.
They're dilated.
And their breathing is rapid, unsteady, shallow.
I squint, aware that with the help of my hidden face, I'm able to scrutinize without fear of them catching on to my judgement. These fucking idiots got high on their own supply, knowing the side effect is madness.
Honestly, they deserve whatever is coming to them.
But Antonio doesn't hesitate, doesn't show even an air of judgement, instead, he takes a seat, folds his hands in front of him, and speaks, "It's about time we have a meeting."
They force themselves to act natural, those with these sorts of people there is no such thing as natural. When they stare at him, it's like their eyes are reading his soul, his pupils are taking in every bit of information regarding his existence, his experience, trauma, skills, likes and dislikes.
But when he speaks, it's clear to both of us, there are no thoughts behind those eyes. They've already succumbed to their own product, the product that they know the side effects for, the withdrawal effects.
I don't know what happened that led to this, perhaps they were poisoned, drugged, grabbed the wrong liquid when going to hydrate.
"The ROY Alliance have agreed to begin purchasing our newest products, though under the request that only the primary distributors handle communications going forward, which is understandable considering their security standards."
"I'd say we invade them!" Shushi shouts, slamming his fists on the tables before laughing maniacally.
"We should fuck their women!" Leon adds, matching Shushi's energy.
"There aren't any," Antonio shakes his head, rolling his eyes as he watches their erratic movements. "And I'd expect us to remain on topic, we need to produce millions of more tons of our newest product on top of the drug we've already been providing, we don't have the space nor the manpower for all of it."
"It'll be fine! The herbalists can handle it, they'll do nights until the deadline!" Either Shushi or Leon spoke, but at this point, I have no idea as their voices and madness slowly fuse together into one, two-brain celled mind.
This isn't going to go well, there's still so much more information to collect, and two of our major informants have just drugged themselves into eventual madness. We're never going to get sufficient information at this rate.