Friday, 25 February 2022

Kult: Broken Walls, episode 6: Hell

Take a moment to think.  Scorch marks around the mirror.  I call Beatrice in to see, because I'm probably going to do some pretty weird things in the immediate future and I need some kind of reason for it.  She comes in, reacts exactly as surprised as I expect, and then hands me a book.  She found it under Raven's mattress and it's not one of the moleskine notebooks he writes his poetry in.  It's leather bound, and as I flick through it I see symbols I recognise.  Symbols I saw burned into Lily-Rose's skin.  And he hasn't just been reading this.  There's footnotes all over it in his handwriting, and cross-references with other books.

What the fuck has he done?

Beatrice is looking at me.  So this is the point where I have to tell her that I think Raven's been messing with the occult, and that yes, I actually believe in that stuff.  I'm afraid he's done something really stupid.

It's pretty obvious he didn't leave via his front door, and this isn't the first strange thing I've seen in this flat.  There's something here and I can almost see it.  If I can just distort my perceptions enough maybe I can see through.  Which means I'm going to have to do something stupid too.

Raven's place has been tossed, so I can rule out most potential hiding places.  I find his stash in the bathroom, hidden behind a loose ceiling tile.  What looks like several grand's worth of pills, powders and things I don't even recognise.  I can't really explain to Beatrice why I think this is going to work, but as I sort through the stash I'm sure it will.  She is entirely willing to get high with me if that's somehow going to help Raven.

LSD then.  I've tried pretty much everything else in this bag, but that shit scares me.  Not something you should be messing with when your mental health is as bad as mine.  It doesn't help that it's not even on a blotter.  Just a bottle with a pipette.  Do I know the right dose of acid, Beatrice wants to know.  Of course not.  I get a sheet of toilet paper and drop one drop onto it, then tear it in half.  I'd love to tell Beatrice she can walk away right now and avoid getting mixed up in the mess that my life is becoming, but there's no point, is there?  She's never going to let me do this on my own.  We sit down on the bed, put the paper in our mouths and wait.

At first it just seems like the colours are getting brighter, and there's a moment where I think I've just condemned myself to an acid trip without anyone to look after me, but then I see it.  The other place occupying the same space as this flat.  The tall black buildings and the sharp sand underfoot.  And there, where the bathroom mirror should be, is a rip in reality.

Beatrice reacts first.  She's up off the bed, grabbing a knife from the kitchen counter, and is away through the tear.  I do the same, cursing myself for not bringing my gun, but then I could hardly explain to Beatrice why I was putting on a shoulder holster while she was helping with my flat.  The other kitchen knife is going to have to do.

It's hot.  Incredibly so.  Already I feel damp with sweat.  We're in a long corridor, with the sound of screaming in the distance, and Beatrice is understandably freaking out.  I hold onto her arm as she panics about the rip we came through disappearing.  How we're going to get out of here is a problem that can wait.  Right now we just need to find Raven and avoid running into anything that calls this place home.  I try to distract her with a bit of humour.  When she starts blaming me for her predicament, she should just remember that she came here by choice and nothing I could have said would have stopped her.  That seems to get through.  She makes me swear not to tell Raven that.  If he asks, I dragged her in here with me.  The last thing she needs is for him to be writing poetry about her as well.

I don't know how, but somehow I've got a feeling for where Raven is.  We walk, quickly and quietly along the corridor.  Beatrice burns herself on the wall, but manages to keep quiet until the corridor opens out into some kind of cathedral.  And I know I've been here before.  The altar.  The silken cloth.  Beatrice walks straight up to it and pulls it away, but this time there's no flayed corpse.  Just a mess of blood.  Beatrice trails a finger through it and looks back at me.

And then suddenly I'm angry.  What does she think she's doing?  I'm the one who got us here.  I'm the one who's been here before.  I run over and grab her arm, hard this time, telling her to stop and let me take the lead.  And everything goes dark.

We both hear the scuttling noises in the darkness.  Beatrice is freaking out again, wanting to know what it is.  Like I know that.  Whatever it is we're not staying here.  There are two other exits from this place besides the one we came in by.  I pick one at random and drag Beatrice towards it.  Then I hear Raven scream.

It's coming from the other exit.  I keep on dragging Beatrice, but now there's light again, enough to see four of the flayed corpses shuffling towards us.  Four.  And I emptied my gun into one of them at Paradise Gardens and that wasn't enough to stop it.  Onwards.  Through the exit, and a grating falls behind us.  One reaches through, and Beatrice jumps back out of its reach.  She asks what they are, and again I can't tell her.  But she says she recognises one of them.  The eyes.  She saw them at the coffee shop.  She points.  I see it too.  Rachel.

Something's wrong with Beatrice, I realise, as I look into her eyes and see the pupils enlarge and then suddenly contract to pinpricks.  She wants to know if this kind of thing is normal for me.  Of course not.  Normally I just follow cheating spouses for a living.  None of this is normal.  And then there's the other question.  Why does she want to stab me?

It's got her, whatever it is, the same way it got me in the room with the altar, I suddenly realise.  Now she's sitting on the floor refusing to move, demanding answers, blaming me for dragging her here, and I'm trying to give her what she wants but it's not going to be enough to stop her coming after me with that knife.  So I remind her that she came here by choice, and that she has to fight the thing that's controlling her.  And I can see in her eyes that she's snapping out of it, but we've stayed here too long and the grate opens.  The closest one reaches out for her, grabbing hold of her ankle while its long black tongue reaches out, tasting the air around her.  I drive my kitchen knife into its wrist, and while I lose the knife when it pulls its hand away, Beatrice is free.  I drag her back to her feet, and together we run.

The next room we come to is full of machines.  Four people are imprisoned inside them, tubes pumping some kind of black bile into them while their skin is carved away.  But right now I care about just one thing, and none of these people are Raven.  Onwards, through a door that seems to lead into some kind of priest's inner sanctum.  And there's Raven, in one of those machines, and bending over him, about to start connecting tubes, is Mildred.

I've lost my knife, but there's no shortage of weapons in here, if I'm willing to snatch them from practically under Mildred's nose.  My hand closes around a machete as she turns to look at me.  She speaks.  Tells me I'm just like her daughter.  Asks me some questions.  I'm not even listening.  I'm done with questions.  I drive the machete into her side.

She bats me away like I'm nothing but an annoying fly, and the machete is wrenched out of my grasp as I'm flung across the room.  She turns her attention on Beatrice then, asking her to come closer, and Beatrice drops her own knife and starts walking.  I reach for the knife, but something seems to have gone wrong with gravity and I can barely move my legs.  Beatrice is in her grasp now, not even reacting as Mildred cuts into her neck.  The knife falls from my hand.  She's making Beatrice talk now, using her voice to say that yes, of course she wants to sign a pact.

Once I was a soldier.  A Roman legionnaire, armed and armoured, fighting the Britons.  I feel a fragment of that soldier come back to me.  I am a fighter, and I will fight.  Mildred isn't taking Mary, she isn't taking Raven and she sure as fuck isn't taking Beatrice who doesn't deserve any of this.  The machete is lying at her feet.  I force my legs to obey, snatch up the blade and in one movement I slash it across her neck.

Just like when Mary stabbed her.  No blood, just a curl of smoke from the neck wound.  And then she's gone, leaving an after image in smoke before it dissipates too.

Raven.  There's a tube connected and the black bile is moving through it.  I yell at Beatrice to help, and get him out of the machine before whatever it is reaches him.  He's unconscious, but he's alive.  Then I hear Mildred's voice.  She'll be back soon.  And I remember that we're still in hell, even as every terrible thing that Roman legionnaire ever did floods my brain.

And that's when my phone beeps.

Beatrice looks at me in disbelief as I automatically look at the screen.  It's a text from Mary.  Something about a warehouse.  Doesn't matter.  The fact I'm getting a phone signal in hell means we must be very close to our own world.  I text her back.  I'm in hell.  If you know how to help, please help.  It's not long before I get a reply.  She's in a corridor.  She thinks she can find us.  I call her so she can talk us out.  Beatrice and me drag Raven between us, until at last we find her.

There's a hole in the ceiling above us.  It's an effort to get us all through, with Raven unconscious and Mary looking like she's ripped her stitches and maybe caught fire somewhere along the way, but we make it through onto the floor of what looks like some old warehouse.  I don't care where we are though.  All that matters is that Mary did it.  We're back in our world.  Beatrice is going to need a ton of therapy and I don't know what state Raven's going to be in after what he's been through.  But right now, right here, they're safe.

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